He didn't want me on his lap, so I and
my delicate, gold Egyptian bracelets gyrated and twisted, and displayed
and fingered and shook my more obvious assets from a distance.
He seemed pleased, while Shadow [his
huge bodyguard] looked on. Minutes later, Shadow put down lots of Mr.
Franklins. I guess, his boss didn't want to get his hands dirty. I was
reaching for the loot.
"Again."
"They're your Bennies," I said.
This close to him, this long, it was
starting to get to me that he never looks at me like anyone else does.
Not like his Shadow, who was trying hard not to
look at me. I know when a man's looking at me, and Shadow'd lost the
battle. The hard proof being the growing precum stain, from his stiff
billy club in his pants, that he tried to modestly shift to a more
comfortable position.
Unless, of course, he had a big thing,
for his boss.
"Come here."
The sahib indicated I may now
approach, and buff his lap, which I did thoroughly. The song ended.
Shadow piled on the Poor Richards.
"Again." Greedy bastard.
He peeled off his long, stylish
jacket. A little warm, I guess. Y'know, others want lots of dances,
too, but they don't have the cash or credit, or they're afraid they'll
cum their slacks. Dark seemed to be holding his cream but his trousers
were becoming less slack the more I rode his very expensive imported,
custom tailored fabric.
Then, he touched me.
"No touching!"
I'd dismounted so fast, I don't think
he'd expected it. The look on his face said touching me was no
overinfatuated mistake. As they always say.
Tiny Natalie'd had some queer lick her
ass just yesterday.
Totally creepzoid.
We do a lot. But, it's a service,
a special service, and it has its limits. Let's
face it; we're vulnerable--naked, outweighed, unarmed, with help far
enough away that we could get seriously damaged or dead before the
bouncers get to us.
So, touching me...us is very much
breaking the law. And, my law.
Most people still like to think we're
wearing pasties or nude plastic or Sally Rand feathers, "if these kinds
of places must exist," they say. But, no, the law says nude's--fine,
opening my legs--fine, touching myself or another performer's anything
is--fine, but…customers touching us...me is forbidden. As I rub my body
against theirs.
I'm on…I am that thin,
fragile line between voyeurism and participation, stripping (Since
I'm naked, I strip your mind, not my clothes.--Good, huhn?)
and prostitution.
"Dez, it was just your waist I
touched."
"It doesn't matter, Dark. You
touch nothing."
"All right. I'll behave. Finish.
Please?"
I didn't like the look in his eyes, I
couldn't read it, and, the pit of my stomach churned. Never a good sign.
"If you want more, Dez.... A penalty
fee?"
Where was Shadow pulling
those bills from?
He never put his hand in a pocket, no
bill fold or wad seemed to be in his huge hand, and then Blam!
He put down ten of them this time, for his master; fanned so I could
count.
"You're not stupid, Dez, you know I
like you. I just momentarily forgot proper decorum."
"Bullshit." He smiled at my anger,
which pissed me good.
"Okay. One last dance. You get paid,
and I'll go. I'll never come back here to Max', unless you give me
permission."
I had to think about that one. The
money was better than great, and there'd be more, he always pays, even
if he only watches for thirty seconds. And, then his royal pain in my
ass would leave...he could dry hump himself.
I wished he'd stop looking like he
knew exactly what I was thinking, which, of course, I knew he did.
So, I Salome'd again, and he asked me
to straddle him, which is not unusual, especially from a high-paying
client. I mounted him and his eyes held mine for a long time, his
prodigious bulge between my legs, throbbing deliciously, making my bare
pussy dampen it's tongueless mouth. I tried to move off the expensive
fabric…before I--.
"Wet it, Dez, I don't care."
How'd he know I was getting so wet? I
thought to disobey; but, I liked the constant throb his cock was
singing to my cunt. I wanted more. He could tell.
"Put your hands on my shoulders, and
lean into me."
I hesitated, but finally did it, and
it felt wonderful; but, I was loosing control, and the position put his
hot lips too close to my breasts. If I'd been flatterchested we would
have stayed within the law, but my tit brushed his hot mouth and he
grabbed me and sucked.
Pulling away made him suck harder,
biting just a bit, and his pants got wetter, at least from my side.
He smiled, mouth full of me, knowing
he had me, knowing he was getting my body, that's controlled by me,
that serves me, to betray me.
I pulled away to dismount, and his
teeth let go but he held me on his hard bulge, pushing it up into me. I
wanted it; but, I wasn't having it, as I shoved to get away. He grabbed
a handful of hair on the back of my head.
Piss me! Tryin' to control
me.
I backhanded him, and, suddenly, he
had a switchblade at my ribs.
"She's thinking whether or not I want
her enough not to slice her beautiful body, or if I'm afraid someone
might hear her call out, and come for her." He pulled my head to his.
"Delectable Dez, who's going to run through that
door and into him? And, if they got past him, who'd
run up on me? Even for you."
"What d'you want?"
"Control of you."
Thought so.
I….
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