This story will not be the same without music!
Glitter.
Silver glitter heels and they were oh so high!Â
The pole.
Her secret weapon.
Bachelor's in Good Looks and a Master's in Seduction. She was an artist. A natural talent. An Eve ready to offer the forbidden fruit of knowledge to any unlucky Adam that would come closer.
Another night.
Another performance.
Glitter.
Lights.
Red, blue and some more red again.
Vodkas.
Smoke.
Cigars.
And a silver, engraved ring in his pinkie.
Her stage.
Her pole.
Her high heels.
And a silver, diamond ring in her middle finger.
Music is on and she gets on stage. Her steps in those shoes. Her long legs in those fishnet tights. They were gently touching the cold pole that pierced the building ceiling to floor.
Her hands were strong... and delicate at the same time. Grabbing the cold metal, steering her weight, lifting her body, twisting it...
The legs never stopped opening wide, closing abruptly, following the length of that pole, up and down, slowly up and down and then faster and faster until they slowed down again.
Vodkas.
Smoke.
A cigar burning in his hand that longed to touch her body. Every inch of it.Â
The ring-bearing pinkie moved back and forth twice. A waitress approaches. He nods towards the stage. The waitress puts the "order" down.
Legs.
Hands.
Heels.
All keep moving up and down, twisting around a once cold, metal pole that is almost melting now touching her hot body. Song comes to an end and the heels make it down the stage.
They are now sitting at his table and rubbing against his leg. The strong hands that were working with the pole moments earlier were now naively playing either with her hair or his biceps. Her giggle, mixed with her warm breath, was already caressing his ear and the tip of her nose would accidentally touch his cheek every now and then. Her long legs were now comfortably resting on his. His pinkie was "playing" with her fishnet tights.
A new round of vodkas.
She takes the glasses from the waitress. Her middle finger, the one with the ring, starts playing around the rim of one of them. She played enough, now it's time to drink. She passes him his glass.
Cheers.
She sips smirking and looking at him in the eyes.
He gets more and more excited.
His pinkie signals twice again and it's another waitress this time. He points to the back of the room, the waitress nods yes and promises to return straight away.
Those long legs have never stopped resting on his, rubbing against his and her hands were not playing with the glasses anymore, they were touching his face.
Music.
Smoke.
Lights.
Red, blue and some more red... on his face.
Something was wrong. He could not breathe. He was sweating. His grasp was around his throat and rivers of sweat were running down his face. His pinkie made spastic moves.
By the time the paramedics arrived it was not moving anymore.
And it was not bearing his silver ring either.
The show was cut off, the clients left and the girls were in shock.
She went and sat on a couch away from all the fuss.
She needed to calm down after what had happened right in front of her sinful eyes.
She was holding something in her right hand.
Her left thumb was turning the ring around her middle finger.
Oh! The diamond had fallen off.
Where could it be now...?
Do you want a few more shots?
Here!
And here is another one!
Because what is the devil after all... just an angel with bigger ears! 😈
*Original images (with Nikon D3400) and story by @ruth-girl - Steemit, 2018Â
Special thanks to:
andÂ
Thank you, guys!! This post would have never existed without you!
Thank you so much for your time!
Until my next post,
Steem on and keep smiling, people!
