How she became part of my Arabian fantasy. Part 1
Katia was born during the Soviet era on a farm in Moldova, then a republic in the USSR, and grew into a fine-looking blonde with a geometrically perfect figure: flaxen hair, fair skin, blue eyes, firm breasts, slim waist, lovely hips above long legs. The Soviet Union fell before she finished school, and she married a local man who appeared to be at the start of a good career, but he could not cope with the political dislocations, took to the bottle, and started to abuse her. Without children or parents to keep her home, she decided to leave him and seek her fortune abroad. She was now in her late twenties, and had kept her good looks and figure, with a smart head on her shoulders under beautiful long hair.
She left home for Bulgaria and quickly found a casino job in Varno. Her good looks and figure qualified her to be a cocktail waitress: her uniform a tight-fitting low-cut top over mesh stockings and shiny black high-heeled shoes. She started out as the junior staff member during the afternoon shift (no big spenders), but worked honestly and diligently at a boring job and was promoted to the far more lucrative evening shift, with the big tippers (who appreciated her décolletage and liked to see their bills disappear into it). Still, with the uncomfortable shoes and the smoke-filled atmosphere, it was a hard way to make money, and she had no interest in the married rich men or broken-down gamblers who made up the clientele.
When Katia started there, she was seriously short of money, but quickly found a roommate to share expenses—Amie, a nice girl about eight years her junior, who had been working at the casino for three years. Their small apartment had one bedroom with twin beds, a sitting room, and a kitchen. Despite the age difference, they became good friends, giving each other advice from experience in or at the job. Without much outside social life, between shifts they tended to lounge naked in their apartment, saving the expense of air-conditioning. This inevitably led to physical contact (usually starting with a back or shoulder rub). If one woman were extremely stressed by a bad day at work, the other would sense her need for erotic release, come to her without explicit invitation, progress from massaging her shoulder to kissing her eyelids, then to eyelashes flicking on nipples, and eventually to start quietly with a careful finger, finishing with her tongue. This activity was never a subject of conversation between them, but seemed natural in their position. In colder weather, they often shared one bed in spoon configuration, with taller Katia holding shorter Amie from behind, with one hand on her breast.
Of course, men at the club hit on them all the time, but they rarely responded. If a particularly good or well-paid offer were made, one of the women might bring him home, where he might get a very pleasant surprise (depending on their shift schedule) of attention from both ladies. (Neither woman was interested in merely listening through the bedroom wall.)
After eighteen months or so at the casino, Katia was approached by a well-dressed man. His proposition was different from the usual ones: he handed her a formal business card for the “Black Orchid” night club in Burgas, down the coast, and offered her an audition. He said the position involved “modern cabaret dancing”; she was not naïve and knew this did not involve folk-dancing costumes. He said that he chose her not only for her good figure, but because of her poise and intelligence. No one had flattered her with these words recently, and he seemed to be a legitimate businessman, so she accepted the card and made an appointment.
Katia’s casino shift started after 7 PM, so she took the bus down to Burgas the next day, arriving at the Black Orchid shortly after noon (long before opening time). The gentleman opened the door for her and led her through a narrow corridor from the street entrance to the empty showroom. Usual strip-club layout: bar along one wall, dance stage against the opposite wall with a pole near the center and a tall-backed chair at the rear of the stage. There was a ring of short tables and chairs near the stage with taller ones between that row and the bar. The normal stage lights on the ceiling, and rear curtains concealing the doors to the backstage dressing rooms.
He helped Katia onto the stage (wearing her summer street clothes) and asked her to perform a striptease to two songs. He turned on a few stagelights, went back to the sound system, and cued up two numbers. She had no previous experience, but had seen this dancing in movies. On the up-tempo first song, Katia walked briskly around the stage, shook her hair about and hooked her elbow around the pole, while unbuttoning her blouse. She shrugged the blouse off behind her, and then unzipped her skirt. Dropping the skirt to the floor, she stepped out of it and continued pacing the stage in her short heels, red thong, and lacy bra. The gentleman had taken a seat near the front edge of the stage by the beginning of the song, and watched her carefully. Approaching the front of the stage, she turned away from him, bent over, and thrust her cute butt towards him, covered only by the thin rear strip of the thong. The second song had a slower tempo; she moved the chair forwards, sat down side-saddle with knees separated, and slowly removed her bra, tossing it over her shoulder and arching her back to emphasize her breasts. She stood up, stepped forward from the chair, turned to face away from him, and slowly teased the thong over her hips with both hands. When the thong was halfway down to her knees, Katia turned to face him and let it fall towards the stage, wiggling her hips to help it slide down. When the thong reached her ankles, she sat down again, slipped out of her shoes, lifted her legs towards him, and stepped out of the thong, one naked foot at a time. She then spread her legs wide, straight out, exposing herself to his study as the music ended.
He cleaned off his glasses with a linen handkerchief, climbed onto the stage, and shook her hand. “Congratulations, gnädiges Fräulein, you have the job!” She quickly gathered up her clothes in front of her, ducked behind the curtain, and came out a few minutes later to talk with him. Katia agreed to give two weeks’ notice to the casino and start the Monday after that. He told her the pay was meager, but that girls worked for tips and easily cleared hundreds of euros per night (tax-free) if they knew how to entertain the audience. She had talked with others at the casino who had worked at such places, and understood the terms. If it didn’t work out, she was sure the casino would take her back so long as she gave proper notice when leaving now.
Katia was born during the Soviet era on a farm in Moldova, then a republic in the USSR, and grew into a fine-looking blonde with a geometrically perfect figure: flaxen hair, fair skin, blue eyes, firm breasts, slim waist, lovely hips above long legs. The Soviet Union fell before she finished school, and she married a local man who appeared to be at the start of a good career, but he could not cope with the political dislocations, took to the bottle, and started to abuse her. Without children or parents to keep her home, she decided to leave him and seek her fortune abroad. She was now in her late twenties, and had kept her good looks and figure, with a smart head on her shoulders under beautiful long hair.
She left home for Bulgaria and quickly found a casino job in Varno. Her good looks and figure qualified her to be a cocktail waitress: her uniform a tight-fitting low-cut top over mesh stockings and shiny black high-heeled shoes. She started out as the junior staff member during the afternoon shift (no big spenders), but worked honestly and diligently at a boring job and was promoted to the far more lucrative evening shift, with the big tippers (who appreciated her décolletage and liked to see their bills disappear into it). Still, with the uncomfortable shoes and the smoke-filled atmosphere, it was a hard way to make money, and she had no interest in the married rich men or broken-down gamblers who made up the clientele.
When Katia started there, she was seriously short of money, but quickly found a roommate to share expenses—Amie, a nice girl about eight years her junior, who had been working at the casino for three years. Their small apartment had one bedroom with twin beds, a sitting room, and a kitchen. Despite the age difference, they became good friends, giving each other advice from experience in or at the job. Without much outside social life, between shifts they tended to lounge naked in their apartment, saving the expense of air-conditioning. This inevitably led to physical contact (usually starting with a back or shoulder rub). If one woman were extremely stressed by a bad day at work, the other would sense her need for erotic release, come to her without explicit invitation, progress from massaging her shoulder to kissing her eyelids, then to eyelashes flicking on nipples, and eventually to start quietly with a careful finger, finishing with her tongue. This activity was never a subject of conversation between them, but seemed natural in their position. In colder weather, they often shared one bed in spoon configuration, with taller Katia holding shorter Amie from behind, with one hand on her breast.
Of course, men at the club hit on them all the time, but they rarely responded. If a particularly good or well-paid offer were made, one of the women might bring him home, where he might get a very pleasant surprise (depending on their shift schedule) of attention from both ladies. (Neither woman was interested in merely listening through the bedroom wall.)
After eighteen months or so at the casino, Katia was approached by a well-dressed man. His proposition was different from the usual ones: he handed her a formal business card for the “Black Orchid” night club in Burgas, down the coast, and offered her an audition. He said the position involved “modern cabaret dancing”; she was not naïve and knew this did not involve folk-dancing costumes. He said that he chose her not only for her good figure, but because of her poise and intelligence. No one had flattered her with these words recently, and he seemed to be a legitimate businessman, so she accepted the card and made an appointment.
Katia’s casino shift started after 7 PM, so she took the bus down to Burgas the next day, arriving at the Black Orchid shortly after noon (long before opening time). The gentleman opened the door for her and led her through a narrow corridor from the street entrance to the empty showroom. Usual strip-club layout: bar along one wall, dance stage against the opposite wall with a pole near the center and a tall-backed chair at the rear of the stage. There was a ring of short tables and chairs near the stage with taller ones between that row and the bar. The normal stage lights on the ceiling, and rear curtains concealing the doors to the backstage dressing rooms.
He helped Katia onto the stage (wearing her summer street clothes) and asked her to perform a striptease to two songs. He turned on a few stagelights, went back to the sound system, and cued up two numbers. She had no previous experience, but had seen this dancing in movies. On the up-tempo first song, Katia walked briskly around the stage, shook her hair about and hooked her elbow around the pole, while unbuttoning her blouse. She shrugged the blouse off behind her, and then unzipped her skirt. Dropping the skirt to the floor, she stepped out of it and continued pacing the stage in her short heels, red thong, and lacy bra. The gentleman had taken a seat near the front edge of the stage by the beginning of the song, and watched her carefully. Approaching the front of the stage, she turned away from him, bent over, and thrust her cute butt towards him, covered only by the thin rear strip of the thong. The second song had a slower tempo; she moved the chair forwards, sat down side-saddle with knees separated, and slowly removed her bra, tossing it over her shoulder and arching her back to emphasize her breasts. She stood up, stepped forward from the chair, turned to face away from him, and slowly teased the thong over her hips with both hands. When the thong was halfway down to her knees, Katia turned to face him and let it fall towards the stage, wiggling her hips to help it slide down. When the thong reached her ankles, she sat down again, slipped out of her shoes, lifted her legs towards him, and stepped out of the thong, one naked foot at a time. She then spread her legs wide, straight out, exposing herself to his study as the music ended.
He cleaned off his glasses with a linen handkerchief, climbed onto the stage, and shook her hand. “Congratulations, gnädiges Fräulein, you have the job!” She quickly gathered up her clothes in front of her, ducked behind the curtain, and came out a few minutes later to talk with him. Katia agreed to give two weeks’ notice to the casino and start the Monday after that. He told her the pay was meager, but that girls worked for tips and easily cleared hundreds of euros per night (tax-free) if they knew how to entertain the audience. She had talked with others at the casino who had worked at such places, and understood the terms. If it didn’t work out, she was sure the casino would take her back so long as she gave proper notice when leaving now.