It had become a ritual with me—going to the strip clubs after I’d finished working on set. I told myself that I was seeking empowerment by watching other woman. Real women, not just the crazy actresses I was surrounded by in Hollywood.

I would just grab a table in the back and watch. There was this one girl that I found myself fantasizing about long after I’d left. Her name was Corazon. She had only worked at club Cheetah for six months, and because of her, I began to come more frequently. Every time I’d watch her smile, giggle, and pounce on the laps of the male patrons, I’m never able to figure out why she works at a strip club.

            At around two o’ clock every morning she would get really frisky and become catlike.  She’d be purring, pawing and prancing across the stage as if she were in heat. I could tell she loved being naked by the way she ended every routine. At the end of her routines, she would lie on her back touching herself while she stared up vacantly at the money that appeared to fall from the heavens and cover her.

 I rose from my chair and waved her over as she was collecting a few dollars from off the stage. She smiled at me and gestured for me to “Hold on a minute.” “Take your time,” I mouthed. I took a sip of my cranberry juice and tapped nervously. What was I gonna say to this girl? Then she appeared, a vision in white, smiling.

            “Hi, how are you, I’m Corazon,” she said extending her hand. She was fucking gorgeous! I stared at her with my mouth open. Corazon laughed and pointed.

            “You really should close that up, because something might fly in it.” She sat down next to me and I could smell her hair. It smelled of raspberry passion and spearmint spray. We didn’t speak to each other. I just watched her smile absently past me as she rested her leg on my lap. I stared at the side of her face, burning her profile in my mind. Her lips pouted over, red and juicy. She grinded her pelvis to the beat, shutting her eyes occasionally, and waved her hands high above her head, arching her back.

            “Shit this is my song,” she squealed.   A waitress came by and handed her a drink. I watched as her tongue dip furtively in and out the glass and tap the ice cubes.

            “Why do you work here?” I blurted out.

            “What?” she said. “What do you mean? I like it here. It’s the shit.”

I leaned into her, careful not to touch. She stared at me back directly in the eyes, and then laughed.

            “How old are you?” I asked.

            “Nineteen.”

            “You’re nineteen years old working in a place like this!” I couldn’t believe it. “Look, you’re fucking beautiful and I want to take you home with me.” She reached her hand out to my face and began to stroke my cheek, searching to see if I were serious. I never broke my gaze. She twirled her straw and gently flicked its contents on my face. She laughed. “Where do you live Mija?”

            “I live in a condo in Los Feliz. It’s nice. You’ll like it. It’s only me. I have wine, water, and orange juice. I can order food. Or eat you? Whatever you want,” I stammered.            She straddled me rubbing her Dulce de Leche’s all over my boca.  “Look,” I said pulling my face out from her cleavage. I have never been with a woman. I am not a predator or a creep. I just think that you are so fucking beautiful. I don’t want to do anything but get you to my house and look at you.”

            “What about fuck me, and tease me, and let me eat on your pussy and stick my finger up your ass.” Wow! “Ok, that’s cool too,” I said. “Let’s just go.” I placed my hand inconspicuously on my stomach and pointed two fingers out and touched her clit. She grinded her cunt against my jeans, and sucked down the final remnants of her drink.  “Now,” I said. “Fine,” she said. “But I got a better place to go. We’re going to my house.”

            We jumped in my car and drove east into Koreatown. Corazon was letting the wind blow through hair while she made phone calls. Her place was a mix of Salvation Army chic meets the Fredrick’s of Hollywood, accented with 99-cent store finds. I sat down on the couch and stared the innumerable pictures of Corazon that covered every inch of the living room. “Turn on the TV. Make yourself at home,” she said as she excused herself and went into her bedroom. I turned on the set, and a Brazilian porn boomed out at me. 

She went into the kitchen and poured us two rum and cokes. “I’ll pass,” I said. “AA. Sorry.” “That’s cool, but you don’t mid if I drink do you?” “No go right ahead.” She went back in her room again. I heard her throwing things around and cursing. “Where is it?” she screamed. I was trying to get into the movie, but Corazon was making so much racket that I was getting nervous. “Hey, you gonna come out here baby?” I asked. “Yeah, just chill, I’m looking for something. Just watch that movie.” Out of nowhere, a knock came at the door, and I heard Corazon race for it, knocking over boxes and bobbles.

There was laughing and deep voices in the halls and then she shut the door. “I got the E. I got the E,” she sang, clutching the baggy in her hand. Corazon bee lined for the couch and sat down next to me. I am gonna get fucked up tonight!" she laughed. She bounced down beside me, eyes as black as marbles. She seemed to grow talons as she sifted through the bag. “You want some?” she asked not letting me answer, although I didn’t.  “This is what I was waiting for.” She was talking to herself. “…I did coke earlier and then I had some shots. I was looking for my mota, but fuck it. I’m gonna do three of these and then we can fuck all night long. You’ll see. You’ll see, “ she sniffled. 

She threw the little white devils down her throat and lit a cigarette. “ This shit feels so good when it kicks in,” she continued.”… and then I have people over and we start fucking and it feels so good. You’ll see.” She was smiling so hard she looked like she was crying.

 She ran around the house cutting on and cutting off the lights, finally leaving them off. She pulled out all her sex toys, lube and two headed dildos and turned on the music. “You want me to take off my clothes.” “Sure,” I said. I couldn’t move from my spot on the couch, she took up the whole room. In a matter of minutes she had turned up the volume on the porn, stripped out of her clothes, taken a shower, danced around to her stereo until she finally sat on my lap and told me about her abusive childhood and leaving home at sixteen. As she transitioned from personality to personality, so did the shadows on her face, as if she were stepping in and out of the light.

            She cried and laughed, and lapped me up for what seemed like hours. She did so much more, but I can’t remember. By the time the sun came up I had cum twice.

She gave me a hug as she walked me to the door. I felt dirty, like I'd been sleeping under the freeway all night. “You’re my best friend,” she said looking deep into my eyes. I patted her head. I wanted to leave my clothes, and everything I came with right there and run for it. 

When I shut the door behind me I saw three men on their way up the stairs. I didn’t even look to see where they were going. That was my last time ever at a strip club.