eyes.
When it came time to leave, Julia’s nerves kicked into overdrive, but Miranda chattered, putting her at ease. Her friend drove, her never ending talk curbing some of Julia’s rising trepidation.
What if Daddy finds out? Excitement blazed through her. He’d be ashamed. The excitement dulled, but only a little. The thrill of doing something so forbidden surged in her, and she enjoyed the high.
They pulled up before Bottoms Up, and Julia’s excitement kicked up. Her pulse thundered, and she felt faint.
“You sure you want to do this?” Miranda asked.
“Yes. It’s good money, maybe I’ll make enough to help Daddy not lose the house.” She said the words, sensing the truth in them, but Miranda seemed to catch her hesitation.
“He’s not going to find out. And if he did, I doubt he’d flip. You guys have that weird talking thing. I bet he’d listen to you and understand.” Her friend placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and they made their way in to the club.
Backstage, Julia gulped while Miranda did her makeup and helped her get dressed. “You’ll do great, you’re beautiful.” Miranda’s words flowed, and Julia soaked up the comfort, praise and advice. For the last touch, Miranda tied a black half mask on her face.
“Okay, out you go.” Miranda helped her to the stage door, and Julia hugged her friend before turning to enter the stage. She took her position at the pole, waiting for the music to start and the lights to go up.
Once they did, she walked around the pole, one hand gripping the smooth metal. She closed her eyes a moment as the lights blinded her. Mo ving in time to the music, she clasped the pole with her other hand, thrusting her hips toward it in a rhythmic ripple.
With a quick spin, she pressed her spin e to the steel and slid down then back up, her hands slipping along the length in her most suggestive manner. Her eyes adjusted to the light, and she eased the halter top up over her head and let it dangle by the strings from her finger while she gave a quick shimmy that sent her breasts bouncing and threatening escape from the confines of her bra.
The shirt slipped to the floor and she hooked her thumbs in her pants, her hips tracing slow figure eights in time to the music. Eyes burned into her, but she focused on the lights again, hoping they’d blind her.
Ever so slowly, she worked her pants down. They slipped over her heels, and she turned and bent over to step out of them while giving the audience full view of her ass encased in cute, ruffled pink panties that matched her bra.
She stood, spinning around and grabbed the pole, hooking a leg around it before thrusting into it again, praying she was doing a good job. With a hand on the metal and her leg locked around, she threw her upper body back, then released her hand and hung back.
Shifting her weight, she reached for the metal again and turned once more, facing her audience. Familiar dark eyes met hers, before slowly making their way back down her body and she froze.
Daddy? That’s what he meant when he said the guys were taking him out? He doesn’t recognize me with the mask! And suddenly, the dance took on new flavor, and she let out every bit of pent-up sexual frustration she felt for the man before her.
His arms uncrossed and he shifted, as if sensing her dance had taken on a new life just for him. He sat forward, elbows on his knees while his eyes traced every inch of her. She shimmied, then snapped the clasp of her bra, eyes locked on him.
He sat back, crossing his legs as her taut nipples and modest breasts popped into full view. Her back braced on the pole, she writhed, her hands roaming her flesh, reveling in being able to show him her feelings without his knowledge.
She slid down the pole, her hands running down the top of her closed thighs. When her fingers reached her knees, she spread her legs wide, running her hands back up the insides toward her pussy, damp and excited as she watched
When it came time to leave, Julia’s nerves kicked into overdrive, but Miranda chattered, putting her at ease. Her friend drove, her never ending talk curbing some of Julia’s rising trepidation.
What if Daddy finds out? Excitement blazed through her. He’d be ashamed. The excitement dulled, but only a little. The thrill of doing something so forbidden surged in her, and she enjoyed the high.
They pulled up before Bottoms Up, and Julia’s excitement kicked up. Her pulse thundered, and she felt faint.
“You sure you want to do this?” Miranda asked.
“Yes. It’s good money, maybe I’ll make enough to help Daddy not lose the house.” She said the words, sensing the truth in them, but Miranda seemed to catch her hesitation.
“He’s not going to find out. And if he did, I doubt he’d flip. You guys have that weird talking thing. I bet he’d listen to you and understand.” Her friend placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and they made their way in to the club.
Backstage, Julia gulped while Miranda did her makeup and helped her get dressed. “You’ll do great, you’re beautiful.” Miranda’s words flowed, and Julia soaked up the comfort, praise and advice. For the last touch, Miranda tied a black half mask on her face.
“Okay, out you go.” Miranda helped her to the stage door, and Julia hugged her friend before turning to enter the stage. She took her position at the pole, waiting for the music to start and the lights to go up.
Once they did, she walked around the pole, one hand gripping the smooth metal. She closed her eyes a moment as the lights blinded her. Mo ving in time to the music, she clasped the pole with her other hand, thrusting her hips toward it in a rhythmic ripple.
With a quick spin, she pressed her spin e to the steel and slid down then back up, her hands slipping along the length in her most suggestive manner. Her eyes adjusted to the light, and she eased the halter top up over her head and let it dangle by the strings from her finger while she gave a quick shimmy that sent her breasts bouncing and threatening escape from the confines of her bra.
The shirt slipped to the floor and she hooked her thumbs in her pants, her hips tracing slow figure eights in time to the music. Eyes burned into her, but she focused on the lights again, hoping they’d blind her.
Ever so slowly, she worked her pants down. They slipped over her heels, and she turned and bent over to step out of them while giving the audience full view of her ass encased in cute, ruffled pink panties that matched her bra.
She stood, spinning around and grabbed the pole, hooking a leg around it before thrusting into it again, praying she was doing a good job. With a hand on the metal and her leg locked around, she threw her upper body back, then released her hand and hung back.
Shifting her weight, she reached for the metal again and turned once more, facing her audience. Familiar dark eyes met hers, before slowly making their way back down her body and she froze.
Daddy? That’s what he meant when he said the guys were taking him out? He doesn’t recognize me with the mask! And suddenly, the dance took on new flavor, and she let out every bit of pent-up sexual frustration she felt for the man before her.
His arms uncrossed and he shifted, as if sensing her dance had taken on a new life just for him. He sat forward, elbows on his knees while his eyes traced every inch of her. She shimmied, then snapped the clasp of her bra, eyes locked on him.
He sat back, crossing his legs as her taut nipples and modest breasts popped into full view. Her back braced on the pole, she writhed, her hands roaming her flesh, reveling in being able to show him her feelings without his knowledge.
She slid down the pole, her hands running down the top of her closed thighs. When her fingers reached her knees, she spread her legs wide, running her hands back up the insides toward her pussy, damp and excited as she watched
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