casper

The man, a self described nurse at a local hospital, explained the difference between the release times of different medications; oxycontin, oxycodone, vicodin…but he wouldn’t stop trying to touch my perfectly curled hair. I politely swatted his hands away, but he grew impatient.

"If I was a girl, I would let people touch my hair."

"Oh, okay, well, if you were a girl you’d know how long it took to curl your hair and you wouldn’t want it messed up."

"Oh, you’re right. I understand….Hey, you should let me lick your pussy. I have a fetish for licking pussy."

I leaned on his leg and stroked my clavicle, “I don’t think so, my dear.”

He continued his argument.

"I can’t control myself. But you should really let me. I’m actually a female embodied man. I’m a lesbian in a man’s body. So you should let me lick your pussy."

And this. This. Is when I stop a private dance.

Later, relaying part of the story to Ashton as she brushed her mile-long hair, she stood pensively, paused, hairbrush held against her lip.

"Does it ever freak you out, hearing about medical professionals like this?"

I climbed the stairs, “Fuck yeah it does. Why do you think I don’t want to be put under?”

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Thanks for the support to my recent photoset. I'm currently trying to feel inspired to complete/edit my book. The book that has taken four years to write, and now I'm so conflicted with self doubt, I don't know if I'll finish. Does the world really need another stripper tell-all?

Eh.

Love,

Casper-Elle