Dancin' For Dollars

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Size ten hips, skin the color of honey, deep brown eyes, a toned stomach, nice sized boobs, and a little something to grab in the back. Yeah that's me, and right now there are a bunch of men waiting to see the complete package, which is me. Let me catch you up on speed. My names Caramia I'm a stripper at Showstoppers, one of the best at that. The thing is where I work you have a choice, you can be a dancer that takes everything off, or minimum clothing. Me, I chose minimum so the only thing I take off is my top, but I still have on pasties covering my nipples.

"Standing at 5'5," the announcer called. "with her nice little body, and an ass that shakes like nobody business, coming to the stage, Ms. Ryder." that's my cue. Time to find out why I'm one of the best at my job. I step on stage grabbing the attention of some of the men who were looking at a completely naked dancer. See even they know what's about to go down. I strut up to pole, and take hold of it. I climb up the pole, all the way to the top at that, name a stripper that can do that. Anyway I come down in a full split, one would think I used my best trick but nah. I make my ass clap as I circle the pole, then I slowly remove my bra showing my nipples covered in glittery leopard pasties. I placed my torso on the pole feeling the cold metal between my chest. I hit a back bend, so my feet were at the pole, and brought myself up by only using my legs. I held the pole with my hands after I unhooked my legs. I opened my legs spread eagle then slid down the pole in a handstand. I've got about two more minutes so I drop down making my ass bounce each time I get lower. I put my legs behind my head as my last trick, it always drives them crazy when I do this. Why? Shit, don't ask me. I walk off with money in my panties, and the straps of my boots while Big Jim collects the rest of my money for me. The back is full of girls getting ready for their set, or girls mugging me. Told you I'm the best, we each get a twenty minute set, so we have to make it count, and I always make it count. Most strip clubs make the girls give a huge percentage of what they make to the boss. Not at Showstoppers, we only give our boss like five percent. I count my money laughing at the fact that there's only a few singles most of them are tens, twenties, fifties, and hundreds. I made a good two thousand, mind you this is after I take out my bosses five percent. Well it's time for me to get on my merry little way. Going out the back I see one of the security guards, Black who's like a big brother to me training a newbie.

"Damn," the newbie said when I got to my car thinking I didn't hear him. "she's fine,"

"Yeah they all say that." Black said responding to me. "Too bad for you she's sixteen cuh." I was in my car before I heard the rest of it. That's right I'm sixteen, and I'm a stripper, no nobody forced me to do it. I chose to do it. I started when I was thirteen, home wasn't the best place I mean I didn't have a mom on drugs or anything she just didn't take care of me. It was all about my half brother he was the golden child, and me I was left to fend for myself. So I decided fuck it. I told her I wanted to be emancipated, and she agreed no surprise there. The courts agreed with no problem. After my emancipation I never spoke to my mother, I didn't have a reason to I had been on my own living with her. Why would me being emancipated change anything with us? Since I was only thirteen they found a stable place for me to go. But I didn't wanna depend on the state forever I had to have my own hustle. That's how I got my job at Showstoppers. My boss asked why a thirteen year old would wanna work at a strip club, and I told him my story he understood, and that's how I got my job. This has been my life for the past three years. Truthfully it's all I know. Coming from a home where your half sibling is more important than you teaches you alot of things about life and the streets. Rule number one of both life and the streets; nobody got you like you got you. Rule number two; that love shit, it ain't real. Rule number three; you want something you get it yourself nobody's gonna give it to you, not even family. Rule number four; don't let alot of people in you'll get fucked over. I lived by these rules, and a few more.

For The Dollars Or The LoveOpowieści tętniące życiem. Odkryj je teraz