"Great," the owner smiled broadly, offering Ann an elbow, "Let me show you to the back... You can find something back there..." not completing the sentence 'to take off for my customers.' Before Tom was really aware of what was happening, his wife had disappeared through the heavy curtains left of the stage, which hid a door to the back of the club. The club owner was back in just a moment, though, sliding into the seat after waving to one of the waitresses and motioning for he and Tom to get fresh drinks.
"On you?" Tom asked, aware that he only had a little cash in his wallet. The owner laughed.
"I told you if she danced it would be." Tom relaxed; he even smiled.
"I didn't think she would do it," he told the owner honestly, "I'm Tom."
"That's what Ann said," the owner nodded, "I'm Leslie." Tom blinked and the owner laughed, "I know, my father must have hated me. It's OK... my friends call me Les." Tom nodded, picking up the new bottle a scantily clad waitress had dropped off at the table without really stopping. "Don't worry about your wife," Leslie was saying, "Nobody messes with my girls. Jacen over there," he nodded and Tom's eyes tracked, seeing the big bouncer who had let them into the club, "He's a cop and he knows how to handle the roughest customer. Last month he broke two guys' arms." Tom nodded, relieved at the presence of the big bouncer. As if he had sensed they were looking at him, Jacen turned, and seeing Tom and Leslie watching him, he waved briefly.
The DJ had thanked Missy for her dance. The crowd cheered, and Tom figured for whatever reason the bleach blonde was going to be the winner again.
"And now... a big round of applause for the virgin of the night... Ann." The guys along the rail seemed to sag, as if they did not expect any sort of show. Ann appeared at the back of the stage. She hesitated, and there were some hoots and whistles. Even in the shadows at the back of the stage, Tom could tell she was blushing. She came forward hesitantly, dressed not in the skimpy costume Missy had selected, but the same sundress she had worn to the club. "That's right," the DJ announced, "This is Ann's first contest, so treat her right!" As the music started, a heavy bass beat and a fast tempo, Ann began to shimmy her hips, moving along the edge of the stage, her arms over her head, shoulders moving, which set her breasts swaying.
When the tempo changed at the chorus, Ann was at the end of the long stage. Biting her lip, she spun bent at the waist, and flipped the dress up, revealing her panties. Tom realized she was wearing a thong after a long moment when it seemed that she was naked from the waist down. The crowd along the rail was certainly paying attention. Still facing away from the end where she was standing, she shimmied, then twitched her hips in a credible 'twerking' that brought whistles and applause.
'Take it off, take it off, take it off!' the men began to chant. Ann let the hem fall, then turned quickly, the momentum lifting the skirt again while her hand caught the tie of her dress. A moment later, she stopped moving and the dress seemed to unwind off of her body in an incredibly sexy manner. The guys cheered, eyeing Ann as she stood proudly on stage in just her sexy thong and matching lace bra. Her dress settled to the stage at her feet. Tom absently realized she was wearing garters.
He watched as his wife put her arms up, lifting her hair and emphasizing her cleavage in front and long graceful neck at the back as she strutted and pivoted around the edge of the stage. She looked amazing in just the sexy underwear. She paused near the back of the stage, bent at the waist, shaking her nearly bare ass, then reached back, releasing the clasp of her bra. She turned as she stood, trapping the loosened bra against her breasts with her forearm. She was beaming at the positive reaction of the men, who were going wild, as she pranced again around the edge of the stage. At the front, she paused, yanking the bra away from her chest, leaving her forearm covering her nipples and areolae, the bottom curve of both breasts fully visible.
Catching the pole, Ann spun around, the action leaving both breasts visible as she turned, leaning to emphasize their natural sway. Guys all around the edge of the stage were thrusting bills at her. Tom watched in proud delight, nursing his third beer in the time since Ann had left to dance. He could not quite believe what was happening... or how good Ann was doing.
"How's it feel watching your wife strip?" Leslie asked. Tom shrugged.
"Pretty good," he admitted, "I'm the one she goes home with." Leslie laughed and touched the neck of his bottle against Tom's.
"She's a hit," the club owner agreed, "And every guy here will be jealous of you." Tom smiled, watching as strangers tucked bills into his wife's garters. That had to have been something someone in back had suggested. Even if every bill was a $1 Tom was guessing Ann had made $100. The song was winding down, and his wife, lost in her performance, eyes closed as she swayed seductively, turned in profile and then bent at the waist, leaving her head at the level of her ankles. She reached up, catching the band of her thong and deftly sliding it down her shapely legs, aided by gravity the moment the flimsy panties were below the curve of her hips. The crowd went wild. Ann caught the bar, bracing a foot against it and stood, spinning half around to face the crowd while her body fell away from the bar, her breasts bouncing impressively as the men cheered again at the clear view of her neatly trimmed pubic thatch.
Delighted by the reaction, emboldened by the sense of power she had over the room full of men staring openly at her, Ann kicked her foot, sending the thong sailing into the crowd toward her husband. She spun to the other side of the stage, body gyrating to the pounding, pulsing music. When the last chorus began, she stood for a moment, then prowled the stage edge, pausing as she realized the men were holding bills to give her. Several were too short from their seats below the level of the stage to reach the garter high on her naked thigh. Ann dropped to her hands and knees, her big breasts bouncing and swaying as she moved around the stage like a feral cat, pausing only long enough for the men offering her tips to slip the bills into her garter.
At the end of the long stage, Ann rolled onto her firm ass, kicking her ankles in the air. She rolled again, eyes coming to rest on the $100 bill a man held out, leering at her.
"What's this worth, rookie?" he taunted. Without thinking, Ann licked her lips, staring pointedly at the man standing within arm's reach. She braced her feet on the edge of the stage, threw her arms over her head as she rolled onto her back, & she gave four lewd hip thrusts, as if she was fucking herself against her new admirer. The crowd howled, and the man's jaw dropped. Giggling, Tom's wife rolled gracefully onto her hands & knees again, shaking a hip until the man grudgingly tucked the impressive tip into her overflowing garter.
The song ended and she stood, scooping up her dress and covering herself as best as she could while making her way around the other side of the stage, collecting the last few dollars that had been tossed to her while she was dancing. The applause continued even after she had slipped through the curtain, swelling momentarily because she paused, shimmying her bare ass just before pushing through the heavy drapery.
She turned, peeking through the holes cut into the curtain to either side, the way she had seen other dancers doing when she had gone out on stage. The shadowy figures of men were still standing and clapping, whistles and shouts of 'more' filling the big room.
"Lets hear it for Ann!" the DJ's amplified voice echoed in the room and the men began to quiet down, "Judging from the applause, I think we have tonight's winner." The crowd cheered in agreement. "Tonight's $500 amateur prize winner is Ann!"
***
Tom did not know how long he and Leslie sat talking and drinking. He knew he would have spent a small fortune if Leslie had not picked up the tab. He blinked, seeing the beautiful woman standing beside him, and realized only after a second long glance it was his wife.
"You're drunk," Ann giggled. She was dressed again, although the panties had disappeared. She counted the glasses standing on the table in front of her husband, more than a little surprised, considering Tom usually did not drink.
"My God, honey, you were amazing," he slurred, tilting in his effort to move over in the booth. Ann slipped in beside him, looking at Leslie.
"How could you let him get this hammered?" The club owner, reached across the table, and without thinking about it, Ann offered her hand.
"Call me Leslie," he said, ignoring her question for a moment. She blinked, like people always did when they heard his name. It was an effective tool distracting people, putting them on the defensive and more often than not getting potential competitors to underestimate him. "We've just been talking and drinking." He sat back, waving a waitress over to take Ann's order. She did not see Leslie's momentary frown when she asked only for a cranberry juice. "It looked like you were enjoying yourself." Ann blushed prettily.
"I did." She bit her lip, glancing at her glassy eyed husband, "It wasn't at all what I thought... I mean I always liked dancing, but that was different... It was really hard when I started."
"Well you're a natural, Ann," Leslie assured her, "And it was all the guys who were hard when you were through." The pretty wife blushed once again. "Have they gotten you your prize money, yet?" Ann shook her head.
"Not yet," she held up the heavy envelope, "But There's gotta be more than $200 here... One man actually gave me a hundred." Leslie just shrugged, as if that money was nothing unusual. He waved the DJ over, the man grabbing an envelope from beneath his sound board.
Leslie rose to meet the DJ at Ann's side of the table. He turned, handing her the envelope, which was fat with bills. "Here you go," he smiled warmly, "You sure earned it." The DJ nodded his agreement.
