Lord of the Dance
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The small crown of women and the few men in the room went wild as he took the stage; their whistling and yelling spurring him on.
The music began to boom out of the speakers on either side of the stage and he started dancing, swinging and shaking to the beat.
Some of the patrons were on their feet already, obviously with too much alcohol running through their veins. Not that 'show us your pink bits' meant anything to him anymore. His usual response when not on stage was 'for $150 you can see whatever you like.' It usually worked too. He was starting to make a name for himself; his reputation stamped out as 'good quality'.
As he swivelled his hips, his fingers skilfully undid the button of his skin-tight satin shirt. He never did understand why a 'builder' would wear a satin shirt on the job anyway.
He opened one side of the shirt. The women cheered as they caught a first glimpse at his tanned skin and bulging muscles.
He tipped his hat and winked at one woman who was already waving a few notes his way. There was no use having the crowd peak too early and he knew the woman would be disappointed if she couldn't get to stuff then down his g-string.
When he'd first started out he'd been immensely deterred from performing solo on stage. Now however, he realized the advantages of it and had gotten over his stage fright - not that a stripper really has stage fright.
Solo acts generally pulled more tips as they didn't have to share or be overshadowed by the other performers. And, a good solo act attracted customers for after the show.
He placed his back to the audience and quickly pulled his shirt off, one shoulder at a time, flexing his carefully sculptured muscles as he did so.
Oh how he loved his job. Working a few hours each night and getting a couple of hundred dollars in the process, working his libido later that night, getting a few more hundred and by working out at one of the top gymnasiums in the town. At his gym, bikinis and hotpants were a common occurrence and he didn't mind the sight of a perfectly sculptured female body, skin shining from perspiration and breasts swaying to the rhythm of pounding feet on the treadmill.
Not that this was his chosen career but the marks he received in senior meant the police academy was out of the question.
He put in a seductive smile as he rubbed him hands over his skin, teasing his nipples on the way down to the buttoned fly of his denim pants, also as skin tight as his shirt.
The noise increased as he swivelled his hips and worked open the buttons.
He'd done this routine so many times it was like breathing to him now.
Undo the fly, turn back on audience and rip off pants. Velcro was a god- send in this industry.
The women in the crowd screamed upon seeing the hot pink g-string he wore.
He flexed his buttocks and made a few body builder moves to show off his muscles.
Now was the time for crowd interaction.and tips. He moved towards the front of the stage and the women pushed each other out of the way in order to reach him.
He knelt down with his hips thrust forward and hands from all over shoved their money into the band of his underwear, one woman in particular grabbing his package and giving it a squeeze before rushing off to giggle about it with her friends.
He got up and turned to around to show off his ass-sets some more, rolling his eyes at the pathetic behaviour of some women that he encountered here. After all, they were probably secretaries or office clerks who were normally discrete and well-behaved but in the presence of a half-naked man turned into nymphomaniac freaks.
A few more pelvic thrusts and he was out of there.
'You do realize if you keep on like that the rest of us will be out of a job.' One of the other dancers teased him as he came off stage.
He pulled the notes from his g-string, smiling when he came across a fifty. 'Sorry Tim.' He said jokingly. 'But seriously, if you want to get ahead here you'll have to bulk up.'
Tim shook his head and went back to his vanity to continue getting ready for his own performance. Tim was one of the more experience strippers in the club.and one of the more popular. A body builder by day, the size of his muscles fascinated most women and he collected more tips that anyone else. The women loved him; it's just a pity he didn't like women.
Our stripper looked in the mirror, taking of his builder's hat and rubbing his fingers through his hair as to not make it look so flat.
He dropped his underwear and replaced it with his preferred choice of underwear. He dragged on a shirt as the manager walked over.
Donald Tate, the manager clapped him on the shoulder. 'Tony, you did some good work tonight.'
Tony Palermo smiled. 'Any takers tonight?' He asked pulling on sweatpants.
'A few.' Don walked him over to the curtain so they could get a glimpse of the audience. 'The red head at table six was asking for you.'
Tony shook his head. 'No. No way. I don't do men.'
'The guy is loaded. Owns an up and coming software company. He asked for you specifically.'
'So I'll buy shares. I don't do men.' Tony repeated. 'Besides, I drive a Harley. I don't need the money.'
'Fine.' The manager said. As always he was no pleased at Tony preference not to prostitute himself to men. 'There's a women who'll meet you in the private bar in about 20 minutes.' Tony was handed an envelope. 'She paid up front.' Don left to work the bar and look out for customers.
Tim wandered over to Tony. 'He's right man, you'd make a killing.'
Tony flicked through the money in the envelope. 'Sorry man, not interested.' He started walked back over to his vanity to collect his things. 'Oh, red head, table 6.' He threw of his shoulder to Tim. 'And he's loaded.'
Tim smiled. 'That's my kinda guy.'
+++++
Tony looked through the small round window on the door to the private bar.
She was there, sipping on a wine while she waited.
Not bad looking either, he thought as he entered the room.
Walking towards her he projected his graceful sexuality that he'd become accustomed to. Nobody wanted to hire a self-conscious prostitute.
The woman turned as she saw him approach, putting down her drink and straightening her dress. Tony guessed that this was probably her first time.
'You're Tony?' She asked.
He spread his hands as an open gesture. 'I'm whatever you want me to be.'
She smiled and quickly surveyed him.
She was nervous. He knew it.
'Anywhere particular you want to go?' He asked her. Usually his clients would take him somewhere like a hotel room.
She nodded and held up a key. 'There's a place a few blocks away where I thought we could.um.go.'
He nodded and motioned to the back entrance to the club; the door led to the car park.
+++++
The woman wandered nervously around the room before sitting down stiffly on the end of the bed.
The apartment was small with a double bed in the main part of the room with a bathroom off the side.
Tony had been here with clients before. The rooms were very cheap, especially if they were hired out by one of Don's employees. Don had build up a good rapport with the managers of this motel.
Seeing the woman's disease Tony took charge. 'Why don't you start by telling me your name?'
'Um.Rita.' She stammered.
Tony perched himself on a windows sill. 'You a native to California Rita?'
She nodded. 'I've been here all my life.'
'What do you do for work?'
Rita looked around uneasily. 'Ah, I'm, um, a waitress.'
Tony realized she wasn't about to start making conversation with him so he went to plan two.
He levered himself from the window sill, and came to sit beside her. He started working the buttons of her blouse. 'What do you say I just tell you how these sorts of things go?'
She nodded.
He felt her stiffen slightly as he undid the buttons close to her breasts. 'You tell me what you want; vaginal, anal, head job, bondage, whatever.' He leaned closer to her and trailed light kisses down her neck and across her collarbone.
She relaxed a bit as his kisses made their way down her chest and between her breasts. He pulled the blouse from her shoulders.
'Whatever.' She said, almost in a whisper.
Tony rubbed his hand over the flat of her stomach before making its way around to her back.
It was somewhere around her hip when it hit something hard and cold.
He head jerked up suddenly and he looked at what he'd touched.
There was a small box about the size of a credit card that had been attached to her skirt at the hip. There was a wire coming out of that lead to a microphone near the collar of where her blouse would be.
Tony swore. She was a cop.
Rita's eyes went really wide for a second before the door to the motel room was kicked open and four or so police officers rushed in with their guns drawn.
Tony looked at Rita had dived off the bed and was frantically buttoning up her shirt.
'Anthony Palermo?' One of the officers inquired.
Tony sighed. 'Yeah.' He answered grudgingly.
'You're under arrest.' The officer holstered his gun and took out handcuffs. 'You have the right to remain silent.'
Tony was pushed so he lay on his stomach on the bed as he was handcuffed, the officer still reading him his rights.
He looked at Rita who'd finished re-dressing herself and was cowering behind the armed officers.
For some reason, he could almost make out remorse in her expression.
Another office came to the aid of the first and they pulled Tony to his feet and pushed him out of the room.
+++++
+++++
The small crown of women and the few men in the room went wild as he took the stage; their whistling and yelling spurring him on.
The music began to boom out of the speakers on either side of the stage and he started dancing, swinging and shaking to the beat.
Some of the patrons were on their feet already, obviously with too much alcohol running through their veins. Not that 'show us your pink bits' meant anything to him anymore. His usual response when not on stage was 'for $150 you can see whatever you like.' It usually worked too. He was starting to make a name for himself; his reputation stamped out as 'good quality'.
As he swivelled his hips, his fingers skilfully undid the button of his skin-tight satin shirt. He never did understand why a 'builder' would wear a satin shirt on the job anyway.
He opened one side of the shirt. The women cheered as they caught a first glimpse at his tanned skin and bulging muscles.
He tipped his hat and winked at one woman who was already waving a few notes his way. There was no use having the crowd peak too early and he knew the woman would be disappointed if she couldn't get to stuff then down his g-string.
When he'd first started out he'd been immensely deterred from performing solo on stage. Now however, he realized the advantages of it and had gotten over his stage fright - not that a stripper really has stage fright.
Solo acts generally pulled more tips as they didn't have to share or be overshadowed by the other performers. And, a good solo act attracted customers for after the show.
He placed his back to the audience and quickly pulled his shirt off, one shoulder at a time, flexing his carefully sculptured muscles as he did so.
Oh how he loved his job. Working a few hours each night and getting a couple of hundred dollars in the process, working his libido later that night, getting a few more hundred and by working out at one of the top gymnasiums in the town. At his gym, bikinis and hotpants were a common occurrence and he didn't mind the sight of a perfectly sculptured female body, skin shining from perspiration and breasts swaying to the rhythm of pounding feet on the treadmill.
Not that this was his chosen career but the marks he received in senior meant the police academy was out of the question.
He put in a seductive smile as he rubbed him hands over his skin, teasing his nipples on the way down to the buttoned fly of his denim pants, also as skin tight as his shirt.
The noise increased as he swivelled his hips and worked open the buttons.
He'd done this routine so many times it was like breathing to him now.
Undo the fly, turn back on audience and rip off pants. Velcro was a god- send in this industry.
The women in the crowd screamed upon seeing the hot pink g-string he wore.
He flexed his buttocks and made a few body builder moves to show off his muscles.
Now was the time for crowd interaction.and tips. He moved towards the front of the stage and the women pushed each other out of the way in order to reach him.
He knelt down with his hips thrust forward and hands from all over shoved their money into the band of his underwear, one woman in particular grabbing his package and giving it a squeeze before rushing off to giggle about it with her friends.
He got up and turned to around to show off his ass-sets some more, rolling his eyes at the pathetic behaviour of some women that he encountered here. After all, they were probably secretaries or office clerks who were normally discrete and well-behaved but in the presence of a half-naked man turned into nymphomaniac freaks.
A few more pelvic thrusts and he was out of there.
'You do realize if you keep on like that the rest of us will be out of a job.' One of the other dancers teased him as he came off stage.
He pulled the notes from his g-string, smiling when he came across a fifty. 'Sorry Tim.' He said jokingly. 'But seriously, if you want to get ahead here you'll have to bulk up.'
Tim shook his head and went back to his vanity to continue getting ready for his own performance. Tim was one of the more experience strippers in the club.and one of the more popular. A body builder by day, the size of his muscles fascinated most women and he collected more tips that anyone else. The women loved him; it's just a pity he didn't like women.
Our stripper looked in the mirror, taking of his builder's hat and rubbing his fingers through his hair as to not make it look so flat.
He dropped his underwear and replaced it with his preferred choice of underwear. He dragged on a shirt as the manager walked over.
Donald Tate, the manager clapped him on the shoulder. 'Tony, you did some good work tonight.'
Tony Palermo smiled. 'Any takers tonight?' He asked pulling on sweatpants.
'A few.' Don walked him over to the curtain so they could get a glimpse of the audience. 'The red head at table six was asking for you.'
Tony shook his head. 'No. No way. I don't do men.'
'The guy is loaded. Owns an up and coming software company. He asked for you specifically.'
'So I'll buy shares. I don't do men.' Tony repeated. 'Besides, I drive a Harley. I don't need the money.'
'Fine.' The manager said. As always he was no pleased at Tony preference not to prostitute himself to men. 'There's a women who'll meet you in the private bar in about 20 minutes.' Tony was handed an envelope. 'She paid up front.' Don left to work the bar and look out for customers.
Tim wandered over to Tony. 'He's right man, you'd make a killing.'
Tony flicked through the money in the envelope. 'Sorry man, not interested.' He started walked back over to his vanity to collect his things. 'Oh, red head, table 6.' He threw of his shoulder to Tim. 'And he's loaded.'
Tim smiled. 'That's my kinda guy.'
+++++
Tony looked through the small round window on the door to the private bar.
She was there, sipping on a wine while she waited.
Not bad looking either, he thought as he entered the room.
Walking towards her he projected his graceful sexuality that he'd become accustomed to. Nobody wanted to hire a self-conscious prostitute.
The woman turned as she saw him approach, putting down her drink and straightening her dress. Tony guessed that this was probably her first time.
'You're Tony?' She asked.
He spread his hands as an open gesture. 'I'm whatever you want me to be.'
She smiled and quickly surveyed him.
She was nervous. He knew it.
'Anywhere particular you want to go?' He asked her. Usually his clients would take him somewhere like a hotel room.
She nodded and held up a key. 'There's a place a few blocks away where I thought we could.um.go.'
He nodded and motioned to the back entrance to the club; the door led to the car park.
+++++
The woman wandered nervously around the room before sitting down stiffly on the end of the bed.
The apartment was small with a double bed in the main part of the room with a bathroom off the side.
Tony had been here with clients before. The rooms were very cheap, especially if they were hired out by one of Don's employees. Don had build up a good rapport with the managers of this motel.
Seeing the woman's disease Tony took charge. 'Why don't you start by telling me your name?'
'Um.Rita.' She stammered.
Tony perched himself on a windows sill. 'You a native to California Rita?'
She nodded. 'I've been here all my life.'
'What do you do for work?'
Rita looked around uneasily. 'Ah, I'm, um, a waitress.'
Tony realized she wasn't about to start making conversation with him so he went to plan two.
He levered himself from the window sill, and came to sit beside her. He started working the buttons of her blouse. 'What do you say I just tell you how these sorts of things go?'
She nodded.
He felt her stiffen slightly as he undid the buttons close to her breasts. 'You tell me what you want; vaginal, anal, head job, bondage, whatever.' He leaned closer to her and trailed light kisses down her neck and across her collarbone.
She relaxed a bit as his kisses made their way down her chest and between her breasts. He pulled the blouse from her shoulders.
'Whatever.' She said, almost in a whisper.
Tony rubbed his hand over the flat of her stomach before making its way around to her back.
It was somewhere around her hip when it hit something hard and cold.
He head jerked up suddenly and he looked at what he'd touched.
There was a small box about the size of a credit card that had been attached to her skirt at the hip. There was a wire coming out of that lead to a microphone near the collar of where her blouse would be.
Tony swore. She was a cop.
Rita's eyes went really wide for a second before the door to the motel room was kicked open and four or so police officers rushed in with their guns drawn.
Tony looked at Rita had dived off the bed and was frantically buttoning up her shirt.
'Anthony Palermo?' One of the officers inquired.
Tony sighed. 'Yeah.' He answered grudgingly.
'You're under arrest.' The officer holstered his gun and took out handcuffs. 'You have the right to remain silent.'
Tony was pushed so he lay on his stomach on the bed as he was handcuffed, the officer still reading him his rights.
He looked at Rita who'd finished re-dressing herself and was cowering behind the armed officers.
For some reason, he could almost make out remorse in her expression.
Another office came to the aid of the first and they pulled Tony to his feet and pushed him out of the room.
+++++