Author's Note: I wrote this about fourteen years for my writing class in college and thought to put it on the site for giggles. It is about a man's interaction with a stripper and the thoughts of both.
Thoughts behind the Dance
By James Shelby (formally K-Dogg)
*****
The Customer
I walked into the place at 2 PM and took a seat towards the entrance. This was my first time here, and I was excited. The place was different than what is seen of places like this in movies and music videos. The place had dark reddish glow to it. It was more than a bar but less than a restaurant. On the left side of the place, it had tables, each with two black chairs on the left and right side of it. Behind the tables was a couch seat that extended from the bathroom door to far end of the place. On top of the seat, there were mirrors to remind everyone of where they were. The walls were black and mysterious, as though hiding a secret from the outside world. The middle of the place had a stage with white lights to encircle it, making it the center of attention. On stage, the dancer of the hour danced sensuously with the pole at her side. She had green-colored thong panties. Her uncovered breasts swayed with the rhythm of the music. She was trying to attract any man with a lot of cash and a lustful glare in his eye. On the right side, the bar was packed with guys who were trying to get their drink on.
"Would you like some company," asked a young woman. "Sure," I said.
The woman in the red jumpsuit sat down next to me. "My name is Mercedes," said the beautiful woman with a smile.
I told her my name automatically. 'Man, she is beautiful.' I thought. I looked at her as if she was a work of art. She had caramel looking skin with brown eyes looking at me wonder and amazement. It had the look of silk. The odd thing was the diamonds in the middle of her forehead. They made her shine out even in the darkness of the place. Her name matched her look. A luxury that many can obtain, but only few can maintain.
The Stripper
I just got out from the dressing room with my red jumpsuit. I listened to the music on the radio played by the club's DJ. I looked around the place to scoop out the guys there. There were the regulars that come in at their lunchtime to have a 'special treat' with their meal. The irony is that with the same amount they spend here they could a woman or a nice present for their wife or girlfriend. Yeah right, whom am I kidding? These freaks, losers, pigs, and wanna-be players couldn't get any women, much less a fine sexy thing like me. Besides, why should a wife or girlfriend get all a guy's money? I work hard for that money. I get all pretty, diet, exercise, stand in high heels killing my feet, get half naked and shake my ass for him. I deserve my share of his money. College isn't going to pay for itself, and I'll be damned if I going to pay a student loan for the rest of my life. Anyway, I looked around the place and spot a guy in the table near the entrance. I've never seen him before in here. He had on red and orange stripe buttoned down shirt with some brown pants. He didn't look like he was made of money but looks can be deceiving so I decided to make a new 'friend'.