AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Gerald grinned and nodded, using the excuse to brush imaginary lint from Max's shoulder just so he could feel his firm muscles. "Very good, sir. Like a man about town."
"Great!" Max gave a little wink. "Don't wait up," he said, before sliding into the cab, on his way to the club.
The doorman watched until the cab had disappeared around the corner, before he returned to his station at the door. He lasted a full three minutes more, basking in the glow of his brush with fame… before he giggled and ducked in through the door into the lobby.
I can't wait to tell the staff about this.
1
Arlo
The shorts were… short. In fact, I wasn't certain they could be classified as clothing. The almost translucent sparkly fabric clung to every nook and cranny, and half my ass hung out the bottom. There wasn't even room for underwear! I twisted around to try to take a look at my back half in the mirror. My usual uniform didn't cover much more, but this… was something else. "I don't know, Cass," I said, in a voice that sounded suspiciously like a whine. "Are you sure these will get me more tips?"
My best friend Cass reached over from his seat at his makeup station and slapped my ass. The fact that it made such a satisfying sound, without fabric to muffle the impact, told me that far too much skin was showing. "Are you kidding? The degenerates are gonna be lining up to shove cash down your panties."
I groaned and inspected my ass for a red handprint. Would that make me more or less desirable? I wasn't sure. I picked up my shirt, which wasn't much better, a gossamer-soft mesh that covered absolutely nothing. "At least I'm not dressed like a sexy cowboy." I smirked at Cass who was currently decked out in some assless chaps and a leather vest.
"You're just jealous," he said, picking up his black cowboy hat and plopping it on his head. He set it at a roguish angle and winked at me in the mirror's reflection. "I make this look goooood." He wasn't wrong.
"You know what I’m jealous of? Your paycheck," I snarked back.
Someone cleared their throat, and we turned to find our boss, Chance Steel, propped in the doorframe. His features were dark—wavy hair, short on the sides and longer on top, black eyes, somehow even deeper than his black suit—but it was the aura he exuded that was truly dark. Not in a threatening way… well, not toward me anyway, but he was precisely the kind of person you would expect to own a kink club like The Bar Cherry. "You know, there's an easy solution for your money troubles," he said, his voice gravelly.
I nodded, smiling softly. "I know. I told you I'll think about it, okay?"
My boss nodded, not pushing the matter. I appreciated that he knew when to back off, since a lot of alphas didn't know how to take no for an answer.
Chance had been offering me a chance on stage since I started working here three months ago. He told me I had "talent," which I took to mean a tight ass. I mean, it wasn't like I had any real dance training, right? So what else could it be? Did the horny crowd even care how we spun on a pole, or was it just the tease before we took our clothes off?
Stripping was the next step up from serving tables and bartending, and I hadn't ruled it out as a possibility just yet. It would mean a serious raise, which was tempting. I had a stack of bills at home that wasn't getting any smaller. Honestly, I wasn't just jealous of the dancers' paychecks. They had so much confidence, while I… did not. Serving drinks in a dark room while the patrons were distracted was one thing; being the main event was another entirely. With the spotlights directed on your body, alphas hollering, sometimes reaching onto stage to try and touch? Ugh. The mere thought of it made me feel cornered and kind of panicky.
If I got desperate enough, though, I would dance. And if that wasn't enough… there was always the back rooms…
"Hey, boss, can you give me a hand?" Cass asked. "The elastic keeps slipping."
Chance stepped into the room, moving like water he was so smooth, regardless of his muscular bulk. It was no wonder so many of the staff lusted after him, but he wasn't my type. He had this whole restrained predator vibe about him, and I didn't like to feel like prey in the bedroom.
Through the walls, I could hear the opening bars of Valentino's music. That meant Cass was up next, but my friend showed no sign of being nervous. He was calm and cool. He passed a glue stick to our boss then bent over the desk while Chance crouched down to stick the offending fabric, the sequined G-string hem, to the apex of Cass's ass. The image should've been erotic, Chance's nose just inches from my friend's hole, but the whole thing was done with such clinical efficiency. This was a job, not sexy times in a bedroom.
If someone had asked me last year what my future looked like, it wouldn't have been working at a fetish club, that was for sure. I was happy enough answering the phone at Jose’s Car Repair, a small local mechanic. I didn't need much, and the paycheck paid for my share of the apartment I shared with Cass. But then my grandma suffered a stroke. She lived, thank gods, and she was recovering better than expected, but the medical bills alone nearly cleaned out her savings. The worst part, though, was that it was pretty clear she couldn't live alone any longer. She couldn't afford to have a live-in nurse, and I couldn't give her the kind of care she needed, so we made the decision to move her into a retirement home, Golden Years. It was partially subsidized, but that still left me paying both my rent and her residential fee. And with my parents gone and no other family to share the cost, that left the financial burden squarely on my shoulders.
And the weight was starting to crush me.
I sighed and glanced at myself in the mirror one last time. My shift started in five minutes, but I was having a hard time psyching myself up to face a room full of drunk, handsy alphas. I blew out a long, slow breath, letting the thumping beat settle into my body. "I can do this. I'm fierce, I'm sexy, and people want to give me huuuuge tips."
Cass came up behind me and reached around to tweak my nipples through the mesh. "Hey!" I complained, laughing as I slapped his hands away.
He shrugged. "Get that money, honey," he teased. "The freaks and geeks love to see how horny you are, even if it's just for show." Then he peeked down at my crotch, the shorts doing very little to disguise my package, which was just barely tucked inside. "Do you need a fluff? A boner could make you a grand, easy."
I choked on a laugh. "Are you offering?"
He gave me a wink. "Don't think I wouldn't, but that might make looking you in the eye tomorrow difficult. Maybe Chance could…" he started, glancing around for our boss, but I shushed him.
"Don't you dare! It's fine. If I wanted to walk around with an erection, I would." I could always take a Viagra or wear a cock ring, but I didn't want the extra attention. If I wanted guys to touch my dick, I would at least get paid the big bucks for it in the back—but not yet.
"Well, pardner," Cass said with a classic Western twang as he tipped his cowboy hat at me, "I've gotta mosey on out there, but you be safe out there tonight, ya hear?" Then he gave me a wink and sashayed his way out the door, the fake spurs on his boots giving a little metallic tinkle with each step. The image was only slightly marred (though some would say improved) by his bare ass cheeks peeking out of the tearaway chaps, his skin giving off a faint sheen from the lotion he'd rubbed on.
Sure, yeah, I could have fun like that. I found myself setting my shoulders back, lifting my chin. I could be just as confident as my friend. Yep, just watch me go. The slight dread I felt each night was still there, but fake it till you make it, right? It had already been three months of weekend shifts, and so far, it wasn't getting any easier.
