As I walked on stage, I saw everyone in the room turn their heads and now all eyes were on me. The most petite bitch in the building, but the biggest finesser. With the lights dim, music blasting, and my glass full of patron, I'm in my zone. I get a glance of myself in the mirror, glitter making my beautiful chocolate skin glisten, lip gloss popping, titties sitting up perfectly in my brand new outfit, fresh pedicure poking out my pleasers, and long red wig swinging down to my soft ass. All the niggas checking me out, and trust me all the bitches too. These hoes always staring hard as fuck in here, but I know they just studying me. You can give a bitch all the ingredients, don't mean it'll taste the same. Feel me.
My song is playing, Drake-Child's play, and I start feeling myself even more. I swing my hips, move my body to the rhythm and touch all over myself slowly, & sexually. My sex appeal gets them every time. I wink to a group of 4 guys sitting across from the stage in their vip section. Ive always heard about them making it rain but it's my first time seeing them here. All I know is they show plenty of love, and sell plenty of drugs. Real flashy hood niggas. Gold chains, gold teeth, gold watches, they knew they looked like money. And I wanted some of it. Three of them came over to the stage and asked me my name and complimented me. I told them "Just call me Foxy". I don't ever tell these niggas my real name. I might show off my body, but you'll never know me.
They introduce themselves, Keith, Ricky and Mike, and they try calling their other friend over to the stage but I guess he wasn't feeling it. He just sat back, watching me dance and continued drinking his Hennessy by himself. I can tell he was the plug, and the oldest in the group by how he carried himself. Him being so antisocial and chill made me curious about who he was and I planned on asking one of my girls about him when I get off the stage.
I have one song left in my set, I shake my ass and tease them by grabbing my breast and lifting my top up just to show my underboobs and sternum tattoo. They throw ones all over me. Seeing money gets me hyped, I start shaking my ass even more, and try to get as much stage money as I can out of these niggas. I got bills to pay. I finish my set, pick all my ones up and put them in my money bag. I'm tryna fill this bitch up tonight!
It's 11pm on a Friday night, the club isn't packed yet but it's getting there. I have a feeling tonight is going to be a great night. As I make my way to the locker room to touch up my hair, I get stopped by the guy who didn't even come to the stage earlier. Im just thinking to myself what the fuck he want? He ain't even give me no money! But I keep it cool, maybe I can get something out of him. He introduces himself, his name is Rell and he asks for my name... I tell him "Just call me Foxy".
"That's your stripper name, I asked for your real name" Rell says. If I can get paid for how many niggas has said that to me, I'll be rich. I tell him a random name, then ask him why didn't he come to the stage with his friends. "Because I want a private dance with you" Rell says licking his lips. I can't lie he look so damn good. I usually like dark skins but Rell is light skin, 6'3, has waves, and tattoos all over his arms and neck I can tell hes toxic but I was lowkey excited to give him a dance. I sit on his lap and start dancing slowly, I can tell he was enjoying himself once he asked to put his hands on my hips. I let him grab my hips and I continued dancing on him.
"So what's a pretty girl like you doing here?" Rell whispers in my ear. Another typical question. I don't get why people even ask, obviously I just need a quick bag. But I keep it simple and short, that I'm paying for school. Rell asks what I'm going to school for and mentions how he paid a couple women's tuitions. One thing about me, I hate a nigga that that brag and talk too much. It doesn't impress me. I decide to ask him what does he do since he paying bitches tuition. "I'm self employed with multiple incomes and have people that work for me." he says. I knew this nigga was the plug.
We finish up the dance and our convo then he pays me $200 and asks for my number to call me later. I tell Rell to put his number in my phone and I'll call him whenever I'm free. I lied of course, I don't have time to be talking to these niggas, but he look so good maybe I just might call one day. Now let me finally head in the locker room to freshen and touch myself up. The night is young and I got money to make.
Locker Room
I fix up my makeup, flat iron my hair and take my shoes off for a few minutes. My feet are killing me in these high ass heels, I need a second to recuperate. One of my girls, Candy, walks in the locker room and I get hyped because I been was supposed to ask her about Rell! "You know Rell, the light skin dude he in the section tonight?" I ask Candy.
"Yeah I know who you talking about, be careful with him he fuck with every bitch in the club" Candy says shaking her head. It's always that one nigga in the club that's messy and fucking everybody, shit, I'm not even surprised. I put my shoes back on, head out the locker room and strut across the club, plotting on what nigga to finesse next.
YOU ARE READING
The Game: The Beginning
Teen Fiction"The game isn't for everyone. Only the strong will survive. Some bitches get in and out, some get lost in it. The choice is yours." First book, I'll appreciate constructive feedback.
