How One Night in a Lap Dance Club Led to My Fascination with Strippers

I took my time applying my makeup that night. I settled on an accordion dress that swirled around my thighs with each step. My calves glistened with Vaseline as I buckled my strappy sandals. I looked at my watch and set out for the address Sean gave me. Sean was a new client who I had professionally stalked for months. I was determined to secure his advertising budget. I found a parking space near the club, a nondescript, seedy looking building on K street in Washington, D.C. with 1515 above the door. I called Sean on my cellphone.