She could hear the load outside pumping for the last girl. She was just finishing her act. Debra sneaked a peak through the side of the curtains. It was Stacey. Tall, busty and blonde American dream. Stacey was just that, apart from the drug habit and the abusive boyfriend. Some women just couldn’t appreciate themselves. “Have fun .” was her sarcastic greeting as she brushed past, her skin was wet with sweat from her exertive repertoire. No one gripped a pole quite like Stacey.
For a second the lights on the stage blinded her. The noise was deafening, and the heat from the room stifling. For a moment there was that second of panic. The good girl inside who was horrified to find herself in a strip club, and worse yet, on stage. The music started. Her first night she had chosen it because it was up beat eighties rock, now it just seemed corny. Slowly she strutted to the chair in the middle of the stage. She never did like using a pole. She straddled it, resting her breasts on the chair back. They looked impressive in the tight cat-suit, and the applause and cat calls reiterated this. As she ran her hands down over them and down to her thighs she surveyed the room. The usual drunks at the front, the young kids with fake ID’s on the right, and in the back the regulars sat at the bar. The tables were just for the one timers, those who were curious and probably never came back and the parties that came for something exotic. She’d had offers for evenings, for private stuff, but she never took it. Work stayed in the club, never in her own time. It was just a job. As she stood up she swayed her hips to the music, moving every curve in a seductive rhythm of its own. She pushed over the chair with one stiletto shoe, lowering herself into a squat with her legs open as she began to unzip the suit. The white lace underneath always seemed to surprise punters. They didn’t expect the nice girl under the naughty, that was her own little twist. The sweat from the leather made peeling it off such a release. She could see Johnny at the door. He always watched her from the darkness. The fact that he couldn’t have her always seemed to make him want more, and made him ever more persistent.
To hell with it, she thought and grabbed the pole. Her red hair streamed down her back and the white lace of her bra and thong made her smooth skin seem all the more tanned. She shimmied up and down to the music, making sure every curve of her body was accented by the cold steel pole at her back. She rubbed her breasts together and made every effort to make it seem like she was really enjoying showing them her beautiful sexy body. She began gyrating herself up and down the pole. She felt it slide between her butt cheeks as she bent over giving those behind a great view of her open ass and giving those in front a good view of her tits as she slipped off the bra to throw it to them. Her breasts sat high on her chest and her nipples protruded from them as if ready to be tweaked by any brave enough to dare.
The kids were going crazy, some of them had already spilled themselves and were trying not to seem wasted in front of their obviously more hearty friends. As the music wound to a close she sunk to the floor on her knees spread wide apart and licked each of her breasts slowly. She’d always had a killer finishing move. Most thought it was because she was a slut but really it was because she had the courage to do it. She picked up the suit, the kids could keep the bra, and slipped backstage. She stopped in the wings to catch her breath. She felt a hand slip around her bare buttocks and give them a squeeze. One hand slipped over her eyes before she had a chance to find out who it was and her hair stood on end as she felt hot kisses nuzzling the nape of her neck.
