My feet returned to the ground after I released my thigh grip on the pole. Instinctively, my right arm wrapped around the pole as I reached up with my left hand over my head to the bar. I stuck my left leg straight out and then automatically began spinning backwards around the pole. My right leg wrapped naturally around the pole as I spun.
Coming out of the back hook, I reached up high again with both hands and lifted myself up. Both legs wrapped around the pole, but this time I didn’t cross them at the ankles. I gripped the pole tightly with my hands and my thighs. I even bent one leg at the knee and extended it again, flashing a smile at my new pole dancing benefactor.
I was showing off and I knew it.
I don’t know if it was the adrenaline or months of practice paying off, but my pole dancing was on point tonight. Mr. Dark Eyes must have liked it, too. A third twenty-dollar-bill had found its way onto the stage.
The applause and whistles from the other men continued. It sounded louder than what Heather had earned, but that may have just been my vanity suddenly sparked by this newfound attention. Or it was simply my proximity to them. Their shouts. Their stares.
A final spin and I ended up with my feet on the stage floor and I was facing away from my new patron. I did a back bend holding onto the pole and let the wrap around top slide off of one arm. I could see him behind me and he leaned in close to the stage, adding another twenty in front of him. He waved the bill at me before I flipped up to an upright position and let the other side of my wrap around fall to the floor.
The cat calls began in earnest.
“Take it off, Darling.”
“Don’t be shy.”
“Show us what you got!”
“Be my Muse, Baby!”
In any other setting, I would have been disgusted by the things those men said, all to exhort me to take off my top. Here though, on the dance floor stage of the Cherry Pie, with twenty, no thirty men shouting at me, with the music beating the primal rock beats of this song, I felt my nipples stiffen, and I felt a primal urge to bare myself to them. All of them.Holy shit Reggie!
“Centerfold”began playing after my first song had finished. I had no obligation to dance further. I could have just walked off, but I felt like a sex goddess and I liked the feeling.
I strutted around the stage, moving away from the man who had laid out four twenty-dollar bills in front of him. Everyone had some cash out and while a majority of them were one-dollar bills, a few men laid out a five or a ten, hoping to lure me into giving them some attention. I don’t know why I did what I did. Call it obstinate. Call it rebellion.
I got down on all fours and crawled up to the first man at the edge of the stage opposite Mr. Dark Eyes, who had his one-dollar bills out, and shook my breasts at him. It wasn’t the most graceful. I hadn’t practiced shimmying my breasts as much as I’d practiced the pole dancing. It seemed to do the trick though as it won a smile from him and he slid a dollar beneath my panties on my hip.
I moved down the line, giving every man a smile and a shake of my head and hair or—if they tipped well—my breasts. Occasionally, I’d turn my ass to them and twerk as best as my forty-five-year-old ass could. That definitely needed some work.
I worked my way around one side of the stage and squatted before the next man in front of me. Then, for the next man, I progressed to Heather’s move with my hands on the floor behind me and my hips undulating and thrusting towards those bearing gifts for me.
The primal feeling of dancing before these men flooded me with sensations. My body tingled and I could feel sweat building on my body from the heat and exertion. My nipples pressed against the fabric of my bra, eager to be free. To be sucked on.
I felt like a harem girl dancing in front of her Sheik and his warriors in a desert tent. I felt like Dulcinea dancing before the men in the tavern in the tale of Don Quixote. Suddenly I was a young maiden dancing around the campfire, trying to catch the eye of the strongest and most handsome warrior.
The sensations turned into pleasure and rippled through me. I felt my a wetness forming between my legs. My arousal seemed to pale compared to the lust and desire in the eyes and pants of those feeding me their green. Their imagined arousal excited me.
The calls to take it all off had heightened. Everyone asked now.
“Oh, come on. Take it off for me.”
“If I give you a fiver, if you take your top off?”
None had swayed me, although the thought of doing so thrilled me..
I came to the dark-eyed stranger and rather than drawing closer; I crawled past him and his five twenty-dollar bills—he’d added another—to the beginning of the stage. Five more men with bills and hard-ons had money to take, and I wanted the handsome man who tried to impress me with his money to simmer and stew. The power of my body and its effect on these men had gone to my head and to other places in my body.
Soon my second song was done and the DJ, rather than calling an end to my set, played another song. He could feel the energy building in the room. Maybe Mr. Dark Eyes had some pull at the club, too. For whatever reason, “Magic Man”by Heart played over the stage speakers, giving me another four minutes to entertain the crowd.
Finished with the remaining men, I approached my mysterious benefactor on all fours again. The act of crawling toward him sent sensations shooting through my body. More tingles. A buzzing in my lower belly. Redness rising in my neck and cheeks.
I should know all about what was going on inside me, because of my profession, but in the heat of the moment, I felt pulled by strings.
He crooked his finger, beckoning me to him.I suddenly felt a trigger to resist.The urge to get up and run off stage fought the desire and lust that seemed to pull me like an animal on a leash towards him.
The leash proved stronger and soon I drew so close that when he leaned forward, his mouth was near my ear.
