The music was loud, the club was dimly lit and filled with men and women for the show. My hands gripped the pole and I moved my petite body around it. Gyrating my hips to the potent beats of the music. I was wearing tight pussy printing shorts that rode high up my ample butt baring half the cheeks. My navel ring shone below the gold sequined alter top that barely covered my B-cups. My costume was complete with a bright red bob wig, harlot red lipstick, long curling lashes and perfectly applied make-cup that transformed my facial features into Gypsie as I was popularly known at the club.
Every time I stepped unto the stage at ‘Candy Fantasies’ and started moving I was a completely different person. I had to keep my mind focused on why I was doing this. A sick mother and severely autistic brother’s medical bills, no father support plus my school fees. My mind was always blank as I did my routine sliding on, down and around the pole to the rhythm of the music. The men cheered and threw their money on the stage. There was a way to discreetly take up the bills while maintaining the skillful movements. The more experienced girls were often called on to do lap dances or private favors in the VIP parlors. I have only given a few lap dances to various customers. I hated those because it was hard to ask them to keep their hands to themselves. They always reeked of liquor and they groped and touched aggressively as if you were an article on sale at a market. I guess they were trying to get their money’s worth since they paid extra for these extra favors.
“Yow Gypsie! Di big man inna VIP request yu!” Peter the manager shouted to me after I finished my session and was exiting the stage.
I rolled my eyes and peered toward the back of the club in the dark VIP area. It was hard to make out who the person was. It was probably just another regular. Most nights the club was filled with regulars, very few new faces every once in a while.
“You sure a me him ask fa?” I asked Peter since I was rarely requested in the VIP area.
“You a di only dancer inna red hair and gold sequine, so yea mi sure. So hurry up and gwaan”, Peter ordered. He was serious about pleasing his customers. ‘Happy customers made loyal customers’, he always chanted.
I made my way to the back strutting sexily in my gold knee high 6 inch stiletto boots. The boots made me a few inches taller and didn’t make me feel so small especially when I’m on stage. I was cringing mentally just imagining a stranger groping me. I was not in the mood tonight. Was I ever in the mood? Probably never.
I saw him sitting in the dark. He was surrounded by about five men all armed with shiny handguns. He was sitting, his body guards standing. His face was hidden by the shadows, so I couldn’t make out his features at all. I could see a tall athletic body, slender yet toned wearing a black jacket over a buttoned down shirt opened to the chest revealing a single gold chain around his neck that hung to his chest, straight jeans and Hushpuppies. It wasn’t uncommon for ‘bosses’ to come into the club. It was actually a hot spot for them; but again usually they asked for dances from the more experienced dancers.
As I approached their table the men instinctively blocked my way stopping me from getting close.
“Somebody ordered Gypsie”, I said with as much attitude to show my annoyance. He moved his hands and the men cleared a path for me. Was he the fucking Messiah?! I rolled my eyes in my head. Obviously he was some kind of don. Why did he have to choose me? There were so many other sexy women taking the stage who had way more sex appeal in my estimation. I stepped closer to him. He didn’t speak a word, he sat back in his chair, his long legs apart, staring at me as I got closer to him. I was still unable to make out his facial features when I got to him. Cham’s ‘Whine pan di buddy’ started playing. I sighed inwardly and his henchmen gave us their backs, I guess to give their ‘boss’ some privacy. I couldn’t see his face but I could smell him and man did he smell yummy. He smelt like Davidoff ‘Cool Water’ mixed with Apple Vodka.
Maybe it was best to give him the lap dance with my back to his face. Maybe it would make him more comfortable and me less uncomfortable. I hated lap dances. With my eyes closed, I started whining and bumping on his lap. Bending over low and giving him a perfect view of my ass. I waited for the groping to start but even a few minutes into the song he still hadn’t touched me. Half way through the song he grabbed my waist and twisted my body and so that I landed straddling his lap and facing him. A small gasp escaped my lips but I doubt he heard me above the loud music. That was the only contact he made with his hands. As close as I was I couldn’t see his face and only my body made contact with his, I was not allowed to touch him. It was hard. This position was erotic; I must admit. It took a special kind of skill to be this close to him and not touch him except with my lower body. Especially with how good he smelled.
He was watching me, I couldn’t see his eyes but I could feel them. Usually I close my eyes during a lap dance and try to picture my boyfriend Mark, but this one was proving to be a little more difficult. Also, picturing someone in an erotic position was difficult when that person stopped being intimate and was holding out on you, claiming we should wait until we were married. I rolled my eyes inwardly at the thought. He was the first and only man I’ve ever been with, and I guess our plan was to get married and start a family someday; but at the way things were going for me that someday was not just yet. He was way more hopeful. I don’t know what the fuck it was with him, he wanted all the things that I should want but I was more focused on the goals I needed to achieve.
I held my arms aloft as I continued to whine on this sweet smelling stranger’s lap, my breasts bobbing up and down as I did. He sat upright suddenly so our upper bodies were touching. “Touch yourself,” he whispered close to my ear but still not touching me. His voice sent an electric spark through my body and I did as he asked grabbing my breasts and squeezing as I jumped up and down on his lap, almost exposing the nipples that were barely covered. His face was now very close to my chest but he made no move to touch me. Wow. This is turning me on. I was used to feeling a man’s dick rising as I bumped on it but this, this was different. This man, his smell, his anonymity, his soft command, the danger I could sense in him, me touching my breasts and pulling on the nipples was like molten lava gliding through my body. Just a few more minutes and the song would be over. Did I want it to be over? Fuck! I don’t think I have ever been so turned on! I needed to focus and get the job done. It was so easy to get caught up in that life. The other girls were all about giving the favors for the money. Dancing was enough for me.
“Fucking incredible,” he whispered close to my ear when the song ended and I stopped moving. Did I detect a hint of an accent? It was hard to tell. I could barely hear him as that song ended and another one started immediately. Luckily it was too dark for him to see the embarrassed look on my face. I certainly don’t know what was so incredible about ME. He still hadn’t touched me, it was strange. Usually I hate being groped but for some reason I wanted this stranger to touch me. I guess top shotta nu touch what nu belong to him. Who is this mysterious man? I cant say i’ve ever seen him here before, but then again I didn’t do many dances. I scooted off him without responding. His men were now facing us, one of them holding two $5000 bills. I took them from his hand not saying anything and walked pass him.
“Raaaaay!!! Ah so yah gwaan?” Marsha said excitedly as I made my way from the VIP area to the bar where Marshing was manning for the night. Marsha was the closest thing I had to a friend at work. She taught me a lot of the moves; especially how to work the pole. She was older and way more experienced. I had a hard time with pole when I first started, but with much practice and Marsha’s patience for the past year I’ve gotten better.
“Not by choice” I said rolling my eyes. “Who that anyway?”
She gasped. Shocked that I didn’t know him.
“Gal! That’s Neeko! Him have the whole a Kingston lock! Usually him ask fi Monique fi do him lap dance a wah so tonight?,” she was looking at me suggestively.
“Nope. I never ask fi it none at all! But him tip good yu fuck!” I said thinking about the 10,000 I made from just one lap dance. That could buy some groceries for my house.
“Wah?! Look like you can keep da one deh”
“You know me nu interested fi nubaddy a touch touch me!” I said in defiance.
“Yea mi know but remember why you doing the job in the first place,” Marsha said looking at me seriously.
“Yea don’t remind me.” I rolled my eyes.
“Speaking of which don’t you have an early day tomorrow? Your shift is finish you need to come go home,”
I was still curious about the stranger, though I tried to hide it. “Ahm, is he Jamaican?”
Marsha looked at me suspiciously as she wiped the bar counter, but she answered me anyway, “Him born here but him live inna the States fi years. Now he travels back and forth regularly. Why you ask?”
“No reason, I just thought I heard an accent.”
“No make the accent fool you a him run these streets,” she said as she looked toward the darkened VIP area. “Come man a time fi you go clean off and leave, you know you likkle goody two shoes boyfriend soon reach a di spot fi meet you.” Marsha knew that Mark met me at the Burger King close to the club. I told everyone I worked the late shift at the Burger King. According to Mark It was dangerous to go into our neighborhood late at night. For me, I was fine. I grew up in that area and was known, but I guess Mark wanted to be a ‘good boyfriend’.
Mi nu understand why you with him enu, Leah”, she continued, using my real name and not my stage name. She was the only one who knew my real identity. “Look how pretty and sexy you are. And you super smart. Him should be working and take care of you.”
“Shhh” I said looking round to make sure no one was close by.
“Just come go change, clean up, and come go home man,” she saiid impatiently. She didn’t like the fact that I was doing this, but she knew I didn’t have a choice. She also didn’t like the fact that Mark didn’t want to get a job to help support me. He wanted an ‘office’ job with his five CXCs and refused to do menial jobs.
I cleaned up quickly and changed into jeans and a Burger King polo shirt I got from Marsha, that served as my “uniform”. My short natural hair was in a pixie cut with orange blonde curls that were in contrast to my dark chocolate skin tone. I jogged the 1 kilometer distance to the BK where I saw Mark waiting outside. He was wearing jeans with his t-shirt tucked in. I rolled my eyes at how proper/ old he looked. I took some deep breaths to calm my breathing before approaching him.
“Hey”, I said as I came up behind him.
“Oh hey Lee. I thought you were never going to leave.” He said peering into the store that was now partially dark.
“Yea, I had some things to do,” I lied easily.
He took my took my tote and we started walking toward our community in the middle of one of Kingston’s most volatile areas. We walked in silence and I couldn’t help but think how much I wished for some physical contact from Mark, especially after my encounter with the stranger that left me so turned on.
“Ahm Mark, can I at least get a kiss?” I asked, knowing the answer but hoping. I really needed physical contact right now. My body was in heat.
“Lee, we already talk about this. We need to abstain from these things, its not of God. When we get married we can do it as much as we want.” He said smiling and linking his fingers with mine. There was no connection, no electricity, but I knew he was faithful and loyal; so I smiled up at him and continued walking in silence. “We don’t need to be sinning we have the rest of our lives to do that thing,” he continued. He couldn’t even bring himself to say the word sex.
I sighed inwardly. I guess I’m going to lock myself in the bathroom and use my fingers again tonight. Mark’s house was about a block from mine. He left me at my gate bidding me goodnight without as much as a hug.
Our tiny house was quiet as Lincoln and mommy were both already asleep. I went straight to the shower to not only wash the day’s grime from my body but also to give myself some release.
I wet my fingers with my saliva and rubbed on my clit closing my eyes while I tried to put a face to the body that was under mine tonight. I couldn’t see his face but I could still smell him and hear that deep sexy voice echoing the words he whispered in my ear at the end of the dance, “fucking incredible” and my body tipped over the edge of the precipice and spiraled into bliss. I bit my rag to stifle the moans of pleasure elicited by my fingers.
I settled into bed beside my mother thinking about the night. I’m happy no one could figure out who I was and I could do my shifts unbothered. Or so I thought, I didn’t see the lone figure standing on the curb smoking a cigarette when I exited from the delivery entrance of the club dressed in my usual Burger King ‘uniform’ and tote on my shoulder; nor did I notice my picture being snapped with a smartphone as I made my way toward the Burger King…
Hello guys!
Here’s another erotica series. I hope you will enjoy it as much as you did Cleo ;)
