“It’s from the gentleman in the nice suit who you separated from his one-hundred dollars. Nice dancing, by the way, and not a bad set’s work.” She glanced down at the various denominations of bills tucked in my panties.
I glanced down as well, and it looked like someone had started a salad in my panties. Green stuck out everywhere from side to back. I could feel the bills pressed up against my butt and back now.
Carol started pulling them out, straightening and sorting them. My focus rested on the twenty-dollar bill peaking out of the front of my panties. Just looking at it brought back sensations of his touch. I could feel his fingers, like phantom limbs, still rubbing against my burning flesh. Still brushing my hot flesh.
Here I was, an exotic dancer on amateur night, a sex therapist by day, with a wad of cash decorating my panties and my legs trembling from the thrill and excitement of it all, and my most dominant thought was a dark-eyed stranger’s knuckles on my clit. The thought made me tremble again.
Carol noticed and studied my face.
“You okay, Regina?”
I snapped out of it and pulled the twenty out of my panties, straightened it, and handed it to Carol.
“How did I do?”
“I’m up to two-hundred dollars and I still have this stack of ones to count.”
“Is that good?” I took a sip of my drink. The cool soda and rum felt good on my parched throat. The burn of the rum as it went down left me near boiling though.
Carol looked around the back room and then faced me again.
“Based on the reactions of the other girls tonight, it’s not bad.”
“Did I do better than Heather?”Where did that come from? Snap out of it!
“I can’t say. She disappeared halfway through your set. I saw her take her big tipper to the private room in the back.”
“Where they do lap dances, right?”
“Yeah. I think so.” Carol continued to count out the ones. “Forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty. Wow! You can take me to dinner now, Reggie.” Carol joked before handing me the neat stack of cash.
“For some reason, I feel really proud of this,” I said as I flapped the stack at Carol.
“You sound shocked.”
“I am. My intention was to pole dance, maybe strut around on stage, get a few cheers and claps of applause. I had no intention of doing some of… that…” I trailed off, not really wanting to put into words the memories of my thrusting hips in the faces of a bunch of strangers in a strip bar.
I liked to think of myself as an exotic dancer, but I think I crossed some line between exotic dancer and whatever I ended up doing on stage.
“Gyrating your hips and… um, vagina in front of thirty men surrounding the stage?”
“Yeah, that.”
“Well, Babe. You may be in your forties, but you’re gorgeous. You’ve got a killer body and that face of yours can still launch a thousand ships.” I could see the admiration in her eyes. It was that same look that had made her my best friend in our freshman year in high school.
I sighed. The realization that I was sitting there in just my panties hit me like being discovered masturbating in the bedroom. I put my wraparound top on and pulled it over my breasts. My nipples were still so hard, though, that I’m sure everyone in the back room could see them poking through the fabric. The fabric was pretty flimsy, so it wouldn’t take much for nipples to show. Mine, however, seemed to poke out like big radio knobs.
“Yeah, what happened to your bra?” I met Carol’s gaze and the smile that splayed across her face.
“Mr. Dark Eyes said I could have it back if I gave him a lap dance.” I looked in his general direction, even though a wall stood between me and him. That didn’t keep the memories of the way he looked at me from traveling to my pussy.
“Oh, Reggie. You should SO give him a lap dance.”
I blushed and shook my head before pulling my top tighter around me.
“You could take selfies and send them to Ass-Hat.” Ass-Hat was code for my ex-husband. Hat and Hole could easily be interchanged, but Carol preferred Ass-Hat.
“That’s not my style and you know it, Carol.” I took another sip.
