The Nightside by BigElectricKat I had been working at the Nightside part time for the better part of a year. It was a strip club in the Florida panhandle not far from the beach. My buddy Mike’s sister owned the club and I was able to get a gig deejaying a couple nights a week. The extra cash came in handy and helped me satiate my need for more music and equipment. You’d think that a young, red-blooded, straight male would be in heaven working in a strip club full of nearly naked women. It seemed so at first, but over time all of the late nights, the fights, the arguments, the smell of smoke, and the medical enhancements began to take their toll on my mind. I had dated a couple of the dancers and found the experience… lacking. As time went on, a revolving lineup of silicone boobs and beer-breathed girls wasn’t as appealing as it once was. To top it off, we’d just lost our fourth bartender in as many months. It had been an unusually dreary day on the Gulf Coast that morning. By early evening, the vibe was downright dreadful. And by the looks of the skies, I wasn’t counting on getting much in the way of tips that night. When I got to the club, I started my usual routine: set up my equipment, start making set lists for the dancers that were scheduled, and grab a beer from the bar. Mike was stocking the bar when I came in. He was glad that I was in early because he wanted to introduce me to the new bartender. He said that she was very eager to work for us. I rolled my eyes. “You hired another female bartender”, I asked. Seriously? We just hadn’t had much luck with gals tending bar. There just seemed to be too much estrogen in the building and jealousy always reared its ugly head. Mike said, “Trust me on this one”. Just then, I heard the squeaky door to the locker room open. When I turned to see who it was, I was both shocked and delighted. Striding toward us in a tight fitting yellow and blue dress, was a towering visage of womanhood, so confident, it radiated from her like heat from the sun. I’m sure she stood a full 6’1” tall in her bare feet. I would guess that she was all of 350 pounds of pleasantly proportioned plumpness. While she had a pear shape with acutely flaring hips, she was extremely gifted in the bosom area as well. Her tight dress held a very large and shapely rear in check and reached only down to her mid-thigh, revealing large, powerful and evenly dimpled legs. In the dim, reddish light, her white skin took on an almost translucent quality and seemed to glow. The freckles on her face provided such depth that they seemed to soften her skin even more. Mike introduced her as Reagan and while my eyes were transfixed to her emerald orbs, I shook her perfectly manicured hand and almost fainted. Her hands were so soft; the kind of soft that you associate with babies, yet they were strong and seemed to be to engulf my own large hand. We chatted for a moment and right away, I was charmed by her southern accent, spoken with a tone that evoked the sensuality of warm honey. To say I was instantly smitten would be an understatement. After a moment, I excused myself to get ready for the night that was coming. It felt like I was literally tearing myself away from this reubenesque goddess. While setting up my equipment, I made sure to watch as Mike went over all of her duties with her. Several times I stopped in awe, as she easily hauled cases of beer and liquor from the back storeroom to the bar. I marveled at the way her hips moved rhythmically as she strode across the floor. A couple of times she caught me stealing glimpses of her, giving her an approving nod or a “thumbs up” each time. She didn’t seem to mind but she wasn’t beaming with delight either. After a while, the rest of the staff came in: bouncers, waitresses, and dancers. It was a Friday night and suddenly seemed like it would be busy. After some of the staff saw Reagan, you could see them whispering and giggling. As the evening got into full swing, the beer was flying and the dancers were twerking for dollars, I just continued to steal glances at Reagan. I watched her move so fluidly behind the bar. All the while, she smiled and made drinks like a pro. I just couldn’t take my eyes off her and she noticed. When the night was over, a bunch of us were headed out to our favorite afterhours joint to grab a drink and some good food. Mike invited Reagan to join us but she declined. I offered to walk her to her car and she accepted. I made sure to tell her that she handled that first night very well and that it was fun watching her work. She told me that she enjoyed watching me work as well. I hadn’t noticed her observing me but was glad that she had. She noted most of the dancers hugged or flirted with me during the night. I told her it was nothing. When we get to her car, she asked me if I was dating any of the girls. I was initially taken aback by the question, but recovered enough to answer her honestly. I told her that while many of them were attractive and we’re all playful at work, they mostly weren’t my type. I expected her to ask me what my type was but she did not. Instead, she unlocked her car placed her purse on the passenger side seat, slowly bending over as she did so. Watching her backside appear to expand in her dress as she leaned over suddenly made my heart go pitter-patter. When she stood up again, I must have had an unknowing smile on my face. Her eyes lit up a bit and she smiled warmly at me. She thanked me for walking her to her car and extended her hand toward mine. I gently shook her hand with my right while enveloping the back of her soft, velvety smooth hand with my left. Surprisingly, her grip became tighter and she pulled me in close to her. She bent down and whispered in my ear, ‘Thank you for being a gentleman” and then gave me a soft kiss on my cheek. She then climbed into her vehicle, waved, and then drove away. I stood there, eyes wide open, mouth agape, stunned. The scent of vanilla was swirling around in my brain and I couldn’t stop seeing her beautiful rear when I closed my eyes. Due to my military commitment, I wasn’t able to go to the bar for two nights after that. When I finally got a night off, I was anxious to see if Reagan was still working there. When I walked in the door I was initially disappointed; there were only a few customers and Johnny, the assistant manager was behind the bar. I scanned the room for Reagan but she was nowhere in sight. Just as my heart began to sink, out she strode from the back cooler. She was carrying a case of Bud Light bottles with one hand, pressed high in the air like an expert waiter with a tray of food. In my head, I marveled at her strength, her balance, and her brashness. When she saw me, she winked and smiled that big, broad smile that I had so quickly become enamored with. Then she went about her business preparing for the night’s activities. As I had done since her first day, I watched her intently from the DJ booth. When she moved, her beautiful, big body moved rhythmically with her, swaying to and fro. I almost became hypnotized by the jiggling of her flesh. At one point, I was underneath the mixing board rewiring some speakers when her strong, powerful legs appeared right beside my head. When I looked up, she wasn’t even looking at me. As I stood up and took a step back, she moved in front of me and started going through my CD’s (this was pre-mp3 days). As she searched through the music, her hips swiveled back and forth there in front of me, as though she were hearing music of her own in her head. Her magnificently huge rear seemed to be calling out to me but I stayed my hand, being a gentleman and all. When she finished picking out her music, she turned to me and handed me the CD’s saying, “Play these for me while I work, Big Guy”. And then she bent down and kissed me on the cheek again. Again I was stunned into silence as I watched her walk back to the bar. It seemed as though she might be even bigger than I originally thought but it somehow made her even more appealing to me. The night played out the same as before: me walking her to her car, inviting her out with us, and she respectfully declining. Again, she whispered in my ear. This time she said, “You’re very sweet”. I tried not to ascribe any meaning more than her words suggested. This scenario played out again and again over the next few weeks. Always ending with a kiss on the cheek and something whispered in my ear in her warm, deep, sexy voice. About a month in, I thought the same routine would play out one night. But when I walked her to her car, she strolled to the passenger’s side and opened the door and just stood there smiling. After what seemed like an eternity, I walked over and sat down in the seat. She gently shut the door and then sat down in the driver’s seat. I asked where we were going and she said, “To a nice, secluded spot”. My heart began to race and I could hear it beating in my chest. It seemed to be so loud that I thought she could hear it as well. She didn’t say a word while we were driving to her “spot”. She turned down an access road that led to the backside of a little park, a block away from the ocean. After she stopped and we exited the car, I could hear the waves crashing on the shore. I was glad for that sound as it drowned out the thud-thud of my racing heart.