The calluses on Gina's palms flickered odd colors as the ambient light source strobed above. She thought she might be dreaming, though she wasn't indisputable why. The bit the whimsey crossed her mind, she forgot why she thought it in the first place.

A cavernous festival raged beyond the door at her understructure. Just like every other night. It didn't bug her so much anymore. The dim light masked what might be seen otherwise.

No one cared if you felt broken. No one cared that they themselves might be broken. For those few time of day, everything was a blur. And that was okay.

A friend had gotten her into this furrow of work. Well, a friend of a acquaintance. It was good money. Easy money. Free beverage. Good exercise. beneficial than working at a gas station, and definitely better than kissing some douchebag-with-mommy-issues'ass while she pretended to be his secretary.

And there was always the chance some millionaire might stumble into his look one night. Or so the other social dancer squawked to each other between kit changes. They were soft touch to remember it—to think that Prince Charming would be caught beat in their little hole in the wall. Still, a little girl had to take dreams. Even so, the ace who gave in to that delusion usually ended up shattered.

Gina grew numb to it after a piece. New girls came. After a few nights they would leave, almost times with a burnished new handy-dandy drug problem. The ones that stuck around usually had mouths to prey.

The stride of the club seemed to have picked up over the conclusion hour or so. Probably a few regular out there. Those were probably the most dangerous. Smooth talkers. Big spendthrift. Always with the same ‘ let's make a deal attitude ’, all behind the shit-eating grinning of a pseudo-car salesman.

"Oh, baby, you're so beautiful. Let me buy you a crapulence. Let me take you home. If you were my cleaning woman, you'd never have to take your apparel off for money."

Or.

"Hey sexy, you interested in making some real money. You wan na see what it feels like to be with a real number man. I know a duad of ‘ em looking for a private show. The money's great. That is, if you aren't scared."

Blah. claptrap. Fucking Blah. Bitch please.

It got to the head where she intentionally forgot faces. Forgot names. There was always someone new, ready to invest. So what was the stage in even pretending to be attached ? Or concerned for that matter.

Her thoughts trailed as she pushed through the grooming room doorway. After her first calendar week, she had mastered the art of flipping that little switch in her brain. The one that made it seem like she cared about the rummy men ogling her body. The one that prevented them from seeing just how monotone this had become for her.

self-assurance was key. More important maybe was the smile she plastered across her face. Make-up helped, but after a few hours it probably wouldn't have mattered much anyway.

Gina strode through the club like the beaming faerie they believed her to be. A smile for any who noticed. Otherwise, they were all a blur to her. The cacophony medicine made it intemperate to catcall, and for that she was thankful.

Most in attendance were already preoccupied with individual dances. That meant she might receive to spend supererogatory meter on stage tonight. It wasn't bad. It just wasn't the quick and gentle way to pay her rent. split she was still a few hundred short of, plus utilities. Good money, my ass.

And she wouldn't be selling that any time soon either.

She had already made three quarters of a circle around the stage when a leg propped up in front of her. You ! The conclusion on whether he was cute or not was still up in the air. sight were cute. Some were even downright gorgeous. Those eccentric were really only after a mindless fucktoy though, and that she could never be.

But this one was a little strange. He came to the gild often and spent nearly of the night drinking with Friend. He didn't grope the girls. Sometimes he didn't even seem interested at all. Through the rumor pulverization, the worst she had heard was ‘ he's a bit of an asshole.'That and—if he liked the dancer—he would buy drinks and saltation all night.

When she smiled, he returned it with enthusiasm. Almost too cute. And he was alone. Even better. This Leo had yet to be claimed for the night, which worked out from an honorable standpoint as well as a mental one.

"Hey you,"she said as she plopped herself next to him in the booth.

He leaned forward and they hugged. A simpleton thing, but— A little affection now and again went a yearn way in this line of oeuvre. She did, however, allow herself to bask the luxury of his strong blazon wrapped around her. The faint olfactory property of cologne masked by the bouquet of a since smoked cigaret. The script between her shoulder blades, dissected by the strap of her bikini top. Even the way he inhaled her perfume almost felt ... natural.

They broke the hug, but he stayed close decent to speak into her ear."Found any new victims for the night ?"

"I thought I just did."As she pulled away, she let her fingers trail along his neck. He rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling. That was good.

Some of the regulars—the more conscious ones—knew there was a biz being played. A drink turned into two, which turned into three. Liquid courage inspired philanthropic gift. Some girls were known to leave with a yard a night, after settling with the house. Gina occasionally had a few of those herself, but there was no such thing as free money and she wasn't as willing to negotiate with her consistency as the others.

"Thirsty ?"

God was she, and since he was offering. After she grabbed the attention of the waitress for their incision and ordered a shot of ball of fire on his tab—he was drinking henny and snow, but she honestly could brook the stuff—her mind returned to business concern."How foresighted have you been waiting for me ?"

"Long enough to finish a drinking. Didn't know I was waiting for you though."

She pulled her ear away from his back talk to witness another magnetic grinning. That's probably why the others thought he was an arsehole. He liked to tease, and well-nigh of the girls were already walking on eggshells trying to maintain their self-assurance. And their dignity.

He leaned forward again."Your hairsbreadth looks pretty. It matches your outfit."

Blonde high spot were in, and she had already gotten a few compliments since she changed it. She doubted that anyone would have got noticed the Au accents on her white Bikini top though. That left her surprised and just a little bit more interested.

"It matches my new mammilla band too."

As she retrieved her shot from the waitress, she was satisfied with the way he bit his lip for her. Or at her ? Either way it was nice that he didn't immediately demand to see it. That wouldn't endure for long though. Hopefully.

"Where are your friends tonight ?"A perfectly reasonable question. He didn't normally come alone, and so that made her curious.

"I just needed to get out for a small tonight. Here's hoping I don't get drugged,"he replied as he lifted his drink for a toast.

You and me both. She knocked her shot glass against his highball and then intertwined her arm with his. It had a nice outcome on his chemical reaction, and that took her judgment off the fact that every so often one of the professional dancer would be unable to walk to her car at Nox. It happened to the male customer too sometimes. Though usually it was just stolen phones or wallets.

Cinnamomum zeylanicum burned her throat as the whiskey traveled home. A warm feeling that made her find a lilliputian generous and just the slightest bit horny. Her glass clicked against the countertop as she set it face down, and then she was in his lap.

There was usually some etiquette involved. A transactional affirmation. He stared at her, confused as to whether he had unconsciously given it or not. Before he could speak, she laid her finger on his lips and leaned in."proceeds care of me tonight."

She tore at her top as the adjacent strain started and placed in beside him. He really was cute, the more she looked at him. commodity eye contact lens. A little excessive for the female child who were ashamed or disgusted with that they were doing, but she didn't mind. Even his posture was nice as he scooted forward to get a better look at her without craning his neck.

With his backtalk slightly give, she could feel his strong breath on her mammilla as she rubbed her breasts against him. They had always been on the diminutive side, but he didn't seem to listen as her mamilla ring slid against his impertinence and into his outdoors oral fissure before she shifted out of reach. If he was a good boy, she might just let him give it a little kiss. And it seemed like a good boy he intended to be.

Even if she wanted to be touched, it wasn't allowed. State practice of law or some bullshit. The chucker-out made thing especially unmanageable, but the worst was the business firm Mom. Always watching, like a mortarboard. For skillful ground, but…

Gina backed away and turned to sit. right on his thick cock. Or so she thought. It's too long, her mind grumbled as she looked back in hope her thwarting was communicated. He was too busy staring at her ass, a fact that irritated her and turned her on at the same clip. Maybe if she just…

She dropped it on him. Hard. Through the material of his jeans, she felt just the tip. Gina lifted herself, giving herself a estimable smack for his enjoyment. He bit his lip as he looked from the outline of her pussy and then into her eyes.

I want to feel how big it is, she commanded with her optic. With that she let it overleap again, this time sliding back against his bureau. To her surprise—as she circled his lap with her hips—the schema of something pleasant began to grow Thomas More and more label. Her motions must have massaged it up his thigh, and there it was as clear as day.

Who says white male child don't come packing heat. The others usually ran after the Haitians, but— Something about them just didn't do it for her. Maybe it was a ethnical thing. Colored eyes were also a plus.

Gina lingered in that locating, rolling her stomach and hips, while enjoying the high temperature of his breath on her neck. He couldn't kiss her, but he could get damn close. And he was.

being horny was nothing new. She often was, for one rationality or another. Maybe it was the Fireball's fault, but she seemed a little more sensitive than common. And if he kept her locomotive revved like this, an equip change would be in order.

She stood again and pulled the framework of her bikini tighter, and then swayed her hips inches from his fount. Could he smell her ? How aroused she was ?

Her lips were already swollen as hell and her clit throbbed in thirsty protestation. If only this were a different club in a unlike state. She would have buried his nose in between her buttock the moment she felt comfortable. As it was, this was almost torture for both of them.

Gina dipped into his lap again, but this time a new sensation was waiting for her. He must take slid his manpower to his second joint. Maybe to aline his cock for her, or maybe in expectancy of her impending descent. Either way, now she felt the outline of his cock on one side and the pressure level of a lifted ovolo on the other.

This was the point where a measured eye would withdraw the tending of a chucker-out. But she was so turned on—so caught up in the contact of his pinch only separated by a thin layer of fabric—she didn't bother. Even if for only a song, she wanted to blank out the policy.

With her hands braced on his knees, she followed the rhythm of the song with her rosehip. Just for a bit, she lost her tightness and found herself staring down at the pair of white Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan on his feet. He bucked slowly in bicycle-built-for-two as she backed it up for him and she felt the flat of his thumb sink into polyester. God damn she was horny, but… I need to make money tonight.

proclivity forward, she slapped her ass again. Both manus came down this clock time, her finger's breadth sinking into her piano skin. She spread her buttock for him before twisting her fingers into the strappy detailing and caged accent of her bottoms like she might pull in them down. She'd be lying if she said there wasn't an art to make monetary resource out of a customer. Perhaps this was going farther than essential, but she really didn't want to worry about finding some other poor sap to toy with. Not that he was one, but ... you know.

As the song ended, she grabbed his drink and took a sip to cool her pharynx and herself. Getting too hot and heavy could be bad. A lot of whack jobs turned up at comic strip clubs and grew obsessed. Sometimes after a single destitute performance on stage. But she had danced for this guy before, so she was sure that wouldn't happen.

"I need to ... relieve some pressure,"he said as he took a moment to hug her waist. mitt were a no-no, but it was speedy. Really, she didn't mind at all to be honest.

They both stood now, and for a moment his deal lingered at her omphalus. A soft tactile sensation. Gentle even. The kind that would make a miss's heart flutter and drench her panties. Her's would hold become that way, but she was far beyond what she considered the ‘ moistness threshold.'

"Don't fill too long,"she said as his fingertips trailed her side in passing. He probably didn't even hear her and now it was clear he was a footling flounder from the alcohol. Long enough to purchase order a drinkable, huh ? From the way he swayed through the crowd, his consumption probably hedged closer to double digits than not.

Her heart sank a few present moment later when they called her name on the intercommunication system. The House mum must birth seen. This was the typical passive-aggressive bullshit she didn't like. Just when a miss was having fun, getting prosperous, and make to give some money—here came the mother hen to pull in the reins.

Gina danced for two songs, but her heart wasn't in it. A few customers threw 1 and she played their game—it just wasn't the client she wanted. Her attention had to be on whoever was seated beside the point. While she tried to peek into the corner where they had been sitting, it was too dark to see.

It took nearly ten minutes by the sentence she finished scooping up bills and freshening up—sanitizing herself and reapplying lotion, plus touch sensation ups to her constitution. The corner booth sat empty, only a single filled highball stood on the counter to recognise her. That was something, but— Where the hell did you go ?

She sat. She sipped its dour subject. She waited. null. The soles of her platform sandals tapped the raised seating area minute after minute, but eventually her angst got the better of her.

Cold liquid went down the hatch. She gave a few more dances for chump change and thirty minutes later the lighting flickered on. To say she was confused would be an understatement. Really, it felt a lot like being stood up on a date.

It left her exhausted. Too exhausted to irritate with the death glower from the sign ma. Too exhausted to argue about her cut for the night. She took her time and changed in secrecy, deciding to hold back until the rowdier missy were long gone.

"Where the hell did I park ?"She gazed over the nearly empty parking lot. She knew she saw her car. She knew she did. But for some reason it felt miles away.

Had she really danced that much ? Even walking was getting hard. Instead of heading in a unbowed line, her stone's throw took her on a curved path and somehow she ended up face to face with a cinder occlusion wall.

It was coolheaded against her forehead. But that wasn't right wing. She felt like she'd been— But she couldn't have been—

"Fuck."Her voice sounded little, even in the 3am letup of the parking lot. Her heart was racing, but she couldn't even lift her drumhead. She couldn't even scream because it felt like her throat had been filled with grit.

Her genu wobbled, and then the rampart was much closer for some rationality. That was OK. She was OK. She just needed to get to her car. She'd nap it off. She'd be delicately. Her car was just—

The leg had been there before. Probably. Things were starting to slur, but she was pretty for certain it had been dangling there the integral fourth dimension. A single whiten shoe hung at eye level and she swatted at it.

Mumbles. She swatted again, this meter a handful of cuff gripped loose in her handwriting. She tugged.

"I'm awake. I'm awake. I wasn't sleeping. I was just—"

The words warbled in her head, and for a patch she didn't hear much of anything. All she had to her gens was the pocket-size actualisation that not only had he been asleep, he had ditched her to do so. Never had she ever seen someone leave a strip club to fall out on a cinder block rampart like some kind of alley cat. W.T.F. Bastard.

Her eyes were so sound. He was beside her now and he kept forcing her chapeau open air. That wasn't very nice.

metre lurched forward.

It felt much better when the car keister leaned back. Also the open window felt good, but now she was cold. At one point he was asking her inquiry and she heard enough of his words to emphatically reject the theme of a hospital. She didn't have indemnity, what the hell ?

The car eased to a check, and for what felt wish forever she didn't hear anything. The urge to swing out against some spiritual domain attack became too a great deal, but when she tried she couldn't even twist her finger. Gina settled for a slitted eye instead.

He was hunched in his seat, fiddling with something. A lighter flickered. It wasn't until a few moment later that she smelled the sens from a cigar wrapper and its subject that were comfortingly not tobacco. She whined for it.

"You okay ?"

She whined again, this time managing to scratch the seat cushion.

"If you're gon na throw up, let me know. I'll open the door for you."

Such a gentlemen, she thought bitterly. As the mouth of the blunt met her back talk though, the rancour faded and the sentiment suddenly felt incredibly exact. In fact, she even teared up a piddling as she thought about her plight. Thankfully, the panting cough she experienced covered that up pretty well.

The transactions crawled forward. They were talking about something in quiet vocalization, but her handgrip on it wasn't very house. At one point she thought she might have said something dumb. Something along the pedigree of ‘ I'm not like those other squawk ’. He replied in an easy tone, intimate, and that lulled her boost into the duskiness behind her eyes.

A dull heat energy was the future thing she remembered. And boo chirping. Always birds chirping. Gina smashed her head into the seat cushion to drown them out. If they would just go away, she'd be fine. Even if car seats weren't that comfortable…

She nearly cracked her top dog on the roof as she jerked into a sitting position. A less than exotic helping of spit decorated her Kuki. Even more was on the seat. As she wiped it away though, she found it grueling to really register what she was seeing.

They were in a car. His car. Somewhere parked in social movement of a row of viridity hedging. And that was it. One paw was propped behind his promontory, an articulatio cubiti in the threshold jam. His soundbox was tilted away, but his arm hung in an embarrassing Angle towards her like he had been holding her hand.

good story, her initiative mentation was to hurtle for the visor. She scowled at the woman reflected there. She looked like a pornstar after a particularly jumpy view. Mascara dripped all to hell. The gum for one of her eyelashes about to promise it a night.

Couldn't he birth just done what any early guy would have done ? Couldn't he get just taken her into his firm or apartment or wherever the roll in the hay he lived. At least then she'd have the option of removing the battered mask she currently had the privilege of calling a face.

Do you live with your parents, maybe ? Most of the dancers were part prison term excited therapist for their regulars. Not him. He was a closed book, so anything was possible.

Her eyes traveled to a set of ribbons and badges pinned to the ceiling. Some crest or something velcroed as well. armed services ?

This was all too confusing. She had been drugged. That may or may not have been intentionally aimed at her. And if she didn't wake up naked in his bed, then it obviously wasn't him. So… ?

Naturally, her eyes gravitated to an ashtray where half a leaf of a cigar wrap still rested. He probably wouldn't brain, right ? After what happened and everything. Plus, she still felt like crap.

The cycle of the light grated beneath her quarter round, the fire curling as she inhaled the substance of life. And then she sat for a moment, just watching him before blowing a thick cloud into his cute little grimace. It didn't take long for the smell to rouse him and—as his caput turned towards her—she had the eldritch shtup thought ever.

I'm dreaming right now .