“Yeah!”
“You know I’ll have to sit on your face, don’t you? So I can pick up the dollar?”
“How bad can it be, Tash? I’m practically sitting on your lap right now. It’s not like we have a lot of personal space between us.” I jabbed my finger into the soft spot below her ribs.
Tash shot off the couch and grabbed a dollar from the end table. She creased the bill lengthwise. “Lay down on your back and angle your head so it hangs over the edge a little.”
Grinning, I did as instructed, digging my shoulders into the cushions. Tash laid the dollar over my nose.
“Now lay still.”
She turned away from me. Looking over her shoulder, she pulled up her oversized t-shirt and lowered herself onto my face. Her skin was soft and cool against my blush.
Instinctively, I held my breath. She swiveled her hips a little, then stood up, her arms in the air. When she raised the hem of her shirt again, the dollar bill was pinched neatly between her butt cheeks.
I smiled up at her. “See? That wasn’t so bad.” I rubbed my chin. “You’re due for a wax job, though.”
“Alright, ya little shithead. Scoot over!”
Tash wiggled in next to me. We fell asleep long before the credits rolled across the screen.
***
A few nights later, on a slow, hot Friday, pulling tips was like pulling ice-cold taffy.
Body odor and stale beer hung thick in the stagnant air.
I sighed and wiped my arm across my forehead after I set a drink on a regular’s table.
He smiled and flipped a couple quarters onto my tray.
“Heat’s got ’em sluggish, huh?” His gaze swept the room. “Not a whole lot of enthusiasm tonight.”
“Watch this.” I smirked and set my tray on an empty table. Pulling a five out of my pocket, I creased it like Tash had done.
I caught the eye of every customer in the joint, smiling wickedly and waving the bill in the air. Hips swaying, I made my way to the end of the stage. The boys in the front row were the customers I wanted. They sat glassy-eyed, a few singles laid out in front of them, but no action in their faces.
I waved the five a few times for their benefit, then turned my back to the stage. With a flourish, I bent back, tits thrust in the air, and hung half my frame across the rail. A hoot from the back snapped the boys to attention, and Tash turned slowly in my direction. She grabbed the pole briefly as she pranced over to me, grinning and high stepping like a dancing pony.
Her gaze traveled from face to face, her expression saying ‘Well now, lookie here,boys…’
I placed the bill on my nose, stretched my arms along the rail to either side, and waited for the big move. A couple more high steps and Tash was right on top of me, leaning over, a breast in each hand, nodding her approval to the audience. Some slow, sweet Eric Clapton played in the background, and Tash was on, her tongue just visible behind the sexy smile, eyes twinkling with delight at the mischief we were about to make.
They shouted encouragement as if they were in charge, driven beyond their heat-induced hazes. Tash lowered her body and slid across mine. Her nipples grazed from my belly to my forehead. She knocked the bill askew, but recovered, taking it between her breasts. She pressed them together, nipples gripped between thumbs and curled forefingers.
Heavily lashed eyes flashed down at me, peeking through the golden tendrils of hair that spilled between us and tickled my chin. She winked and smiled. “Ready?” She spread her breasts and the bill fluttered back to my face. I smiled back and rocked my lower body. “Yeah.”
Tash threw her head back and laughed a deep, full stage-laugh. She stood, caressed her hips and thighs, twirled, arched her back and extended her ass. Spreading and bending her knees, she squatted over my face and lowered herself onto me. She clutched the hair at my temples and bounced once, twice. Then she sprung up, snapped her legs together and did another twirl to show the money had been deposited. I could taste her sweat on my lips.
The applause was crazy loud after the awed silence inside my mind. Head swimming, I raised myself slowly off the rail. My back was a little sore, but I was otherwise unscathed. I smiled, pulled my tray off the now occupied table and strutted off to take an order.
We made a killing that night.
After work, we snuggled on the couch for a movie, wrapped in her down comforter. I had her feet in my lap, and I discovered I could stretch my fingers out to fit her foot: heel to the base of my palm, little bejeweled toes just edging over my fingertips. She had thick, hard calluses on the balls of her feet, gained from wearing the four-inch heals every night. Another reason not to dance.
“Tash! Look!” I held her foot to my hand above the blanket.
She chuckled sleepily. “Cut it out, ya doorknob!” and closed her eyes.
I waited until she’d been asleep for a few minutes before I eased myself out from under her legs and went to bed. Once safely cocooned within my blankets, I thought I’d drift right off, but my mind wouldn’t shut down. My thoughts were slippery and electric.
My left hand folded onto my breast. My right hand slid beneath the waistband of my flannel boxers-a parting gift from a one-night-stand. My knuckles peeked out of the flap in the front when I bent my fingers to soothe the heat that bloomed and pulsed beneath. My eyes rolled back in my head and a grunt escaped me when my fingers brushed my clit.
I dug my toes into the mattress and pushed my hips in the air, squeezed my buttocks together to hold myself high and rigid, while my fingers pressed and circled, ever faster and harder. No pretenses, no warm ups. Just straight to the shuddering end.
I clenched my teeth together and growled between them, released my muscles and rocked against my hand. My hips fell back to the bed, and crashing wave after wave flowed from my center outward, receding slowly, until they were merely lapping at the shore and I floated off to sleep.
Funny. I played the game, it being such a crowd pleaser that Tash and I were an
‘item’. Never occurred to me how comfortable it had become.
***
“Crystal’s coming back to town,” Tash said out of nowhere on the drive home one night.
“What for?” From what Tash had told me, things with her and Crystal had ended badly. I’d heard stuff from other people too, but that shit only rolls so far.
Tash’s eyes glistened in the streetlights. “To dance. I saw her on the schedule for next week.” She steered onto the exit ramp and signaled our turn. Her expression was neutral, her lips set in neither a smile nor a frown.
I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say. What happened between her and Crystal was none of my business, though I was itching to know. I gave it a minute while we turned onto our street and headed towards the end of the cul-de-sac. “Huh,” I said at last.
“Yeah,” she answered. She pulled into our driveway, shut the car off, and turned to face me. "Don't listen to anything she says, Joey. It's all a bunch of bullshit and she knows it." Her eyes found mine in the streetlight's glow. The intense stare made me uneasy. "Okay?" she prodded again.
"Yeah." I climbed out of the car and went into the house. Instead of the usual movie and unwinding, I begged off tired and went to my room.
I tried reading a book, but a pang of jealousy kept jabbing me in the chest and temples. What the hell did I have to be jealous of? The question rattled through my mind until I fell into fitful dreams.
***
The next few days felt like a month of standing at the edge of a minefield, waiting to take that first step.
We pulled into work that Sunday, and Tash flicked her cigarette at Crystal's powder pink Trans Am parked behind the owner's Corvette. The embers exploded against the fender and cascaded to the pavement, where they sputtered and died.