isabella [h.s.]

thirty three

**Touch me, yeah
I want you to touch me there,
make me feel like I am breathing,
feel like I am human**

ISABELLA

Just as I expected, strip clubs in Atlantic City promise a rather extraordinary night. As soon as I walked into the dressing room, the girls here were all super welcoming and they all seem to get on well, even sharing clothes and shoes and wigs, which is the complete opposite to the girls at my club who act like we have to be in constant competition with each other. The club itself is bigger than Ecstasy, with four different stages instead of three, so more value is placed on the girls dancing rather than us having to walk around the customers, tempting them into a private room, which is only a bonus to me.

Thankfully, I haven't done any private rooms tonight, not due to a lack of interest because almost every customer I've walked past has been eyeing me hungrily, but mostly because I don't really want to. I'm not mad at the stares though, because even I must admit that I look pretty fucking hot tonight. My outfit is definitely one of my more risqué choices, mostly due to the fact that the only thing covering my body is thin diamanté fringe, the jewels draped over the entirety of my body, the spaces between offering large glimpses of bare skin. It definitely doesn't leave much to the imagination, and if you looked closely enough you could probably see my nipples, but it makes my boobs look great so I don't mind much. The outfit swings with every step I take, the diamonds catching and glinting under the lights, eliciting a sheen glow which I'm sure is what initially brings eyes to my direction. At first, I was slightly concerned that this outfit may be too much, especially for a club I've never worked at before, but once I realised that some of the girls can go topless here, I assumed it'd be fine.

Maybe because this is a new environment for me or because this isn't my actual workplace, but I strangely feel more alive tonight. The atmosphere in the club is electric, palpable, the shadows of women's bodies twisting around the poles under the iridescent lights and their hips swinging on the laps of men only adding to the already highly erotic mood. The sensual music helps too, feminine gasps or masculine drawls talking about what they want to do in the dark thumping out from the speakers and sparking through my veins, creating a flurry of excitement in the pit of my stomach that I don't usually feel while at work. I'm sure I could sugarcoat it, use some flowery metaphors to describe the racing of my heart and the prickling of my skin, but the simple fact of the matter is that I'm horny. And as luck would have it, just as this thought is crossing my mind, my eyes land on a man who could help me do something about it.

He's typing something on his phone, his face lit up by the screen, but when his eyes flicker upwards to meet mine, his typing stops and his jaw falls open slightly, his eyes widening in surprise. I feel a mix of amusement and giddiness as he takes it all in, intently watching the way his gaze travels down my chest, my midriff, my thighs, every inch of my skin that he notices only seeming to have more of an effect on him. With a smile pulling at my lips, I begin to make my way towards him, my hips and my ass swinging as I walk, the strings of diamonds on my outfit accompanying my every step. His eyes stay stuck on me the entire time, the way he's looking at me utterly addicting, like some kind of drug rushing through my veins that I can't get enough of.

When I'm only a few feet away from him he seems to snap back, clearing his throat and locking his phone. "Oh, hey," he greets me. "I thought I'd run into you here."

I just smile, tilting my head to the side. "Well, I was here first," I remind him sweetly. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, um, well, the witness I wanted to question...." he trails off, too distracted by staring at me to provide me with a coherent answer. I bite down on my bottom lip in at attempt to fight off my smile, enjoying his attention way too much to stop it. He eventually manages to tear his gaze away and his eyes meet mine again, although it looks like it's taking him a lot of effort to keep them there. "Uh, he would only answer my questions if I brought him here, so that's, um, that's why I'm here. He's over there, at that table."