Status: I think I may like this story. it could be a keeper.
And Then I Take Off My Glasses And Become Sexy, You Know?
I'm My Own Destiny.
The music. The lights. The outfits. The faces. It was all so overwhelming. One at a time, the pole girls would go out and work the pole. You could definitely tell which girls were more experienced. I mean, these girls could just wrap their legs around the pole and spiral and flip and do all sorts of tricks, all the while looking as sexy as ever. The countless men just sat there, waiting for the pole girls to approach them. Near the back of the club, other men were getting lap dances from the floor girls. And in the champagne room, men were spending way more money than they bargain for on the sleaziest girls.
Then there was me. The manager, Steve, wanted to have me start as a pole girl. But, Karma didn't think I should get center stage on my first shift. So, I'm trying to do my best as a floor girl. This guy I was assigned to was repulsive. This overweight, sweaty, poor excuse for a man practically grasped his hands around my waist and pulled me towards his crotch. Of course, I couldn't smack his hands away. But, I just kinda grabbed a hold on his hands and dropped them, turning towards him and dancing as slutty as I could. I was swaying my hips and turning all around and shaking my ass. I looked at him a few times and he seemed to like it. He had this disgusting grin on his face and the sweat was building up on his forehead. All of a sudden, he looked a bit familiar. I backed up, shaking my ass right in front of his face.
"Nice job, newbie," Steve said to me after my shift, "You had what, five guys on the floor tonight?" All the girls were backstage changing, but I decided to stay and clean up the club, raking in a few extra bucks.
"Umm, yeah. Thanks, I think," I said, not making eye contact with him. I was still in my outfit, fishnets, stilettos, a corset top and booty shorts. My makeup was a bit smudged and my hair was a little frizzy from the humidity . It was so hot and almost steamy in the club.
"Don't you have to get home?" Steve asked, wiping down the tables.
"I have work in the morning. But, I can clean." I said, still not looking up at him.
"If I gave you $50, would you go home?" he asked, digging in his pocket. He held out the money to me, and I really had no other choice but to take it. I handed him the broom I was using and ran backstage without a word. I threw my sweatpants on, my hoodie, and my sneakers and threw my outfit in my bag.
"Goodnight," Steve yelled after me as I ran out of the club. I turned left into the alley and counted all the money I made that night. With my tips and the fifty Steve gave me, I made about $250 tonight. I can afford rent this month.
( `'*., ( `'*., ( `'*., ,.*'` ) ,.*'` ) ,.*'` ) ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ( `'*., ( `'*., ( `'*., ,.*'` ) ,.*'` ) ,.*'` )
"Hey, Ms. Jones. I don't have a library card, but I'd sure like to check you out," some pimply nerd said to me. He was holding Harry Potter and had this huge cheesy smile on his face, as if that wasn the first library pun I've ever heard.
"That was genius," I said, scanning his book. He looked down at the floor, flushed. I handed him his book and watched him walk away, still looking at the floor.
"So..." Mr. Moore came out of nowhere. He's this guy who I think is supposed to be a special needs teacher, but all he ever does is come in here and spy on me.
"Hey Dudley," I said, going through the Returned Books cart.
"So, I think I ran into you last night," he said with this weird smirk plastered on his face.
" I don't think so. I didn't go out last night," I said, not putting the pieces together.
"Alright, Destiny. Forget I said anything then," he said, leaning against the wall. Oh, shit. The uncombed hair, the scruffy beard, the sweaty complexion, the noticable beer gut.
I gave my colleague a lap dance last night.
Then there was me. The manager, Steve, wanted to have me start as a pole girl. But, Karma didn't think I should get center stage on my first shift. So, I'm trying to do my best as a floor girl. This guy I was assigned to was repulsive. This overweight, sweaty, poor excuse for a man practically grasped his hands around my waist and pulled me towards his crotch. Of course, I couldn't smack his hands away. But, I just kinda grabbed a hold on his hands and dropped them, turning towards him and dancing as slutty as I could. I was swaying my hips and turning all around and shaking my ass. I looked at him a few times and he seemed to like it. He had this disgusting grin on his face and the sweat was building up on his forehead. All of a sudden, he looked a bit familiar. I backed up, shaking my ass right in front of his face.
"Nice job, newbie," Steve said to me after my shift, "You had what, five guys on the floor tonight?" All the girls were backstage changing, but I decided to stay and clean up the club, raking in a few extra bucks.
"Umm, yeah. Thanks, I think," I said, not making eye contact with him. I was still in my outfit, fishnets, stilettos, a corset top and booty shorts. My makeup was a bit smudged and my hair was a little frizzy from the humidity . It was so hot and almost steamy in the club.
"Don't you have to get home?" Steve asked, wiping down the tables.
"I have work in the morning. But, I can clean." I said, still not looking up at him.
"If I gave you $50, would you go home?" he asked, digging in his pocket. He held out the money to me, and I really had no other choice but to take it. I handed him the broom I was using and ran backstage without a word. I threw my sweatpants on, my hoodie, and my sneakers and threw my outfit in my bag.
"Goodnight," Steve yelled after me as I ran out of the club. I turned left into the alley and counted all the money I made that night. With my tips and the fifty Steve gave me, I made about $250 tonight. I can afford rent this month.
( `'*., ( `'*., ( `'*., ,.*'` ) ,.*'` ) ,.*'` ) ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ( `'*., ( `'*., ( `'*., ,.*'` ) ,.*'` ) ,.*'` )
"Hey, Ms. Jones. I don't have a library card, but I'd sure like to check you out," some pimply nerd said to me. He was holding Harry Potter and had this huge cheesy smile on his face, as if that wasn the first library pun I've ever heard.
"That was genius," I said, scanning his book. He looked down at the floor, flushed. I handed him his book and watched him walk away, still looking at the floor.
"So..." Mr. Moore came out of nowhere. He's this guy who I think is supposed to be a special needs teacher, but all he ever does is come in here and spy on me.
"Hey Dudley," I said, going through the Returned Books cart.
"So, I think I ran into you last night," he said with this weird smirk plastered on his face.
" I don't think so. I didn't go out last night," I said, not putting the pieces together.
"Alright, Destiny. Forget I said anything then," he said, leaning against the wall. Oh, shit. The uncombed hair, the scruffy beard, the sweaty complexion, the noticable beer gut.
I gave my colleague a lap dance last night.