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“No, I’m not the fucking police but I fucked a couple of them once.” I couldn’t help but snicker as I remembered the time I’d been pulled over for speeding in Jon’s car. I couldn’t allow a ticket to come to the apartment if it wasn’t paid or even risk her finding out if I paid it so I did what I had to do and fucked both police officers in the back of their squad car to get off scot-free.
“You’re a trip, girl,” Skippy said.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“How old are you, Skippy?”
“Old enough to be your damn daddy, that’s for sure.”
“Then don’t you have enough confidence in yourself to believe you’d be able to spot a police officer if one came in here undercover?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“Then why are we wasting valuable time with asinine questions?”
Skippy chuckled. “You’ve got me making all kinds of exceptions up in this bitch tonight. First the free drink and now you’ve actually got me thinking about letting you get up on the stage without an audition. I live by rules. They are my rules, but they are rules just the same.”
I ran my fingertips over his chest. “Skippy, what’s the point of having rules if you never venture to break them?”
“What’s your name, Sugar?”
I hadn’t thought about a name until that point. I needed something that would land a bunch of bucks. “Just call me Mercy because that’s what men will have to beg me for when I start slaying their dicks with my pussy.”
Skippy almost fell off the barstool when he broke out in laughter. “Okay, Mercy. You have something to wear for your big performance?”
“No, just tell the audience the truth. That I wandered in off the street and asked for a public audition. Like I said, I’m not sure I want to be a stripper. I just want to try it out for one night and see if I’m feeling the profession and if the profession is feeling me.”
“Name your song, girl!” Skippy said anxiously.
Ten minutes later, I was taking the stage to Madonna’s “Secret” and the crowd was rowdy from the first second. Skippy had personally announced me and they were all excited about a freak coming in on a whim to shed it all.
I closed my eyes and got into the tempo as it started out slowly and then picked up the pace. The song was just fast enough and just seductive enough to dance erotically to and before I knew it, men were pitching dollar bills on the stage.
I swirled my hips and started undoing the rest of my blouse until it was completely undone. I turned my back to the audience and inched it off my shoulders until it was covering my hips. Then I swung back around and let it fall to the floor. I palmed my breasts and rubbed on my nipples through my bra. They immediately stood at attention.
I reached behind me and unzipped the skirt. Once again, I turned my back to them and started working my hips out of the skirt as the DJ switched to my next request: “Always on Time” by Ja Rule. I really got into it then and so did they. They started chanting, “Mercy! Mercy! Mercy!”
I worked my way over to a young brotha sitting at a table right in front of the stage. I got down on my knees and moved them back and forth together, licked my index finger and rubbed it over the crotch of my panties. I placed my fingertip on his lips and he licked it. Then he handed me a five-dollar bill.
I spent the rest of the song making my rounds and collecting money. I even swung around the pole a time or two but didn’t try to jump on the top and slide down. I wasn’t geared up for that one and didn’t want to make a fool out of myself if I fell. I danced to two other songs after that one ended: “Super Freak” by Rick James and “Mr. Big Stuff” by Jean Knight.
Once the next stripper, who went by the name of Pisces, took
the stage, I spent about an hour doing lap dances and yes, collecting more money. I was convinced that, if I really wanted to, I could make a good living shaking my ass in men’s faces.
I got dressed, thanked Skippy for the experience and told him that I may or may not be back. He seemed disappointed and claimed he would make me his star if I decided to work for him.
When I got outside, I noticed that two men were following me. They had been seated at the bar inside the club. Is this what strippers have to put up with? I thought. Motherfuckers trailing them out the damn club?
“Hey, Mercy!” one of them called out.
I swung around to face them. “What the hell do you all want? Why are you following me?”
The other one, obviously as drunk as his friend, said, “We want you to make us beg for mercy.”
At first, I rolled my eyes and then I checked them out more closely. They weren’t half-bad-looking and it had been a while since I’d fucked two men at once. Still, I wasn’t interested so I told them, “I’m not interested but I’m sure one of the other girls would be, if the situation’s right.” I was implying that they could get whatever they wanted if the money was on point, and they knew it.
