Post by dawn nissa carmichael on May 14, 2012 0:12:48 GMT -5
MOVE IF YOU WANNA
lights were down low, music up high. the bass pounded about the room, reverberating off the walls lined in wine coloured fabric. the music wasn't her favorite - a slower song without any definitive rhythm to follow, one that changed and morphed and was a song dawn could picture a married couple fucking to when they were trying to spice things up. dawn was pleased she wasn't cued to go on until the next song. towering stilettos carried the slender legs back and forth backstage, something that had become comfortable to the woman. in fact, dawn might have been more comfortable in high heels than she was barefoot. long since had the coquette felt nervous and tense on the slippery flooring of the stages she was to be twisting around any minute. three more paces carried her to the edge of the curtains, before she turned and sauntered back into the shadows - her own routine to get loosened up, though she had already stretched and was as ready as she'd ever be. she was booked for eleven o'clock - a very busy hour indeed, compared to the earlier hours of the night and the new girls who were employed to take those shifts. now, two of them stood back stage, now complete of their hour long shift and wrapped in robes, arms crossed, giving dawn some kind of dirty look. as she turned around, dawn's feline eyes immediately took them in. "fuck off," she said nonchalantly. the two standing averted their gazes somewhat but didn't move. a small smirk took over the full lips across dawn's lips, and she continued pacing. dawn could intimidate whoever she liked.
it wasn't something she was ashamed of. dawn didn't walk around bragging about her profession, but she enjoyed it. the feeling of being so wanted, so desirable by so many different eyes - the aspiring dancer relished the euphoria of the lust tangible in the air. limber fingers grasped the drink sitting on a stool off stage, bringing it to her lips and clinking a fake nail against the side of the glass. she was so far past being nervous of going on stage - however, there were small moments of... anxiety. not nervous, just anticipating. prepared, excited, a bit irritated. it was suddenly very quiet, and several whistles and hoots of drunkards lined the air as the next song came on and two long paces carried dawn out past the curtain, calf muscles adjusting slightly to walk across the slippery wood. she could practically feel the brushing of eyes across her lean body. dawn extended a hand to her pole, ignoring the entrance of the other girls coming on stage and already getting the feel of the next song.
if dawn had to give a preference for the music she preferred to dance to, it would without doubt be... heavy. deep bass, pounding beats, but still moving and stirring - not slow and sleepy. upbeat but slow, charged with energy without being too fast. there were strobes on right now, and dawn blinked before her fingers grasped the cold metal, images shifting oddly around her because of the abstract blinking of white and black lights. she pulled herself around it with a straight arm, closing the distance and pulling in the taut skin of her stomach as the cool metal shocked her already warmed skin. black or red were the two colors she was willing to wear, and tonight, both colors adorned her mostly naked body - along with a dangly silver string dropping from her belly button and wrapping in a spiderweb-thin string around her waist, loose but not enough to fall off the dramatic curve from waist to hips. dawn bent her legs, moving to the floor and gazing down through heavy set lashes, tension finding its way into the long muscles in her lower back, arching it and pulling back up against the pole. the strobes turned off just as she leaned back, tipping her neck open to the air, and feeling the tips of her chocolate brown hair brush against the sensitive skin just above the back of the ebony lace panties.
it wasn't often that dawn thought or worried about who was there watching her. as previously covered, she wasn't at all embarrassed about her profession. it never affected her outside life. she was sexy enough to strip, and those who were repulsed for whatever reason by that, could go fuck themselves and tended not to mess with her. otherwise, she enjoyed her job. the occasional idiot would confuse her for a prostitute and assumed she went back and had sex with whoever threw her a twenty dollar bill. oh no. dawn considered her profession classy out the roof compared to prostitution. the most one on one action she got professionally was a private dance, and in that case, she had to like the man who liked her. there was no fat drunk sweaty man fucking in this strip club.
pulling herself quickly back to the pole, dawn turned around it a bit, now leaving her back to the pole and dropping in a liquid motion, almost kneeling, and turned to face the pole, walking her fingers up (hips following the footsteps of her nails in a drowsy, smooth shake) and let a playful smirk take over her lips as she picked up a brisk walk, pole still in her fingers, and she turned abruptly, coasting around it with her toned legs slightly bent. it wasn't fun to get to the crazy moves until later in the song. more buildup was similar to more foreplay. nearing the bottom of the pole, dawn glanced out into the audience for the first time to make eye contact with a man about halfway near the back of the room. he was familiar, though the next moment she was turning more and couldn't have remembered who he was.
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it wasn't something she was ashamed of. dawn didn't walk around bragging about her profession, but she enjoyed it. the feeling of being so wanted, so desirable by so many different eyes - the aspiring dancer relished the euphoria of the lust tangible in the air. limber fingers grasped the drink sitting on a stool off stage, bringing it to her lips and clinking a fake nail against the side of the glass. she was so far past being nervous of going on stage - however, there were small moments of... anxiety. not nervous, just anticipating. prepared, excited, a bit irritated. it was suddenly very quiet, and several whistles and hoots of drunkards lined the air as the next song came on and two long paces carried dawn out past the curtain, calf muscles adjusting slightly to walk across the slippery wood. she could practically feel the brushing of eyes across her lean body. dawn extended a hand to her pole, ignoring the entrance of the other girls coming on stage and already getting the feel of the next song.
if dawn had to give a preference for the music she preferred to dance to, it would without doubt be... heavy. deep bass, pounding beats, but still moving and stirring - not slow and sleepy. upbeat but slow, charged with energy without being too fast. there were strobes on right now, and dawn blinked before her fingers grasped the cold metal, images shifting oddly around her because of the abstract blinking of white and black lights. she pulled herself around it with a straight arm, closing the distance and pulling in the taut skin of her stomach as the cool metal shocked her already warmed skin. black or red were the two colors she was willing to wear, and tonight, both colors adorned her mostly naked body - along with a dangly silver string dropping from her belly button and wrapping in a spiderweb-thin string around her waist, loose but not enough to fall off the dramatic curve from waist to hips. dawn bent her legs, moving to the floor and gazing down through heavy set lashes, tension finding its way into the long muscles in her lower back, arching it and pulling back up against the pole. the strobes turned off just as she leaned back, tipping her neck open to the air, and feeling the tips of her chocolate brown hair brush against the sensitive skin just above the back of the ebony lace panties.
it wasn't often that dawn thought or worried about who was there watching her. as previously covered, she wasn't at all embarrassed about her profession. it never affected her outside life. she was sexy enough to strip, and those who were repulsed for whatever reason by that, could go fuck themselves and tended not to mess with her. otherwise, she enjoyed her job. the occasional idiot would confuse her for a prostitute and assumed she went back and had sex with whoever threw her a twenty dollar bill. oh no. dawn considered her profession classy out the roof compared to prostitution. the most one on one action she got professionally was a private dance, and in that case, she had to like the man who liked her. there was no fat drunk sweaty man fucking in this strip club.
pulling herself quickly back to the pole, dawn turned around it a bit, now leaving her back to the pole and dropping in a liquid motion, almost kneeling, and turned to face the pole, walking her fingers up (hips following the footsteps of her nails in a drowsy, smooth shake) and let a playful smirk take over her lips as she picked up a brisk walk, pole still in her fingers, and she turned abruptly, coasting around it with her toned legs slightly bent. it wasn't fun to get to the crazy moves until later in the song. more buildup was similar to more foreplay. nearing the bottom of the pole, dawn glanced out into the audience for the first time to make eye contact with a man about halfway near the back of the room. he was familiar, though the next moment she was turning more and couldn't have remembered who he was.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - open to any male
