Marc set down his empty glass and glanced around. He hadn't been to a strip club in years. The present company was great, and the dancers were beautiful, but it wasn't really his scene. Sure, the ladies were hot, he couldn't deny that, but it all seemed so... methodical. They had some sexy moves, but that's all they were: a series of movements that showed off their very flexible limbs. There didn't seem to be anything sensual about it. He liked a woman to be just as turned on as he was, not simply going through the motions for his benefit.
"Marc! Your turn, buddy!"
Marc caught the now-empty pitcher as Ben tossed it to him. With an exaggerated groan, he stood up and headed to the bar to fetch another. As he watched the bartender refill it at the tap, he heard the DJ croon, ""Get your cash ready, guys, Miss M is on the stage! You won't see this masked Vixen on the floor, so if you want to get up close and personal, get your ass to the rail and bring out the green. No one knows the true identity of this mysterious, little sex kitten but trust me, after her performance, you won't care!""
Marc noticed the crowd was a little louder than before, and even the bartender glanced up to the stage. His curiosity piqued, Marc turned around and watched the ""mysterious Miss M"" stride on stage and take command of the room.
She was a tiny little thing, but she wasn't super-skinny like some of the other dancers, nor were her boobs ridiculously huge. The music pulsed quietly, building slowly in tempo
and volume, but she simply stood there, legs spread wide, her head tilted just a little to the left, as if contemplating her first move. The mask covered the top half of her face, but he could see her eyes sparkling while she scanned her gaze from left to right, as if assessing the crowd. Marc's groin gave a little jerk as he realized her mouth was shaped just like Lily's, with a little overbite that pouted her upper lip slightly forward. He watched those lips shift into a very slow, very wicked grin. The men crowding the stage went wild, banging their mugs on the rail and shouting at her to dance.
With a suddenness that took Marc off guard, she whipped into a crazy, spinning kick. Her booted leg whirled completely over her head, giving him a tantalizing peek of black lace. Her long, brown hair whisked out behind her as she ran forward and threw herself into some sort of gymnastic move that had her flipping sideways in mid-air. She landed solidly with those incredibly sexy legs spread wide, but she barely paused before bursting into another series of martial arts-like maneuvers. With a laugh, he took in her costume and realized that she was playing out every man's fantasy of the sexy super-hero: she was Silk Spectre in the flesh, somehow using real karate moves to convey a mood of complete sexual abandon.
He noticed that she wasn't stopping to gather the cash that the men waved at her. Despite the fact that she hadn't removed a single piece of clothing, she had the crowd whooping and shouting for more. He was just beginning to wonder how long she could pull this off before the crowd got too impatient, when suddenly the music changed. She was crouched low, her left leg stretched out to the side. One daring member of the audience reached out to stuff a bill into the top of her boot, but he couldn't quite reach since the boots were so damned tall. As the music transitioned into a more sultry rhythm, Miss M slowly folded in her leg and stood up. She was breathing hard, and the rise and fall of her breasts was mesmerizing. She retreated and leaned back against the nearest pole, as if spent yet aroused by her acrobatics.
Marc realized that this, too, was totally in character. He'd seen Watchmen over the summer and remembered how Silk Spectre had gotten turned on sexually by action and heroics. Judging from the hollers in the audience, he wasn't the only one who remembered what came next.
Miss M let her head fall back as she ran her gloved hands through her hair, down the sides of her neck, around her breasts, and then diagonally across her belly to converge between her legs. She moaned with pleasure, and Marc felt himself harden in reaction.
She slid her back down the pole with her hands still between her legs, and Marc wanted to rush on stage to catch her. He could almost feel her round, little butt in his hands as he imagined lifting her and pressing her up against the pole with a thrust of his hips.
Marc shook his head out of that fantasy and adjusted his stance to make more room in his pants.
Miss M slid back up the pole and twisted into one of the fancy pole maneuvers he had seen earlier that night. But for some reason her moves seemed more natural than the others had been, as if she were teasing herself as much as those who watched her. With her legs wrapped around the pole, her body hanging upside down, and her hair flowing down to the floor, Miss M pulled on her tight, yellow and black corset and ripped it wide open.
Underneath, she wore a black lace demi-cup bra. The contrast of that lace beneath the leather and spandex of the superhero outfit was tantalizing. Placing both hands on the ground above her head, she kicked out one leg, and then the other. She planted her feet on the ground and then kept her legs straight as she climbed her upper body up along the pole, her ass pushed outward and her back arched. Her breasts almost spilled out of the bra as she slowly stood upright. She pulled the straps of the opened corset off her shoulders and slid the entire outfit down her body, rocking her hips from side to side as the fabric slipped down. She stepped out of the outfit, now clad in a lacy bra and panties, plus those boots, gloves, and mask. The contrast of all that black up against her milky skin was mouth-watering.
She laughed, a sweetly innocent and shameless sound that reminded him suddenly of Lily. Smoothly, she gyrated her body to the music, twirling around the pole and then along edges of the stage, allowing the men to tuck cash in her boots and the top of her panties. As she turned around and bent over, Marc saw that she wasn't wearing a G-string like most of the other girls, but that the bottom curve of her cheeks peeked out from below the lace. The panties were transparent enough, however, that when she turned to the front he thought he could see an enticing shadow leading down between her legs.
Miss M was dancing again. The way she moved was an enchanting mix of natural grace and teasing sensuality. She moved only in ways that seemed to give her pleasure, and watching her made Marc almost feel guilty, as if he were intruding on a private moment of intimacy. But then she would smile and make eye contact with the crowd, making it clear that she was intentionally inviting them into this shared moment of sensuality. He suddenly felt a wave of anger and jealousy toward the men closest to the stage.
Marc laughed at himself. Damn, she was good.
The laughter faded away, however, when she finally removed that tiny excuse of a bra. Her breasts were perfectly round and just bigger than a handful. Her nipples were hard, little peaks of rosy pink, exactly the same color as Lily's lips had been this afternoon. Damn, he thought again.
Before he knew it, the song was over, and Miss M was gathering the remaining cash before striding off stage with one last sultry wave.
It was another few moments before Marc realized he had company at the bar. The entire bachelor party crew was staring at him, laughing.
"What?"" Marc retorted defiantly, hoping they couldn't see the bulge in his pants.
"Boys, I think one of the Vixens finally caught Officer Sloan's attention!" Pete roared.
Scowling fiercely, and secretly relieved that it was too dark for them to notice if his face was flushed, Marc snatched the now full pitcher from the bar and headed back to the table. The guys followed him, thumping him on the back and punching him in the arm, teasing him mercilessly the entire way. When a blonde dancer came around to their table offering lap dances, one of the guys asked her about buying Marc a lap dance from Miss M.
The blonde raised an eyebrow and said a little too sweetly, ""She doesn't give lap dances, honey."" She slid closer to him and whispered, ""But if it's mystery you're lookin' for, I've got more than enough for you, big boy.""
"You sure do... And I'll take it!" He shrugged unapologetically at Marc before stuffing a ten dollar bill into her G-string and sitting back to enjoy the ride.
Pete flagged down a bus boy and asked him something that Marc couldn't hear because the music had started again and another girl was dancing on stage. The bus boy shook his head, but then gestured to a curtained area next to the bar. Pete gave him a wad of cash and the busboy went running off toward the dressing room. Taking a look at his beer mug, Marc decided to cut himself off so he could drive home. He eyed Pete suspiciously and narrowed his gaze even more when he realized Pete was purposefully not looking his way.
When the bus boy came back and nodded to Pete, Marc groaned inwardly. When Pete smiled at him and announced to the table that Marc had a surprise waiting for him behind the curtain, Marc groaned out loud.
Close this window