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Subject: Title story: "Dancer" Author: Anonymouse 63916598
From: TheXfan <ryzij@poczta.fm>
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Date: Wed, 04 Jan 2006 22:58:32 +0000
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Dancer
God, it's a slow night, she thought. Her G-string was not cooperating as she
pulled it up her taut thighs. Beside her lay the lace corset she was to wear. I
hate working weeknights, she grumbled aloud. Fortunately, noone was around,
otherwise Charlie might get wind, and fire her altogether. Noone wants a dancer
who can't get into the act. She pulled the string high into the crack of her
ass, and admired herself in the mirror. She ran her fingers down her bare
cheeks, and smiled. God, I look sexy, she thought. The high heels seemed to make
her long legs even more sultry and inviting. Slowly, she stretched, and watched
herself as her skin stretched and pulled. Her breasts swayed free from any
encumbering bra, and bobbed slightly as she righted herself. She grabbed the
corset, and donned it, pulling tightly on the drawstrings. Her breasts seemed to
swell as the silk material bunched in around her, pushing them up and in. A
white dress- easily removable, was just what she needed to complete the outfit.
Then, her thoughts moved back to the crowd outside. She sighed, and felt a
slight dejection. There was noone, really, who seemed to get her in the mood.
But, that had happened before, and it would happen again. It appeared as if she
would have to make the best of it as usual. Being an erotic dancer wasn't easy,
even if she did clear over $300 a night.
The noise and commotion outside drew her attention once more, and she heard the
DJ announce her name. She walked out of the dressing room, and into the club.
She had managed that walk- the one that she knew would drive the men crazy- and
it made her feel good to know that men were looking at HER. She walked out on
the stage, to a thumping beat. Good. Something to really move to. She started
twirling around on the lighted table, feeling the men's eyes on her body like
physical hands. She was being made love to in every one of these men's minds,
and she loved it. It made her feel unbelievanbly sexy to be the object of so
many men's desires. In her perverse fantasies, a select group of four or five
men would come up on stage and take her, right then and there.
She twirled around, and saw him. He was there, sitting right at the table,
plucking out dollar bills from his pocket. She hadn't even taken off one piece
of clothing, and yet he was ready. She couldn't take her eyes off of him, his
presence was that commanding. Even so, there was a show to do. She reminded
herself, one must remain detached. You are their fantasies, that's all.
The dress inched down her body, exposing the corset and her garter belt. Soon,
it had left her body completely, and she kicked it aside with a slight gesture
of her foot. Instantly, she felt better. There was someone worthing dancing to,
and he would PAY. As she moved, she felt herself getting warmer, and more
comfortable with the dance. She went over to one side of the table, opposite of
where he was sitting. She ground her crotch into the young man's face, humping
the air. She could see the embarrassment and anxiousness in his face, and then
smiled. He slid the dollar underneath the corset, afraid to put it inside the
G-string. She stood up, and bent over, her ass inviting a dollar bill from the
young man's companion. She looked straight ahead at the man at the other end of
the table, and watched as he stared back at her, eyes crinkled as he smiled
sardonically. How cocky he is, she thought. We'll see how he lasts. She moved up
and into the center of the table, and did a complete split, her back to him. She
knew that her ass could hold anyone's attention, and she was right. As she
spread herself on the cold table top, she felt better. Her legs splayed apart,
where she usually liked them, and only a small piece of fabric between her most
private place, and him. She rolled onto her back, and arched it, giving him a
perfect view down the ...
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