- After the ball was over
After the break of morn
After the dancers' leaving
After the stars are gone
Many a heart is aching
If you could read them all
Many the hopes that have vanished
After the ball
Nellie wandered home from the club like she always did. Her spindly high heels hurt her feet, but walking barefoot on this pavement was asking for something nasty. The cracks made her ankle turn crazy angles but she had walked this way a thousand times (it seemed) on her way home.
The diner was well lit and halfway to the house. And on a good night there was good company there to share a cup of coffee and maybe a bagel. Mick the rasta who worked the counter on the nightshift had her coffee poured and ready. "Hey, Nellie, good night?" he asked in his musical accent.
"Nah, Mick, it was dead crowd tonight. Buncha stiffs sitting in the corners whacking off instead of throwing dollars," she said sliding onto the smooth vinyl topped stool. Her vinyl dress made a rude noise which elicited a snicker from another patron at the counter.
"Laugh it up bud. You wear a skirt like this and you will have room to laugh," the man turned to her and smiled. It was a crazy smile of the night people full of promises of unpleasantness. But Nellie was a night person too, she just smiled back. "Tic Tac?" she said sweetly.
He cackled and backed down. Mick pulled up to the counter next to her and poured himself a cup while they talked. She liked Mick and had given him a lapdance or two the few times he had come to the club. Mick tipped her in coffee. Not exactly the hot black stuff she would have wanted, but good enough. Besides, Mick was good folk.
"Why you keep dancin' Miss Nellie? A fine woman like you could do fashion modeling or be a rich man's wife."
"Mick, you are sweet to say that, but the fact of the matter is I like dancing. The money is good, it keeps me fed and I get to put this body to good use."
She stood up and did a little grind for Mick. Several bleary tired eyes snapped to attention as she slid down the counter pushing her tits up and her dress up too. White thighs and long legs topped by hard curves and jiggly mounds rolled along the diner counter making people forget their coffee and donughts for just a little while.
Mick swallowed hard, this was different than the dark corner of the club. THis was brightly lit and in his face. Just like the flash of her legs straight in the air spread for him to see that she in fact was not wearing panties.
Instinctively he wiped the counter as she slid off the counter and down his apron. She pushed her head into his crotch and Mick stood there with a strange look on his face as the folks in the booth chuckled at the sound of a zipper.
"Wow Mick! I never knew you had such a great cock!" she giggled from behind the counter.
Mick couldn't stand it any more. "Miss Nellie, I appreciate it and all, but please, the whole world can see!"
He backed away fastening his pants, his face contorted in embarassment. She pulled an apron from under the counter and fastened it around her waist. Then with a practiced wiggle she pulled the vinyl dress off.
She poked a pencil behind her ear and grabbed an order pad and a full pot of coffee.
She snaked around the tables refilling coffee cups and collecting tips. She took a few order many of them not on the menu and strolled back to slap them on the counter. Mick was clearly red even through his dark complexion.
She poked her bare ass out and leaned on the counter, "So Mick, you need any help back there? I know I need help in the back." she waggled her ass for emphasis and the chuckle that came in response.
Finally Mick laughed and relented. He lifted the counter and ushered her into the back amid applause and wolf-whistles from the night shift. One of the regulars picked up an apron and stepped in front of the back room door with a permissive wink.
In the back Mick was smooth and practiced. He had known many women and Nellie was among the finest. She, too, knew how to please men; her livelyhood depended on it.
She rubbed against his black and hard cock feeling it press against her ass and Mick waited for her to bend forward and stop her tease so that he could introduce it into her. When she finally bent forward and displayed her pink and moist pussy for him he was ready.
He pushed into her and she gasped at the heat of it. The size of it was good though, it filled her and made her moan in pleasure. Mick was gentle pushing into her slowly at first and as she began to sqirm and shake he picked up the speed until he was slapping into her ass and grunting as she made little yipping noises in time.
SHe growled as he stiffened and filled her. He gasped and shuddered and she moaned deep in her throat and spasmed with him. As his breath resumed in gasps and then long pants she slid forward onto the floor and rolled over.
The ridges on her forehead, yellow eyes and fangs made him gasp. She leaped forward and clamped an impossibly strong hand over his mouth.
"Shhh, lover. Don't scream." she whispered.
{anyone care to pick this up where I left off...feel free}
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Walking the Glass
Loud music. Expensive drinks. Dark corners. This is the essense of a strip club. The girls are merely hookers with an office, and the floor is a catalog with a DJ.
These havens of evil and sin beacon to the night like spiderwebs drawing in flies eager for the danger so they can fly away and recount to the other flies how harrowing the spider's web was. For every fly that escaped one would stick.
He might not get eaten the first time, but every time he returned the web would suck that one extra drop. Beer money. Lunch money. Rent money. Child support. Medicine money. When there is no money left to give the web demands a tip.
But still, there are those that walk into these places becasue they know the web as well as the spider. They see the danger and face it anyway, and the the web does not scare them at all.
-------
Nell sat in the dessing room at a long counter piled high with makup, paint, costumes and glitter. There were chairs to her right, but as was fitting none to her left. She was queen of the roost. Top spot.
She brushed the rouge onto her nipples. Her nips weren't dark enough to show well in the shadowy light on the stage. Up close they would blind a mole, but at a distance they lost some impact.
The faketittied onder to her right "Angel" she called her self. Her real name was "Beth" or something equally ordinary was waggin her tits back and forth.
Nell didnt even look, she should see them in the corner of the mirror. "Whats the matter, Angel, are they crooked or something?" she asked.
Angel bounced a couple of times on the folding chair. Her tits followed the up and down motion but lacked a certain...sustain. "I don't know, Nell. The old ones with the silicon were bouncier, these saline ones are ...fake looking."
a snicker further down the row brought two nasty looks. Nell and angel both looked at Penny sitting near the end. She was new and not quite broken in yet.
Angel's words dripped hatred, 'What are you laughing at baby-tit?"
It was true that Penny;s tits were tiny, but some men liked them that way. Barely an A cup by Nell's measure. Penny was doing pretty well as a rookie. Mike had said she was a dancer at a club down in Florida for a while.
She was tough too, she gave it back, "They are fake-looking cause they are fake. Silcon, saline, or pigs feet, it is still all fake. Men like 'em natural."
Nell was sure as shit gonna stay outta this argument. She leaned forward and whispered in Angels ear, They look lovely, Angel darling. Don't let that no titty pixie get your goat."
Angel giggled and patted Nell's hand. Nell wandered up to the front of the dressing room. Mike nodded to her as she walked out onto the floor. Time to make the rounds.
Nell was apalled at the rotten crowd. Wednesday night was never a great night anyway, a few regulars a few curiosity seekers. One drunk and a kid. She sat down next to the kid, the others were leaving him alone. Kids were rotten tippers, were usually illegal and never went for the champagne room.
But they were tasty said something deep inside Nell. Nell slid into the seat next to him and smiled, "Whats you rname?" she asked.
The boy (she could not stop thinking of him like that) jumped. Startled. He had been intently staring at the girl onstage. Honey had a great body, the kind that makes for Penthouse layouts and adolescent fantasies. All fake of course, but then again so were the Penthouse layouts.
"Marc. he said. He swigged his bottled water that must have cost 5 bucks and placed a single on the stage for Honey. He kept his eyes on her and Nell was beginning to feel slighted. Honey leaned way over and picked up the bill and tucked it intoher garter that was bulging by now. She linked at the kid and lenaed over Nell. Nell knew this trick and she loved Honey for doing it. Double tips usally, for both of them....
Nell leaned her head back and Honey kissed her . Lots of toungue, and lots of head waggin and but bobbing. Honey knew how to sell this. SHe lifted up and spun in place (not easy in 4 inch spike heels) and squatted over Nells reclined head.
She lowered her crotch to just above Nell's lapping tongue. Nell flicked her long pink tongue for Honey's honeypot. Honey moaned and wiggled and then leaned forward and slid face first across the stage directly in front of the boy.
He stuffed a few bills almost gentlemanly into her panties and got a big kiss for it. Across the stage even the regulars wer tossing bills on the stage. THe DJ signalled the end of her set and as Honey did her final lap she dropped a few bills by Nell for her help.
THe boy's eyes followed her off the stage and then the finally focussed on Nell. "She's lovely isnt she?" said Nell.
The boy swallowed and nodded. "You want her pretty badly, don't you?" again her question earned a nod.
"She can be yours. A private dance one song is only $30."
A private dance for one song was only twenty. Ten was the kickback for Nell selling this kid. She watched him count his cash. She counted it silently with him. $80 left. "For $60 you can have three songs" ($50 actually).
He considered it. Lets see what he'd do, it was a slow night she might get a little out of this. "Tell you what, you see those booths back there in the corner?"
The kid clearly said "Yes"
"Meet us there in 5 minutes and we will blow your mind together for that $80" The kid got up so fast he forgot his water.
*$75 is all he will have left when we get there, but that's fine. Honey'll split it with me*
She walked back to the dressing room and found Honey towling off. Perfert saliva and cigarette smoke and fingers and ...Nell shivered. She hated thinking about it, but it was the biz.
She gave her a kiss and Honey slippd her a bit of tongue. "Thanks, Nell, that last set was lokoking pertty sad till you showed up."
"Glad to help. Care to return the favor? Know that fan you had at the foot of the stage? He's waiting in booth 3 for a little lez action."
Honey made a face, "How much, he's a kid?"
"I counted $80 in his hand, and thats what I told him. Didn't give him a time and I am gonna cut it short after I talk to Gary."
Honey chuckled, "Make sure you let the other girls know. I hate when someone cuts the songs short on me."
Nell gave Honey a hug and another short kiss. "Will do, and I'll keep him warm for you. You are his 'special' girl, I am just along for the ride."
Nell headed back out and Mike stopped her at the door. "Did you see what happened with Penny and Angel?"
* Fuck.* "No, not a thing."
Mike nodded. "Penny is dust. Hank is gonna make Angel pay for her week outta her tips. Let that be a lesson to ya."
"Mike, You tell me that every time some rookie gets dusted. How old are you and I?"
Mike shrugged, "Hank makes me say it Nell, you know I trust you."
Nell punched him in the gut. Not hard, but hard enough to make him grunt. "Hank is full of shit Mike and you and I both know it. He runs this place like a whorehouse and he isn't careful. He is going to get a heart full of stake and then we are both back on the free agent list."
Mike shrugged again. Nell kissed Mike's cheek. "And I trust you too Big Mike. With my life."
[end of part one...part two is coming]