Elizabeth jumped as one of the girls pinched her ass, "Rain, Kitty's almost done out there. Hurry up."
She was hurrying, buckling the white stiletto heels that added over four inches to her 5'7" frame. She looked at herself in the mirror, long bouncing red curls, currently tied in pigtails, fake eyelashes and heavy makeup highlighting her ocean blue eyes, hiding the freckles that made her look younger than her 20 years. She checked her costume one last time, the short flounce of the schoolgirl skirt and skimpy cropped button shirt that barely stretched over her round breasts. Underneath, and soon to be all between her and a roomful of horny men, was a shimmering white g-string and matching string bikini top.
She had been stripping for over a year now, discovering that waiting tables wasn't going to pay her way through college, much less law school. She had gotten very comfortable, and pretty successful with it, as evidenced by her theatric flirting with the big black bouncer, Ruben. She slid her body against his, knowing that some of the customers nearby would be drawn to the movement, the contrast of her slim, pale body twining around his hard muscled dark one, even during Kitty's finale.
She kissed his cheek lightly, winking at a leering man in a business suit. "Ruben, baby, can you lift me up to the stage, you know those stairs are murder in these shoes..." He rolled his eyes and smiled back, playing her game with her, even though she was seconds away from doing things in those shoes that took much more dexterity than stairs ever would. His big dark hands wrapped around her small waist, picking her up high and setting her feet lightly on the edge of the stage, even as Kitty was coming down the stairs and her music was starting.
A couple of her regulars cheered, catcalling her name... well... her stage name and she strutted onto the stage, pretending to be surprised to find them there, pressing her fingers to her lips and slowly, delicately beginning to dance, sucking on her finger before trailing wetness over her lower lip and down her chest, undoing one button at a time on the thin white shirt. She let the shirt fall to her shoulders, making sure that every table got a good teasing view as she played around the two poles on the long stage.
She teased, she danced, she played with the crowd, sinuously slipping out of the skirt after giving everyone in the club a few good chances to see the flash of her pale skin under its pleats.
The preliminaries attended to she got down to the business of grinding against the pole, letting nearby men slip bills into the straps on her costume, spreading her legs and shimmying her way down the warm metal until the small scrap of shimmering fabric covering her perfectly smooth pussy ended up inches from the face of a guy leaning over the bar. She stayed there, writhing her body close enough to feel his breath between her legs until he slid a bill under her g string, his fingers glancing across her pussy lips, to the applause of a couple guys nearby and the the menacing glare of Ruben. She applauded him as well then stroked her hands up her hips and ribcage, cupping her breasts and moving to work another part of the stage, another knot of men at the bar.
She worked two nights a week, sometimes three, making enough to pay for her apartment, her school bills, and had enough time left over to study. And it made her feel like a million bucks, sexy and sweet and in control.
She had her rules, she'd do private lap dances, but not private parties. Even here on site, the back room had a bad reputation. It wasn't outright prostitution, but given enough cash the manager and the bouncers would simply ignore what went on back there. The money could be really good, and not every group of men who claimed the VIP room wanting to go past the line, but she was happy with what she made dancing, no reason to push her luck.
She was hurrying, buckling the white stiletto heels that added over four inches to her 5'7" frame. She looked at herself in the mirror, long bouncing red curls, currently tied in pigtails, fake eyelashes and heavy makeup highlighting her ocean blue eyes, hiding the freckles that made her look younger than her 20 years. She checked her costume one last time, the short flounce of the schoolgirl skirt and skimpy cropped button shirt that barely stretched over her round breasts. Underneath, and soon to be all between her and a roomful of horny men, was a shimmering white g-string and matching string bikini top.
She had been stripping for over a year now, discovering that waiting tables wasn't going to pay her way through college, much less law school. She had gotten very comfortable, and pretty successful with it, as evidenced by her theatric flirting with the big black bouncer, Ruben. She slid her body against his, knowing that some of the customers nearby would be drawn to the movement, the contrast of her slim, pale body twining around his hard muscled dark one, even during Kitty's finale.
She kissed his cheek lightly, winking at a leering man in a business suit. "Ruben, baby, can you lift me up to the stage, you know those stairs are murder in these shoes..." He rolled his eyes and smiled back, playing her game with her, even though she was seconds away from doing things in those shoes that took much more dexterity than stairs ever would. His big dark hands wrapped around her small waist, picking her up high and setting her feet lightly on the edge of the stage, even as Kitty was coming down the stairs and her music was starting.
A couple of her regulars cheered, catcalling her name... well... her stage name and she strutted onto the stage, pretending to be surprised to find them there, pressing her fingers to her lips and slowly, delicately beginning to dance, sucking on her finger before trailing wetness over her lower lip and down her chest, undoing one button at a time on the thin white shirt. She let the shirt fall to her shoulders, making sure that every table got a good teasing view as she played around the two poles on the long stage.
She teased, she danced, she played with the crowd, sinuously slipping out of the skirt after giving everyone in the club a few good chances to see the flash of her pale skin under its pleats.
The preliminaries attended to she got down to the business of grinding against the pole, letting nearby men slip bills into the straps on her costume, spreading her legs and shimmying her way down the warm metal until the small scrap of shimmering fabric covering her perfectly smooth pussy ended up inches from the face of a guy leaning over the bar. She stayed there, writhing her body close enough to feel his breath between her legs until he slid a bill under her g string, his fingers glancing across her pussy lips, to the applause of a couple guys nearby and the the menacing glare of Ruben. She applauded him as well then stroked her hands up her hips and ribcage, cupping her breasts and moving to work another part of the stage, another knot of men at the bar.
She worked two nights a week, sometimes three, making enough to pay for her apartment, her school bills, and had enough time left over to study. And it made her feel like a million bucks, sexy and sweet and in control.
She had her rules, she'd do private lap dances, but not private parties. Even here on site, the back room had a bad reputation. It wasn't outright prostitution, but given enough cash the manager and the bouncers would simply ignore what went on back there. The money could be really good, and not every group of men who claimed the VIP room wanting to go past the line, but she was happy with what she made dancing, no reason to push her luck.