It seemed to Nichelle that an autumn day could not have dawned any more perfectly than this one had. The sun shone down brightly and reflected beautifully off the gleaming blue waters of the mountain lake that she had set her tent by the previous evening. Early morning bird calls filled the clean, cool air and left her feeling magnificently refreshed. Murmuring one of her favorite songs to herself, she went about the business of breaking camp and began her hike back to her Land Rover, parked 5 miles away. No more than an hour later, she had stowed her gear in the back of her ride and was buckling herself in, headed for home. After all, today was Monday and she had to be in town for work. Not that she felt any joy from that particular thought. Shaking her ass for money, was not the dream job she had always assumed it would be, but it more than paid her bills and helped pay for schooling so it would do for now.
Three hours later, she pulled into the parking space in front of her weather-beaten brownstone. "Home again, woo-hoo." she mumbled to herself, a slight grin on her pixie-ish face.
A long hot shower, a big cup of chamomile tea and she was more than ready to lay back down. It was all ready noon, and she had to work a 9 hour shift tonight, starting at 6pm.
When she arrived at the club, she noted that no-one seemed to be around. Of course, this early in the evening, it was always that way. Most guys would not even attempt to come out until after dinner with their families or girlfriends. She headed to the dressing rooms, carrying her pack.
About 9pm, business began to pick-up. Nichelle was one of those rare strippers who waited tables between sets. It augmented her dance money and gave her time to simply pretend she was not one of those hoochie girls on stage. It was while she was making the rounds that she felt the weight of someone's stare upon her back.
Nichelle turned around, and locked eyes with a man who had an utterly beguiling smile and killer green eyes. Being a dark-skinned half latino, half black female, she wasn't so sure that he was actually gazing at her. Turning around quickly, she noticed no other females in her general vicinity and so decided to head his way.
"Hello love, can I help you?" she asked quietly, her mother's Spanish accent adding colour to her words.
"Oui, ma petite. I would like a shot, Sloe Gin. The color is so very pretty, non?" The gentleman had an accent, like French a la New Orleans. The tone and slow romantic way he spoke sent chills straight up her spine, and amazingly wetted her slit.
"I have never had it, love. But I will get it for you."
Nichelle walked slowly away, her high, rounded ass and hips giving a little more shake than normal as she walked over to the bar and gave Tony, the bartender, her orders.
After making the rounds, she returned once more to the gentleman's table, bearing his shot of Sloe Gin, which was thick and deeply reddish, sort of like blood. He greeted her with a charming smile, his eyes lingering upon her face, unlike most guys who come to strip clubs.
