Before I Die

I saw a movie once about a stripper. The men were standing close and throwing dollar bills onto the stage. But here, the men are dressed in suits with drinks in their hands, talking to one another. It’s as if the dancer on stage is nothing more than a back drop. If the stage wasn’t front and center, I would think this club was a men’s lounge of some sort.

We walk up the winding staircase to the right of the stage, and once we’re at the top, Marlene shows us to our table. In order to get to it, she has to open the black velvet rope that has a sign hanging from it, indicating this is VIP. The table is a half-moon shape, similar to the ones downstairs, but instead of the comfy reading chairs, there are two two-person love seats. Next to the table is a standing bucket of ice with a bottle of alcohol nestled inside.

Unlike downstairs, this floor has several different mini-stages. I notice the stage in front of our area is empty, and when I glance around, I see each area has their own stage. Apparently VIPs get their own personal show. There are no less than three bars up here—one in each corner. And then in the back corner, there’s a hallway. I’m not sure what’s back there. Maybe the bathrooms?

“Your dancer, Christy, will be out in a few minutes. Naomi will be your server and she will make sure whatever you need is taken care of.”

Ethan nods once and pulls me onto the loveseat with him. It’s leather and plush and I sink into Ethan’s side comfortably as he drapes his arm around my shoulders.

“Dom Perignon,” Blaire says, lifting the bottle and smirking at Ethan. “Impeccable taste.”

A new woman appears, introducing herself as Naomi. Blaire and Victor sit together in the other loveseat while Naomi opens the bottle and pours each of us a glass.

“To Victor and Blaire and their engagement,” Ethan says, raising his glass.

Everyone takes a sip. Unlike the fruity drinks I’ve grown to love, this is bitter with a hint of sweet, and I can taste the alcohol in it. I would prefer a fruity drink, but I don’t want to sound ungrateful, so I keep my comments to myself.

“And to Nevaeh and her first time at a strip club,” Blaire adds with a giggle.

Everyone takes another drink, so I forcefully swallow another gulp. When I set the drink down, having no desire to finish it, Ethan shakes his head and laughs.

“What?”

“You’re just so damn adorable. You prefer a blueberry martini over a bottle of Dom.”

Because he’s not wrong, I just shrug and snuggle into his side. When Naomi walks over, Ethan, despite me telling him that’s not necessary, orders me my favorite drink.

The music and lights lower, and then a new song starts up. The stage lights up and a beautiful raven-haired woman steps onto the stage. She’s wearing a gorgeous white leather outfit with matching heels. She makes eye contact with us, and her smile is as beautiful as she is. We watch quietly as she performs solely for us. I’ve never seen a woman dance erotically before, let alone strip while she’s doing it, so I honestly wasn’t sure what to expect. And I don’t think even in my wildest dreams I would’ve expected to feel… aroused. Turned on. But as I watch her slowly remove her clothes while dancing on stage, I find myself squirming in my seat. Her dancing isn’t just sexual, it’s sensual and intimate, and I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s nothing like what I imagined. She’s classy and obviously knows her way around the stage. She’s doing more than stripping, she’s performing.

“If I pushed my fingers into you right now, would you be wet?” Ethan whispers into my ear. I tighten my thighs, seeking relief, and Ethan chuckles. “You would, wouldn’t you? You’re completely fucking turned on right now.”

“Are you?” I ask, a bit too harshly. Being pleasured is new to me, but ever since Ethan gave me my first real orgasm, I find myself craving them—craving the release, the closeness.

“Yeah, I am,” he admits, and my heart plummets into my stomach. I don’t know why I’m upset by his words. We’re at a strip club. Did I really expect him not to get turned on by the beautiful naked women? “But not by her,” he clarifies. “I can practically smell your arousal from here. Watching you watch her has me hard as fuck.”

Ethan takes my hand and runs it over the top of his pants, showing me how hard he is. “I wonder how wet you would be if she came over here and danced for you.”

My eyes widen in shock. “She does that?” I don’t know if the idea of her dancing for me scares me or turns me on. I glance back over at her and watch as she twirls around the pole, her voluptuous breasts on display. Her hands come up and rub across her nipples, hardening them, before she brings her attention back to the pole. Her toned thighs grip the metal and she does some sexy move, making her look more like a professional dancer than a stripper.