porn star dancing ★ rosénali

chapter five

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IT was Monday again, which meant Rosé got to see her friends; but at the same time, it meant she had to mask herself to appear tough and unbothered, like always, while on the inside, she felt uneasy and exanimate. Anyhow, everything went well at school — Rosé and her friends repeated their week start routine, and Rosé managed to appear as nonchalant as possible; even if in reality, she felt quite the opposite.

After an eternity, the exhausting school-day was finally over. Everyone in Rosé's class was excited to leave, especially Rosé's friend group, who had arranged to hang out in Utica's house; but Rosé had politely declined — she didn't know if she'd be able to stand another minute next to them without feeling bad. Thus, Rosé decided she'd do what she did best — evade the problem.

Rosé headed to the school parking lot, where her car was parked. She got inside, started the engine, and drove to the place. Rosé had never known how to correctly describe it — in any case, she had discovered that place accidentally, when driving around her town, cheerlessly. But even if it had been an accident, Rosé was glad that she had found that place; otherwise, she wouldn't have known what to do in a situation like the one she was going through that at very moment.

Even if no one there truly knew her, Rosé felt special whenever she was there. Possibly because she, inadvertently, always managed to stand out among the crowd there — mainly because she unfailingly was the only woman there, apart from the ones who worked there. They were pretty, for sure, they could definitely move, and they snatched every single cis-het white man in his mid-30's attention; but Rosé had never been very interested in those women anyway.

Only one girl was on her list — Rosé didn't know her name, or her age, or anything about her, really; but she did know she had the face of a true angel, but danced like the real devil in person. And that was all Rosé needed to know about her.

In practically no time, Rosé arrived to the strip. Like always, she parked her car, got out of it, and went through the big red glass door. And right at that very moment, she entered her escape world once again.

Rosé watched many performers' acts, even if she already knew them by heart — the women went out, did their thing, collected their tips, and left the stage; and so progressively. But, like always, Rosé wasn't there for them necessarily. The reason Rosé liked to go to the strip so much was the next to go out.

There she was — she was tall, and thin; and her attenuated black hair was tied in a loose bun. Her skin complexion was very clear, and she had the typical perfect body prototype that all girls dreamed of having. The girl had caught Rosé's eye from the very first time she set foot in the strip, with her graceful yet mischievous moves.

As soon as she entered the stage, the whole room started to cheer, causing the girl to timidly chuckle. She positioned herself right next to the tall silver pole, and took hold of it.

Then, a song invaded the whole place. It came from the speakers located on either side of the stage, and it was at a deafening volume. Rosé recalled she had heard a similar melody before, at a party; but she didn't recognize it completely. Anyhow, Rosé didn't care much about the music — she was too absorbed in the girl's performance, and mesmerized by her beauty and grace, to care.

She agilely wrapped her hands around the pole, and effortlessly spun around it. It was quite hard to describe how this girl did it — she firmly gripped the pole, and used it to impulse herself to around it. Her movements were unremitting and perpetual, but above everything, mesmerizing. And to top everything off, the girl would sensually lick her glossy lips over and over, while she whirled, possibly gloating over the praise she'd constantly receive. She always felt like a queen on her throne, but this particular time, something happened.

''Hey dumb bitch, smile a little more! You know we're paying you for this, right?'' The music was blasting from the speakers at an ear-piercing volume; yet everyone in the strip had been able to hear that. Especially the girl, to which that had left her a little puzzled and restless; yet she scanned the place, found the guy who had screamed that, and, steeling herself, walked towards him.

She was straightforward and concise by simply sticking her middle finger out — without saying a single word, she told him everything she needed to communicate, and apparently everyone understood her, because the man turned around and left the strip, and the rest of the audience praised her to the skies, congratulating her.

The girl simply let out a small chuckle, gestured the DJ to resume the track, and she got back on the pole, to continue doing her thing. Rosé stared at her in both admiration and astonishment — in the 5 months that she had been going to the strip, she had seen a lot of hecklers, but this was the first time that one of the girls had actually clapped back at them. The girl probably didn't even have a clue of Rosé's existence; but even so, Rosé was finding herself gradually becoming more and more attracted to her.