My hair was free, blond falling all around me as I twirled and touched myself, my flesh slick with sweat. The tiny g-string barely hid my semi-swollen member, but that was part of the job description. I danced closer to the edge of the runway, allowing various men to slip money under the tight garment. As I dipped down for one particular man, who was tall, dark and broad, I winked. The man slipped a hundred-dollar bill into the band of the skimpy undergarment, and I nodded faintly.The music ended and I walked off the stage, pulling on a thin robe and sitting down to remove the makeup from my face. I was one of twelve dancers in this club, but I was what drew the men in. There was something about me, something that drew them to me and made them want to spend their money and their seed in my body. I counted my tips from the night - with the two hundred dollars my regular had slipped me, my total came to eight hundred dollars.Not bad. Fifty of it would go to the club - the house fee was a pain in my ass, but it kept the club clean and secure, so I didn't complain about it anymore.
