I started dancing to save me and my bf from eviction... and ended up thanking my 70-year-old regular in the VIP room

I’m Gabby (lol, stage name) and I’ve been working at a local strip club in the town over for about a month and a half now. I am genuinely the last person on earth anyone would expect to be doing this. I’m the typical quiet, shy girl-next-door type. My friends and family would be absolutely floored, probably horrified, if they ever found out.

Me and my boyfriend of 4 years, Jake, recently moved in together, and even with both of us working full-timeI’m in retail making like barely above minimum wage the stress of paying bills and rent was crushing us. The first time Jake brought up me dancing, I was so hurt and shocked. The only girls I knew who worked there were the typical trashy, slutty girls from high school and I was like, “Hell no! I’m not that type of girl!” And that was that.

Fast forward a few months. My car broke down. The repair bill took every last cent of our rent money cause, like, my engine needed to be replaced. We got a 14-day notice to quit from our landlord. I was panicking, crying, feeling like a complete failure. That’s when Jake brought it up again, his voice gentle but desperate. This time, I just broke down and reluctantly agreed. I felt like I had no other choice. That night I remember I like cried so much and felt like such a failure.

The next day, we went to the club. I filled out the application, talked to the manager, and pretty much got hired on the spot. I started that following Monday. Because I’m the newest girl, I get the worst shifts: Monday and Thursday. I have never been so fucking nervous in my entire life. But honestly, it’s been better than I thought. The money is a massive, massive help I usually make as much in two shifts as I do in a whole week at my retail job. The girls are all surprisingly friendly and cool, and it’s been a huge confidence boost. It feels empowering, not degrading like I’d imagined.

Because I have a set schedule, I already have regulars. My biggest regular is Dave. He’s a much, much older guy, probably in his 70s, but super sweet. He comes in every Monday just to see me, is generous, remembers little things I tell him, like about my week and my cat and everything, and always buys me drinks. He usually requests a VIP, which is more private and quiet.

The first time we were in VIP, he asked if I did “extras.” I had no fucking clue what he was talking about. Once it clicked, I was like, “Oh, um, no, sorry,” and he was totally cool about it.

After work one night after a couple weeks, I was talking to a girl who’s been there for a while. She teased me about my “work boyfriend,” Dave. I told her, as a huge secret, that he’d asked about extras. She was like, “And…?” I whispered, “I think he wanted me to… you know… give him a blowjob.” I was so naive. She just laughed and was like, “Girl, of course he did!” She then gave me a full-on stripping 101 lesson on negotiating and all that. I was shocked, but she normalized it so well, just saying, “It’s business, honey. Your body, your rules, your price.”

This past Monday, like always, Dave was there. We were chatting and then went to VIP like we always do. We were talking and I was dancing for him, running my hands over my body, trying to be sexy. I was on his lap, grinding against him, and I could feel it he was hard beneath his sweatpants. A wave of nerves hit me. I kept dancing, but my hands were trembling.

He leaned in, his voice a low whisper right by my ear. “You’re so beautiful, Gabby. So beautiful.” Which made me smile, I am still not used to that at all. His breath was warm on my neck. “You know… I would make it so worth your while if you’d help me out with this.” He gently shifted his hips. “No one has to know. It can be our little secret.”

And in that moment, my mind just went completely blank. It wasn't me, the 22-year-old retail worker, quiet shy gf, in that room anymore. It was Gabby. And all I could think about was how he always, always picked me. How he spoiled me every single Monday, how he remembered the stupid little details I told him about my week. He was my one reliable thing here, the one who made me feel wanted. I felt this overwhelming urge to… thank him. To really thank him.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” he murmured, his hand resting on my thigh, his thumb stroking my skin. “Just… touch it for me. That’s all. Just use your hand.” He sounded so calm, so sure of himself, that it made me feel like my own panic was an overreaction. Swallowing hard, my throat tight, I gave a tiny, little nervous nod.

My hand was shaking so badly as I slid it down his stomach and under the waistband of his sweatpants. I wrapped my hand around his cock, and it felt thick and heavy in my palm. I started to stroke him, awkwardly at first, my movements jerky with nerves.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he groaned, his head leaning back against the couch. “Just like that. You’re doing so good.” His praise felt really good. I started to move with a bit more confidence, my grip tightening, my strokes becoming smoother.

After what felt like awhile, he looked at me. “You have such a pretty mouth, Gabby,” he said, his voice thick with need. “I bet it would feel so good… please… just for a minute?”

My stomach did a nervous flip. This was the line. The big one. But I was already jerking him. I felt a strange sense of power, knowing I was the one who could give him what he wanted. I stopped stroking and slowly slid off his lap onto my knees in front of him. My face was bright red with embarrassment and nerves.

I looked up at him, my eyes wide and uncertain, as I hooked my fingers into his sweatpants and gently pulled them down. His cock sprang free, and it was bigger than I’d imagined, the tip already glistening. I leaned in, my heart pounding, and so nervously stuck out my tongue, licking the head. The taste was salty and clean.

I closed my lips around him, taking him into my mouth. I was so nervous but he let out a deep moan. “Oh god, yes… Gabby, that’s perfect. You’re so special.” His words washed over me, and a weird thrill went through me. I started to move, bobbing my head, taking him a little deeper each time. One of his hands came to rest on the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair, not pushing, just holding on.

“Just like that, baby girl,” he panted. “Your mouth feels incredible. You’re gonna make me cum.” His encouragement was everything. It made me feel less like a scared girl and more like a woman in control. I kept sucking a little harder.

He started to tense up. “I’m close,” he grunted. “Oh, fuck, Gabby…” And then he was cumming, like a lot way more than my bf does flooding my mouth. I was startled for a second, but I just swallowed, my eyes squeezed shut.

When I pulled back, my face was bright red. I couldn’t look him in the eyes. I felt a wave of shame so intense I felt like I was about to cry. But then he reached down, pulled me up onto the couch next to him, and wrapped his arm around me in a warm, comforting hug. “You were amazing,” he said softly, kissing my forehead. “Absolutely amazing.” He then stuffed a big tip into my hand. It was so much!!

Walking out of the VIP room was terrifying. My legs were shaking, and I was positive every single person in the club was staring at me, that they all knew exactly what I just did. I kept my head down, my face burning, and basically bolted for the dressing room. But when I peeked out, no one even looked up. The bartender was pouring a drink, the other girls were laughing with customers, and the bouncer was just staring at his phone. Nobody cared. Nobody knew. And that realization helped me relax so much. It was just… another secret in a dark room.

When I got home, Jake was asleep on the couch, waiting for me. I felt a pang of guilt so sharp it almost made me gasp. I crept into the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror. But then I told myself what I have to keep telling myself: that was Gabby in that room. Not me. Gabby did that to pay the rent so that me and Jake could have a life. I know it sounds fucked up, but it’s the only line I have right now.

My boyfriend has no idea. But we’re not getting evicted, we are not stressed or fighting. And a part of me, a part I’m terrified to admit that I like being Gabby