by Davida Lynn
“Problem solved. You're welcome. You can pay me back in lipstick or SBux.”
I shook my head. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
Ellen turned to the mirror to touch up her face, “Your little ex problem. There’s a group of bikers that just came in. I think they’re Rising Sons.”
I’d heard of them, maybe even danced for them once or twice. They were fans of the local strip clubs. Stereotypical biker bad boys. They thought their lives were one long episode of Sons of Anarchy.
It hit me. She was right. That was exactly what I needed. It wouldn’t take anything to make one of them fall for me and then spring the little problem of my ex on him.
The more I thought about it, the more I knew it would work. Jason would probably show up, and I wouldn’t even have to say anything. The biker would kick Jason’s ass before I had a chance to explain that my ex was stalking me. Since I wasn’t attracted to white guys, I knew there’d be no chance that I would feel bad or fall for the guy, either.
“Oh my God.” I stood up, “You're absolutely right. I can sweet talk one of those meatheads into taking care of me. They don't give a fuck about the police! Ellen, you are a genius, and I owe you all kinds of Starbucks.”
I ran back to my locker to change into one of my lap dance outfits and head out there. I dug out a fuchsia babydoll that would not only show off my mocha skin, but was sheer enough to give a hint of my nipples through the lacy fabric.
I threw on some gold heels and pulled some shiny golden boyshorts up my long legs. I slid the cheeks upwards to expose more of my toned ass. Leaning down to check my own makeup in the mirror, I saw Alana smiling behind me.
“You look great. Go get yourself a bodyguard, Charity.” She gave me a nod. I knew she understood. Alana was always more about force than coercion There was a reason strippers stuck together and took defense classes, but even she knew that disarming techniques did little against pure size and muscle.
I turned and stepped into the dark hallway that led to the front of house.
I walked slow, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness of the strip club. One of Nelly’s iconic hits was shaking the floor and letting everyone know that his solution to the problem with the heat was to simply take off all your clothes. It made perfect sense. I couldn’t argue.
When I stepped through the Employees Only doorway, I looked around. Heaven was still behind the bar, Calvin was back behind his DJ booth. Angel was bending over, probably putting some drinks on a table. When she stood up, I saw that there were some bikers seated at three tables near the bar. They looked ridiculous in their leather vests and bandanas.
Calvin leaned toward me. “We tossed your ex. He wasn’t happy. Started bitchin’ about Leonard. Said something about arresting half the staff. Darius made sure he left.”
I looked to the entrance, seeing the large bouncer’s back to me. He and Calvin were very good to me. I thought it might have been because we were the only black people working here, but I think they saw all the girls that danced here as sisters, and they always protected sisters.
“Thanks, Cal. I owe you and D big time.”
“Hey, girl, ain't no thing. I know you don’t want Leo to know. We didn’t say nothin’. Just be careful.”
“I’m working on it.” I said, giving him a soft punch in the arm. He feigned severe pain and stumbled back into the DJ box.
I laughed and looked around. There were about eight bikers. Half of them were older guys, some with beards that were almost entirely white. I ruled them out of the auditions.
Another had his hand on the railing, and I saw the band of gold reflecting the stage lights. I wasn’t going to seduce a man with a wife. I had standards, and I didn't want to ruin anyone’s home.
Three of the bikers were younger. One of them stuck out to me, though.
He was huge. If it hadn't been for the Harley costume, he could have been a pro football player or a WWE wrestler. The t-shirt beneath his vest strained to keep the muscular arms in check. His chest was broad and thick. He had a wry grin on his face as he tossed back a shot of something amber-colored. What was their drink of choice? SoCo, bourbon, whiskey? Something hard and straight, I was sure of it.
I put my game face on and began to strut. The club was still packed, with myself, Ellen, and Alana still yet to finish our main stage dances. Mine was in another ten minutes away, so I had to plant some seeds fast before I headed back to change again. I wouldn’t have gone out for a lap dance with only ten minutes before my next dance, but I needed to see what I was working with.
As I got closer, some of the bikers’ eyes fell on me. Being the only black girl at the strip club did have its advantages. I was often requested for lap dances. I worked the exotic angle up when I really needed the money. That night wasn’t about the money, though. It was about seeing if I could get a big, strong man to do my dirty work for me. I walked up the steps toward the tables of bikers with a smile on my face.
One of the older bikers was the first to speak. I saw a patch on his vest, but I didn’t really bother to read it. “Well, hello there, darlin’.”
I leaned down, giving the center table a great view of my tits. I had no doubt the other two tables were staring at my ass. “Hey there, baby. I’ve got a dance coming up, but I just had to come out and say hello to all these sexy bikers.”
I felt their eyes all over me, but mine focused on the one that was super ripped. He eyed me hungrily, looking me up and down.
The older man who’d spoken earlier said, “Well, you oughta dedicate that dance to Tanner, here. It’s this sad sack of shit’s birthday.” The older man slapped a hand on Tanner’s back. I noticed that the old man was plenty strong, himself. They were all fit guys, but they looked puny compared to Tanner.
“Pleased to meet you, sweetheart,” he said, his voice deep like a country singer’s. It warmed my heart better than a fire on a winter’s night. I knew right away that I’d be able to get him to do my dirty work.
I smiled wide and threw one leg over him. Sitting in his lap, I leaned in close, “Well, happy birthday, Tanner.” I matched his husky tone, letting my whispered words float into his ear, less than an inch from my lips. When I felt his manhood growing beneath me, I smiled and moaned so low only he could hear it.
Pressing up from his broad shoulders, I stood up and shook my butt in his direction. Looking over my shoulder, I winked. “I guess I’d better get changed, huh?” I saw the look on his face, and I knew the seed was planted. All I had to do was water it.
The bikers were hooting and hollering all around. They were a rowdy bunch. Maybe I could get them all in against Jason. The entire group of them were going nuts for the busty little black girl that came to wish Tanner an extra special birthday.
I got Calvin’s attention and requested a song change. He laughed and said he’d be more than happy to meet my request.
I knew what I had to do, and I was more than willing to do it, if it meant the end of my problems with Jason. As I headed backstage, I gave Tanner one more sultry look. I was going to make it one birthday he wouldn't soon forget, but he was going to owe me a whole hell of a lot in return.
I left the babydoll on for the dance. I had a well-planned routine, but I was going to go with the birthday route. Sometimes, a personalized dance was better than something where I climb the pole without using my hands. I needed to get his attention and let him know that he had mine, as well.
I stood behind the curtain, waiting for the music to die down. When it did, Calvin’s voice replaced it. “All right, gentlemen. She’s always willing to give more than she gets. Put your hands together for... Charity!”
I stepped through the curtain. The lights matched my babydoll, making me almost blend in with the backdrop. Calvin hit play and brought up the mains, bathing me in white light. I started lip synching to Marilyn Monroe.
“Happy birthday to you...” I moved slowly, accentuating my curvy hips. Whistles and hoots echoed across the stage, an
d I smiled, covering my face like I was shy. I was anything but. “Happy birthday to you…”
I almost never did it during a dance, but I stepped down off of the runway, making my way up to the seats with the bikers. I swung my legs over the biker again, this time pulling his face between my breasts. His friends all called out and slapped him on the back as I gave him an extra slow lap dance.
I knew I wouldn’t make much from that dance, but I had to take a bit of a pay cut. As long as Jason stayed away and Leonard put me on the schedule, I’d be able to make plenty the next weekend to make up for it. I’d also sleep way better at night knowing Jason wouldn't bother me anymore. That alone was worth losing a few hundred bucks.
I worked Tanner from top to bottom through the song. I felt his dick growing hard beneath his jeans, and I had to admit, for a white guy, it sure felt like he was packing some serious pipe. I gave him a knowing look. We both knew what I was thinking about. I had given enough lap dances to get feelings across with only my eyes.
By the time I climbed back on stage and collected the pittance that was waiting there, I knew Tanner would be wrapped around my little finger. He’d be rock hard and dying to fuck me, and I’d be able to get him to do just about anything I asked. When the lights went out, I had a smile on my face.
I ran backstage, half-crazy from my luck. I had found the perfect guy to kick the shit out of my ex-boyfriend. Unless they were total pussies, Tanner and his biker gang didn’t give a fuck about the law, and if they saw a tiny little mocha princess in trouble, they’d be more than happy to crack a skull or two.
I knew I’d be able to get rid of Jason, and nothing would fall back on me. If he decided to be professional and get law enforcement involved, it would all be on the Rising Sons.
Ellen was at her locker, pulling out a plaid skirt. I let out a sound that could only be described as pure joy. She turned, and her face lit up. “Was I right?”
I ran over, kicking off my gold heels. I wasn’t up on stage for another half hour. I had time to relax. “You were so right. They are perfect. The biggest one, did you see him?”
“The fucking brick wall of a guy? Yeah.” She was still digging around in her locker, but I had her on the edge of her seat.
“Well, apparently it’s his birthday. I gave him a dance to remember. He’ll do it.”
She dropped her school girl outfit to the floor, “He said he would?!”
I shook my head. “No, he didn't agree to anything... but he will. I can almost guarantee it.”
With a satisfied smile, I sat back down at the desk. I didn’t want to seem cocky, but I was just waiting for Angel to come back and request that I go see the bikers again. I knew when I’d gotten one hook, line, and sinker. They’d throw all kinds of money at me if I came back out. If I was lucky, we could jump right to the private dance.
When I heard footsteps coming back to the dressing room, my heart jumped. I could see everything falling right into place.
It was Angel, and she made the request that I knew was coming. I smiled, and Ellen knew exactly what I was thinking. I changed into a different outfit. I stuck with the lingerie, but this time I went with something that was a little bit more “secretary after hours.”
With black heels, stockings and lace underwear on, I headed back out to the waiting bikers. The tease was over. I needed to get Tanner alone so I could get him hooked on Miss Charity.
I hoped the schoolgirl look would be a hit with the bikers. I always pictured them with bleach blondes with huge racks, but maybe the black girl in a plaid skirt and tied off button-up would be enough to get Tanner’s attention.
Before I even got to the table, they were all staring at me. Big, greedy smiles plastered their faces as I swayed up to their tables. I couldn't count all the empty glasses in front of them. They were spending like crazy. As if on cue, the older one, probably the head of the club, waved some bills at me.
“Darlin’, I think the birthday boy needs himself a dance. What do you think?” There was a youthful sparkle in the old man’s eyes. These bikers were just big kids with cash. I counted at least five twenties, which was far more than my usual take for a lap dance.
I smiled, putting my hands around Tanner’s neck. “I think he needs more than a lap dance, don’t you, boys? I think he needs to come with me to the VIP room.” As I spoke, my fingers dug at his chest. I found myself wondering if he was bigger than Jason. Tanner could have easily been ex-military, as well.
The bikers were in an uproar. Cheering, drinking, and laughter filled the air. For the scourge of society, these guys weren’t so bad. I wouldn’t mind having them in every night. I smiled, joked with some of them, running my hands over a few of their broad chests. I wanted to get friendly with as many as I could. If Jason decided to pull in a few of his co-workers, I might need more than just the birthday boy.
It suddenly hit me that the fear of seeing Jason and the messages on my phone had disappeared, and that worried me. I’d gotten swept up, leaving the looming threat of him hanging over me. Fear gripped me for an instant before I composed myself. I couldn't keep in character, and Tanner was the one to actually spot it.
“You all right, baby?” He had to almost yell it over the music, but there was concern in his voice. He was observant. I didn’t think anyone else caught it. I was kicking myself for forgetting to check the messages. It only made me want to move quicker.
I gave Tanner a wink. “Thought I was going to sneeze. Now, why don’t I give you that private dance?” He nodded, and without another word, stood up from the table.
This time, I was able to keep my composure, but just barely. He was well over six feet tall, which made him a foot taller than I was. At his full height, I could look him over better, from his tight t-shirt to his jeans that made no attempt to hide his big cock. Tanner was the strong, silent type, and then some.
Peeking out from around the bandana were curls of hair. The dim lights made his features darker, but I imagined that he had dark locks hiding beneath the skull-covered bandana. For a white guy, he wasn't all that bad-looking. I could never see myself with him, but he wasn’t terrible. I wouldn’t be choking back vomit at the sight of him.
As I pulled him toward the VIP room, I wondered, though, if my taste in men couldn’t use an adjustment. I shook the thought from my head with a laugh.
Walking past Darius, we headed up a small flight of stairs, and I pulled back a curtain to reveal our champagne room. The Cherry Stem was my first club, but I’d heard other girls talking about clubs they had worked at before. From everything I’d heard¸ ours was one of the nicest. Our private room was no exception. It was clean, classy, and a fun place to take high-end clients.
It usually cost a hundred bucks just to get into the room, and the money had to keep flowing once we were inside, but this was a business transaction. Tanner didn’t know it yet, but we were going to start a partnership. Keep me safe, and I’ll keep you happy.
Tanner certainly wasn’t shy, maybe just stoic. He followed me into the room, letting me lead him. I smiled up at him, and he returned it, but I didn’t see much else in his eyes. The large man lowered himself down onto the circular couch, and I got to work.
The beat was pounding low, and I did what I did best: I used my body to make all the blood leave the biker’s head. I needed him to be putty in my hands, and all my dance classes, months of stripping, and careful preparation molded into one strong and sexy weapon.
As I moved all around him, I spoke. “Your boys gave you one hell of a birthday present, didn’t they?” I could feel his throbbing erection beneath the jeans.
He nodded. He pulled out a few twenties, and I grabbed onto his wrist. Bringing his hand across my body, letting him brush his skin against mine, I stopped and let him slip the money into my bra.
