The Lady in My Life : MJ imagines

Not So Professional

1988.

You could feel the thunderous base of the music deep in your bones, you felt it vibrating the ground you stood on and the walls around you. It was a sensation you were familiar with, one you longed for and it was custom at Enigma Ecstasy because it meant her time to be fawned over, to have every set of eyes upon you.

You were focused on perfecting your lipstick, even the chatter of the other girls melted into a numb silence. You weren't much of a talker, you came in, worked your magic, got your money, and left. As it was a high-end establishment, only the richest men were allowed to set foot inside, and enjoy what it had to offer. All of the girls, including you, had a guilty pleasure for new clients because they often picked favorites, and that was where the big money came from.

You adjusted your chain-link bra, admiring the way the diamonds glistened under the light on your chest. It barely covered anything, your nipples peeped past the beautiful gems. You wore a tiny thong with diamond strings, a silver lace inserted to the front. You slipped on your heels, easily adjusting to their heights, you almost broke your ankle when you first started, but now they were a part of you.

You double-checked yourself in the mirror before waiting for your name to be called behind the curtain, gulping down a shot of tequila.

You took a deep breath as a girl announced your name as your song started, and what could be better than Michael Jackson's Liberian Girl? Opened your body and mind when the curtain parted for your entrance.

You walked on stage in a slow prowl that showcased your curves. The gems shimmered, and your body glittered as the neon lights encased you, following your sultry movements towards the silver pole. Your eyes took in the crowd, and roamed around, you held back a smirk as their jaws dropped at the sight of you. You bent over, catching their gaze, they started throwing bills even though the show didn't begin.

Your hands coiled around the pole, trotting around it before taking your first swing, one leg hooked around it with a graceful spin.

They cheered as you dipped, holding tightly the cold metal with two hands as you bent backwards, showing off the arch of your back. It was thrilling, you finally felt home on that stage, flaunting your confidence, getting endless praises and compliments for it. Then, you swung up your arms, and turned yourself upside down, your legs spread before curling around the pole, and completed a few spins that descended you down to the stage again.

You crawled around on the stage, teasing the men by peeking your ass as you grabbed the fistfuls of cash that they waved at your face. You tucked a wad of it into the string of your thong.

The stage had a selection of catwalks that led to three VIP booths, giving a better access to the top-tier clientele. Intrigued by the enigmatically calm air of the man into booth two, you danced your way down to him. And the closer you got, the clearer his figure became.

His black fedora was tilted so low that his face was partially hidden, but you could still make out the sharpest jawline, and the cutest cleft you had ever laid your eyes on. Black-clad with a golden buckle belt, and his pair of black aviators sunglasses hung from his chest pocket.

You twirled on the pole for him, swaying your hips lusciously, you felt his gaze seared into you even though you couldn't see his eyes. He clenched his jaw and spread his knees, his hand came up to his face as his slender fingers pulled out his bottom lip.

You got on all fours, peering up at him from under your lashes. You lips curled into a seductive smile as you balanced yourself on your knees, letting your hands glide down your body. You toyed with the thong at your hip, snapped it on your skin teasingly.