"For the first time on our main stage, please welcome Cherry!" The DJ sounded a bit more enthusiastic whenever it was a new girl's first time. Almost as if he were trying to encourage the clients to pay attention. The first few notes of the song began, and Cherry strode out onto the stage.
A wolf whistle erupted from the crowd and her grin curved full lips upward, right hand gripping the pole just before she launched her body around it. Dozens of pairs of eyes were glued to her lithe form as she spun around the pole, landing on four-inch heels and immediately lowering to the floor, hips swaying seductively to the music. She scanned the crowd, dark eyes sliding past her coworkers working in the midst and pausing the barest second on each customer's face. Which was the one she was looking for?
As the lyrics began, her eyes locked onto the pair coming in. "She's my cherry pie. Cool drink of water such a sweet surprise. Tastes so good makes a grown man cry. Sweet Cherry Pie."
The taller one looked a little embarrassed, while the shorter had a shit-eating grin curving his features. She could tell they weren't usual's of the Foxxy Lady, even if she had only been there a few weeks. They carried themselves differently, more like cops. But without that air of authority, and that was enough for her to keep an eye on them.
Turning her back on the crowd, one fluid motion had the men cheering – she flipped to a handstand, wrapped her thighs around the pole, and swung her torso up to grab the top. Then she released her legs, bending them at the knee so that her toes brushed against her ass, and slowly spun around the pole until she landed at the bottom. Thank God for the other girls and their willingness to teach. She'd spent hours perfecting her first main stage performance. Her body needed to move without thought, so that she could focus on the clients. While choreographed moves continued, her eyes followed the pair as they approached the bar, clearly discussing something that couldn't be heard over the music. She thought she could see the taller one's mouth curving around the words, "enjoying … too much."
The other seemed to reply, "... just … gig."
Her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly as she realized what they were. There was a moment when things clicked, and this was not a click she had been expecting. Nothing could explain how she suddenly just knew what they were, it just … clicked. But now was not the time to worry about them. As her body writhed on the stage, one hand slithered behind her neck and deftly untied the halter string. Black silk cascaded down her form, crumpling around blood red stilettos and revealing nothing more than a perfectly matched red thong. Gyrating in a lazy circle, foot sweeping at the mini dress, she brushed it to the back of the stage and out of the way. Now for the fun part...
Getting down onto all fours, she crawled to the left side of the stage, chocolate brown eyes glued to the middle aged man sitting there. Flashing a sexy little smirk, she rose to her knees before him and began to sway. Chubby fingers clutched at her flesh, watery blue eyes never straying from porcelain skin. It was the draw of the main stage: the ability to touch the girls without having to pay for a lap dance. Her expression remained flirty as a sweaty palm kneaded her ass, the other hand tucking a dollar into the thong, all while her mind was racing through endless possibilities. By the time she moved on to the next patron, she knew he wasn't the one she was looking for.
As she made her way around the stage, thong filling with bills, hands lingering all over her body, flirty banter passing between her and the male and female patrons, she never stopped processing. She nearly bumped into one of the shot girls once, moving from a woman to the man beside her. He'd been accepting a drink from the bustier-wearing redhead holding a round tray of varying alcoholic beverages when Cherry slid in front of him. The three chuckled at the near mishap, her coworker flashing a brilliant smile before she turned to deliver the rest of her drinks. The man placed his gin and tonic on the bar shelf beneath the stage and reached up to caress Cherry's breasts. Before long, she was moving again, searching faces and body language and whatever other subtle cues could tell her what she wanted to know. And when she got to the last of them, that fucking hunter, she was starting to worry she'd missed something.
"Hey there," the hunter grinned up at her, his slightly taller partner lingering at the bar.
"Hi," she replied in her sexiest voice, the stupidest "dumb slut" expression she could muster on her face.
"You work here long?" he asked. Why wasn't he touching her yet? All the others barely waited half a second before leaving heat trails cooling on naked skin.
Relentlessly she gyrated, hips never missing a beat, arms dancing above her before sliding down her chest and over her stomach, "Long enough," she gave him her most dazzling smile.
He held a twenty folded lengthways between to fingers, "Any chance I could get your first lap dance?"
She glanced behind her, gesturing to the man opposite with her chin while simultaneously winking at the middle aged man, "Owen already secured that spot … but you can touch me now."
Brown eyes flicked back, startled to find his greens not looking over her body, but locked onto hers, "How about second then?"
For a split second, her expression faltered. How much did this guy know? Why was he being so weird?And most importantly, was he going to get in her way?
"You got it, sugar." Nimble fingers plucked the bill from between his as she leaned forwards, letting her breasts brush against sculpted cheekbones. Rising to her feet, she went back to the pole.
Hands grasped firmly before legs spread into an aerial split, as she climbed hand over hand to the top. Thighs were brought together around cool metal and gripped tightly. Ab muscles locked, fingers released, spine slowly lowering until it pressed against the pole. Arms stretched out toward the floor, thighs gently relaxed just enough for her to begin sliding downwards. When palms touched the stage, legs released and spread into a split before coming back together above her. The last note of the song rang out and the DJ's voice boomed out over the speakers.
"Once again, ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Cherry!"
Moving so fast you could almost call it a flip, stilettos hit the stage while chestnut locks danced about creamy shoulders. A quick glance over her shoulder at the crowd with a sultry wink and she was off the stage, swooping to gather up the tiny dress just before disappearing behind the curtain.
And now the real work begins.