Abby flushed. "Have you guys been following me?" "Oh, sorta," said the smiling girl. "I'm Lila, by the way. This is Daniel. C'mon, pay for your books. We'll get a cab."
Out on Post Street, a Veteran's taxi waited, with Lila seated inside and waving her in. Daniel held the door. Abby felt a little like she was heading through the looking glass, but they seemed okay. Actually, "okay" put it way too mildly—they were both really hot.
Abby climbed in—once Daniel had seated himself, squeezing her against Lila, she told them her name. "Want a drink first, Abby?" asked Lila. "We can take you to Spec's. Or Vesuvio! Kerouac's old hangout!" "No," said Abby, feeling like she'd had a drink already. "Let's just go." She expected a club with seats. But the Lusty Lady had nothing but booths. Abby looked around in confusion, but Lila took her hand and pulled her into a corner booth. Daniel followed them in and locked the door, then pulled out a ten and fed it into a machine on the wall. The kind they have at the Laundromat, thought Abby—but that thought seemed so incongruous here; she didn't say it out loud.
"It's a peep show," Lila explained. "We just watch through the window, see?" The window slid up with a whir when Daniel put the money in, and Lila pointed to the stage on the other side, where the women from the pulp covers seemed to have come to life—big hair, high heels, lingerie half-on, half-off. They sashayed around the stage just like the women on the books would do if they could move—like they owned the place! Some of them made slow, seductive dance moves, while one curvy blonde woman just stood and ran her hands across her pale skin. It looked like she might be about to masturbate. Abby's eyes grew wide—there was a Hooters back home, but absolutely nothing like this. "I used to work here," said Lila. "The dancers love it when women come in, and couples. Daniel and I come here a lot to show off for them. I thought you'd like to see them, and if you feel like it . . ." ". . . you can put on a show for them too," Daniel finished for her. "Some of them like to watch." "Anybody'll get into watching," said Lila, "if you give them something to see." Lila began unbuttoning her tight, clingy sweater. A black lace brassiere slowly emerged, and she wiggled her shoulders just a little in the crowded booth, just enough movement to get the sweater off her shoulders.
This caught the eye of a dancer, who drifted closer to their window, looked in at the three of them, smiled, and began to dance. Abby didn't know which way to look. The dancer wore almost nothing—just high black heels and a black boa made of fuzzy Marabou feathers. She teased her nipples with it and pulled it oh-so-slowly between her legs, so it covered, and then revealed, her neatly trimmed pussy. Abby had never seen anything so sexy.
Except maybe Lila—who stood right next to her, breathing warmly on her neck and leaning back into Daniel for support. His hands came up and caressed her lace-covered breasts, making Abby want to reach for them too. "You can touch," Daniel whispered. "I told you, they like it when we put on a show." Lila's breasts felt heavy and warm against Abby's palms. She'd never touched a woman like this—except a thousand times in her mind. She'd gone to girls' school with Colette and had adventures in Paris with Anais Nin; she'd read Herotica and let her fantasies run in every direction. With Lila's breasts in her hands, Abby felt somehow ready to have them there. She slid her palms in tiny circles until she felt Lila's nipples come up, until Daniel got involved, working his fingers swiftly to remove Lila's bra. Lila threw her head back against Daniel's chest and sighed deeply. He bent down to kiss her, and she pulled her skirt up to her waist. The tiny room was so tight that the back of her hand caressed Abby's pussy on the way down—she couldn't even tell if Lila meant to do it.
By now, Abby felt wildly overdressed too. "Can you help me get out of some of these clothes?" she asked, and Lila and Daniel both helped pull her sweater over her head and off. Then Lila unbuttoned Abby's jeans. Over her shoulder, Abby saw two more dancers come to join the first one, who still looked into the booth as if waiting for the show to start. But just as Abby turned to see who else had arrived, the window began to close!
"Damn!" said Daniel. "Has it been this long already?" "Time flies when you're having fun. . . ." said Lila, dreamily. Abby burrowed in her jeans pocket for cash. She still had at least a twenty. "There!" she said when she'd managed to fish it out. "My turn!" She fed the bill into the slot, which sucked it smoothly away . . . and the window rose again.
There was the sensual blonde, still touching herself. There was the small-breasted girl with the Marabou boa. A Latina with long, wavy hair peeked over her shoulder, and Abby could see a statuesque African American woman across the stage, looking over their way.
"Abby, when you said 'My turn,' what did you mean?" asked Lila in that dreamy, turned-on voice. "Do you want to play?" Abby nodded—she would have said something too, except Lila's lips covered hers right away, soft and wet, licking and nibbling in one of the most arousing kisses Abby had ever experienced. "Abby," came Daniel's whispered voice right next to her ear, "open your eyes!" Doing so, Abby saw two of the dancers kissing each other right through the window, almost like they were mimicking the show they saw in the little booth. Also, impossibly large and close up, Abby saw Lila's lashes, the waves of her dark hair. She let her hands range along Lila's body, touching everywhere she could reach, her hands sometimes finding skin and sometimes the texture of Lila's clothes. She could fit the cheeks of Lila's ass into her palms—they seemed just a little bigger than her breasts—and she touched naked skin when she cupped them, because Lila wore no panties.
Behind Lila stood Daniel, his cock hard beneath the fabric of his pants. Abby touched him too. How much could they do in here? She whispered the question. "As much as we have room for," said Daniel. "We might not actually have quite enough." "But we live right around the corner," said Lila. "That way we don't have to worry about running out of money for the machine." So Abby gave herself up to the pleasures of touching them, and feeling two sets of hands on her, until the time she'd bought with her twenty ran out.
They left a little gaggle of dancers bending down to wave through the slowly closing window. Lila and Daniel really were bibliophiles. Their apartment was a tiny warren of bookshelves with a big bed. Abby dropped her book bags inside the door and stepped inside.
Author's note: The Lusty Ladies now own the place! As of July 2003, the exotic dancers at the Lusty Lady Theatre (where I used to work, back in the day) are San Francisco's newest worker-owned cooperative business. Congratulations to them!
Excerpted with permission from Dirty Girls: Erotica For Women [Seal Press, April 2008.]