Pagan Moss' Peep Show Stories

Monday, July 28, 2003

Girl & I

I work with Girl Tuesday through Thursday during the days. We have a pretty good working relationship.

Girl is in her early twenties. She stands about five feet tall and weighs a whopping 90 pounds. Her bone structure is tiny . . . her features are delicate. The name Girl suits her quite nicely. Girl has fine shoulder length strawberry-blonde hair. Her complexion is milky white topped with a sprinkle of freckles to give her a nice wholesome, sun-kissed look. Her eyes are one of her best features . . . bright and huge - doe like, framed with lucious lashes. Their color is a deep green . . . like the waters of a glacier fed lake. Her smile is somewhat deceiving . . . innocent, coy, aloof. Under the facade, lies a much different tale.

Girl is a complicated creature . . . well, most of us are, I suppose. As childlike and frail as Girl may come across, she is actually quite a sadist. She has a fascination with the darker things in life, i.e., death, the occult, vampires, pain, etc. Her dream job is to be a Pro-Dom. She's always joking that she needs to find someone to be her slave.

Girl likes to be the center of attention and sometimes throws temper tantrums when she's not doing well at work, or if another girl is doing better than her. She gets especially angry when one of her regulars strays, or when a customer snubs her. When she's throwing a fit, I can hear her scream and/or throw things in her booth. I usually ignore her when she gets like that. After her fit, she usually calms down and apologizes. I accept her apology and things go back to normal . . . business as usual. Girl's outbursts used to get to me a little. I didn't appreciate her spreading her bad energy around. But now, I just close my booth door and tune her out. It works just fine.

[Note: Unlike most mainstream work environments, I feel a sense of acceptance on an unconditional level at the peep show. I hate cliches, but we are kind of an extended family here . . . sometimes dysfunctional, but together when it counts. When someone needs food . . . we share what we have. When someone needs a break from home, we offer our couch. When someone needs to talk, we listen and try to help. Sure we fight and are catty to each other here and there, but when the dust settles, we get over it. When people open up to others and allow themselves to be vulnerable, amazing things can happen.]

Girl's booth is filled with some interesting props. Some of these items include, but are not limited to, stuffed animals, children's story books, and a pacifier. The manager has given Girl a bad time about these items, referrring to them as "sick." He even stuck a note on the dressing room mirror which read, "No stuffed animals in the booths." However, like many of the rules managment tries to implement, it lasted for a couple of days and then the stuffed animals were back in the booth, and nothing more has been said of it.

Girl also brings in her baby blanket, which she's had for almost twenty years. The blanket is dark pink with white flowers on one side and white with dark pink flowers on the reverse side. There is a soft, white ruffle around the edge of the blanket, which Girl strokes her face with. I find it a strange juxtaposition that the blanket which provided comfort to her as a child, now provides comfort to her in her peep show booth.

In addition to the aforementioned items, there's an array of vibrators that line the window of her booth, along with a large bottle of lube. Once in a while, Girl brings in her flogger. When it's slow, I can hear her in her booth, playing with her flogger like it's a toy. I can hear the tails as they fall lighly on her upper thighs and buttocks. The soft leather caressing her. She then speeds up the tempo and increases the force behind her swing. A nice smacking sound now resonates from her booth.

I hear her say, "Ooh, that hurt a little" and then silence.

She jumps out of her booth to show me her rosy ass cheek.

"I hope that doesn't bruise, " I say.

"Me too," she says, laughing.

One day, Girl and I were working together. I was in a show, but could hear Girl talking to a customer in her booth. I heard my name and Girl explaining that I was in a show right now, but would be out shortly. I wondered what was going on, but tried to ignore what they were saying and focused on the show at hand.

After my show ended, I jumped out of my booth and went into the bathroom to wash my hands.

Girl jumped out of her booth too and yelled, " Two-girl-show."

"We have a two-girl-show? " I asked.

"Yes, we do," said Girl. "It's with a customer we did a show for before."

Girl and I have done our share of two-girl-shows lately and I feel pretty comfortable with her now.

We decided to do the show in my booth as the layout is much better and I don't have as much clutter so there's more room to move about. Girl told the customer that we would be doing the show in my booth and that we needed a moment to prepare. He told her that was fine . . . that he would just wait in the booth for us.

We both ran into the bathroom to freshen up a bit. I grabbed a baby wipe . . .

[Note: Strippers love baby wipes to clean their face, pussies, and arse]

. . . and stood with one foot on the toilet seat and the other foot planted firmly on the ground. With my free hand, I spread my lips and wiped between each crevice and fold . . . not missing a spot. I took another wipe and started on my ass until everything was perfectly clean. I threw the wipes in the garbage and grabbed some tissue to take off my lipstick as Girl hates it when I smear it all over her. We both popped a mint and jumped into the booth.

I noticed that Girl had brought in her lube and light blue, G-spot vibrator with its tiny bumps covering the sides. I peeked through the crack in the curtain to see what the customer looked like. He appeared to be in his 30's and had that clean-cut, all-American boy look. He was of average height and build and was dressed in business attire. I immediately recognized him from the last show . . . although I couldn't remember how the show went, or how well he liked it. I figured it must have gone well if he was back for more.

The two-girl-shows are tricky because they are kind of expensive for the average person. They normally run between $80.00 and $120.00 and last only 10 minutes. The dirtier the show, the more expensive it gets. Not all of the girls do two-girl-shows and most will only do certain things with certain girls. We try to explain to the customer what he should expect during the show and how long the show will last to minimize disappointment. It is always a compliment when a customer comes back.

I closed the blind to the hallway and the customer put the money into the machine. We got into position, sitting on our knees side-by-side, leaning into each other as his shade began to raise. When the shade reached the top, the customer greeted us with a boyish grin.

"Hi," I said, smiling. "Nice to see you again."

"Nice to see you both," he replied.

He told us to do whatever we wanted . . . to pretend he wasn't there. He just wanted to watch.

Girl turned to face me. I grabbed the bottom of her tiny t-shirt and pulled it up and over her head. She was not wearing a bra. Her breasts resembled that of a young girl . . . small, swollen and ready to bloom.

Her pink nipples stood out . . . poking straight at me, begging to be touched, caressed, licked. I reached my hands out and cupped them in my hands, feeling how small and firm they were. I worked my hands up to her nipples where I fingered them for a while. I felt them get harder with each roll of my finger tips. I gave them a nice squeeze at the end as I knew Girl liked it a little rough.

Her body shuddered in response and she closed her eyes. I heard her breath quicken a little. I stopped for a moment to take off my top. I too, wasn't wearing anything underneath. We moved closer together until our nipples were touching. We rubbed them together like that for a while, clutching each others breasts, drawing ourselves into each other. I pulled away and brought my mouth down to her childlike bosom. I cupped each one of her breasts softly as I licked and sucked.

I felt a wave of desire come over me. Girl had once told me that she fantasized about being dominated by a woman, and I had an urge to do just that.

I held her nipple between my teeth . . . firm, but not too hard. Just hard enough to make her realize she couldn't get away. I was testing to see what her reaction would be.

"Mmmm . . . I like that, " she purred.

I bit down a little harder to heighten her pleasure and then released. Her body relaxed and she gave me a devilish grin.

"Stand up so I can take off your panties, " I ordered.

She stood up and I hooked a finger on either side of her panties and yanked them down to her ankles with one continuous motion. Her naked pussy stared me in the face.

[Note: Girl has one of those neat litle pussies wherein everything fits nice and tidy between the outer lips. I, on the other hand, have larger, full lips, which reveal themselves unintentionally.]

I stood up too and pulled my panties down myself. I stepped out of them, kicking them into the corner where our other clothes were piled. We were both entirely naked . . . except for our 6 inch, shiny black, strappy heels. Well . . . and Girl had knee-high, white stockings on.

I sat back down on my knees again and arched backwards with my hands behind me, pushing my chest out. Girl was still standing. I told her to stand over me so I could lick her pussy. Girl smiled and did what I said.

I started at the inside of her knee and moved my way up, licking ever so lightly . . . almost a tickle. I could see goose bumps popping up and I felt her muscles tense a little, relax, and tense back up again. Every now and then I would stop to give her skin a nice kiss. I would draw her into my mouth a little, sucking her, savoring her salty flavor.

As I moved up her thigh, I stopped at her pussy. I grazed it with the tip of my tongue. I heard her gasp, but I didn't stay there. I worked my way down the inside of her other thigh. I liked teasing her. It made me wet knowing how much she wanted more.

After I finished bathing Girl with my tongue, we laid down on our backs facing the customer with our legs spread wide. We took our vibrators and placed them on our clits. My vibrator was lagging a little as the batteries needed replacing. Girl's vibrator hummed along at a higher octave. The two sounds combined made an interesting harmony.

We both started moaning and the harmony faded to white noise. I wondered if Girl was enjoyng herself as much as she seemed to be, or if she was just carrying on for the customer's sake.

I decided to make sure she wasn't faking. I set my vibrator aside and positioned myself directly behind her.

I told Girl to get up on her knees. She did as I asked and resumed with the vibrator. I moved my legs apart and scooted forward as much as possible so that my bare pussy was pressed firmly against her buttocks and my breasts flattened into her back. I leaned over and started kissing her neck under her ear . . . hard wet kisses with flicks of my tongue here and there. I bit down on the lobe of her ear and held it there for a moment as I gripped the inside of her thigh firmly. She sighed loudly.

Girl was working her vibrator at a feverish pitch now. Beeds of sweat popped up on her back and started running down between us. My skin began to stick to her and we became one sweaty mess. She began to roll her hips and I followed . . . like I was fucking her from behind. I wanted her to think of me fucking her - not the vibrator.

I heard her say something under her breath. Her voice was all shaky. She started talking to herself . . . like someone else was working the vibrator.

"Yeah, that's it . . . oooh, right there," she whispered.

I squeezed her tighter. My body was stuck to hers . . . bound by sweat and desire. My finger dug deeper into the inside of her thighs . . . greedy little fingers wanting more. They moved in closer until I could feel her sweaty mound. I could feel her hand working her vibrator in and out, rocking back and fourth. I searched for her clit, but realized she was already there . . . rubbing it.

I placed my finger on top of her's and she pulled away. She wanted me to take over. She leaned forward towards the glass, bracing herself with the free hand, while she continued to fuck herself. I rubbed her clit and continued to hold on to her inner thigh with my free hand.

I felt her body tighten and shake. Her movements and breath became eratic.

"I'm gonna come," she said softly.

I tightened my grip.

She threw back her head, eyes closed, mouth wide open. She arched her back sharply and let out a huge moan. All at once, she collapsed forward. Her hands braced her fall and her cheek came to rest against the glass. I laid on her back for a moment. My hair stuck to the sweat on her back. I sat up and watched her for a moment. She didn't move at first. I watched her shoulders rise and fall quickly as she managed to compose herself. The movements slowed with each breath and she finally sat back up.

Her hands were visibly shaky. Her eyelids were heavy. I knew she didn't fake it . . . and I was happy.

The customer sat there slack-jawed. He hadn't said a word the entire show. The first words out of his mouth were, "How can I get a private show?" Needless to say, the customer was very happy with the show.

After he left, we both rolled out of the booth . . . a mess of sweaty bodies, tangled hair, smeared makeup. Girl walked slightly sideways to the bathroom, looking a little intoxicated. She was still in her own world. I put my clothes back on and got ready for the next show.

I heard the toilet flush and then the faucet turn on. A couple seconds later, Girl emerged, grabbed a cigarette off the counter, lit up, and sat down on a chair . . . still naked. She took a drag and exhaled. Her head hung down and her hands rested on her knees as she relaxed.

She finally turned to look at me and said very sofly, "Thank you."

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A Seattle peep-show girl shares stories of her customers and adventures stemming from her bare-it-all behavior.

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