One More Dance

The garter belt looked exactly how I wanted it to.

I checked myself in the mirror one last time; I was scorching. It was my night, I was going to be announced solo, with no one else. Men loved the way I moved, just as they knew the pleasure I took in showing off.

Some people say this is a paraphilia, but if it makes me feel good, I have nothing to complain about. The sensation of being there, in front of all of them—spinning, dropping, climbing, grinding, opening up, touching... and seeing their expressions of explicit pleading and desire.

It’s not for the money, though if it were, I’d be pretty rich and wouldn’t need to continue, as they all always want a private dance, always want the chance to touch me, even if only for a fleeting second.

And I love it—their desperation.

I wasn’t wearing the red corset; I was wearing the pink one, which was no less attractive. I just didn’t want to give the guys blue balls, although... no... that would actually be good.

“Seduction has never been so sweet...” I heard the host begin the opening, followed by a huge round of applause and masculine whistles. “The house of debutantes welcomes you with our best girls. Did that warm you up?” He asked, and more whistles were heard as I stepped out of the dressing room and hurried to where I needed to be. “I’m glad it did, because now, now you are ready to embark on this massive journey of seduction and lust.” He spoke as I reached my position behind the curtains. “It is with great honor and excitement that I have the pleasure of calling the diva of the house, the one you’ve been waiting for, the unique and unforgettable, Holly Queen.”

I didn’t need to think too much or wait too long; it was natural. The melody began, the lights went out, the dry ice started, the curtains opened, and there I was.

Walking in slow steps across the stage toward the pole that already knew my body so well.

The crowd was silent. They knew—everyone knew—that this was my moment, the moment where they should simply shut up and look, look and feel.

Who would have thought That it was possible to make love Through telepathy The moon is full, my bed is empty

When I finally reached the pole, my back pressed against it and, without haste, I crouched down until all my weight was supported by my legs.

I would do so many things to you If you were in front of me I would make you lose your mind Night and day, night and day

I quickly turned and rubbed against the pole; one of my legs intertwined with it and I spun with ease, leaning my body back and letting my head drop, allowing my loose hair to touch my backside.

You know I’m just a flight away If you want, you can take a private plane We’re connecting from miles away And you turn me on, even though you’re not touching me

As I spun, I felt it—felt those lewd and hungry gazes on my skin. That sensation passing through my body only made me come alive even more.

I moved away from the pole and touched my own body, did a half-turn, and leaned my weight back onto my legs. When I reached the floor, I dropped into a split and lay down on the ground, which was already covered in money.

You know I have a lot to say All these voices in the back of my brain Tell me everything you’re thinking I imagine what you’re already up to

Still lying down, I opened my legs and let my hands caress the one held high, stopping very close to my thighs.

I looked forward and saw so many people staring.

It was the moment to bless a certain lucky one and dance on his body. I didn’t usually pick favorites, but on that specific day, I wanted to choose.

There were many men, probably married, leaving work and daily frustrations to go there to relax and unwind.

Most of them were near the stage, throwing money, whistling, and clapping, while others were further back, sitting at the bar drinking, talking, or more.

Focusing on those who were seated, I saw him. Wearing a suit like all the others, he was sitting there raising a glass of whiskey to his lips, but he stopped the exact moment our eyes met. There were many people in front of him and the club was dark, but even so, I saw him smile at me when our gazes crossed.

Ah, I liked him.

Crawling, I slowly descended the steps and, maintaining that rhythm, I stood up and sauntered over to him. Noticing I was approaching as the spotlight followed me, he placed his glass on the table and turned his gaze toward me.

Who would have thought That it was possible to make love Through telepathy The moon is full, my bed is empty

Stopping in front of him, I crouched down, and his gaze never wavered from mine. I touched his legs and moved up until I reached his toned thighs. Standing up, I began to move for him and only for him.

I spun slowly, being sensual, and stopped in front of him again. I took another step forward and leaned in, bringing our faces very close together.

Unlike many others, he said absolutely nothing. He remained silent, just observing and letting himself be carried away by what I was doing. With ease, I sat on his lap and guided his hands to my waist—his hands were warm. He touched me and kept them there. I leaned back and moved on top of him, still to the sound of the melody.

I would do so many things to you If you were in front of me I would make you lose your mind Night and day, night and day

I positioned myself directly in front of him again and took his tie in my right hand, pulling him even closer. He followed easily, but as a result, his grip on my waist intensified.

I smiled.

“You can’t squeeze,” I whispered without breaking eye contact. He remained silent.

Seeing that the song was ending and I needed to return to the stage, I moved a bit more on top of him. As I was getting up, he touched my chin, making me look at him one last time.

“But you liked it,” he said simply and let me go.

An immense urge to stay there and provoke him hit me, but I had to get back to the stage.

Making my way back, they continued whistling and clapping. They loved it, and that felt good.

Seduction really did have a very sweet taste.

...

The next day, I woke up early. My application had been accepted, and I needed to hurry because today I would meet my boss.

In the midst of globalization, there was no longer a need to call me in just to look at my resume and evaluate if I was a good candidate. It was all done online, so today, being my first day, I needed to show that my resume wasn’t just talk.

Literally, I had no reason to work so hard. As a stripper, I made very good money, not to mention my family had a beautiful and wonderful fortune. But I liked working because it increased my professional capacity and personal development. Not to mention I had studied and needed to put what I learned into practice.

The company was huge and beautiful. Exactly like all the images I had seen.

A large corporation run by such a young mind—or so I had heard. I knew my application was accepted for a secretary position, but they hadn’t explained which post or department I would be placed in.

“Good morning, I’m Holly Demie. I’m here for my first day as a secretary,” I said as soon as I entered and walked up to the ground-floor receptionist. The building probably had twenty floors.

“Please go to that elevator and head to the twentieth floor. Just introduce yourself and someone will receive you,” she said politely.

“Thank you...” I looked at the little plaque with her name. “Esther.” She nodded, and I walked away.

Up on the twentieth floor, I did as instructed. To my surprise, I was told my boss was the owner of the company—the CEO himself—and he had strictly directed that when I (the person who got the job) arrived, I should go directly to him.

With nothing to complain about, and as confident as ever, I went. I had never heard negative rumors about him, but even if there were, I was too smart to let myself be intimidated.

I was shown to his office. I gave a single knock on the door and heard a response; it was a gruff “Come in.”

When I entered, I noticed the room was enormous and filled with modern furniture and even well-known paintings. There was a huge desk occupying almost half the center of the room, and he was there, sitting, but his chair was turned toward the massive glass windows overlooking the city of Chicago.

“Please, sit down, Miss Holly,” he permitted without turning his chair, and I did so. “You sent us an impressive resume, full of qualities for such a young woman. Are you certain you are everything you claimed to be?” He asked, and I didn’t feel intimidated.

“Yes, sir. I am a woman gifted with enough knowledge and strength to carry out my duties with precision.” He didn’t answer; he simply turned his chair around, and the shock I felt in that moment surged through my entire body.

He also looked shocked the moment he saw me.

It was the guy from last night. The guy whose lap I rubbed against is my boss.

“Holly... Queen?” he asked, confused.

Oh... my... God...

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