The D.J. broke through the cheers of the crowd and the house music "A round of applause gentlemen for the Sexy Satin!" The audience was hardly exclusively male, many a lady were present and equally captivated by the performer. A roar followed. Just the curvaceous silhouette of the dancer was visible for a moment before disappearing behind the heavy curtain.
Barely clad waitress made their way through the dim club, negotiating with patrons for drink orders and other services available by various members of the staff. The room was, if anything, loud. Between the music and the howls, one could hardly find piece of mind to think. In truth he didn't come here to think, he came for her.
From his shadow he patiently waited. Reflecting silently upon how this was the third night in a row he found his way here. For some one who believes in fate it was no accident he ended up in this place. The first night it was just to meet a client who turned up as a no show and caught just a glimpse of her. The rest of the evening and the next day the same image of her face looking back over her bare shoulder played and replayed again and again.
On the second night as the debate ensued to whether he should go back and seek out this woman. He found himself sitting at a table, directly opposite center the stage. With his back to the wall, just beyond the glow of the neon, in the shades, sipping mineral water with a twist of lemon. During her act, enthralled by her moves, time had no place. Eye contact was made, and again and yet again. At the end of her set she lingered for a final exchange of looks and then was gone.
Pulling himself to the present as the waitress brought another drink. Easing back in his seat and waited.
"Here's a lady that means business! Put your hands together and welcome β¦RAYNE!!!"
The spotlight burst to life hitting her at the back of the stage. Standing in a dark blue power suit with skirt, black stockings and high heels. Hair up in a bun, wire rim glasses surrounding dazzling eyes that peered down a neatly folded Wall Street Journal. Her only other prop, an attachΓ© in her other hand.
A silence came over the crowd as the speaker erupted with 'Shook Me All Night Long'. Step after step walking past the two brass poles to the very edge of the stage. Her movement of grace and nonchalance. As if taken notice of the audience for the first time, a flick of her wrist and the newspaper fluttered down. And so the first roar took place.
Turning around, grabbing the pole, swirling once before flinging the case to the rear. Her head snapping back when she kicked incredibly high, the spike of her heel threatening to stab the ceiling. Foot slamming to the stage, one after the other. Stopping in the middle, looking over her shoulder to someone in the crowd. Pulling her glasses off and teasingly using the leg to trace her lips before pearly whites bite playfully. An underhanded toss to her admirers would have gone unnoticed except that the hand that caught them had blood red fingernails, easily seen in Raynes' spotlight.
Intrigued by this woman who vied for Raynes' attention, he found himself unsurprisingly aroused.
Taking hold of the other pole with one hand, the other releasing her hair from the bun. As she circles, a wild mane breaks free, that bounces and rides the shoulders.
One sleeve fell and then the next. The blazer found it's way to the growing pile. Grasping the brass with both hands, pulling herself up and inverting, heels once more to the sky, legs in a death grip as open palms reached out.
Righting herself, she loosened her tie, while tugging free her shirttails. Seductively she angled her body, painstakingly slow she, using only her thumb and index, the other fingers fanned out, drew down the zipper of her skirt. With a collective gasp and hush, it fell, ending up as a halo around her ankles.
Another high kick and the garment went sailing through the air. Open hands covered her bosom, cupping roughly, squeezing and pulling. Howls and cries as the mob began to frenzy. Fingers curling at the material, letting the heat rise. A fluid ripping back motion as the dress shirts breakaway buttons let fly. Losing the ruined button down, but not before twirling it a few times around over her, did she let it loose to the masses now chanting her name. Caressing her bountiful blessings, thumbs rubbing the already pert nipples. Dropping down to her knees while again taking notice to the crowd.
On all fours, she now stalked like a big cat, eyes fixed on her prey. Nearing with every breath, driving the mob wild with anticipation. An outstretched arm with wanton open hand flashed out, and long fingers curled around Raynes', still hanging, tie. Reeling her in, head angling as they approached. She up on the balls over her feet, barely reaching. Rayne leaning over the edge of the platform, her plummet seeming almost imminent. Each reaching to the others cheek for support, but more likely just for the sensation of the touch. Their lips part as they barely make contact, deeply kissing. Tongues passing hungrily over one an others. He found himself longing like every other man in there. They continued, with their every fiery exchange, teetering.
The music now coming to and end, they both pulled back and she peers into the shadowy corner and winks while licking her lips. A final caress of the lady's' cheek before gathering herself up and sauntering to the curtain.
Customary at this point she paused; her eyes darted back and forth to what she knew and what she did not.