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Reflections of Jennifer


Again - Jennifer is dominating my thoughts - like some obsessive rhyme or song that you can't dismiss, even as you are forced to move along with other important head movements. I can’t get her out of my head.

Now-- the picture of having seen her once again won't leave me. I'm almost distraught because of the way she looked! I can't get her image out of my mind's eye.

I have been seeking her out in a local strip club now for around two years. Her beauty has not only captivated me, it has proven to be incredibly energetic magic that I enjoy merely when under her spell. As I have told her often, she is in a league of beauty that I would have never even considered approachable in all my years before meeting her. Now she actually frightens me because she appears to be on some kind of self death-wish…ready to destroy all of that incredible power and beauty!

The horrible monkey-on-her-back is starting to rear its ugly head and is making gains on crushing the unusually powerful strength she had developed before heroin. Her dark addiction is showing the inevitable physical/mental decline I have seen in so many other addicts I’ve known. It makes me want to scream and to cry out loud in hopeless protest of this tragedy and social injustice that I can do nothing to stop!

Her once vibrant eyes are now sadly sunken balls encased in discolored flesh that is pushed to the back of her skull with a definite zombie look and glaze that tells anyone: this beautiful young woman is completely drugged and out of control. It seems almost unlikely that she is actually standing and functioning.

Borderline personality disorder is dominating her body language and she is nervous as she tries to focus on which of her many character roles that I fit into. This initially gives her obvious confusion when we first awkwardly reconnect (for the first time in weeks). Later she would say that everything is so crazy this night because ..."there must be a full moon“. The fact is, it was just after 10 o'clock at night and she was extremely busy (as usual), applying her craft: enticing men to enjoy her incredible sexual pleasures with skills and controls that only a true temptress could possess.

Things were popping and business was happening very quickly for her… so much so that seeing me panicked her with a dead giveaway look of “…this is the last motherfucker…” she wanted to bump into and deal with on this particular evening. The club was packed. One man after the other appeared to be pushing into her aura as she performed sexual pleasures for them. Masterfully she does her job - the same way as always. Many of the men are her regulars. Most all are aware that she will not disappoint them. Just like me, others are convinced that she is the top attraction. The way she stays in constant demand proves that all of us horney bastards are right!

I already knew this is the way it would be before I even came looking for her; so in spite of my desire to run up to her - to hold and kiss her passionately -- and to get a warm welcome back hug, I must control myself! Play acting is such an important part of the stripper club scene when you are mingling with today's hip-hopped Felliniesque nightclub world. It is usually best to never reveal anything to the observing public.

Soon she makes her way over to the end of the very crowded and crazy bar where I have been standing having a drink. It feels really good that she finally gives me some needed attention. My infatuation with her makes it so very hard for me not to lose it all and embrace her by taking her into my arms for the kiss of my life. But of course, I kept all of that to my private fantasy and I just pretended she was some casual acquaintance stripper girl. That didn’t last long.

Her beautiful body immediately grabbed my attention and my hands uncontrollably began touching her bare skin any place where I could discretely touch her. My heart practically stopped when she did not object to me placing my right index finger between her thighs as it slid across the top of her silky thong covering her sweet pussy. I was dying to taste her juices and to feel the moist lips of her fabulous vagina against my tongue. She eventually warmed up to me (a little), but she had so many distracting things around her that I could only get a few seconds at a time from her to partially focus on me.

I could sense her mind calculating: who else is she around? Who are the others she is talking to? Who represents how many dollars (income) to support her out-of-control lifestyle on this busy Friday night? She knows that I have very little money most of the time. She also knows now, that whatever I have in my pocket she will have in her purse when I leave. So knowing that, it is easier for her to keep me on the side and hustle me while she continues negotiating with at least three or more other clients.

It is really crazy, but I accept it because I know and must respect what she is doing because I know why she must do it. It makes me sick…but I am as addicted to her as she is to the drug that controls her every dark infused action.

I know that she needs food, and that she is not taking care of her nutrition any longer. That really distresses me because I have seen her at an earlier time in her youth at her better physical peak. Now I look at her, and she displays definite signs of her rapidly occurring decline...and it kills me to see it while it goes un-noticed by her!

I offer to buy her some food (which she needs and accepts along with several drinks). Even though I am normally a one-wine and out drinker, I too am nervous, so I am indulging in shots of Hennessey to calm myself down. Briefly and slowly she starts letting me back into our communication level of friends knowing each other’s lifes.

She begins the familiar discussion of her complicated life. She is totally depressed, stressed and confused. I look at her face and her anxieties alone are changing the looks of her outer facade. She nervously and hushed - talks about wanting to go away to be in a detox program somewhere out-of-state. Briefly she talks about the need to stay in communication with me because she may be going away someplace and afterwards going to jail to take care of a warrant that is outstanding for her arrest. She has said things like this to me before; but when I have often tried to open lines of communication – she always flat lines me by never responding to any of my calls or texts. I hate that- but she says her need to be withdrawn is her reason for ignoring me. Whatever that means?

Most of what she says I have heard before, but I feel a stronger sense of urgency from her tonight for some reason. Her lack of sobriety for so many years is taking a major toll on everything about her and in some way she appears to be reaching out and asking for me to help her. But when I try to offer possible solutions - as usual, she just backs away and doesn't respond to me. She makes me feel she doesn't really want to help herself -- so she must be confused about why some old man like me would even suggest wanting to help her. Her mistrust of men in general and their motives is certainly a major issue that she deals with daily. She encounters only the worst so she expects the worst from all men.

I don't know… it is all so very confusing -- I feel I need to help her as a true statement of my friendship and the genuine love I have developed for her. I feel that if she would let me help her and prove that I believe in her, that she would allow me to really be her friend. Instead, I am sure I am just wishing that we were close friends while she considers me just another old fucker wanting her for sexual pleasures.

Since she has a boyfriend addict (who she is also supporting with her amazing large income ability), I really have no more interest in giving her money for him and her. So in effect, I feel I am kind of forced to give up my sexual desires of enjoying her dances with me, (the pleasure of fantasy dry fucking her while she table dances for me and paying dollars for that privilege). Now, oddly enough, I feel I need to show her that my interest is beyond my sexual needs. That of course, is going to be extremely hard for me as she has awakened my sexual desires like no other woman ever succeeded in my entire life! However, if that is what I need to sacrifice in order to get her to understand that my desire to help is sincere, then my sexual desires will need to stop. That is a big "ouch" for me, but for Jennifer's survival, it would be one I would give up.

After she had spent her obligatory dinner time with me at the bar, she gathered up herself, took the rest of my money with her and brushed me a short kiss on the lips goodbye. I had to "man-up to myself" that my few moments of bliss and an exciting Friday night were over. Now I was left with only good thoughts of being happy that I had at least seen her.

After hanging around for another hour or more to catch a last glimpse of her - it never happened…because she stayed engaged in one trick after the other. I left with a bitter sweet memory of the evening. But since it was so easy to have been predicted, I just tried to go home happy and somewhat satisfied that I had actually spent time with Jenn.

Since that meeting with my druggy heartbreaker stripper, I have done nothing but dream of her and think about how looking into that skeletal, yet sadly beautiful face, really hurt me to my very inner core. I feel she is losing the same battle that I have fought forever... and it sickens me!

She is young... I am old. I will live... She will die.

Before that happens I hope she will agree to have at least one more dinner date with me.