Sexy Private Dancer – A Dancer For Money

Do What You Want Me To Do – A Sexy Private Dancer

It was just another night for me. Same club and lights, with the same music thumping in my chest. Ruby red lipstick glimmering in the light. My long brown hair cascaded down the open back of my black dress that clung to my every curve. Light Camera Bitch Smile. I was ready. Consequently, not because I felt like it, but because I had to. I lost the shitty bet. Out I went and owned the stage as a Sexy Private Dancer. Slow. Smooth. Confident. Make the eyes stick. Make the hands reach. Consequently, that’s the game. I was their Sexy Private Dancer.  Their personal private dancer for money – nothing more and nothing less.

It was a matter of time. Then I saw you hanging out in the corner. Not yelling or waving cash like it was a life or death situation. Just watching. Like you were trying to figure me out. Something about you, as you watched with a look that seemed all too familiar. Like I was a song you almost knew. “Almost” is the keyword. Yet our eyes met, even if it was for a second. Moreover, I gave you the look. The one that says, “Like what you see?” Most guys Howl. Shout. Finally trying to get my attention. Not you, you just smiled. You were different.

As your Sexy Private Dancer….You got me.

The rest of the set went like always. Turn. Smile. Tease. Next, I knew how to be a Sexy Private Dancer and make that money. You intrigued me, and I kept looking back. Were you still there? You were. Each twirl, you didn’t look away. I don’t think you wanted to miss a beat. You watched me like I was speaking to you. Like you were trying to understand. When the song ended, I had my confirmation.

As a result, I tried to cool down as I left the stage. Moreover, I told myself: He’s just another guy, and I’m just a Sexy Private Dancer. But when my break ended, I found myself circling the floor back out and looking for you. You were still there. So I walked over and sat down. Your eyes met mine like dancing stars. “Feel lost?” I asked. You laughed. “That obvious?” “A little,” I said. “First time?” You nodded. “Yeah. Friends dragged me.” “I know,” I said. “They always do. Hate it or love a Sexy Private Dancer?” You smiled. “Surprised, actually. You were… different.” “Different how?” “Like you weren’t just dancing. Like you were telling a story.”

As we talked. You told me about how you needed an escape from your job. Consequently, I guess my job is more exciting. On the other hand, you were well off, but not bragging. Yet there was no need to impress me, or maybe you wanted to. As a result, the conversation flowed with only a few silent moments. You kept eye contact and weren’t staring at my almost naked body. You were looking into my eyes and deep into my soul. I wasn’t just a pretty body or face. When I joked, you laughed. But not loud. You were genuine and meant it.

Soon, I touched your arm like your personal Sexy Private Dancer, and I saw you relax.

Moreover, your shoulders dropped as your smile grew easier. You’d look at me. Look away. Then look back. Like you wanted the touch to last and remember this moment.“Still feel out of place?” I asked. “Not at all,” you said. “You make it easy and more relaxing.” I smiled, “That’s part of thepersonality,” I said. “Make the weird feel normal.” You shook your head. “No. You make me feel, how shall I say, human.” That hit me. You said it like it was true. Like, I wasn’t a sexy private dancer. I was a REAL person. Like, the way you saw me.

We kept talking. You asked about my music, mentioning a song I love. You said you play it when you’re trying to fall asleep. Soon, I felt the shift at that very moment. Most men come here to forget their girlfriends or their wives. To get turned on and get their rocksoff. But you? You weren’t running. You were reaching. Does this all sound too familiar? You know this is reaching you and touching your core. When you looked at me, it wasn’t hunger. Consequently, it was a loss in the moment for Sexy Private Dancer. Like you’d forgotten what it felt like to connect.

And you’d just remembered.

Then you leaned in without knowing it, and your voice grew softer. Your eyes stayed on mine. When I smiled and laughed, you didn’t look away. You just… watched. Like my smile and laugh intoxicated you. And I knew—you weren’t just falling for the fantasy. Moreover, you were falling for me. Not the dancer, yet the personality of a real girl. Consequently, the one you want for the Girlfriend Experience. Not the show. But the woman behind it. Moreover, just like the girl on the phone. As a result, I’m the one who gets you and laughs at all your silly stories.

Our time together ended too fast.“I’ve gotta go,” I said, standing. You tried to hide it. I heard the quiet sadness fill the silence. Then your fingers tightened on your glass. “Thanks for talking to me,” you said. “Hey,” I said, softly touching your hand. Light. Soft. “You made our time together extremely enjoyable. That’s rare.” Soon, you smiled. But it was different, and it meant something deep. Thus, as I walked away, I knew one thing. You weren’t just another guy.

And well for me? I wasn’t just your Sexy Private Dancer….I was MORE

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