Our boss, Rick, keeps pestering me about it. It's the reason why he hired me. In hopes that one day he would see my body work the pole like it was my very own vibrator.
Like I said, he's fucking disgusting and dreadfully crude but like all the other girls here I put up with his perverted sick mind because I need this job.
Steven, the social worker who comes to our trailer once a week to check up on the living conditions for Connor, specifically told me I need to make more money to be financially stable to gain full custody.
I only work as a barmaid here. Compared to the strippers the money I make amounts to practically nothing. All the money I could make on tips goes to them. Men don't come here to spend their money on the barmaid who is serving the liquor cheap to keep them buying. They spend their money on the girl who is fucking the pole or giving them favors.
So forgive me if I have entertained the thought once or twice on going up on that stage myself.
My pride is too big to ask for money from Alice and the members of Vipers MC but not big enough to strip for easily eager men.
I suppose in this town a person could do worse.
"You're looking blue, cupcake," Sasha, one of the strippers says to me.
Sasha is a beautiful woman. No, she's actually stunning. With a deep skin tone, wild black vivacious curls any girl would be jealous of, full sensuous lips, and eyes the color of amber Sasha is a vision. Her long legs are accentuated even more by the seven inch heels she has on. They have ribbons that tie all the way up her muscular calves.
It always struck me odd how a stunning girl like her could be from this same crime ridden seedy town like me.You look at Sasha and become hypnotized. Jaw goes slack with awe and youcan't formulate one thought.Men want her and women want to be her.
"And what color am I usually?" I tease knowing all too well the reason why I am looking blue.
She places a hand on her hip. "Red."
"Red," I echo.
She nods her head. "Fiery and sassy with a heart that bleeds with love. You're red, cupcake. And blue doesn't look good on you. Now tell me what has you so blue."
I wave a hand in dismissal. "It's nothing really."
She raises a brow at me and purses her lips.
Giving in without much of a fight to begin with I tell her. "I had a talk with the social worker who is assigned to Connor. I have to make more money otherwise I won't be able to file for custody."
Her amber eyes fill with sympathy. "What are you thinking?"
"You're going to laugh at me."
"And why would I do that?"
I bite my lip nervously. Fuck. Okay. Just say it. "I'm thinking about stripping.” My voice is as small as a mouse.
"Why would I laugh at you for that? I strip and you have never once judged me for it."
Okay, fair point. "But you look like an actual goddess, Sasha. And if I went up on that pole I wouldn't know what to do. When you're up there it's not cheap or sleazy. You make it an art form. A performance."
"Now don't tell me you don't see how fucking beautiful you are. Gracie Mae you are a bombshell," she compliments me. "You have the body of Marylin Monroe and that woman was the epitome of sex."
Hearing her compliment me boosts my ego. Not that I ever had a problem with it. I know how I look. I know the body I have.But hearing it come from Sasha? Well, that's the highest fucking compliment.
"Doesn't mean I can work a pole."
Her eyes roll to the back of her head. "Anyone can work a pole, cupcake. It's called confidence. I've seen you shake that ass of yours. You got moves. If it's something you really want to do I can teach you."
I almost choke on my own saliva. "You would teach me?"
"Have to learn from the best to be one of the best."
"You're not going to talk me out of it?"
