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For the next three minutes, I would be on this stage. I took the first step, reaching for the pole as I did so. Instinct and muscle memory kicked in then and with the first hit of the bass I began to climb the pole. The crowd whistled their approval.
I began to unfasten straps as I came down, the Velcro coming apart easily, and when I bared my right breast, the crowd went absolutely wild. I walked away from the pole then, striding to the end of the stage, my bare breast clasped in my hand until I came to a stop. I pulled the last triangle away, revealing two dark pink nipples, a slim waist, and worked my hands down, drawing every gaze as my fingers slid beneath the last triangle covering my sex.
The crowd began to beg me to take it off and power, pride, and arousal filled me. I was surprised by all three, but especially the arousal. I felt how hard my nipples were, felt the flush in my cheeks, and did a little spin, as if I’d suddenly been overcome with shyness. With the next hit of the bass, I spun back around, pulling the last strip of Velcro free until the only clothing I wore was my boots.
I’ve never heard people losing their minds before, but I did then, and money came flying at me from all directions. I took the bow I’d been instructed by Mandy to take, gathered up the stacks of money, my outfit, and left the stage with my hands full.
“Girl, you drove them nuts out there,” Anya said as soon I opened the door. “Andre will bring the rest of your money back in a few minutes. They’re getting the stage ready for Desdemona.”
“Oh, there’s more?” I asked, surprised.
“From the sound of that crowd? Oh yes, tons.” Anya winked as she put a coat on and grabbed several bags. “I hope you had fun. I’ve got to get home to my baby girl. Take care.”
“It was great. Have a good night.” I sat down after I threw on the robe that Mandy had left in the bag and tried to catch my breath. I was guzzling water when the door opened, and Ginger came back in.
“I don’t know if Mandy told you about this, but you have an offer,” Ginger announced, her hands clasped around a beautiful red rose, her eyes narrowed with worry.
“An offer? An offer for what?” I asked, then it hit me. Mandy had told me about the dancers sometimes taking offers for more ‘entertainment’ from clients. Sex. Somebody had made me an offer for sex. Fuck. “Oh, yes. Um, I don’t know about that.”
“Might I suggest I show you the client before you decide?” Ginger offered, hope in her eyes now that she knew I wasn’t about to freak out on her.
“That sounds, um.” I was about to decline, but curiosity filled me. “Can I see him without him seeing me?”
What kind of man would offer to pay me for sex?
“Yes, he won’t see you. I think you’ll want to accept this offer. He’s not one to make offers often,” Ginger said, a smile I didn’t quite understand playing around her lips.
“Okay. Show him to me,” I answered and followed her out the door.
She led me to an area just outside of the dressing rooms, a window that must be a two-way mirror. I looked out at the crowd of men and women, searching, until she pointed to a man sitting at a table with a man alone.
“Actually, he made an offer first,” she said as I cringed. The man was in his 60s at least, obviously rich, but in that overindulgent kind of way that made a man undesirable. Hell no.
I was shaking my head when she grinned. “But he made a higher offer.”
I followed her finger and gasped. It was Mr. Tiktok!
I’d been totally prepared to turn down the offers, despite my curiosity, but now? My oh my. This might be something I have to stop and think about. I looked over at Ginger, saw her smirk and gave her one back. This might be very interesting indeed.
“So how does this work?”
