I couldn't smile. Not without the drugs. So I scowled at the men as I swayed along with the obnoxious twangy guitars and nasal woman's voice. Wasting no time, I tore off my top - just a red scrap of shimmery fabric that covered my tits and not much else. I flung it away behind me. The men calmed and sank back to their seats.
Let's get this over with. Pausing mid-stage, I let my hands roam over my breasts, cupping and lifting, offering them to the audience. Then I moved lower, caressing my flat tummy - God, have I started losing weight this fast? - before finding the hem of my sequined skirt. I wore nothing beneath it - all I had to do was roll it a little, tug it up a little, and the curls of my moundd were visible to all who cared to see.
Was it the indignity that turned me on right then? Or was it the power? The men were drooling like dumb animals. I could incite a riot if I really tried. My fingers found my folds still wet with my own arousal and with Viper's cum. I spotted Viper watching from the bar; I licked my fingers, tasting his foul seed with our eyes locked before stroking my folds again.
I felt dizzy as my blood rushed through my veins. My body begged for release - and craved the poison in Viper's pockets. I rubbed my clit and moaned. The men hooted and slid their seats closer to the stage. I leaned back against the middle pole and spread my legs, putting my wet and swollen pussy on display for all to see. Remember when you didn't want to fuck Gunner in the bar? Remember that policy? Look at you now.
The position was a real crowd-pleaser. I had everyone's attention - even the waitresses paused with full trays to watch the show. My thighs shook as I dipped my fingers inside my sopping channel, then circled my clit. My lips parted and my cheeks warmed. At least this will be fast.
I had to lower my body further still so I could place one hand on the floor for support. Deep voices shouted obscenities, suggestions, offers. Bouncers closed in, ready to start hurling bodies of it got too rowdy.
My orgasm manifested with little warning. I dropped to the hard surface of the stage, moaning and undulating with an animal lust as I plunged my fingers deep, riding the waves of my very public climax.
Shouts erupted in the audience but I didn't look up. I couldn't. There was no way I'd be able to face anyone after that. Instead I rolled onto my stomach and stood, covering my face with one arm, and rushed back offstage. I didn't even have my skirt rearranged before the manager grabbed my elbow in a bony hand. "I don't give a fuck what Viper says to you next time," she hissed, "That type of act is dangerous. That crazy fucker's gonna bring this whole place down around our ears."
I furrowed my brows. "I thought you worked for him. I was just following orders."
Her grip loosened. "Hell no we don't work for that fucking outsider." Her expression finally softened - the first time I'd seen it do so. "He's overseeing the place temporarily. Things will be a little better when he leaves. You'll see."
But I think I'm leaving with him. Oh, God... "When's that?"
She shrugged. Her angry demeanor was back as quickly as it had faded. "How the fuck would I know? A week, two? Go get your clothes back on."
A couple weeks. I stumbled back to the dressing rooms and found a pair of shorts and a t-shirt that sat in a cardboard box of clothes that someone had brought by. The only articles explicitly handed to me were the dance costumes. I dressed quickly and, finding a baseball cap and tugging it on to hide my face, I walked back out past the stage and to the bar.
But Viper was gone. "Business," one of the bartenders said.
"Did he leave me anything?"
"Not a thing."
Fuck. I was starting to sweat. What was I going to do?
"Hey. New girl. Ivy?" I bounced over to the booth, smiling shyly. The president of the club wanted to see me?
"What can I do for you?"
His handsome face took me in. He was tall, lean, and intimidating. I wouldn't want to meet this guy in a dark alley at night. He sipped a beer alone. "Where you from?"
"Connecticut."
"Far away. What brings you all the way out to the desert?"
I shrugged. "Running." It was a summary of the truth. Somehow I knew those considering eyes would see through a lie.
"Are you being chased? Anyone we need to worry about?"
"No. He gave up by Kansas."
"Good," he said, nodding. "Any drug habits? Vices? Other things we might need to know about?"
I grimaced. "No drugs. God, no. But..."
"But?"
"Collections won't stop calling me."
He laughed. The president of the motorcycle club laughed. I smiled along, unsure if this was a good or bad reaction. "We get a lot of ladies with a lot of problems passing through here, and you're the only one that led that conversation with debt." He brought his glass down to the table with a jolly slam. His eyes darkened, though his lips still twitched with amusement. "Ever been with a president, honey?"