Cameron Diaz eyes intense on the few men at the rail. Cameron Diaz lips pouting and slightly parted. A heart-shaped face infused with natural beauty. An hourglass shape tightly wrapped in a modified Springsteen tee and a pair of raggedy cut-off jean shorts. Bought-and-paid-for breasts strained against the worn material. A flat stomach balanced round hips and ass.
She grabbed the pole in both hands and pivoted to a downbeat. Honey colored hair grazed her shoulders. Bittersweet melodies wrapped around the air, and she mouthed the words while her eyes glistened as if they were about to well over. She hugged herself, rubbing her upper arms and pushing her cleavage into a vertical smile, then fell to her knees and arched back onto the stage.
“You got a couple of empties over there, Jo.” The manager’s voice smacked me in the back of the head. I grabbed my tray and change for a twenty, and hit the floor.
By now there were men standing at the end of the stage, bills in hands or bills in mouths, leaning against the padded railing, just waiting for Crystal to strut their way.
Testosterone and arousal electrified the air. With a Betty Boop expression, Crystal slithered over. She grasped the front of her shirt with both hands and ripped it apart in one fluid motion.
Her liberated breasts should have bounced free, but they were solid, the skin stretched tight from implants. The men didn’t seem to mind. They roared when she snagged the hat off one man’s head and stretched it over her left tit. She wiggled it on, then raised her hands and bounced on the balls of her feet. As the music ended, she replaced the man’s hat, wrapped her arms around his head and shoved his face into glittery cleavage. She pushed him off after and strutted back to the pole for the next song.
Within no time, we were packed to the rafters. I ran my ass off to keep up, but my tip jar was overflowing for my troubles.
“Is it really Sunday night?” I screamed to Sarah, the bartender, while she tipped more bottles onto my tray and tossed me my change.
Sarah shook her head and threw her hands up in the air. She rushed to the opposite end of the bar and pulled fresh drinks as if her daddy were an octopus. Her shirt clung to her back, and she stopped for a heartbeat in front of the little plastic fan propped next to the register.
A hand on my ass got me moving again, and I hoisted my tray above my head and wove and shimmied through the crowd. Customers were three deep at the bar, and I made a circuit along the perimeter to catch the guys waiting to place an order. They
I took my break during Tash’s set. Sparks were virtually flying off her as she spun and bent, swayed and beckoned. Everyone could feel the competition, so thick in the air.
Tash looked like a predator, her eyes set hard, dressed in her favorite gown-glittering, slinky and skin tight.
This was what they wanted-Anastasia in all her glory. She shimmied up the pole and crossed her legs, to sit primly as if there were actually a chair beneath her. Fluid and sensual, she arched her back and extended her arms. She slid down the pole with her feet clasped around the top and her hands clasped around the bottom. Halfway down, she flipped, landing on her feet near the front of the stage.
She stood, arms crossed, and dared the customers to come to the stage so she could lean into them, let them hold their money between their teeth and drop it into her extended g-string.
A nod from the manager told me it was time to get moving again. I stubbed out my cigarette and went back to making the rounds.
The rest of the night went by in a blur, the dancers coming out and talking and drinking with the customers, but me too busy to notice. Before I knew it, I was wiping the last layer of sticky beer off the last table, while the bouncers followed behind, stacking and tipping the chairs.
I plunked onto the last stool at the end of the bar and dumped my tips onto the counter. Straightening and sorting, I shook my head at the unexpected windfall. Just as I was thinking of going for breakfast, if Tash wasn’t too exhausted, I heard her laughter.
She came flouncing down the stairs and I figured the odds were in my favor. I turned to speak and stopped, my mouth hanging open. Tash and Crystal were together. They were giggling and heading my way.
“Hey, Joey, me and Crys are going for breakfast. Grab my bag, will ya? The keys are in the outside pocket. See ya at the house!” She pivoted and followed Crystal, who was already headed for the door.
“Now there’s an old story,” Sarah said behind me. I swiveled on my stool and watched her slide up onto the beer coolers. She dumped her tips in a pile next to mine, swung one leg under the other and began sorting her money. “You know about all that, don’t you?”
I shrugged. “Nah. I’ve heard things, but nothing worth repeating.”
“Well, I think it’s shitty that Tash is treating you this way. And what’s even shittier is that you’re not the first. She had another roommate,” Sarah gestured the quotation marks, “before Crystal, too.”
I lit a cigarette and leaned my arms on the padded edge of the bar. “We are just roommates, you know.” I blew a cloud of smoke towards the floor. “Well, friends, too.
Close friends.”
She regarded me for a moment, then shook her head. “Yeah, well, that may be how
And it’s starting to happen. Mark my words.”
I grabbed my tips and moved around the bar to exchange my coins and small bills.
“Yeah, I hear ya. Thanks.” I threw the bank bag onto the coolers and rushed past Sarah so she wouldn’t see my chin quivering. “I’m beat. See ya tomorrow.”
“Just look at your options, Jo!” she yelled at my back.
I pushed past Jerry, who’d stayed on to help out with the unexpected rush, and took the stairs to the dressing room two at a time. On my way back down, I avoided his gaze, heading straight for the back door with my head down. Jerry fell in behind and escorted me to the car.
“Joey, hang on, will ya?” He turned me around with a hand on my shoulder.
I leaned back against the car and crossed my arms. “What, Jerry? I know! Watch my back, right? I got it.”
“Nah, Joey.” He dropped his hand, but his gaze clung to me. “I just want to let you know I’ve got a spare room at my place.” I opened my mouth to snap at him, but he held his hands up. “I’m not sayin’ nothin’, Jo. Just letting you know. You’ve got my number.
Call me if you need me. Whenever.” His gaze dropped to the gravel, but the emotion behind it still hung between us.
“Yeah, okay, Jer. Thanks.” I hugged him quickly, then sat in the car. He threw Tash’s bag in the back seat for me, shut the door and patted the roof of the car a couple times.
I backed out, waved and sped home, racing my tears. I managed to hold it together until I was on the couch with the movie we’d ordered on pay-per-view. I huddled under the blanket and let the tears fly. Everything I’d been told flashed through my mind, over and over, and I started recognizing nuances of the personality they’d described. Little things she did, things she’d said; it all fell into place. More than anything else, I was mortified that I’d fallen into the trap. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
***
I came out of a dream to a mouth on my nipple and hand wedged between my legs.
Still hazy, I started to sit up, but was shushed and pushed gently back onto the couch.
Tash hovered over me, her face just in front of mine. I smelled booze and pussy on her breath. She kissed me, deep and hard, and tears leaked from the corners of my eyes.
“Sshh, Joey. It’s okay. I’m here.” She stroked the hair away from my forehead and planted a kiss on my
