Michelle Long is an exotic dancer at Tits Up. With her curly brown hair, freckles, and caramel-colored skin on a 5’6” frame, she’s a hot little number, and a favorite with the regulars.
She grew up knowing who she was and what she liked. Her dance instructor, Ms. Prim, introduced her to the hidden joys of sex the summer before college, and she never looked back. After graduation, Michelle finally found her calling dancing in a strip club.
Her routines are always steamy and she gets great tips, especially from women. The other dancers at the club are always trying to get Michelle to join them in an orgy, but she just laughs them off. The one woman she really wants eludes her -- Josey Tillman, the boss.
Hoping to win Josey’s affections, Michelle goes for broke and performs the sexiest dance of her life. Will Josey give in?
The turning point came one afternoon at the club. It was an hour before opening time and Josey was behind the bar, watching me dance. I’d asked for her opinion on a new routine I wanted to do at the club. All I wore was a red bra and thong connected at my waist with rope. The thong a simple line of silky material that I could use for stimulation. Red leather heels completed the look. Led Zeppelin’s “Whole Lotta Love” played in the background while I spun around on one of the poles. I gyrated against the cool metal as I slid to the floor, head falling back. By the time I reached the orgasm section of the song, knees far apart and back bent to the floor, circling my hips and rubbing hard on my clit, I noticed that Josey had been wiping the same spot since my routine began, her eyes glued to my busy hand.
When the song ended, I sat up and brought the wet fingers to my mouth. I watched Josey over my hand and slowly licked each fingertip.
"So, what do you think?" I asked.
Josey swallowed twice, then said, "Yup, I think that'll get their juices flowin'." Then she excused herself, said she had to go to her office for a minute, and walked quickly down the hall like her ass was on fire.
Smiling to myself, I decided give her a few minutes before I followed. Her door was closed, but I knew she rarely locked it.
Knocking as I entered, I called out, “Josey, is everything okay?” What I saw made me stop in my tracks and lean back against the door I had just closed, with a moan.
Josey was sitting back in her office chair, right hand inside her unzipped jeans, rubbing herself into a frenzy. Her eyes were closed, mouth slightly open -- she was beautiful in her passion. I don't think she heard my query or the door opening, because after a few moments, her back arched and she came, undulating against her hands, milking the sensation for all it was worth.
"Michie," she whispered. “Michie, Michie, Michie.”
Spent, Josey fell back into her chair and tried to calm her breathing. Her eyes were still closed.
"Josey," I panted out, trembling against the door.
Her eyes popped open in shock, but then she smiled in resignation and said, "I guess you found me out, huh."
She sat up, licking her fingers. “You are one hot little number, you know that?"