It was merely a curvy, blackened silhouette behind a red screen. That was all they saw. Her audience. A pound on a hidden drum echoed through the room. The shadow of a woman threw her hips to the side. Another drum, another bump of her luscious hips. A man whistled loudly from the sitting area as the drum beats increased, becoming heavier and heavier with each passing second. One leg jutted out from behind the screen, up in the air with a single flick. The crowd growled with anticipation, sitting forward in their seats.
Sally stepped out, strutting across the stage proudly. Every inch of her oozed seduction and self-confidence. A red light turned on, following her across the stage.
He was sitting in the front row; she wasn't sure if the kid was even legal to be here. But, he was, he had to be. He had dark eyes, glinting with sexual experience. How, she didn't know. She winked at him, throwing her hand in the air.
Black thigh-high stocking crawled up the woman's legs, held up by two single garters.
In perfect unison with the music, two other girls strutted out from behind the screen, one on each side. They were all wearing similar outfits, though each one had something unique about them. For Sally, it was her appearance. People joked that she could look good in a paper bag and still do her tease well enough to drive men up the wall. She didn't need anything to accentuate her beauty; she just was.
The routine went uninterrupted as Sally and the other two girls preformed, Sally always being frontal. Her eyes fell for a moment, watching as the kid's eyes darted to the man a few tables down, closer to the stage than he was. There was a hungry look swarming there, his eyes upon her face then dropping to scan over her seductive form. The kid didn't like it. Sally's cheeks were suddenly hot. Swallowing the feeling, she combed her fingers over the back of her dress, sliding the zipper down slowly. With a wiggle, she brought the garment down over her generous cleavage, down her hips and let it slide to her leg. She flicked the dress into the air, aiming for the back of the stage. Someone called her name affectionately.
Sally, shit. Is that her name? Edward Blake shifted in his seat, his hand dropping to his crotch to adjust himself. Subtly, though many men were probably doing the same thing more openly, he brushed over himself. It wasn't hard enough to show, but the moves Sally was making would get it that way in no time flat.
Sally was nearly naked in front of these men, clad in nothing but a bustier and stockings, held up neatly by garters. She looked behind her, pulling her face into an innocent expression, as if asking, "Did I just throw that dress back there? So far away?" The man growled, smiling. His hand fell to his pocket. Sally's heart stuttered a few times, she had to throw her head back sensually to shake the nerves. She could have sworn she heard the kid usher a mean, protective warning.
The drum beats were heavy, sexy and the women on the stage were too. They bumped and ground into the air perfectly, tantalizing each man individually and all at once. Chairs were lined up at the corners, waiting patiently until the time came. That time was now. Sally grabbed the one in the front, unconsciously close to the man who's fist had now closed around a wad of green paper. There's always one, She thought, swirling the chair around to the look at her second admirer. His dark, hot gaze was glued to her. Their eyes snapped together for a moment, and white, hot chills erupted down her spine. One leg flew up, twirling out, allowing the black heel to come down upon the seat of a nearby chair. Two more thumps, each of the women did the same thing. A saxophone moaned suddenly, whining a sexual plea. Sally responded by removing her leg and braced her weight on the back of the chair. Parting her full lips in a visible moan, she slid her legs straight out, her silky thighs spread far apart. With instruction from the sax, she slid back up, and spun the chair around, so the back was facing the crowd. Three pairs of hands caressed three bodies, each woman touching and stroking all their curves. Sally sat on the chair and leaned back, her black heels nearly poking out off the end of the stage. The man's eyes lit up. So did the kid's. But not the same burn.
Woman after woman bent back on their chair, allowing their bodies to make a perfect curve over the seat. A hot, sweaty hand closed around Sally's ankle.
"Get your fuckin' hand off her." It was quiet at first. The man probably didn't hear it. Sally ignored the rush she got after finally hearing his voice. He was so young, it was so wrong. She'd never seen him before, it had to be just the thrill of a new face. No. Without making too much of a scene, she flicked her imprisoned leg in the air, trying to shake him. The hand held her tight and pulled. Sally shook it again, this time harder and she felt the kid's temperature rising.
The women stood up, Sally followed the move, trying to ignore her sudden mobility limitations. As soon as she was on her feet, the man dropped his hand and reached up for hers. He jerked her down to his eye level, breathing the sickening, sweet scent of booze over her face. A few people looked angrily. In the background, she could hear the boys coming to throw this guy out. He opened her hand, pressing the money wad into her hand."Here, babe. You deserve better than-"
"Shit, that's enough. She's not yours. Don't you know how to fuckin' handle a woman?" The kid was suddenly beside them.
His hand left trails of heat and goose bumps over her skin, his lips leaving swollen, hot marks of passion on her neck. Tangling a fist in the sheets, Sally knew this summer afternoon was different from the others, things were changing.
"She's not yours either, kid. Scram." A fist flew into a jaw, and the man was down on the ground. Blood and spit dripped out his fat lips, and Sally's hero laughed and looked back up at her. The big, white smile that plastered upon his face was... Oh, god. Sally inhaled, her chest tight. Soon after, the boys came around, huffing and puffing and upset that they hadn't saved their girls sooner. There was something in his eyes, something that - thick arms wrapped around both the guys, pulling them towards the door. Sally got to leave earlier, even though she told everyone she was perfectly fine. Tucking the wad of money into her breasts, she turned and walked off the stage. Lights, curtain, the whole closing revolved around her. I didn't even know his name.
Sally Jupiter pulled the sheer yellow fabric up over her bust, fastening the collar around her neck. The Comedian laughed outside the door, joking about a strip club with someone. Hollis called her name excitedly. She was a hero now, dressed in yellow and black, and proud of herself. But before she was this, before there was yellow, there was red.