Saturday, January 30, 2021

Danger Fuels Passion In This Incredibly Naughty Story


About three years ago, I narrowly escaped with my life.

It is an incredible story about fear, danger, sex, and passion...

And I'm going to tell you it.

But first, if you have contacted me through my
annie@nakedtruth.ca
email in the last week or so, I didn't receive it. 

My nakedtruth.ca email service was down while I was transferring the domain name to another company.

Please re-send any emails I may have missed!

Also, thank you to everyone who has responded to my survey! I am surprised that in its first week, there have been over 40 participants! 

Here is the link, if you missed it: https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/K6K33C2

Next week, I will share the results. xoxoxo


Now, back to my story...

I was working as a Massage Goddess at The Byrd strip club in Whalley.

I liked giving massages to the after-work crowd: guys who hadn't gone home from work yet.

They were in a good mood, not drunk yet, wanted to wind down from their day, and I knew all the regulars from stripping in that club for over 17 years.

My routine was to work until the crowd started to turn rowdy. This usually happened around 9 or 10 pm.

I would say goodnight to all my inebriated friends and clients and head out the back door, where I would smoke a joint and chat with the smokers for a few minutes before heading across the parking lot to the nightclub, Panchos.

Panchos was never busy this early. Things didn't really pick up until around 11 or so, which was perfect for me.

I would buy a drink, head to my spot on the dance floor and dance until I could dance no more.

As the club filled up, I would either leave to go home to my kids. Or, when they were at their dad's house, I would stay until the lights came on.

I would stay on the dance floor for 90% of the rest of the night.

One night, in particular, I said goodbye to the rowdy men in The Byrd who were stringing me along, pretending they wanted to buy massages but first they wanted to buy me a drink, etc.

Outside the back door, I struck up a conversation with a couple of guys who had bought massages from me before. I lit a joint and we smoked it, laughing and chatting, not a care in the world.

Suddenly, the two guys I was talking to, having looked past me to something that startled them, darted away from me, one hid around the corner of the wall and the other jumped behind a concrete post.

Two men had just exited the strip club and one of them turned around really fast and went back in the club. The other guy hid behind a car.

Completely unaware of what was happening, I slowly turned around to find myself staring down the barrel of gun.

My brain pieced it all together belatedly.

One of the guys who had come out of the bar was the target. He was hiding behind a car now.

The guy holding the gun was drunk as fuck!

He stood there swaying with his wavering gun unsteady and his eyes unfocused.

"Come out of there," he yelled at the guy behind the car. But his eyes were locked on me.

I was frozen to the spot sensing that any sudden movement could set him off.

"I'm sorry, man!" yelled the dude behind the car.

After what seemed like forever but was only seconds, the would-be shooter started to swivel his gun towards the sound of the guy's voice instead of aiming at me. 

Just as I thought I was out of the woods, the gun went off!

A bullet flew past my ear and hit the wall behind me, ricocheting into the guy hiding behind the post. He fell to the ground and started screaming and holding his ankle.

Looking back at the shooter, I saw that he still held the gun but it wasn't trained on me. I knew the police would be coming. The last thing I needed was to be seen talking to police in this neighbourhood!

As I melted into the shadows between the strip club and the night club, I watched the shooter turn and flee from the parking lot. 

His target tried to get back into the strip club but several bouncers stood inside the door refusing to let him in. He ended up taking off towards the front parking lot, while buddy with the bullet in his ankle continued to cry and beg for help.

I felt bad for him, but there was nothing I could do.

After making sure no one was looking my way, I slipped into Panchos. I could hear the sirens. The cops and ambulance were on their way.


Inside the club, the music was blaring and the night club staff were oblivious to the near murder that took place outside. There were maybe twenty customers standing around the pool tables and dance floor.

I asked for two shots and a vodka on ice. The bartender looked at me funny because I usually ordered a vodka and a bottled water.

I shrugged, forced a smile, and said, "I worked hard tonight. I deserve it."

"Absolultely," he replied, winking at me. 

I drank both shots, then made my way to the dance floor. I had my own spot where I could put my drink on the speaker and shove my purse inside the speaker.

The rest of the night, I stayed on the dance floor. I was surprised when no police officers came into the night club to ask questions. I could see their lights flashing in the parking lot when people came through the doors.

A dancer friend from the strip club approached me. "Did you see what happened?"

"No," I replied. "What? What happened?" I hoped I sounded convincing.

"Some guy got shot in the back parking lot right after you left tonight. I thought you might have seen it."

"Holy shit!" I feigned shock. "I must have just missed it! Anyone we know?"

"Yeah, Jamie," she said. "He's a regular at the club. You'd recognize him if you saw him."

"Wow," I replied. "Poor guy. I hope he's okay."

"He's okay," she said. "He might have a limp but he'll live. He was shot in the ankle."

"Shit, well, at least he's alive." It was all I could think of to say.


After that, my memory gets fuzzy for a bit. I drank a lot but I also danced a lot. I remember talking to the other guy who had been with me when everything went down. He had been out with the guy who got shot.

He said, "That's crazy what happened tonight, hey?"

I looked at him and replied, "I don't know what  you're talking about."

His expression changed for a moment, then he rushed to assure me that he hadn't talked to the cops and he'd never tell anyone that I was there.

It didn't really matter. The only one that was a threat to me already knew I'd been there. The shooter.

I told him thank you and that's all I can recall of the conversation.

I remember feeling woozy from the vodka. I bought a bottled water and went outside for some fresh air. It was late now and the cops were gone.

I reflected on the events of the evening. How had I been so calm when I was so scared? You never know how you're going to react in a situation until it happens to you... that's for sure!


I was sitting on a concrete barrier, sipping water and thinking about the meaning of life, when a gorgeous man walked up to me.

"What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" he asked.

I couldn't help it, I burst out laughing. There was no rhyme or reason and I hoped I wasn't offending him, but I couldn't stop. I giggled so hard, I had tears coming out of my eyes.

What WAS a nice girl like me doing in a place LIKE THIS?

It was a question I had been asking myself without even realizing it, ever since I stared down the barrel of that gun earlier tonight.

Then I remembered...

I may be a nice girl, but I'm a bad girl. Women, like me, who strip or give massages in strip clubs, are considered bad. Our niceness doesn't really matter. And needless to say... we are often found in parking lots drinking bottled water.

I laughed harder.

Not to mention, if I could dance in a nightclub five nights a week for the rest of my life... I would.

This last thought helped me gain control of myself. My life.


With effort, I stopped laughing.

I was here to dance, then hopefully find an after party. I definitely wasn't ready to go home yet.

Fortunately, the gorgeous hunk of a man in front of me wasn't put off by my emotional, maniacal giggling. He seemed to be amused.

"Sorry," I said. "I just found what you said really funny." I pushed fresh giggles back down as they threatened to erupt again. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Looking surprised, he said, "Why no, you can't. But I will buy you a drink."

"I've had a lot to drink already."

"Well, then. I hope you will still join me and if you decide you'd like a drink, please let me know. I'm Fergus."

I liked his politeness and chivalry. Guys like him seem far and few between these days.

He was a strapping Scottishman, with an accent to boot.

My plan was to seduce him and forget about my crazy night. But my plan was thwarted by an instinct that came out of the womb with me - the instinct to dance. 

I inevitably wandered away from Fergus and found my way to the dance floor, losing myself in the music. 


When the lights came on, the gorgeous man named Fergus was gone.

I shuffled out of the bar with my friends from the strip club who had migrated over after their shifts.

"Hey Annie, want to go to an after party?"

That was precisely what I wanted to do. I caught a ride in a cab with my friends.  

Later, it was probably around 4 am, I was sitting around a fire outside at the after party, when I noticed someone standing beside me in my peripheral vision.

I looked up. It was Fergus. He was smiling at me.

"Hello, Annie," he said. "I'm not following you, I promise."

"How do you know I'm not following you?" I asked.

"Because I just arrived," he said, smirking.

Fergus sat in a chair beside me at the fire and we talked until the sun came up. People were trickling out of the house and down the driveway. Cabs were showing up, one after another. 

Fergus offered to share a cab and pay for me to get home. I climbed into the backseat of the cab with him. I had no intention of going home just yet.

When Fergus put his hand on my leg like a gentleman, insinuating his intentions, I took his hand like a horny slut and slid it up the inside of my thigh. 

The rest of the cab ride, I was driven wild with arousal feeling his hand surreptitiously rubbing me between my legs.


We went to his place.

The second we were through the door, we were all over each other, frantic, urgently needing each other. 

I fucked that man like it was the last day of my life. 

All the nervous excitement of almost dying in The Byrd parking lot had me revved up. I did things that morning that I will never admit to anyone. 

My naughtiness was maxxed out and my arousal was through the roof.

Fergus rose to the challenge and matched my passion with his own. His hard, throbbing cock pierced me so exquisitely that I quivered when he entered me.

My nipples stayed hard for the entire encounter. The whole experience was in itself, like a powerful orgasm with even more powerful multiple orgasms on top. 

Just writing about it makes my heart race and my pussy hot!

When Fergus came, he came loudly, thrusting his hips smoothly several times as he bellowed his triumph. I clung to him, riding those waves into a final climax of my own. 


In those moments after, as we separated our bodies and cleaned up, I was in a whole other world. My head was fuzzy. My legs were wobbly. My mind was blank.

The only thing that registered was the pleasurable hum of my body as I mechanically moved around. It was the most relaxed I had felt in a long time.

Fergus was just the distraction I needed.

We spent the whole day in bed, as I had no kids at home that day and he was a bachelor.

He cooked me breakfast, we slept. We made love again.  

We talked. 

But I did not share what had happened to me that night. My own safety depended on it. I wanted to erase my part in that encounter by not acknowledging it at all or bringing attention to myself. 

The shooter would hopefully know that if anyone ratted on him, it wasn't me.

It has been years now and nothing ever came of that night that I know of.

The guy who was shot never came back to the bar again but I saw his friend all the time. We never spoke of that night.

Fergus moved back to Scotland and our brief liaison ended. We're still Facebook friends.

And if you believe any of that, I am a great storyteller!


Did I keep your attention? Did you read to the end? 

This story is pure fiction inspired by a novel I'm reading right now. It's called "Black Ice" by Becca Fitzpatrick. It's the best novel I've read in a long time.

It is full of danger and romance, but NO fucking or orgasms. LOL

I wanted to see if I could write like the author of that book, but spice it up a little. Did I have you hooked?

I hope you have a wonderful week full of horny thoughts about a naughty little Massage Goddess in White Rock BC!

Love Annie


Text or Email today!
236-881-1444
hallelujah.dream@gmail.com

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