Private Dancer

The penny drops. "Ahhhh, I see. Parent-teacher night."

Janice shrugged and then spanked her butt and turned towards me. "Sure. We talked. There was a spark, at least for me. She wanted to talk about Polly getting some tutoring, so we met for coffee, and it became a regular thing. One thing led to another, we had dinner a couple of times, and then she kissed me."

She turned around again, and leaned on me, both her hands on my shoulders, as she looked into my eyes, to give what she was saying extra emphasis, stressing each word.

"She. Kissed. Me. Not the other way around. She wanted it."

I gave her the half smile, with one side up and the other straight.

"Oh yes, I don't doubt that."

"So I kissed her back. She's a hell of a kisser. The next time we met, it was at my place, when Polly was on a play date, and we couldn't keep our hands or tongues off each other. From that point on, she was over every time she could be. Is that what you wanted to know? Going to go home and jerk off to that idea are you? Your precious Alby with her tongue on my clit and in my twat?" Janice's voice was soft but contemptuous.

I sighed and looked away. Not in defeat but mainly because the image was pretty hot. Particularly since, as Janice said it, she leaned back and pulled up her skirt, exposing that tight little pink twat. She ran a finger very light up the slit, and then dropped the skirt again.

"And so you are in love now, are you?" I asked, gently. I needed to get the straight dope on where Janice thought this was relationship was in order to find the cracks and start making them bigger. "She's told you this, and she's going to give up her marriage for you, is that it?"

Janice snorted and her eyes flicked away for a second. Only a second, but it was enough and told me what I needed to know.

"She doesn't have to. When we make love, she holds me, and stares at me. She looks into my soul. What we have transcends words. Our souls merge."

"In other words then, no, she hasn't said it. Janice, I don't know how to break it to you so you'll understand, but She. Is. Not. Leaving. Period. She's just not. Forget about me, she's not leaving her kids. She's not leaving Michela and Jessie. Not in a million years. And she'd have to, to go with you. There's no way she'd get custody in that situation. Not with the republican judges we have around here. You know that if you have custody of you sister – I'm assuming there are no parents around, yes?"

She nodded, and said briefly, "They died three years ago. It's why I'm in this job. Have to pay the bills and keep her in a place that's safe."

"Right, sorry to hear that. Look, that means you've been through the system. You know what it's like. I'll bet dollars to donuts the courts don't know you are an exotic dancer, right? Think you'd get custody if they did? Think they wouldn't be around every other day to make sure Polly wasn't being exposed to all the wrong elements in life? You know it's true. Cause it is. And Alby knows it too. And she won't risk it."

I paused, since the song had ended and was just blending into another one. Nasty Girl, by Vanity. That song I did know. It predates Donald Trump's decision to decide which women are nasty. And it used nasty in the way normal under seventy year old people think of it. I hadn't heard it in years. Not since I was last in a place like this, probably.

"She's not going to be separated from the girls, Janice. If you know her at all, you'll know how devoted she is to them. How they are her life. If you think about it, and stop blinding yourself with all this soul-merging crap, you know it too."

Janice's eye's flicked. It was a second's uncertainty. A momentary examination of my face to see if I was genuine. A blip in time where she wanted to confirm what she deep-down already suspected. It was a fraction of a second, but it was there. The first crack had been found. Now to lever it open.

"She will never leave the girls, even if she wanted to. But here's the thing Janice. She doesn't even want to."

"Of course you'd say that," said Janice, slowly slipping out of the skirt. I'd forgotten the drill. Of course with the three songs, they take of the top on the first one, the skirt on the second, and then the thong on the third. Keeps the tension rising.

"It's true though. The thing is, Janice, all you are doing here is really setting yourself up for heartbreak. As I said, she may be the love of your life – and I totally get that, she's the love of mine too – but she isn't going to abandon her life for you. That's why she's not telling you she loves you or is going to run away with you. It's because she's Not."

I stopped to regroup for a second. I needed to be convincing for the next part. Not least because it was all one hundred percent true, but also because this was the trump card.

Switching gears, I said, "Has she started calling you 'Twee' yet?"

That got a response. She stopped dancing for a second and just looked down at me. There was no obvious expression on her face but I knew I'd hit a nerve.

"Twee is short for 'sweety'. A bit of history for you, that I'm sure you are unaware of. Alby had a really close friend growing up. A BFF if you like. They were together since they were toddlers – their mothers were best friends too. Her friend's name was Sally, but they just called each other 'sweety', which became Twee. Sally had short black hair. Cut in a bob. Petite. Starting to ring any bells?

"Sally died when Alby was eighteen. A car crash out of nowhere. Alby was devastated, obviously. But here's the thing. They were just starting to have a more mature relationship. They were exploring masturbation together. Making out. 'So they were ready for the boys', she says. For all I know, they'd gone all the way. She denies it, but whatever. The bit that matters is they were close. Very close. And then her friend died. Abruptly.

"Alby has never completely gotten over it. She finds women who remind her of Sally, and goes completely overboard with the friendship, really quickly. What...you thought you were the first? Sorry, not even close. She's done this several times over the years. She finds a woman who reminds her of Sally, gets very close, very quickly, then it all explodes when that person does something or reacts in a way that Sally wouldn't have. Or more accurately how Alby thinks Sally would have reacted in her idealized version. She died before she got old enough for her less desirable personality traits to start to bother Alby. So Alby thinks of her as perfect. And she tries to find replacements for her and when they turn out to not be perfect, they go. You are competing with an impossible ideal, Janice. All the prior relationships with Sally look a-likes went down the toilet. And that's where you are headed, Janice."

I leaned back and rolled my head around my neck, hearing the vertebra crack. I thought a few seconds of silence would be just right about here.

She resumed her gyrations, but now the expression on her face was very different. Thoughtful. Considering. All good signs. This might be working.

"I will give you this – you are the first of these women with whom Alby seems to have gotten physical, at least as far as I know. I suspect that's more to do with you than with her. She just wants her friend back, and you are it right now. And when you aren't any more, well... "

I sighed and rubbed my jaw, saying, "I've tried to get her to go for some help for this... compulsion. But... she says that it'll 'remove her memories' and those are precious to her. I mean, you can bring a horse to water but..."

I shrugged, indicating that there were some battles not that worth fighting, because victory would cost you everything you wanted to save in the first place.

"By all means verify this with her. Ask her about her old friends. She'll be all too happy to tell you about Sally."

I paused again. I needed to be careful how I approached this next part.

"The thing is, I want her back. I love her too. And for a lot longer and deeper than your little fuck fest has been. I grok it, Janice. She's easy to love. Easy to fall for, but she's not yours. You might want to delude yourself that she is, but she isn't, and deep down, you know it.

"I mean, I get it. I really do. I would want something better than this too," I said, looking around the room we were in. "But Alby isn't it. I know you are looking for stability. For some one that accepts this. For someone to help with your kid, but you have to understand, Alby is not it."

I stressed 'not' – she needed to get the message.

"I will fight for her. I don't want to come in here and threaten you, Janice. I really don't. I'm not angry, well not that angry. I just want to warn you. I want her and I want you to walk away. Because it's in everyone's interests. You are on a voyage to nowhere except heartbreak. And you are dragging everyone with you. Alby. Me. The kids. Is it really worth it, when you are headed for rocks anyway?"

The Vanity song ended, and in its place, The Vinyls, "I Touch Myself" started. Another one I hadn't heard in years, but a staple of places like this. I imagine there must be a 'strip club greatest hits' playlist out there, with songs like this on it.

Janice, operating on what was clearly autopilot, slowly slipped out of her thong, now totally naked in front of me. And she was magnificent, there was no doubt about it. Tight tummy, a perfect peach ass, unblemished skin, no stretch marks, boobs that still pointed outwards and not down. Olive complexion. A wet dream, in fact. And I couldn't help noticing she was completely shaved down there too. Recently, if I am any judge. It was very distracting.

Again, I was struck by the strangeness of the situation. A hot naked woman in front of me, dancing in a way to guarantee a hardon from a dead man, and me doing my best to persuade her to leave the love of my life alone.

"You're very quiet," I prompted. I needed to get a read on her mental processes.

She flashed me a look of pure bitterness, then turned her back and started shaking her ass at me.

"What the fuck did you expect, asshole? You barge in here, and systematically tear down a fucking good relationship I was building. Let me dance for joy."

The last statement was ironic, bearing in mind what she was doing. She turned around again and draped herself forward. It was obviously a practiced move and a staple of her dance repertoire. Her autopilot was pretty awesome.

"Of course, it could all be bullshit anyway. And even if it's not, I've half a mind to just keep going anyway. She's the best thing to happen to me in, well, forever."

I sighed, and made a point of shifting and sitting on my hands. There was too much temptation to make fists.

"You'd do that? You'd destroy other lives and relationships just to gain something for yourself? What kind of person are you? What kind of person do you think your little sister thinks you are? Because if you do this, I can guarantee she'll find out."

Janice literally stopped dancing and looked at me with revulsion, and hissed at me, "You'd do that? You stay the FUCK away from my sister!"

"Janice, I wouldn't have to do shit. Alby would do it herself. She'd be introducing her to Jessie and Michela, and it would all come out all by itself. There's no way around it. You are playing with a matchbook that's ready to go up, and you are holding it. I'm trying to do my best to get you to butt out of relationships you have no part of, that were years in the building, and back to a place where you can find peace and a future with someone who might actually be in a place to love you back. I'll say it again. This. Isn't. It."

I was glad I was sitting on my hands; I was starting to get frustrated. It just didn't seem like I could make that last hurdle. I'd introduced doubt – I was pretty sure she understood the stakes and her place in it at this point -, but I just couldn't seem to get her in touch with her own conscience. One last try – there wasn't much to the last song anyway.

"I know you mentioned your parents had passed. I'm sorry about that. No child should have to deal with that so young. But can I ask, did you love them? Did they love you?"

She wasn't sure what I was getting at, but nodded, quickly and said, "Sure."

"OK, so imagine they split. Because your mom decided to be with some exotic dancer instead. Imagine how your dad would have felt. Imagine how you would have felt, watching that marriage disintegrate. How would you have felt towards the person who came between your mom and your dad. Because that's what we are talking about here, Janice. You want to be that person? You imagine your parents being proud of you? You imagine two kids hating you forever because of what you did, purely for your own ends?"

"Unnggh," replied Janice, clearly wrestling with some demons. She even smacked her own ass.

"But I LOVE her!" she exclaimed, hotly.

"What do you love, Janice?" I said, exasperatedly. "How do you know what she's like to live with, day in, day out? You have had her in your bed when the opportunity presents itself, which if I'm right, has only occasionally so far. Right now, your whole relationship is based on sex, attraction and lust. You've got no idea what she's like first thing in the morning. Or what her favorite TV show is. Or what she hates most in life. Or her politics, or why she hates pantyhose, or what kind of earrings she likes, or any of the other million and one things that go into a relationship. You don't know what gets her upset, or what to do about it when she's being unreasonable. You don't even really know if you even like her very much. Be real. You aren't in love, you are infatuated! You are in love with the idea of her, not the actual her. You don't know the actual her yet at all. You have New Relationship Energy. It's exciting. It's fun. And it's temporary."

I gritted my teeth.

"Please Janice. Please understand what you are doing to Alby's family. What you are doing to her relationships. I'm pleading with you to leave her alone. I want you to do this because it's the right thing to do. Can you do that? Will you do that? If not for her, or for me, for the kids, for Michela and Jessie?"

She stopped dancing and turned to me, not looking directly at me. She had a slight sheen of sweat on her perfect body and if I'm honest, it made her even more attractive. I had a sudden urge to lick it off.

"I could get all Lawyer Power on your ass, but I really don't want to. I want you to understand the need for some respect for other people's relationships here. I don't want you to be someone who has to be squashed. Please Janice, be the person you want to be...The person Alby and the kids needs you to be."

I saw her eyes darting around, looking everywhere but me, and then she suddenly blurted out, "ALRIGHT. OK. I'll...let it go. I'll have to see her. I want to see her. I want to ask about this Sally. About the kids."

"Please, when you do, don't mention I was here. Be roundabout. It's going to be hard enough to rebuild our relationship without her knowing I know what has been occurring, OK? I'd rather it just died, quietly, and she knows nothing about me being aware. It'll make it much easier for her to come back to the fold, so to speak, alright? Please?"

Janice shrugged, unconcerned. "Whatever."

Then she squinted at me, and said, "If any of this is bullshit, then I'm keeping it going. Just so you know." She even squared her shoulders, defiantly.

"I have no doubt you would," I drily replied. "No worries on my part. It's all one hundred percent true. You'll see. Check it out with Alby yourself."

As if on cue, the song wound down, and Janice started gathering up her clothes, slowly pulling on her thong, the skirt and then retying her shirt.

She reached over for the money, and took it all, both fifties. She briefly glanced at me when she did it, expressionless. I just smiled at her, mirthlessly. I had accomplished what I set out to.

She said nothing to me as we walked back into the main part of the club, and she immediately made a beeline for what I assumed were the strippers' changing rooms, not looking back at me.

As I walked out of the strip club, I let out a huge breath I didn't know I'd been holding, metaphorically. I think it went well. I think I got through to her. I think she got it. I think – I hope – she's going to break it off, and Alby was going to be mine again. I damn well hope so, because I was so hopelessly in love with her too.

All the arguments I'd used were the god's honest truth. Particularly about the fact that Alby wasn't going to leave her marriage for her. After all, if she wouldn't leave that idiot she was married to for me, she wasn't going to do it for some recent Janey-come-lately.

Yeah, I'm not her husband, but Janice didn't need to know that. I'm a lawyer, just like her husband. In fact, that's how we met, all those years ago. I was part of the firm that hired him – he got short listed because he was in the same fraternity as me, only a different college. But I'm a corporate lawyer and he's a patent lawyer, so we don't interact that much.

I'm married too, but in name only. My wife has her affairs, and has for years, and I have Alby, snatching time when we can. My wife and I are only still together for our girls, a fact we both acknowledge but never speak of. She's the dutiful wife when we have office functions and I am a dutiful husband for hers, but that's about it.

Alby is what gets me up in the morning, and I'm the one who noticed when our meetings started dropping off, when she was 'too tired' or 'had to get home' as she never did before. I didn't take much to work out what was happening and to get the details. If that guy she married hadn't noticed – and he had no clue about us, for all the years we'd been seeing each other, so there's no reason he would -, well, someone had to drive off the interloper. I may have to share her with that blind moron husband of hers, who, for some bizarre reason, she professed to love, but I do not have to share her with anyone else, and had no intention of doing so.

Yes, I'm unethical and immoral. So what? Don't I deserve to be happy too?