Chapter 2 ONE

- ISOBEL -

Something about having money makes you addicted to it.

The scent. How it feels in your fingers. The respect it can give and no matter how much you have, you just want more. Greed kills the good girl training in you and you find yourself doing what you never thought you would.

But you enjoy it, of course.

For once, you want to be a bad girl and dine with rich men. Enjoy luxury with a fake smile. Not that you hate it, but because you have to smile to get more. The lust in the eyes of men as they take your presence in, the desire pulsing through their veins, and knowing you're wanted and needed does things to one's mind. It reshapes the mind to bask in the moment.

It makes what's wrong become right, after all, it aids with escaping the painful truth of your tragic life.

That's why I'm in a fucking club, half naked, dancing in front of them. Because it fills a hole in my heart not love, care or family can give.

I pour wine on my body and swirl my head backwards, turning to face them. All eyes are on me, every man in this room is getting aroused by the sight of me and every woman is jealous.

I love it.

Mainly because this will be my last night here and I plan to make the most of it.

I sit and curve my upper body backwards on the hoop that draws down from the ceiling. My legs surround a portion of it and I trap it between my thigh and lower leg, keeping my eyes on the crowd.

The key is to look at everyone of them without staring at any of them. Men want to feel needed. They love seeing a lady needy. It feeds their egos. Boost it and pretend innocent and dumb and they shower you with money. It's so easy yet so stupid. I'll never understand men.

My brows curl and I bite my lower lip gently, swaying my torso to the side and letting my fingers caress my oily skin from my toes, to my spread open legs then up to my thighs. I move my hand lower, sliding it beneath the lingerie then stick it out. I gently place the finger in my mouth.

I didn't stick my finger in me, but I gave them the notion that I did. And it ignites their hunger. I can tell because this is not my first time entrapping a man. I know what hunger looks like.

The soothing music blaring sets my body ablaze. The cheers are a different melody in contrast in my ears. There's something about being noticed amidst a ton that's pleasant. Especially in a room full of women.

I take my hand slowly out of my mouth, eyeing every gentleman and dare I add, ladies, in the crowd with lechery eyes. Letting my fingers slink on my skin, I untie the netty veil strap wrapped around my neck and it falls down to the ground revealing my not so decent, thin, georgette, thigh length, see through, body hug dress.

Underneath that dress is the nastiest lingerie a club stripper could ever put on. And they can see it. My dress makes it almost impossible not to.

Especially with all that light directed my way.

Every gentleman will gnash their teeth just to have a taste of me. The knowledge boosts my confidence even more.

The hoop starts to move and with a last stretch of my legs apart, I clap them together and clench my fingers on both sides of the hoop keeping my head arched backwards.

Water rains down my body in gentle yet rough showers. It's warm, hence evaporates. Steam is another good way to intoxicate someone. Now my dress glues my body, making my lingerie very noticeable. The first thing I do is raise my legs, which are stuck together, up and distance them a little bit while doing the sluttiest movements with them in the air, still clutching the hoop tightly with my hands. I fold one leg down, followed by the other steadily and open them wide.

This time, I heard growls. I accept the amorous advances of the crowd with a subtle grin. The time for the audience to place a bet on the private entertainer for the night has come and I already know a lot of them are going to wager on me. This is how my money comes and I am not ashamed of it.

The number one rule in this club is never to sleep with clients and customers. We're simply meant to entertain and feed their fantasies from a distance. Maybe let them touch you, only if you want them to, but just on the external body parts. Unlike the other strippers in this club, I am the most wanted. Hence, I make my rules.

And nobody dares defy them unless they never want to see my face up close again. Which they cannot afford.

The hoop whirls, giving the audience a good view of my body three-sixty. I stick my tongue out and twist it to the side, imitating a felatio. My tongue is one of my best assets. It's quite long and flexible. Just like my body. I stretch my hand to the side and grab a glass of champagne from a waitress not too far from my left and curl my tongue around the brim of the champagne flute before sticking it in then drowning the contents down my throat. This isn't part of the show but no one's complaining. I drop the glass back on another waiter's tray and straighten my posture on the hoop.

Now the hoop is at the center again. From what I witnessed in the little maneuvering amidst the stage and crowd, the betting seems to be going well. Very well in fact. Familiar faces are noticeable amongst the crowd tonight.

A shroud feeling runs down my spine. I hope I don't end up with any of them. Not tonight. I'd be bored out of my wits having to perform and feign that I'm actually enjoying being with them.

I drop my weight on the floor and roll to my side. My show's about to end. After this one, I have one more performance before I'm requested to be a private entertainer. I may give my audience quite the peak before my last performance tonight. Or I may save the stripping for my last performance before getting in a private room with one of them. The choice is totally on me.

I kneel and widen my legs on the floor, assuming a submissive pose. My hand runs down my face to my collar bones then down my breasts. I grope one tit gently before sliding my hands down. My fingers are wide on the floor and I hump my hips up and down then fall my torso to the ground. My head plasters forward. A half grin forms on my face as I hump my behind up and down on the ground.

My eyes wander around the guests once more and I sight the door. That's when I notice someone walk in. My throat clenches. I'm still performing but my eyes are on him.

The man made his way to the bar and sits. From his stance, I can tell it's not his first time visiting the bar. But his build...

Fuck.

He has a very sexy build. Putting on a navy blue shirt that hugs his muscular torso finely is the hottest man that caught my attention tonight. From his hair to as much as my eyes can see, he's gorgeous.

I spin around. My night just got more interesting. Who is this man? I've never seen him here before, yet, while on this stage, he's all I can look at.

He's the only one worth looking at. And he's not looking at me. The thought alone stings down to the bone. I'm not even sure he's aware of this part of the club. He seems so into his liquor.

The man throws another glass of whatever he ordered up to his mouth and swallows. His adjusts to the side and turns.

He's handsome.

I can feel my heart beat faster against my chest already. If only there was a way to catch his attention. My show will be over soon and a man I've never seen before waltzes into the club.

The worst part about it is I don't know how long he'll stay.

Come on universe, favour me this time and let him gaze my way. Let this man notice me. Do this as a goodbye present to me.

He turns my way.

My body burns. It's kind of hard to breathe. How can the gaze of one man cause so much heat to brew in my body?

I avert my gaze to the side and look down as I stretch my hand forward while letting the other hand caress my body.

My face returns to the bar and my throat tightens. He's still watching me. Is he intrigued? I can't tell.

I'm nervous.

Never in the few weeks I've worked here have I ever felt cautious about my moves before. But he makes me cautious.

I swallow.

Well, if he's watching, I might as well give him one hell of a show before he leaves. I raise my hand high and let the other one fold to meet it without colliding. Then raise one leg up.

I can feel his eyes linger around my body carefully.

Fuck. That makes my pussy pool. How is this possible? How can one stranger's stare do this to me?

I fake fall to the side and churn my body in the opposite direction while swaying my hips. It's all about the gentle movement of my legs this time. There's something about the movement of nearly bare, sexy, straight legs of a woman in heels that does something to a man.

Hopefully, it does something to him. Or I'll make it spicy enough to.

I squat down, keeping my knees far apart and fold my torso forward. Now my tits are resting on the ground and my hips are raised. I collapse my hips on the ground and swirl around, keeping my back on the floor then arch my legs up.

My hand makes its way between my legs then up my body. I turn to the side. He's not there anymore.

My heart sinks for a moment till I look forward and catch him behind the crowd, staring at me. He made his presence known.

My lips curls to the side. I bite my lips. If I got him watching me till now, then I'm doing something right and I'll keep doing it.

Foot steps resonate in my ears, causing my attention to waver. At the back of the stage are the staff in charge of stripper's performance. It's time for another stripper to have the stage.

I kneel. I have one more thing to do before I exit. My hands fondle my skin from my thighs upwards till my fingers touch the hem of the dress fabric and I rip it in two while letting it glue my skin. The spot light is on me and my eyes are on him while doing that.

I don't know if I was mistaken but I notice his eyes widen and his lower lip drops. This fills me with content. I stand and flaunt my hips before exiting the stage.

Let's see what happens next.