TERRA STOOD AT THE END of the grand stage, her body covered with spiraling starlight's that rained down from the strobe, illuminating her skin with slow sweeping colours that shimmered with a glance of gold that seemed to touch her, lick her, as her hips swung back and forth and side to side with the cold pole brushing against her back, sending waves after waves of shivers thought her body. The rest of the club sink into darkness, though she could feel the burning eyes that lingered below her, all filled with lust and desire. All which damned the need to touch her.
It was like this every night. Kisses was the place to be - if you were a men - beautiful woman lingered at every corner, wearing nearly nothing but lingerie that make them look as edible to men as candy itself - all specifically chosen by Michael, the owner, for the nights entertainment.
Terra, however, provided the grand show each night, nearly naked and beautiful, her body swayed with the erotic pulse of dirty slow music, her movement slow and tempting as another piece of clothing was thrown from her body to reveal her tan skin of cinnamon and honey. Every movement she made felt as though in a trance of ecstasy and torture, a feeling she gave all the men that watched her. She drove their desire over the edge to ecstasy with her body, despite them knowing they could not have her, kiss her, touch her, nor get real pleasure from her, which was torture all on its own.
Terra Hollis.
A stripper she was indeed, consumed by the back streets of the coldest and hardest city in the world, New York. Down town where the low lives and come fucks called home... Where she called home.
Slowly the music stopped, the lights that lit up before her want dead and the sound of her own heavy breathing was the only thing she could hear. However, that was soon replaced with an applause, whispering and stocking of dicks because Michael sucked in the spot light.
'Wasn't she just so motherfucking tempting, you all just want to Fuck her hard don't you... Tear her pussy up...'
Terra rolled her eyes, a habit of her whenever Michael opened his mouth to speak, let alone yarn. The moment he grow some balls, she thought, finding herself grinning, she vowed to kick them so hard, he will never use them again.
'T?' a feminist voice called out at the far end of the run way stage.
Terra turned her head slowly to that direction, Milla, her friend approached her. Her eyes fixed on Terra as one of her hands planted on her hip. She was stunning, with pink ribbons of hair that touched her shoulders, her eyes hazel, and her lips full, her body was as mouthwatering as men put it, all the woman in Kisses were, as Michael always bragged, he had a good test in beautiful woman, and as much as she hatred to admit. He did.
'Shows over. Time to get changed and hit the road. Or are you going to the back?' She ached her brow. 'Considering getting an extra payment tonight?'
Terra didn't bother to answer, she has noticed someone, a men she thought had been following her the past few weeks. As soon as the colorful lights lit up the club, and Terra disappeared behind the certain of red velvet, she got a glance of him. Slowly she opened the certain, just enough to peep through before her eyes fell on the men, who eyes froze on the stage despite the show being over.
Unlike the rest of the dash bags and men whores, including the one who stack of liquor and cigarettes. He stood out, completely without a doubt. Although doubt washed over her as much as she glanced at the sun doing day break. This men for some reason make her feel like a jewel, an untouched jam that was as precious to the world and the self-pity she gave herself each and every day.
Dread. Self-hate. Despair. Depression.
Those were the feeling she also carried, that ran her life, that were close to home to linger with every bottle of pills the doctor or pharmacist could provide, at every corner of her apartment.
