Long Island. Wednesday, February 15, 1990.
It was sunny and extremely cold. Breath turned to ice crystals.
Brian, dressed in jeans, heavy white sweatshirt and Jets' jacket, left the Jets' training center shortly after two P.M. and took a taxi to Runway Thirty-eight, an upscale strip joint several blocks from La Guardia. The crowd acknowledged him with a standing ovation. Waiters rushed to deliver free drinks to him. Girls danced for him, gave him special attention, while and after they removed their clothing.
He loved it. Runway Thirty-eight and its strippers had allowed him to recapture the rapture of a steady diet of attention so long missing from his life.
Twenty-two year old Tina DeSouza, a tall slender raven haired Cuban beauty, centered her entire routine directly in front of Brian. The climax of her performance was as close possible to him, with his line of sight directly between her legs. She smiled and winked as she briefly pulled aside the business end of her G-string.
"Wow!" Brian shouted, aroused and excited by her antics. He stuffed a ten dollar bill inside her G-string and asked her to sit at his table.
Tina accepted willingly. Clad only in her red silk track suit and still panting, she took a chair beside him.
He leaned toward her and placed his right arm around her shoulders. "Hi, I'm Brian," he said with a big lecherous smile, his dark brown eyes riveted on the tops of her perfect breasts.
Tina flashed a coy smile. "I know who you are. Doesn't everybody?"
"Would you like a drink?"
"Sure. Gin and tonic."
Brian turned and waved at his waitress, a six foot and change peroxide blonde with blue lipstick and astounding measurements.
She approached the table and leaned toward him, dangling her bare breasts close to his face. "More of the same, Brian?" she asked.
"Yup, and a gin and tonic for Tina."
Tina unzipped the top of her track suit to expose more of her breasts, then reached under the table and placed her hand on his thigh, inducing an almost immediate erection. "I enjoy dancing for you. I feel appreciated."
The waitress returned with the drinks and placed them on the table. "They're on the house, Brian," she said, then left.
Brian raised his glass and took a huge gulp, then returned his gaze to Tina's breasts. "How long have you been doing this?" he asked.
"This is my third year."
"Does it pay well?"
"I make at least fifteen hundred a week, almost all tax free."
"Amazing. I had no idea. You married?"
Tina shook her head. "I live alone with my kitten, but I'm going to quit this business as soon as I have saved enough money. Then I'm going to get married and have a whole bunch of kids."
"Then you really don't enjoy stripping?"
She winked, placed her hand between his legs, and stroked his erect penis. "I do when you're here... I have to get ready for my next show," she said, then leaned close to Brian's ear. "I'm free after that. If you take me home, I'll give you the best dance you've ever seen."
Brian stayed, drank more rum and thought of his wife as he watched Tina's last performance. He was troubled. To this point in his life he had never made love to any other woman. "You can't do this!" he admonished himself.
By the time Tina was once again naked and lying on the stage floor with her legs straddling his line of vision, his decision was made. Her private performance offer was impossible to refuse. "Why not?" he said aloud.
Tina led Brian into her apartment, a small but neat one-bedroom flat, less than a mile from Runway Thirty-eight. She poured a large rum and coke, handed it to him then pointed to the couch. "Sit over there and relax. I'm going to ring your bell." she promised.
She turned on her cassette player, then gave Brian a super seductive performance, no longer constrained by the stringent rule of her employer, free to make physical contact with Brian in very sensual and provocative ways.
Long before the music was completed, they had frantically assisted each other in the removal of clothing, the event culminating in a desperate love making crescendo in the center of the living room rug. Brian closed his eyes, exhilarated, but guilty. He had cheated, broken his marriage vows to Kerri for the first time.