Chapter 11 #2
Denise: You can go out for one night or she got yo ass locked down since she’s now found time for ya
I stared at the message. That was fucking uncalled for.
Tanisha chimed in.
Tanisha: She wants to be there with her wife. She’s hurt. It’s what normal people do in relationships D
Another eye roll emoji.
Denise: I need some single friends
I thought about responding, but I didn’t and instead left her on read and tossed my phone back onto the chair. Returning my
attention back to the room, I surveyed my handiwork. Not that much had to be done, since my play parlor stayed fairly untouched.
I only came in when I wanted to do a little dancing, or when I wanted to give Court a special treat, like today.
When we first bought the place, we both thought the downstairs room was a joke as an actual fourth bedroom, and Courtney had
no issue letting me claim it as a space to put my pole.
I started dancing as a way to get back at my parents, to embarrass them—because all they’d cared about was image. They’d gotten
fed up with me after I’d changed my major for the sixth time in three years and were tired of my “lack of direction and drive
in life.” I had to learn to support myself when they would no longer do so because I’d been coddled too much.
I’d never worked a day in my life, but of all the extracurriculars they’d put me in during my childhood, dance was the one
I’d enjoyed the most—though I’d stopped because they’d missed more performances than they’d attended—so it’d seemed like a
no-brainer when I walked through the doors of the first club. It was already a win-win, earn money and stick it to my parents,
but it actually ended up being the place I felt most at home. The place I really felt like I became me. The rush of performing
for a crowd that chanted your name. Having all the attention focused on me. Men and women alike surrounding the stage, making
it rain because they were enthralled with me.
Damn, I’d loved that feeling.
And I had especially loved my time at The Candy Shop.
Not only was it a Black woman-owned club, but Viv used to work the pole.
She took all her years at various other clubs, weeded out what was good and what wasn’t, to make it a place that was focused on the dancers’ safety and comfort while also giving the patrons what they wanted. I’d loved it there.
But I gave it up for Courtney.
However, having this space so I could still dance when I wanted gave me some solace, even if it was only for an audience of
one.
She was my favorite voyeur, so I didn’t mind.
Putting on shows for her scratched the itch when the call for the stage got a little loud, and she was always extra appreciative.
That was a definite bonus to being her private dancer.
She’d been in a better mood since breakfast, and I wanted to hold on to that feeling. And luckily, preparing for the show
wasn’t met with any interference from Courtney since she and Vuitton had made up, after he let her know he was sorry for what
happened. Normally he stayed up under me, following me around everywhere, but he’d wanted to be by her side, which we were
both confused by. When he rolled onto his back to ask for belly rubs, I knew he was trying to make nice. After that, they
even took a nap on the couch together, which was super cute, and I couldn’t help but snap a couple of pictures. It also afforded
me the time to get things set.
I still had all my old costumes from my dancing days.
It was unfortunate I didn’t have some sort of sexy nurse getup, but I had found something that worked well enough.
It was a red two-piece set. The bikini-like top had rose-shaped cups that were barely bigger than pasties and covered with rhinestones that caught the light when I moved.
The bottoms were a sheer shimmering boy short panty—mostly since the goodies were covered with an opaque fabric topped with matching rhinestones.
I turned to view myself in the mirror again. Damn, my ass looked good.
I did a little twerk to see it jiggle. “Yeah . . . baby’s gonna like me in this.”
Feeling good about myself and my plan, I shrugged on one of my satin robes and headed out the room. I wanted to get back to
who we really were when all the other noise didn’t get in the way.
“Hey, Court,” I yelled from the bottom of the stairs.
“What up?” she hollered back.
“Can you come here for a minute?”
“Whatcha need? Something off the top shelf?” She wore a large grin when she came into view at the top of the stairs.
“Oh, you got jokes. You ain’t that much taller than me.”
She laughed as she looked down at me. “You right, when you have on your heels, I only got you by an inch or five.” Slowly,
she tilted her head. “Baby, whatcha got on?”
“Bring your too-tall ass down here and find out.”
She licked her lips as she started down the steps. “Whatcha been up to down here?”
I backed up as she approached me until I hit the wall. She stood close, but didn’t touch me. But she didn’t have to. From
the first night she came to the club, her stare had been enough to give me goose bumps, a racing heartbeat, and a wet pussy.
She leaned in, crowding my space. Her dark eyes locked onto mine briefly before they lowered. From that angle she could easily
see between the folds of my robe. I didn’t move as she gently ran a finger across my collarbone until she hit the silky fabric,
dragging it to the side to make the gap bigger.
“What we got here?”
I pulled the corner of my bottom lip between my teeth and wrapped my fingers around her wrist. “Come with me and find out.”