This is my first story, and I've found that it's really hard to verbalize what happens when people hit on each other. If anyone has any suggestions as to how I can exactly describe the body language, tone of voice, etc. so that readers can experience it like I did, that would be appreciated. I hope you like reading the story. I sure as hell liked writing about it.
It was my first day on the job, and I was nervous. Not for the usual reasons, but because this was a different kind of job than I'd ever had before. My job descriptions had always involved invoicing and filing, not poles. Or getting naked.
There were twelve girls and one stage with two poles at this particular club. I liked the set up. The stage started in a runway kind of thing, like the girls were models. It ended with a large, square shaped area located sort of in the middle of the club, except off to the side a little bit. There were seats on every side of the stage, which I liked. It felt like what it was, a strip show instead of play or something. There were strobe lights and balls that hung from the ceiling and flashed different colors, like at a dance club. It was nice. It wasn't high class, but it wasn't gross either. There was no sex in the champagne room, not with the customers anyway.
Most of the girls were really pretty, but not very talented. A couple of them could work the pole, but the others were either not strong enough or didn't care enough. Luckily for them, the customers didn't care much either. I guess if a girl is mostly naked, that's good enough for them.
I was not thinking about any of this as I got ready for my first set ever. Nervously, I checked the profile of my ass in the mirror for the hundredth time while I tried not to puke. I usually have no problems with the way I look, but I could have sworn I'd become hideous in the last few hours.
"Don't worry, your ass looks hot," a blonde girl said as she walked into the dressing room. In the mirror I saw her check out my ass as she walked by behind me.
You're probably thinking that her blonde hair was fake, her boobs were fake, and her tan was fake. No. I don't know about her tan, but for sure her hair and tits were 100% real. She also was not a ditz. She did have a very happy vibe, but not the annoying kind. She seemed like she was just happy about life. The thing that really set her apart, though, was her smile. I'd never thought about a girl's smile before, it was the kind of thing that just happened. But when she smiled, it lit up the room. I didn't even know what that phrase meant before, but that's what her smile was like.
My nerves were momentarily forgotten. I turned around to look at her directly. "You think so?" I asked, half smiling.
She looked up at me, pausing from digging through her purse. A kind of unspoken, mutual realization came to us when we realized that we were both attracted to each other. "It's just as hot as the rest of you," she said.
I gave her a slow smile, then bit the inside of my lip sensuously. She returned it, and I refocused on my reflection in the mirror. "Thanks," I said, like I meant it. And I did. It's always nice to find out that a really hot girl is attracted to you.
A few seconds passed until she broke the silence, making small talk. "This is your first time dancing?" she asked, pulling a bottle of purple body lotion from a bag.
"Yeah," I replied, my attention half on my hair and half on her. "I'm so nervous. Why are they making me go first?" It wasn't fair.
Laughing, she said, "They like to do that. Every new girl always has to go first. I had to." She moved so she was standing next to me, close enough for me to feel the heat of her body as she matter-of-factly rubbed lotion on her arms. My nerves caught fire from being so close to her.
I gave her my full attention. I rested my weight on both hands on the edge of the counter, leaning forward to look at her in the mirror. I made sure not to move any farther away from her, though. "How long have you worked here?" I asked.
She sensed the change in me and looked at my reflection. She held my gaze in the mirror while she talked. "Two months. Nobody stays here very long," she said, still rubbing the lotion into her arms. She really wanted to get it in there, I guess.
I smelled trouble. "Why not?" I asked, wondering what I might have gotten myself into.
She shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. "Mostly problems with the management."
I decided not to push it. Standing up straight, I offered her my hand. "You know, I never introduced myself. I'm Julianna."