Muddy Heels: Chapter 3

As was standard protocol, we began the evening with introductions. The first few months of my employment I hated this part; I felt awkward on stage and never got the kind of applause the other girls basked in. I'm actually quite surprised I didn't get fired. I was a pretty awful dancer at first; I suspect Mia had something to do with my continuous employment. By four months as a dancer, though, I had improved significantly. I was now one of the top three dancers and Randy knew it (I enjoyed rubbing that in his face at every opportunity). So naturally, I loved introductions now. 

"And now, let's meet one of your top dolls, the sexy and ravishing Nevaeh!" 

I know, I know, it doesn't get any cheesier than "heaven" spelled backwards. But hey, it was original, and I'm quite certain it earned me an extra $200 a night. 

I mean, what man doesn't secretly hope there are strip teases in heaven??

I sauntered out on stage, starting at the pole with a Frodo, then sliding into an Extended Frodo. It was my signature move, typically worth a few whoops and screams; this night was no exception. I finished by executing an erotic waist bend and running my finger up my leg. With a dramatic flip of my hair, I crossed my hands across my chest and then down my hips as I swayed off to the side of the stage. Mia was always after me - she was by far the most popular. As she took her spot, every man in the room sitting forward in their seats, their eyes glued, I relaxed for a moment, leaning my hand against the wall. As much as I enjoyed the spotlight, the darker edges of the stage were a relief when a break was due. 

But it appeared not every man in the room was watching Mia. There was one man, scrunched in the corner of a dark booth towards the back of the crowd, who appeared to be looking at ... Me? 

"Ellie, I think someone likes you." One of the girls had joined my side, nodding toward the same man whose eyes were peaking out from below his baseball cap. I couldn't see much other than those eyes - his face was cleverly shrouded by the hat and most of his body was shaded by the dark room. But I couldn't stop staring back at him. There was something about those eyes. Was it the desire in them? The fact that they were fixated on me while our star player was lighting up the stage? Were they just incredibly gorgeous eyes? I wasn't sure, but they had an effect on my entire body that sent chills from the very tips of the hairs on my head all the way down to my toes. 

His hand reached briefly into the light to grasp his beer. 

Oh God, not the hands.

Hands were like a mating call to me. Every man I ever slept with had amazing hands. And this mysterious stranger stroked his beer gently with long and confident fingers, tendons and veins asserting themselves as evidence of his muscular form. 

Well, that's how I imagined it anyways. 

I shuddered unexpectedly - oops, better be careful, I was still on stage. I looked around to verify that there was no one else watching me. Nope. With Mia in the spotlight, I was on my own. My eyes wandered back to his where I detected the evidence of a smile.

Was he teasing me? 

"Ellie, snap out of it!" It was Mia. Time to get back on stage for the group number. 

Oh, I'm ready. 

Deep heavy metal music piped through the speakers and the lights dimmed. The deep and heavy drums pummeled a hypnotic beat as I sashayed out there with the confidence of a woman who just eye-fucked Jamie Dornan. I threw myself into the dance, those deep and probing eyes haunting my subconscious. Whoever he was, he was watching, and I was going to give him one hell of a show. Each dancer split off two-by-two. I was with Candy (I know, every strip club has to have one, right?) and I pulled her close, grinding into her, one of my hands pulling at her hair, the other sliding serendipitously down my side, across my flat belly, and softly onto the ties hanging at her hip. She threw her head back at my touch and I followed her lead, leaning my face in near her breasts and licking my lips sensually. 

The men (and a few women, actually) went wild. A proud smile lit up on Candy's face - she was fairly new and had not received this kind of response before. 

Oh, we're not done yet, honey. Wait until you see what I have in store for you. 

In coordination with the routine, we stood back-to-back, rolling to the floor, then grasping hands in desparation, slowly rising back up to stand. I turned to face her back, swept her hair behind her neck, and breathed softly on her skin. My hands grasped the front of her hips and we pulsated backwards in circles to the music, the other girls in perfect time with us. I traced her skin slowly and carnally with my fingers until I reached the clasp of her top. I pulled at the strings, sending her cover spiraling to the ground, her engorged breasts shining in the spotlight to hoops and hollers from our heated patrons. I was ad-libbing a little; it was encouraged for this routine and a couple of the girls followed my example (much to the pleasure of our audience). 

We returned back-to-back, completing a lascivious body roll. My hands creeped up towards my neck, a look of coy innocence on my face, and I unhooked my own top which fell to my waste. 

I swear I could smell the cum emanating from the anxious spectators. 

I reached behind my back to release my top. One more intense body roll and we turned to face each other again. I stole a glimpse into the crowd, hoping to catch sight of my secret admirer, but I couldn't see past the floodlights.

God, I hope he's still there, I thought.

This was all for his benefit and I didn't wish it to be for nought. I imagined those haunting eyes burrowing into me with seething pleasure. I pictured him hard and squirming, barely able to hold himself back from running up here to throw me against the wall and ravish me. 

I ground even deeper into Candy than I had before. She responded in kind, our nipples dancing against each other, stimulating us to explore each other with even greater fervor. 

I loved the idea that he might be watching us. I could feel my own wetness peaking and I was dying to slip my fingers beneath the fabric of my panties to satisfy my ache. Instead I continued the libidinous molestation of my willing partner, the cheers of the crowd barely audible to my ears while the thump of my rapidly pumping blood took over all sensations. The dance finished and we sauntered off-stage, the girls all smiles over the incredible response from a very enthusiastic crowd. I immediately stole into the dressing room, locking the door and flattening against the wall, my fingers stealing straight for my burning and aching clitoris. I began my assault with deep circular motions, the intensity rising quickly with images of me straddled across my new lover while his tongue and lips sucked and pinched my nipples. 

I came hard, the fingers of my other hand sliding in and out of me with reckless abandon. It took every measure of self-control to avoid crying out - not that it mattered. It wasn't unusual for us ladies to satisfy our needs back here; sometimes together, sometimes alone. But I wanted this moment to be private. I didn't want anyone else to see my vulnerability. I sank to the floor, endorphins racing, satisfaction achieved at long-last. I closed my eyes and considered falling asleep in that very spot. But I resisted; lap dances were next in the menu and I was likely to be in high demand after that steamy number. 

Would he request a lap dance? Suddenly my energy returned and I rushed back out to the platform with a hopeful heart.