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Approximately four years ago I was driving home at night from the airport and desperately needed a bathroom stop. The idea of Maker's Mark on the rocks sounded appealing as well. The exit ahead was for a small city where I had lived 35 years earlier and I knew of a strip club which would be open as the clock neared midnight. I got off the highway, found the club and entered to see the most beautiful woman I'd seen in years on stage. She was slight of build with long blonde tresses which covered her pretty breasts/ Her slim hips were accentuated by a curvaceous ass and as I took a seat at the stage and fumbled for money she stretched out on the rail, lifted her right leg and encircled my neck, placing my face mere inches from her pink lipped pussy. Words escaped from my lips, “Beautiful. Just beautiful.”
When she left the stage another dancer appeared but I couldn't get the vision of Aria from my mind. Then, there she was beside me. Want a dance? Do I? Of course I did. Actually I think I did 10 dances with her. Being a “no contact” but full nude club I initially sat on my hands and steeled myself to resist temptation and get to know this seductress. She was very open about herself as I was with her. I had been married for 40 odd years and my wife had just been diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease. She lived more than hour away, had a 4 year old son who her mother was raising, she had a boy friend, the baby daddy, who was in jail. She had been a heroin addict for close to 10 years, but had stopped using earlier that year and was getting by pretty good on methadone. We compared birthdays and I learned that she had been born on my 40th birthday. She said we were born under the same sign and I said yeh, it said Maternity Ward. After 2 or 3 dances I let my hands wander. She did not protest and the bouncer was on the other side of the club. It had been years since I caressed a young “hardbody” and her dancing, grinding and just the visual pleasure of watching her excited me more than I thought possible. It was coming up on closing and we parted, thanking each other for a most enjoyable hour.
Three weeks later I was coming home from the airport and planned a stop at this club, realizing that she may not be there. But, when I entered there she was. Kismet, perhaps. As I approached her she greeted me by name and as we talked, she remembered every detail of my life that I had shared several weeks earlier. I was impressed, thinking that she must see many men and was frankly surprised that she remembered me at all. This time she suggested the Champagne Room and I followed like a puppy dog. One hour, $175 to the house and $200 for the dancer. I had been in strip clubs with other men while on golf trips to Myrtle Beach, but had little or no knowledge of the workings of a modern 21st century establishment. I enjoyed the hour, tipped her well and went downstairs to enjoy the stage shows; This time I got her schedule. For a couple of more weeks I went out of my way to see her and to revel in her beauty.

On my 3rd or 4th visit to the Champagne Room she had gotten undressed and was dancing for me as I sat on the leather couch. She dropped to her knees between my legs and said. “I'll suck yer dick for another $100”. She warned me there would be no cumming in her mouth but she didn't even ask for a condom. She quickly had my dick out and wrapped her lips around the head and started stroking. It had been years since I'd had bareback blowjob and I felt the load rising fast. I told her and she aimed my dick to the side and I dumped a load to be proud of on the carpeting. This became the norm for my visits and occasionally we would have vaginal intercourse with her mounting me. It had been years since I had truly enjoyed fucking, but with her it was heavenly.

After 6 or 7 months of regular club visits I said that the club was getting almost $200 and she was getting $300: why don't we meet at a hotel and I'll give her $500? She hemmed and hawed, thinking it over. She told me that she had never met a customer outside the club before and it felt like she was crossing a line. She finally agreed and I knew I had thousands of Marriott points so we started meeting at some very nice hotels. As a Platinum Marriott Rewards member I'd frequently get moved to a suite. We really enjoyed each other's company and yet she kept stressing that this was “just business”. Money was flowing from my work and a sizable pension and we started meeting about twice a week; sometimes for two hours and occasionally for the whole night ($1500). She told me of her life and loves. A high school dropout at 15, her first time having sex at 14, her introduction to drugs and getting addicted to heroin. Her first time giving a blowjob for money (an older guy in a Lexus beckoned her over and offered her a $100). She takes great pride in her oral skills and literally beams when told that's the best BJ I ever had.

She told me of wild sex and crazy sex while using drugs heavily while living with her son's father. Her stories had an effect on me which kind of surprised me. I'd get as hard as a rock as she told stories which could easily fill the pages of Penthouse letters. She charged me extra for CIM which I did a few times. We talked about anal, but she hesitated because that was reserved for the boyfriend. One time when we were to meet in the afternoon I called her on the way and she was screaming. She told me where she lived and I went there and learned she had bedbugs. When I picked up the corner of the mattress there were hundreds of them. She was standing in the parking lot screaming her head off wearing Daisy Duke shorts and a halter. Obviously nothing else. I dragged the mattress and box spring downstairs to the dumpster went and bought trash bags and hauled literally hundreds of pounds of clothing to the cleaners for a very hot wash. After that we went to the hotel and showered together. As we were drying each other off she remarked how she hated my mass of pubic hair. So l let her cut and shave my dick and balls. I then shaved her pussy. How erotic. We both laughed our asses off and made passionate love that night.
Occasionally she would tell me that it was hard for her to fuck me, being so much older. I understood and offered to take my business elsewhere, but she quickly backed off. Around this time she started grooming 2 other customers from the club. Both in their 50's and both with deep pockets. She told me of her meetings OTC with both and unbelievably they were paying more than I. Between the 3 of us she was clearing at least $2000 a week plus 3 shifts at the club. She told me she wanted to get a boob job and asked for my help. She was profligate with her earnings, so she asked me to hold her money. She went through the preliminary office visits and on surgery day I accompanied her to the hospital. She listed me on the consent form as the primary contact person and I waited while the tits got bigger. She went from a B to a C cup and in the recovery room lifted the bandages to give me my first glimpse of a very good $6300 boob job. I got the post surgery directions from the Dr. and brought her to a nearby hotel, rented a 2 bedroom suite, got her prescription for dilaudid filled and had a long night getting her up every 2 hours to walk. She needed a shower and I assisted washing her hair. Helping her stand and overall stabilizing her. The intimacy of her dependence combined with her helplessness made a huge impression on me.

We kept this up for several months and she started stashing cash in a safe at her mother's house. She had a period of time when her boyfriend was released on probation in a nearby state. He was to maintain residence in a halfway house but crossed over the state line and moved in with her. She told him about me and described me as a regular at the club. She also told me of their torrid lovemaking and at one point I offered to pay them both to let me watch their sex act. I actually went to their apartment and cooked dinner for the three of us. When I met him I said that it was awkward for both of us and he mumbled something about performance anxiety. The three of us went to my hotel room and she put on a stripper outfit and danced for him as I sat on a chair and watched. She stroked him, made out with him and slowly removed his clothing and then hers. She knelt before him and deepthroated him and slowly licked his balls and sucked his dick. He then threw her on the bed and licked, then kissed her cunt. He started fucking her with two fingers while lavishly working her clit with his tongue and lips. She came a couple of times and then he got on her and started fucking to beat the band. All I could hear was her moaning and his balls slapping against her ass. She then got on top and rode him frontwards and backwards until he came inside her. I had gotten up and watched his technique and it was my own private porn show. I came a couple of times just from watching and frankly twice in an hour is not part of my normal expectations.

Shortly after that they got into a fight, the neighbors called the police and he was arrested. It was a violation of his parole so he was sent back to state prison. Around this time unbeknownst to me she started smoking crack. She had hooked up with an old boyfriend from high school and the two of them went on a month long crack and heroin bender. I don't know how much money she had squirreled away but they blew through her savings in 4 or 5 weeks. While this was going on I didn't see too much of her. One time when I did, she told me of sex with her partner in crime. She swore he had a 10 inch dick and when high she could deepthroat the whole thing. I just had to see so one night I got a hotel, gave him a Viagra, and they went at it for almost four hours right in front of me. We were all smoking crack that night and it was a highly erotic night that ended at about 4:00 am. They left and at 9:00 am she returned and fucked my brains out. I had used coke back in the 80's but crack was new to me and frankly it didn't do much for me. A little buzz but I could take it or leave it.

Her drug use continued to escalate and her family wanted her to go to Hawaii and live with an ex-addict on the beach in a hut near Hilo and dry out. I met with her mother who told me that her daughter had been in residential rehab programs 17 times and none lasted. Her mother was none too pleased to think of paying for a trip to Hawaii for her to stay with a friend of her son's who has been clean for ten years. I had a ton of frequent flyer miles and offered to pay the airfare. But she needed to go through a 4 day detox program first. I offered to take her and we needed to put her furniture in storage first. So we set a moving day and she got another high school friend to help me move her stuff. I spent the night before the move at her house and started packing. Then a knock at her door – her favorite drug dealer. I was introduced and after she made her transaction she told me that they'd been fucking and he was a sexual athlete. “A Puerto Rican with a big dick”. After we had made a couple of trips with a U-Haul truck it started to rain. We had 2/3 of her stuff and the storage place was closing when she came walking downstairs wearing a g-string and nothing else. She just wanted to show her old high school buddy her new tits. He had just gotten back to Massachusetts from a 6 month stint in the LA County Jail and was mesmerized by her body. But we only had a ½ hour to unload the truck and she wasn't putting clothes on so we left her. We returned in an hour in heavy rain and there was no sign of her. I grabbed a golf umbrella and started looking in the woods around the house when a local police patrol car pulled up, shined the spotlight in my eyes and wanted to know what I was doing. They checked my ID and I told them I was a friend of the family helping this girl out and she'd gone missing. They told me that she had gone running through several neighbors' houses, naked, and screaming that the police were after her (paranoia is a common effect of crack use). I chuckled, thinking of Fred and Ethel sitting down to watch Liberace reruns when a naked stripper comes running through the house. The police told me she had been picked up by another squad car and taken to the local hospital for cuts and scratches from running through the woods. I went to the hospital and explained to the officer that I was taking her to a hospital that night for detox. He called the hospital and they stated that they were expecting her. He agreed to release her to me on the condition that she be hospitalized. So, off we went and she told me she had to make one stop at her dealer's house. I said no. No way! She said she was going to shoot heroin one last time. I stopped in the pouring rain and said get out. She did and started yelling at me. I told her I'd worked like fucking rented mule all day while she fucked around and got high. She called her mother and said “You know that guy you like so well? Well he raped me and fucked me up the ass”. I drove away. It was now 1:00 am and I had a 2 hour drive ahead of me. After 1 hour I remembered I had the key to the storage locker in my pocket. I was supposed to put it in her mother's mailbox. I turned around and my cell phone rang. It was Aria, crying and saying she'd go with me to detox.

I dropped the key off, picked her up and we got to the hospital/facility around 3:00 am. I had to wait for her intake which consisted of a full cavity search, then a shower and then a goodbye to me from across the room. She rather sheepishly said “I love you”. I replied, “I love you too. I just can't stand you”. The nurses and security guard got a good laugh out of that.

Four days later she was released and within 24 hours she was on her way to Hawaii. Her “keeper” picked her up at the airport and took her to his shack on the beach. Within 72 hours she called me to say she couldn't stay with this guy. He was a sex maniac and a drunk. I said there's a $150 change fee on your ticket. Stick it out for a few more days. The next day she called to say she was thumbing to the airport. I later learned that a 28 year old Hawaiian picked her up and as they talked he invited her to stay with his family. She called me after a couple of days and she loved the native Hawaiian lifestyle. Helani worked ½ time as a forklift operator and went spear fishing, smoked a little weed, and enjoyed life.

Within 2 weeks she had met a young man from California who had jumped bail on a burglary charge or two and they got a room together at a rooming house in Hilo. She was hired at a fast food joint but needed wheels. She called me and said that she had met a guy who would sell her his $2000 motor scooter for $500. He was leaving the island the next day. I sent her $500. Within 2 days she got hit by a car and the police discovered the motor scooter was stolen. She snuck away and then went to the hospital with a badly bruised and sprained ankle. She couldn't work and so I started sending money. This is about the time she developed a meth habit.
By the time she returned I was out $7000 and she promised to pay me back every cent. Sure.

We continued to meet OTC regularly and occasionally spiced things up by bringing another woman along for a three way. Some of that was very erotic; other times not so.
About 5 or 6 months ago her drug use began to escalate. She stood me up a couple of times, had all kinds of financial woes and wasn't herself, On more than one occasion I met some of her co-workers OTC and while they were attractive and compliant, none of them rocked my boat the way that Aria does. It's hard to quantify, impossible to explain, but she'll always be my ATF.

Over the past 2 weeks her weight has dropped under 100 lbs. Her face is gaunt and her skin has developed a pallor. She's been calling me daily begging for money. I've been telling her that I'll give her a ride to detox or to rehab but nothing else. She has had her cell phone shut off, had her car repossessed, and been evicted from her apartment. I'm guessing she's been streetwalking to buy crack. Yesterday she called from a borrowed cell phone and pleaded me to come fuck her. $200 –No; $100 – no. Last chance. I'm going away and not coming back. You'll have no way to reach me. “I'm sorry. I wish you the best, but I can't.”
And that's how it has ended. I have several thoughts on where she might be going but frankly don't want to care. She's been very special, but I can't put up with it any more. Over the past four years I figure I've spent about $200,000. Ive enjoyed it immensely but hindsight being what it is, I realize I've been played. I used her and she used me. We're even now