Treasure

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Treasure Page 2

by Rebekah Weatherspoon


  Alexis snapped out of her daydreaming when Trudy patted her leg. “You want to hit the champagne room?” she said with a devious look in her eye.

  “What do you mean?” Alexis asked.

  “You want a private dance? You’ve earned it, hanging out with our drunk asses all night. Go on. I think you can pick a girl and then you get a private dance in the back. It’s supposed to be extra sexy.” Alexis chuckled as Trudy did her own body roll in the chair.

  “Yeah, okay. I guess that could be fun.”

  “Come on.” Trudy grabbed her hand, and they started scanning the room. It wasn’t two seconds before two strippers appeared from nowhere.

  “Can we get you ladies anything?” the one who had spent most of the night with Treasure asked. Alexis thought her name was Mystic.

  “My friend here is looking to get a private dance,” Trudy said. “But I think she should choose.”

  “Of course. What’s your flavor, honey?” the other woman asked. Alexis couldn’t help but smile. She knew how strippers did their thing, but she never expected them to be so nice.

  “Um.” She cleared her throat and tried again. “I liked her,” she said pointing toward Treasure. “But I guess she’s busy.”

  “Nah. That guy’s not going to pay. Hold on.” Alexis felt a twinge of guilt as Mystic made her way across the room and whispered something in Treasure’s ear. Treasure nodded then smoothly extricated herself from the guy’s lap. He caught her wrist but let it go when she said something else, coupling her words with a sweet smile. In a blur, Treasure was in front of Alexis. In her platform heels, they were nearly the same height.

  “Alexis, right?” she said with the sexiest voice Alexis had ever heard. Alexis nodded. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  Alexis hesitated but got moving when Trudy gave her a little shove. They met a man at the private door, and Trudy paid him for two songs. And then they were alone.

  The room was oddly shaped, a deep rectangle that had mirrored walls and velvet couches on three sides. Treasure took her hand and directed her to sit in the center of the couch that ran along the rear wall. It was almost quiet in there; just the bass from the main floor and the pounding of Alexis’s heart could be heard inside the insulated walls. The music started, and Alexis tried to breathe. Treasure slid onto her lap, straddling her in one drawn-out motion.

  “You can touch me,” Treasure whispered in her ear. “But just listen to me if I say stop.”

  Alexis nodded and rasped out an “Okay.” Her hands automatically went to Treasure’s ass, the ass she had blatantly stared at an hour before. It was soft and round and big. As Treasure slid her crotch against Alexis’s stomach, Alexis gave the skin beneath her hands a light squeeze.

  Treasure swirled her hips again and brought her forehead close to Alexis’s. “You have soft hands,” she said.

  Alexis gulped. “Thanks.”

  Then she glided her hands slowly up and down the generous mounds. Treasure sat back, balancing her weight on Alexis’s thighs, then pulled the material off her left boob, exposing her nipple. Alexis’s first instinct was to lick it or bite it, but she kept her mouth to herself. Treasure must have caught her train of thought because she smiled before she slid to the floor.

  She opened Alexis’s legs and thrust her chest between her knees, rubbing her torso along the inside of her thighs. Alexis’s pussy was burning, aching, begging for some sort of contact, but the thick briefs, the layers of denim, and the fact that Treasure wasn’t going to actually have sex with her kept that from happening.

  Treasure reached up and just barely brushed her lips over Alexis cheek as she made her way back to Alexis’s lap. In a blink she rotated so she was face down with her hands on the floor, her pussy, covered with the smallest piece of fabric, rubbing against Alexis’s stomach. Alexis slid her hands back to Treasure’s ass, and she spread her cheeks gently apart. Treasure nearly stopped moving and let Alexis get a good peek. Alexis almost died. Treasure’s pussy was wet.

  As if she realized it at the same time, Treasure maneuvered her way back upright and settled her weight on Alexis’s thigh. There was a certain gleam in her eye. Treasure was actually enjoying this, too.

  A small voice came to life in Alexis’s head. She’s on the job, dumbass. Trudy paid her to be back here. You’re not on a fucking date. Alexis knew it was true, but she couldn’t help being as turned on she was, and she couldn’t keep her hands from sliding back to Treasure’s ass.

  Suddenly, the song ended. Treasure stood and adjusted her G-string.

  “How are you doing?” she said with a sweet smile.

  “I’m good,” Alexis managed to squeak out. “Good.”

  “Good.” Treasure winked just as the next song started up. She slid back into Alexis’s lap, but this time it was different. Alexis decided that even though this was Treasure’s job and this was something she’d been paid for, pleasure could be a two-way street. When the wet heat of Treasure’s pussy rubbed against her thigh, Alexis tried to hide how good it felt, the warmth and the wetness. When Treasure exposed her boobs again, Alexis touched them, gently teasing her nipples with her fingertips as Treasure continued to pleasure herself on Alexis’s leg. She didn’t fight it when Treasure gripped her breast through her sweater and her bra. Her nipple tightened, and she wished she could take her own clothes off.

  Treasure moved closer, and somehow when the second song ended, they were wrapped around each other with Treasure’s lips at Alexis’s neck and a wet patch forming on Alexis’s jeans. Treasure stood again and fixed her skimpy outfit. Then she led Alexis back to Trudy, kissing her lightly on the cheek before she left her with her chaperone and blended back into the crowd.

  A little while later, Sasha’s bridal party was rounded up and shoved back into the limo. The rehearsal dinner was less than twenty-four hours away, and this group needed to sober up and get some sleep, maybe not in that order.

  Alexis stared out the window the whole way back to her parents’ house, confused by the turn the night had taken, even more embarrassed, and completely sure that now the closest she’d ever come to having sex was with a stripper named Treasure.

  Chapter Two

  Trisha waited in the hallway outside room 204 in Tamper Hall for Professor Kapur’s Computer Science 101 class to start. The last few weeks had been crazy. She’d pulled plenty of money together to cover her books, the last of her tuition, and back-to-school clothes for her mother’s foster kids, but the stress and twists in her stomach hadn’t settled until she’d checked in the Friday before and picked up her student ID.

  Things were finally falling into place. She’d been stripping for four years. She could strip for another ten or fifteen more if she needed to, but once she’d finished her GED, she’d realized that she would eventually want a career that didn’t require her to work nights and take off her clothes. She’d knocked out a bunch of courses at Mercer Community College, and now she was attending Southern California University, chasing after a B.S. in computer science. There were certain things knew she could teach herself at home, like HTML or CSS, but Trisha had wanted more of the classroom experience she’d missed out on when she’d left high school. She’d also always wanted that diploma, the piece of paper to show prospective employers when the time came.

  She’d heard about the hard time women—especially black women—had in the tech world, but Trisha knew she could handle the pressure. She could do this.

  The door to room 204 sprang open, and students started filing out. Other doors along the hall did the same, spilling students into the halls to move on to their next class or an early lunch. Trisha waited until the room was mostly empty before she made her way inside. The classroom was smaller than a lecture hall but bigger than the small rooms she’d sat in at Mercer. Instead of desks, there were tables that sat three students across. Trisha took a seat in the middle of the room. She didn’t want to be front and center on the first day, and she didn’t want to get lost in the back. When she was s
ettled with her new laptop on the table, Trisha smiled to herself. She was there. It was real. She was doing big things for herself.

  The professors at the front of the room switched places. After a brief chat, the balding blond man with the loose polo shirt left, and the younger Indian man put his stuff down on the long table in front of the whiteboard. He started laying out papers. Trisha almost offered to help, but she kept her mouth shut and stayed in her seat.

  “Who are you?” he asked abruptly as he glanced up at her.

  “Trisha Hamilton.”

  “Welcome, Miss Hamilton. Ajit Kapur. Glad to have you. I’m a little out of sorts today, so you’ll have to pardon me.” He continued digging through his backpack.

  Trisha laughed to herself. Professor Kapur did seem a bit flustered, but he had a warmth in his voice that she appreciated. As long as she didn’t fuck around, she was sure they would get along just fine.

  Soon the room started to fill up. Professor Kapur continued to pull materials from his bag, repeating several times that he would be with them in a moment. Trisha glanced at the clock and then around the room. It was five after twelve, and she was the only girl in the class. It was going to be an interesting semester.

  Finally, Professor Kapur stood up straight and put his hands on his hips. “I had a cool demo to show you guys, and I am pretty sure I left the drive on my desk. Oh, well. I’m Professor Kapur, and this is Computer Science 101: The Fundamentals of Computer Programming. How many of you—” He stopped himself as one last student power walked through the door. It had been weeks, and in the fluorescent classroom lights and a more feminine set of clothes, the tall girl looked completely different, but Trisha recognized her immediately. It was the baby butch from the bachelorette party that had torn through The Luxor.

  This time her hair was up in a messy bun, and she wore much more makeup and a tight T-shirt and tight jeans that showed off the curves Trisha had gotten a brief feel of that Thursday night. It came rushing back to her. The private dance, the feel of the girl’s hands on her ass, the way she’d almost come in the girl’s lap. Everything but the girl’s name. Trisha searched her memory but drew a blank. She had mixed feelings about running into people she’d gyrated on out in the real world, but she was comforted by a somewhat familiar face. Also, she wasn’t the only girl in the class anymore.

  “Sorry,” the girl mumbled as she tugged on the straps of her backpack. “I couldn’t find parking.”

  “Not a problem. There’s a seat next to Miss Hamilton. Grab it, and we’ll get rolling.”

  The girl took two steps, and her eyes widened as she realized exactly who Miss Hamilton was. Trisha smiled and moved her stuff out of the way. It looked like the girl remembered her, too.

  “Hey,” Trisha whispered as the girl took her seat.

  “Hey.”

  Still shy, Trisha thought.

  Professor Kapur talked a bit more about his plans for the semester and began passing out the syllabus. Then, to everyone’s surprise, he let everyone go. He didn’t even take attendance.

  “The first day is always sticky. Get your books if you haven’t already. Get a jump on the first reading assignment, and then come back on Wednesday ready to rock.”

  No one asked him to repeat himself, and just like that, people were making a break for the door, though a few hung back to talk to the professor. Trisha grabbed her laptop and decided to risk the awkward conversation.

  “I know you from somewhere, right?” she asked.

  The girl shot her a sideways glance and a hint of a smile as she slid her copy of the syllabus into her bag. “Yeah. I think there was a lap dance or something.”

  Maybe she wasn’t so shy. “I’m Trisha. Sorry, but I’ve blanked on your name.”

  “Alexis.”

  Right, the bride’s baby sister. They shook hands and headed toward the door together.

  “Nice to see you again.”

  “Likewise. What are you going to do with your hour?” Alexis asked, which surprised Trisha a little.

  “This is my last class on Mondays. I guess I’ll get lunch, then maybe check out the library before I go home.”

  “Are you working tonight?”

  “No. I take Sundays and Mondays off. So, I have like negative friends here. Do you want to get lunch with me?” Trisha asked boldly. Yeah, she felt like a new woman, ready to tackle the world, but she didn’t want to ignore a chance to make a new friend, especially when they had a class together. For a moment, Alexis looked at her like she’d just asked her if she wanted to rob a bank with a stick of butter and a toothpick, but a moment later she snapped out of it.

  “Yeah, sure. Let’s go check out the food situation.”

  *

  Alexis couldn’t believe she was sitting across from the stripper she’d met at her sister’s bachelorette party, a few slices of pepperoni left on the platter between them. She had a real name, a cute real name that suited her. She looked just as good in her regular clothes as she did in a frilly top and thong. The high-top Nikes she wore worked just as well as the six-inch stilettos she’d worn to swing around the pole. And she was funny and smart, and they were in the same class.

  Trisha Hamilton had been on her mind ever since that night. Hers were the only boobs, other than her own, that Alexis had ever touched. Trisha’s lips were the only lips that had ever come close to her skin. She never thought she’d see her again, but she’d thought about her a lot. At the most inappropriate times, like right in the middle of Sasha and Michael’s vows, Treasure would pop into her head, and Alexis would be desperate for a little private time all over again.

  She’d come to terms with how sad her existence still was. Her parents watched her like a hawk. The girls she went to high school with, people she'd thought were her friends, still pretended she didn’t exist, even the ones who were attending SCU, too. She had Sasha, but she was back from her honeymoon and living with Michael. He was her life now. Alexis only had her violin and her own shitty thoughts to keep her company. And now a bunch of conflicting feelings about the girl who’d insisted on paying for their lunch.

  “Looks like all of your gears are spinning,” Trisha teased her as she popped a piece of pepperoni into her mouth.

  Alexis shook her head and tried not to fidget with the brown leather wrist cuffs she wore. It was too hot for long sleeves. “I’m still in shock, I think. I didn’t expect to see you again.”

  “Me neither, but it’s cool. You were sweet that night, and you seem pretty normal now,” Trisha replied.

  “I want to ask you a bunch of questions, but I don’t think I should. They’ll sound kinda fucked up.”

  Trisha looked at her for a second then leaned forward in her chair. “You can ask, and I reserve the right to leave you here if you say something crazy.”

  Alexis thought those were pretty fair terms. “Do you ever enjoy it? Like the lap dances and stuff.”

  “Only sometimes. Men don’t do it for me at all, and it’s hard to get turned on by clients, especially when you’re only with them for three minutes. People don’t come to strip clubs to have a realistic experience, and even when things get a little hot, it’s over so quickly. You’ve only shared a feeling, and then it’s gone. I have regulars, but they just vent to me, and I listen. That’s the least sexy part of the job.”

  Trisha shrugged, and Alexis’s mind filled with a whole other pile of questions. So Trisha was gay, but that didn’t mean anything. It just meant that Alexis had a slightly better chance. A better chance at what, she had no clue.

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t want guys all up on me like that, but it wouldn’t be so bad to dance for women.”

  “You guys were great. Honestly, it’s so much better when women come in. We get it, ya know? So, even though I’m doing the same routine or whatever, I’m not so worried about that ick factor I get from guys. I know it sounds a little sexist, but it’s true.”

  Alexis understood. She had a hard time relating to people in general, but mos
t of her bullies in high school had been boys. She found it easier to be around other women, even if she didn’t always feel completely comfortable in their presence.

  “But yeah, sometimes I enjoy it. I did with you.”

  Alexis tried not to smile. “Cool.”

  “Before I forget, we should swap numbers,” Trisha said, throwing her off again.

  “What—okay.”

  “In case one of us misses class, or we want to study together. I mean, it’s better if you have someone to study with.”

  Trisha handed over her cell and waited for Alexis to type in her info. It took too much effort for her to enter the number she knew by heart, and she was surprised she remembered how to spell her name, but eventually she got it all in there and hit save on the new contact. She handed the phone back and watched as Trisha typed something. Alexis’s phone vibrated in her pocket.

  “There, and now you have mine,” Trisha said. “How was your sister’s wedding?”

  Alexis was glad she’d changed the subject. No more talk of lap dances. “It was nice. Wanna see me in a dress?”

  “Yes,” Trish replied with a bright smile.

  Alexis wanted to kiss her right in the middle of the crowded pizza place. Instead, she pulled out her own phone, and after she saved Trisha’s info, she pulled up her sister’s wedding website where the pictures from the ceremony had already been added. She thumbed to a picture of herself walking down the aisle in the light green silk dress. She’d dreaded wearing it, but once her hair and makeup were done, she’d realized she didn’t look half bad. She showed the pictures to Trisha.

 

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