Visions of Ecstasy
Authors Note: This is the first of a series of stories revolving around Freedom Love Jones (aka Dom) and a young stripper named Emily. The series itself is not chronological so the stories won't be identified as "chapters" but I will include "Dom and Emily" as a key word if you would like to follow along as Dom introduces his young lover to various sexual disciplines. This one is where it all starts and I hope you enjoy it. I'd love to get your feedback and likewise if there are exploits that you would like to see young Emily experience leave me a comment.
As she danced on the brightly lit stage, he sat at a small table nearby, mesmerized by the way she moved. The way she danced reminded him of smoke, rising slowly, flowing languidly through the air, real and tangible to the eye but elusive to the touch. She moved slowly and sensuously as she glided across the small stage looking out from under half-lidded eyes, silently seducing the audience of men that surrounded her. Several men stood in a line in front of the stage waiting for her to dance for them, to seduce them with her eyes and grant them glimpses of paradise. As they stood there, clutching dollar bills in their sweaty hands and anticipating the brief touch of her skin when they tucked the bills into her thin black garter they saw visions of ecstasy.
Fully aware of her beauty and the deliciousness of her naked sex she turned and bent over at the waist in front of a man who stood at the edge of the stage with a ten-dollar bill in hand. For a brief moment, she displayed the mysterious delight of her sweet forbidden fruit, then arching her back she stood upright again and spun around on one foot to face him. She smiled down at the awestruck expression on his face and pulled her garter aside so he could express his appreciation by sliding his money under it. As he did this looking longingly into her eyes he mouthed the words "You're so beautiful," to her, then abruptly turned and left.
"Hello beautiful, what's your name?" he said in a friendly voice wearing an easy smile on his face.
"You gotta promise me that you won't laugh," he said in a serious tone as he reached out to take her hand to plant a tender kiss on her knuckles.
"Freedom," he said looking her in the eyes. Her smile widened, and he could tell that she was stifling back a giggle, but she kept control.
"Nope, totally on the level. Here, you wanna see my driver's license?"
"Aww, you said that you wouldn't laugh," he said. "But even I have to admit it's pretty damn funny."
"I go by Dom now, but I'd be delighted to tell you the story behind my real name if you have a little time to sit with me," he said as he took a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet and folded it neatly in half for her to see.
"Yeah, I'll be here for a bit," he said and added "waiting for a chance to get to know you."
He watched her as she meandered through the crowd of men, introducing herself and thanking them, while she collected their ones and fives in her garter. He marveled at how graceful and poised she was, smiling and shaking hands while humbly accepting complements along with the tips she received.
As she made her way through the throng of men-most of them BOYS if the truth were to be told-smiling and collecting tips, she couldn't get the face of the stranger with the funny name out of her head. He was handsome, sure, but not up to the par of the men she ordinarily took notice of. He was older, that much she liked because she was so tired of boys and their shit that she could just scream, but not too old. Not 'creepy' old and that was cool, but it was more than that. "Was it his smile? Was it the way he dressed? Was it the hundred-dollar bill he had given her? What was it?" she wondered and why did she even care, she thought to herself, as she headed over to the table where her companion was eagerly awaiting her return.
When it was time for her next set, she was relieved to find the stranger, Dom, still sitting at the same table where she had left him about thirty minutes before. When he noticed her 'see' him, he smiled and nodded ever so slightly, as if to say, "I'm right here waiting for you." As the first song of her set began to pour from the club's loudspeakers, she felt the presence of his eyes on her, and it turned her on. Sure, there were probably twenty men in the club, and at least fifteen of them were focused on her right then, but she was numb to their expressions of wanting, desire, lust, and longing, not his though. She was not numb to his 'look,' his expression of interest and appreciation.
She took a deep breath as the music began to flow over and around her like water filling a pool and she began to move to a beat and rhythm that resonated inside her. She liked the analogy of dancing to swimming because it felt very much like she was swimming when she danced. Swimming through sound, through rhythm and melody, through vocals and harmony, swimming through the very air that swirled around her. When she danced, she could feel the little eddies of air currents being moved by the heavy beat of the bass line, and she would swerve and sway with those currents, gliding across the smooth stage floor effortlessly.
As her first song neared the end, she turned until she was facing the large mirror that covered the wall at the back of the stage and with her back facing the crowd of men eagerly watching she slowly removed the skimpy top she was wearing.
As the second song neared its end, she approached the large mirror on the back wall again. At the very last second, she pirouetted towards the sea of men watching her with hungry eyes and reached above her head to a metal bar affixed there. As she grasped the bar she rocked back, placing her neck and shoulders on the mirror, then she arched her firm breasts skyward looking like an enraptured Greek goddess. Her delicate arms sank gracefully to her waist as she remained frozen there, then she hooked both of her thumbs into the tiny lace skirt she wore and began to inch it down. Just as the second song reached its climax, she drug the skirt over her phenomenal ass and slowly down her creamy thighs, until finally, it lay crumpled at her feet on the stage leaving her nearly naked sex covered by only a small triangle of black satin.
As she came to rest she lifted her knee while sliding that foot up her shin, then spinning around on the other foot she arched her graceful neck letting her hair cascade across her shoulders and down her back. Most of her audience was staring stupefied at the sight before them having no reference, in reality, to compare it to. Stopping with her back towards the audience Ivory bent at the waist and with agonizing slowness slid the tiny black G-string over her perfect ass and past her muscular thighs leaving it puddled at her feet.
Having been a dancer for a couple years now, she was used to the sensation of being 'watched' while she was on stage and she had become numb to the army of eyes that were on her. She stayed focused on the music pounding out of the large speakers on either side of the stage and became a specter, an apparition of lust floating across the stage and entrancing all who watched her. She kept her eyes half-lidded as she danced and scanned the throng of men filling the club. Most of them were in their mid-forties and early fifties with a handful of college guys thrown in the mix to spice things up.
As she danced now, she could feel the stranger's eyes on her, and it really turned her on. She checked to make sure that he was still there as she danced close to the front of the stage for a man in a dark blue suit and was relieved to see that he was still drinking her in with his deep brown eyes. He was wearing a black leather sports coat over a well-fitting black crew-neck tee-shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders and thick chest, and a pair of dark blue Levi's jeans. She watched him as she danced and noticed him avert his eyes for a second to look at his expensive watch making her nervous that he might leave before she had the chance to get to know him better. She was paying more attention to him than she was her stage, so she was surprised to find a college kid standing in front of her holding a dollar bill folded in half when she looked down.
"Fuck you, you bitch!" he yelled as he was led away and within seconds the space he once occupied was filled by another customer looking adoringly up at her. She looked back at the man standing before her in his slightly disheveled business suit wearing a grin that said, "I'm shit faced and in love." She knew at once that the danger had passed so smiling back at him she drifted back to the front of the stage and twirled before turning her back, letting him enjoy the view of her stunning heart-shaped ass.
He watched as she walked away from him, this time with a promise to return soon, and was once again blown away by how damn beautiful she was. He had been to lots of clubs in his life and had met more than his share of very attractive dancers, but there was something about her that was different.
The garter was the only thing she wore on stage, her naked skin glowing under the brightly colored lights that were focused on her. Her smooth, pale skin was contrasted by the cream-colored nipples of her perfect upturned breasts, and by the mane of chocolate colored hair that framed her beautiful face. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders and flowed down her smooth muscular back stopping at the base of her shoulder blades. It was wild and untamed, and it accentuated her long graceful neck perfectly. Her hazel eyes beamed from underneath her eyelids drawing the men's eyes up from her forbidden pleasures and entrancing them like a snake mesmerizes its prey before it strikes.
After her set was over, she welcomed the next dancer up onto the stage and stepped down to make the rounds. As she moved gracefully from table to table thanking the men for their kind attention, she gathered tips from them, and her garter exploded with dollar bills. When she got to him, he smiled up at her.
"Ivory, what's yours?" she replied reaching out with her right hand.
Bemused she said, "Okay I promise."
"No, it's not. You're just messing with me."
"Okay, I'll call your bluff. Let me see it," she said, so he reached into his pocket taking out his wallet and handed it over. She looked at the small plastic rectangle in her hand turning it in the dim light until she could make out the writing next to the picture printed on it. She read it out loud, "Freedom Love Jones" and couldn't help herself as she giggled.
"That's some name," she said as she handed him back his license, still smiling from the thought of someone actually naming their kid 'Freedom Love.'
"I'd love to," she replied as she lifted her leg and pulled the garter up so he could slip the bill underneath it. "But I'm sitting with someone right now. Are you going to be around for a while?"
"Cool, I'll be back then," she said. With that, she smiled and leaning over, kissed him on the cheek before turning to go.
She was wearing a very short black lacy skirt that just barely covered her heart shaped ass and a matching top that concealed her beautiful breasts but left her flat tummy exposed. It was hard to tell exactly how tall she was because she was wearing crazy platform shoes with at least six-inch heels, but he guessed that she was around 5'2" in her bare feet. Whatever her height, her petite frame was perfectly proportional, and anyone seeing her through the lenses of his eyes would have to agree that she was gorgeous.
As she sat down next to a nicely dressed man in his mid-forties and gave him kiss on the cheek, she gave up thinking about "why" and focused instead on the conversation at hand knowing that she would make short work of it and then find the mysterious stranger after her next set.
He watched her like one would watch a ballet or opera, or perhaps the way one appreciates art or music. His look wasn't one of longing, but rather of respect, so she was excited to dance for him. She was aching to dance for him. No, she needed to dance for him.
"Effortlessly," she remembered that phrase from when she was young and made it her mantra. During the countless hours she spent in her room, listening to her radio and dancing in front of the full-length mirror, falling into the music, giving herself up to the tempo and rhythm, she strived to make it look effortless. Now, here she was in her element and moving effortlessly around the stage seducing these men, inserting herself into their dreams and forcing them to reevaluate their standard of beauty, to elevate it to her level making her the "gold standard," and it pleased her.
He watched in delight, as she moved across the space like a shark on patrol. She slunk, and undulated, and glided, all about the stage and the bright lights above her cast colorful shadows on her graceful ribcage, making it look like she was swimming through neon water.
Entranced by her seductive dance, he smiled at her in deep appreciation of the artistry of her graceful moves. She was truly an artist; the stage was her canvas, but she was the art itself. All eyes were upon her now, as she teased her way to the front of the stage, appearing to move at the whim of some otherworldly current. Easing her way to the thick brass pole in the center of the stage, she paused, looking out at the throng of men wistfully. With great poise, she turned and grabbed the pole high above her head, pulling her sleek form up into the air in one graceful motion. Then slowly she swirled back down to the stage like a leaf tickled by a gentle breeze.
She remained in that position for what seemed like an eternity then shifting her hips ever so slightly she gave everyone a glimpse of her paradise before arching her statuesque back and drifting upright once again. Stepping free of her panties she dipped and scooped them up in one swift movement and deposited them out of the way as she floated back across the stage.
Personally, she preferred the older dudes because they were kinder, more appreciative of her 'charms' and they were more generous. The college boys were by and large rude and aggressive and definitely cheap. She resented the fact that they generally thought that she was some kind of whore, just because she was a stripper. Secretly she hated it when a college boy was standing at the edge of her stage fingering his dollar bill with sweaty hands and consuming her flesh with his hungry eyes. More often than not it seemed that when it came time for the boy to tip her he would take advantage and she would need one of the bouncers to put him back in his place. She never sat with college boys in between her sets but had no such issues with the older gentlemen that paid attention to her.
He had messy black hair and was wearing a wrinkled polo shirt that was untucked from his blue jeans as he stood there and she had a bad feeling about him right off the start. As she swayed back and forth to the music and turned to face him, she lifted the elastic garter encircling her firm white thigh so he could insert his tip and he slid his hand up in-between her legs touching her naked sex while saying "How about a taste of that juicy little cunt, babe." Her reaction was immediate, and she slapped him hard across the face yelling "FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE!" As his eyes filled with rage, he pulled his arm back making a fist but before he could lash out one of the bouncers was on him pinning both arms behind his back and shoving him forcefully towards the door.
The rest of her set was uneventful, but she remained aware of the eyes of the man with the funny name throughout and it made her moist knowing that he was watching her. After she stepped down from the stage, she walked over to his table to tell him that she was coming to visit with him just as soon as she made the rounds and his smile was so warm and inviting that it made her blush.
She was in a different category than other girls, an elite class, in the same way, that a diamond stood alone atop the list of precious stones and no other gem regardless of its luster, size or color could compete with it. She was a diamond, precious and perfect, and he could see that in her walk, in the way she danced, in her smile, and in the radiance of her cat-like eyes. As visions of her consumed him and he thought about the intangible qualities that made her so radiant he was shocked back to reality by the sound of her voice and the warmth of her breath on his ear.