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The Dancer
by EvesDemise

I work at this club. The work is hard, and I always strive to do my best each night. Most of the time I run through a "routine", my customer's seem pleased, and tip me well, but sometimes I wonder if they (the regulars) ever get tired of the same ol' thing. You see, I am what is called an "exotic dancer", stage name-- Eve. Some guys refer to the job I do as "stripping", but anyone can strip, they just have to be drunk enough. What I do, though, requires a certain sensuality that goes beyond your basic "ya' know she wants it" look. It is a whole persona that I take on each time, as I slide into the night's first outfit, and take to the stage like a mink in heat just loose from my cage. But even in this heightened state of sexuality, I wonder at times--can this whole thing ever get old to them or to me? It was on one evening, a decidedly slow night, in fact, when I realised that just when you think you have seen it all, done more than most, fate slips you a mickey, and you wake up dreaming...

It was, as I mentioned, somewhat of a dragging night. Earlier we had had the pleasure of catering to a large group of guys, who descended on the scene, but left as soon as their cash flow had depleted to dollars for the juke box. I had, in fine fashion, performed on stage and at the tables of these men, to find a huge wad of cash in the tight confines of my garter, when I returned to the dressing room, to change outfits. I did this after every "set" as we girls called the two dances we each would do in turn for the guys at the rail, the ones with money in hand, who would watch as we each took turns teasing them with our lithe bodies, and kitten-like movements. I had also taken a lot of money in table dancing for these guys. That is when I go around and offer to dance on the floor at the customer's table after I finish my set. I

can get pretty close in this way to the customers. I had worked this thing to a science, in which I would get so close to them, without actually touching them physically, that they usually will softly tell me, as I press my hips or scantily clad chest towards them that I smell so good. I always smile and reply that what they smell is the heat of my body wanting to be closer to them. Sometimes, I found that this might even be true, but nevertheless, this marketing technique, more often than not, landed me a engagement to take part in a private dance for the customer, and this is where the big money is in this business. And I get naked and closer still in the private dances, where just about anything I, or the customer wants can happen. The tips for these private shows can be quite huge. I thought I would choke on the roll of twenties the one older man handed me after one of the private dances I did that evening. Then the show ended and so with supply of money gone, so went the group of guys. I was soon to find out that this was not to be the only wad I might choke on.

After a few hours of shooting pool with some of the other dancers, and the doorman and our club DJ, for I was admittedly playing with my earnings to pass the time, five guys entered the club by way of the door, let in after a short tell-tale "BUZZ" sound. As they passed by me, provocatively bent over the pooltable, cue stick in hand, contemplating a combination nine/one ball shot in the left corner pocket, I noticed, out of the corner of my eye one of the five looking right at me, as if he knew me quite well, or wanted to anyway.

After the procession disappeared into the main part of the club, I returned my attention to my combo shot. Then it hit me--I did know that guy, the one who looked like he could devour me in one gulp. It was the shy dark-haired younger man that the older man had suggested I dance for. The boy had seemed embarrassed at the prospect of my dancing at their table, and declined the offer. That is when the older gentleman had inquired at the bar if Eve might be able to perform for the two of them privately.

The dance had been sensual, but simple, for my mind seemed focused on the beautiful dark-haired boy, who sat off in the corner, as if more an observer than participant. I had sat naked on the lap of the older man, feeling his hardness beneath my naked thighs, and as I pressed my flesh against his shirt, I looked over just in time to see the apparently entranced boy look away. After four songs, and many backbends, and sweet soft kisses, I removed myself from the man's strong lap. Quickly, before I could object, the older man reached down beneath the skirt I was adjusting once more around my small waist, and slid his deft fingers beyond the tight confines of my sliver thong, to slip them into my pussy. He smiled as he explained, seeing my quizzical expression, that he just wanted to see for himself if I was as hot as I seemed.

I then obliged him further depth of investigation, spreading my legs a bit to afford both of his hands a bit more room. His one hand found its way to my asshole, as his other hand continued to delve deeper into my now-wet cunt. He looked down at me and said, as he pushed against the puckered flesh of my ass, that my ass could not be much tighter than my sweet pussy. I smiled up at him, as he looked in the direction of the young man, who watched in rapt fascination. The older gentleman invited the boy to come over and feel how tight I was. Usually, I will not allow things to get this far, even for a private dance session. Although this club has a tongue in cheek policy about such things actually taking place at all, I made it clear, when I first started here that I was a dancer, and not a hooker.

Until this night, the closest anyone in that club had ever gotten to me was wishing they could slide up inside as this man was now doing. But there was something totally engaging about the older man's insistence that appealed to the submissive in me, and something equally if not more charming in the younger man's apparent innocence. I toyed in my mind with the thought of being the girl to initiate this apparent virgin into the rights of manhood. With the dominant presence of his older friend, the concept seemed ever more intriguing...

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