I never even got his name. I still needed another $50 to make rent for October and as I scanned the room looking at my potential lap dance candidates, I started feeling that old twinge of desperation. I turned toward the rear of the room and was intending to exit to the private dressing room when he touched my shoulder.
"Will you dance for me?" he asked.
I took the money from his hand and led him to a chair in the darkest part of the room near the entrance to the dressing room. Before he sat, he whispered in my ear, "I will gladly pay an additional fee if you will accommodate my only request...I have a preference for heels and fishnet stockings...would you indulge me? I will wait right here for you."
I exited quickly and rummaged through my bag of accessories in the cramped dressing quarters. I removed my nude stockings and thong panties and replaced them with a pair of black fishnet stockings (the sort with the extra large webbing), a simple black garter to keep them in place, and my favorite black patent leather stilettos. I returned to find him sitting where I left him.
As I approached, he didn't speak...simply turned me around and pulled me into his lap, his hands immediately moving to my thighs where he began to finger the skin through the openings of the fishnet.
"Customers are not permitted to touch us in this way, but it is dark back here and I can tell by the look in your eyes that you have a special interest in these stockings so I will allow it...for an additional fee." I whispered in his ear as I twisted toward him. He stuffed another bill into my bodice top.