Bad Girl's Club

~ One ~

I like to keep my personal life and my life at the club separate. Completely separate. Like, think of it as my coworkers don't even know my real name. They know me as Tery, or they use my stage name, Miss Tery. I chose it because, well, I wanted to remain a mystery to them. I showed up early that night, hoping to work the house for a little while, dishing out drinks and getting a few lap dances in before my stage performance at one. My heels were sky-high, my legs, arms, and pussy were freshly waxed, and I was ready for the night.

Before we get too far, I want to let you know a few things about me.

I'm a stripper. So what? And don't call me an exotic dancer, either. I mean, sure, I dance too, but really, I'm there to take my clothes off and stick my tits in your face for cash. Don't get me wrong, I like the dancing, I even like taking my clothes off, but I love your money even more.

Don't get too caught up in my history. I don't have daddy issues, I don't have a pimp, and I'm not looking for love in all the wrong places. I don't want your love. If you get any farther than copping a feel while I'm on the pole or the floor, your ass is out of the Club. If I like you, and you've got the right amount, well you might just be able to buy your way back to VIP, where management's policy is strictly "don't ask, don't tell." That means if you do manage to be one of the lucky ones, the second you tell your sleazebag friends about it, your done in the Bad Girls Club. It's our choice to take your money; I don't just sell myself to the highest bidder.

When the doors opened, I was already out on the floor, a pair of pasties covering my nipples and a black skirt that left nothing to the imagination. I served a few drinks before I saw my first target. He'd come to the club a few drinks in, and I had a feeling he was going to be easy money. I spent a moment fluffing my double Ds and headed his way, walking deliberately slowly toward him. He had the money out in his hand before I'd even crossed the room, and I tucked it into my G-string and got to work grinding on him.

He was a good looking guy. Maybe in his mid-thirties. I saw a tan-line on one of his fingers. Married, or recently not married. Married guys would always pay more to feel like a big man. I always started facing away, giving them a good shot of my ass, sitting in their lap and wigging around just a little bit. Sure, a hard on out of nowhere was pretty gross, but I kinda wanted to see what Mr. Married had to offer me. I watched his chiseled chin and salt'n'pepper beard while I danced, seeing desire set on his face. I looked at the clock, gave him one more really good close up of my tits, rubbed at the bulge in his jeans a little more with the whisper of panties I had on, then stood up, feigning disinterest. "Sorry, baby, time's up." Truth was, he had another four minutes, but he was wearing designer labels and had a watch that cost more than my apartment. I had to know he wanted to afford me.

Sure enough, he pulled out another wad of bills, and I even let him tuck them into my skirt He looked up at my face, faking a lusty look as I moved my hips in time with the slow music. I turned around for another ass-grind, and felt Mr. Married at full attention, straining those designer jeans. Goddamn, he was packing. Whoever left him was an idiot. Or maybe he was just a liar. 

A few lap dances later, and he wasn't showing any signs of letting me get away from him yet. Damn, either make a move or leave me alone. I got other things to do tonight. He offered to buy me a drink, and I let him. A good shot of tequila was just what I needed. When I got it, he handed it to me, and I stuck my tongue out, licking around the rim of the glass while making direct eye contact before I slammed the shot back. News flash: I'm not old enough to drink yet. Immediately, he offered to buy me another, thinking he might get a little something more if I was drunk. I called him on it, putting my hand right on his dick and squeezing just a little. "You trying to get me drunk?"

"Just trying to make sure everyone has a good time tonight."

I leaned in close to him, my hand still on his cock. "Well, you're about to have a good time right into your jeans. If you think you can hold it in until after my show at one, we might be able to have that good time, if you've got the cash to afford me." I let go of him and stood up. "Now buy me that drink and let me get back to work." I gave him a wink and a smile that anyone else would think was real. When the drinks came, I downed mine. He looked back at me with something in his eyes I couldn't quite place. Desperation? Sadness? I didn't know, and I would love to say that I didn't care, either. So what? I have a soft spot for sweet and innocent types, and Mr. Married seemed like one to me. 

Unfortunately, he ate up a lot of my time for pre-show dances, and I already had to get backstage and get changed. I headed back, shooting him a glance as I walked, smiling when I noticed he was still watching me walk away. Now that my night was pretty much lined up, and I was a couple hundred richer, it was turning out to be a pretty good night.