A Girl Called Len
Chapter 2: Len reveals
Copyright© 2010 by Texrep
Len had a little flat on the top floor of a three storey Victorian building. She called it a flat, but in essence it was one room for sitting, eating and sleeping, a very small kitchen, and equally small bathroom. She showed me the kitchen asking me to make coffee then said she was going for a shower.
"Got to get all this make-up and body cover off. I won't be a sec." I found mugs, instant coffee, milk from the small fridge, and boiled the kettle. I looked askance at the power plug. It was like a Christmas tree with so many two way fitments; all plugged in to another in order to supply her various appliances. To be honest I thought it was bloody dangerous.
I made the coffee and took the mugs through to the main room. The flat had obviously been adapted into the roof space, as the ceilings sloped down at opposite ends of the room to about three feet from the floor. A bed was tucked under one, with a dormer window just over it. She had lots of bookcases and even some books, but most of the shelf space was housing various ornaments, photos, and even a pair of Ballet shoes. I looked at the photos, her Mum and Dad I recognised but there were many of people I didn't know, presumably relatives. I was surprised when I noticed at the back a photo taken in the late forties, there was Len in her Garden with one or two other kids who I thought I could put names to, and right at the back was yours truly standing shyly as if I didn't have the right to be there. I pondered the other two, one I was sure was Barry, and the little girl was ... was ... Yes! Jillian
There were two chairs either side of an electric fire which was fixed to the wall opposite the kitchen. Between the door to the kitchen and the door to the bathroom was a small table. I sat down. After a few minutes Len came bustling out of the bathroom, wearing a towelling robe, and with her hair wrapped up in another towel. The robe was very short, and did not appear to be tied all that tightly. She spotted her coffee and bent down to pick it up. As she did the robe gaped open revealing her breasts. I looked away. She noticed.
"Danny, you have already seen it all, and you paid a lot of money for the pleasure. Now you can see it for nothing." She untied the belt and held the robe open. I knew I was blushing, I could feel the heat in my cheeks. I didn't know where to look, at her breasts, her groin; of which I was seeing much more than even the little flash I got when she was on stage; or her face. It didn't matter, everything was beautiful. Len was laughing at me.
"What's the matter Danny? Don't you like what you see?" She re-tied her robe. Then she stopped laughing and a look of concern came to her face. She came over and knelt by me.
"I'm sorry Danny. I laughed at you, I shouldn't have done that." I cleared my throat of the huge boulder which somehow had lodged there.
"It's OK, Len. I know I must seem like some country bumpkin to you, but to tell the truth I was struck dumb at how lovely you are."
Len smiled, then reached up and kissed my cheek.
"Thank you, Danny." She got up and taking her coffee went and sat in the other chair.
"I'm sorry about flashing you." she apologised. "It means very little to me, I mean to show myself naked. I forget that to others it can be ... well different." I was shaking my head.
"No Len. As I said you are beautiful," she smiled when I said that, "I was still imagining you as the girl who was my friend. I was shocked at how I reacted." She didn't say anything for a moment.
"Danny, I am still the girl who was your friend. It's been ten years or so since your family moved. I didn't forget you, although you did fade a bit in my mind. But seeing you again and talking with you, just reminded me what a good friend you were."
"How did you recognise me?" I asked. "That photo over there doesn't really help. I think I was trying to hide when it was taken." Len smiled.
"I kept that one as it was the only photo I had with you in it. You hated having your photo taken if I remember rightly." She paused then went on. "You haven't changed that much, Danny. You were fifteen when I last saw you, it's only ten years. Did you recognise me?"
"Well sort of, I thought it could have been you on stage, but then told myself I was mistaken. But you have changed." She grinned.
"Yes, I suppose I have. I didn't have these then." She indicated her breasts. "I was flat as a pancake when I was fourteen. And ... I don't suppose you imagined seeing your childhood friend taking her clothes off on stage." I shook my head.
"A bit of a surprise, yes."
I asked the question, that I had been longing to ask, and Len wanted to answer.
"So how did you get into stripping?" She laughed, and I must admit I liked to hear her laugh.
"At last the question." She exclaimed. "OK. You know I wanted to be a Ballet dancer." I nodded, I had known that. "Well I tried really hard, but gradually I understood that I was never going to make the grade. My dancing was good, but not good enough, and I was becoming a little too voluptuous to be accepted. I liked my food too much, and the idea of starving four or five days a week was way beyond what I was prepared to do. So I quit the school. I did a bit of temping for a few months whilst I tried to think what I could do. Then in 'The Stage' I saw an advert asking for dancers to audition for a troupe. I went, auditioned, and got a position. This was an all girl troupe, doing basic revue stuff, you know, synchronised dancing in line, doing high kicks and knee lifts. We rehearsed for three months, and then got a booking in Paris. It wasn't one of the big theatres, but it was Paris. The 'Bluebell Girls' we were not, but we were good enough." She took a sip of coffee. As she did that I commented
"That sounds good. What happened?"
"Yes," she said. "It was too good to last. Our contract was six months, and most of us were sure it would be renewed. But suddenly two of the girls left to get married. Then another three wanted to get home to England. They didn't like Paris it seemed. Well you can replace one or two, but with five gone, we couldn't renew the contract, without going into rehearsal after finding five new members for another few weeks, and the theatre boss wouldn't wait for us. But he did make an offer for any of us who would do it. He wanted some topless showgirls. Now showgirls didn't dance, they just paraded gracefully around the stage and posed. The important thing was the money. It was much better than we got individually for dancing. I decided to have a go."
I had seen pictures in magazines, and the occasional clip on TV, so I understood what she was describing.
"Was it like the Folies Bergere, or The Crazy Horse?" Len nodded.
"Yes, Danny, but it wasn't as posh as those places. The next production, and I was there, tights, a Cache-sexe, loads of tall feathers, and bare-breasted." I interrupted her.
"A what? You said a cache something or other." Len explained.
"A Cache-sexe. It what they call those very small panties, designed to show all of your bum and thighs, but just covering your pussy. They also cover the waist on your tights. There were even smaller styles, just covering the front bit." My mind was overwhelmed.
"How do they keep those in place?"
"Glue Danny, they use washable glue."
"I would bet you looked bloody great in that costume." Len smiled again, she seemed to like it when I told her she looked good.
"I have some pictures somewhere, I'll look them out for you."
"So you didn't mind being topless?" She shook her head.