Ginny's Story Chapter 73

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Ginny's Story

A novel by Karen Lockhart

Copyright© 2018 Karen Lockhart
All Rights Reserved.


 


It's funny how things happen


CHAPTER 73

Thursday came and went with monotony, at least for our world. I was nervously looking forward to Friday's lesson with Jean. How big is a fire pole anyway?

On the ride to the Club, Jean was giving me a verbal pole dancing lesson.

“The main thing is to have the audience think the pole is your reluctant lover and it's up to you to get him in the mood,” Jean continued, “Then you include me in warming him up. If you can make the guys think we're heading towards a threesome, you've got it!”

All the time she was telling me this I was in my Rudolph mode, my face was bright red!

“Jean, I'll try this once, if I can't do it on the pole, then I'll just walk around the stage for ten minutes or so wiggling my bum. Okay?”

Jean snickered: “Wiggling your bum, I love it! When we get there, please give me an example, I might forget about having you making love to the pole.”

For the rest of the way down the expressway, I was quietly grinding my teeth. Jean of course, was still snickering. Every now and then I thought I heard her say pole under her breath.

We got to the club and went our separate ways, her to the dressing room (A stripper with a dressing room, isn't that like “Jumbo shrimp?), and me to the bar.

Jean suggested when I practice with the pole, I wear my suit, Growl!

The first person I saw was Mr Logan. He looked at me with his eyebrows raised, when I smiled and nodded, he gave me a fist pump. That of course got Bobbi and Chris curious. They began pestering me about what was up.

I avoided giving any direct answer for two hours or so. While I was busy taking care of the waitresses, Bobbi grabbed my duffel and peeked inside. With a loud squeal, Bobbi held up my tiger suit. “Chris, you owe me twenty dollars, she will dance with Terri!”

Since the cat was out of the bag, (snicker) I told them my plan to wear the tiger suit on Saturdays and at least walk across the stage during Jean's act.

“That's the least you'll do,” Chris asked, “then what's the most?”

I quietly told them of Jean's idea of me making love to the brass fire pole.

They both yelled “I have to see that!”

I reminded them that that would mean no one would be behind the bar.

“Oh shoot!” said Chris, “Bobbi, ask your father if we can get a closed circuit camera feed in here. They're all over the place, why can't we have one behind the bar?”

“Great idea! That way the bar patrons can watch the strippers and spend more money here. You are a genius Chris!” Bobbi spun around and went looking for her father.

I walked towards Hiram and Cathy at the end of the bar. “Cathy, we missed you. Team on a road trip?”

That got a laugh out of Hiram. “Ginny, did I hear the idea of a television monitor behind the bar? She should ask me, after all, I own the place.”

Cathy looked thoughtful, “That's a great idea, most patrons will go to the stage to watch, but for the others, like grumpy here and me, we can watch the acts from the comfort of our bar stools.”

“Speaking of acts, I understand a new act may be joining us on Saturdays. Is that true, Ginny?” asked Hiram.

I went red again.

Cathy giggled (he must shave his legs) “I guess her color answers your question, Hiram.”

I found a reason to go to the other end of the bar and sliced some limes and opened a jar of cherries.

It didn't work, I could still hear Cathy and Hiram's laughter. About this time Bobbi came back saying it was done, a monitor screen would be going in tonight.

Last call came, I grabbed my duffel bag with my suit and six-inch heeled boots and headed for Jean's dressing room.

Jean was already there sipping on a cold diet coke.

“Just leave on your panty thong Ginny, you'll be wearing a bikini over the suit so we won't bruise your modesty. Besides, when you sweat, this will keep the suit drier.”

“Sweat?” I asked, “I'll work up a sweat doing this?”

“Oh yeah, I lose three or four pounds a night from sweating, that's why I drink so much spring water between acts. Hop into your suit Toni, and let's get started,” Jean ordered.

I did as she said. After pulling on those boots, it took a few steps to catch my balance. Wow, look at me, I'm now almost six feet tall!

Jean had me strut around a bit, wiggling my bum as I went. It was kind of fun.

“Now the pole” Jean said. “Think of the pole as your lover, you can't wait for him, you need to heat him up! That's it, side to side and up and down. Like this kid, watch me.

I went back to the pole and did it more like Jean.

Shit! From the darkness in the lounge came applause! Jean called for the house lights and there was twenty or more workers sitting around Hiram and Cathy. I wanted to die! I searched frantically for a magicians escape hatch, damn! No luck.

I heard the announcer saying, “Toni and Terri the Tiger, ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together one more time for our tigers.”
By this time, I was over my embarrassment. I took Jean's hand and we curtsied to our fans.

I was surrounded by my friends who congratulated me on my performance.

Mr Logan hugged me and whispered in my ear, at $500 a night, we'll make a fortune. You and Jean are going to be famous in this industry.

Now I'm not sure I wanted to be famous in the stripper industry. Industry? Stripping is an industry, like Ford or General Motors?

Whatever, I quickly took off Toni and joined everyone wearing my tiny skirt and five inch heels that I wore behind the bar. Suddenly I stopped. Shoot! How much different was the tiger suit to what I wore every night? Jean was right, I would have as much on as I always did. Suddenly I heard the show's announcer on the PA.

“Meet Toni the Tiger folks. Performing every Saturday night, for your entertainment pleasure.”

Now dressed, I walked back, laughing along with everyone else. To my surprise, I saw Ariana in the background waving and jumping up and down.

I walked over and gave her a quick hug.

“Ginny, you were great.” she said, “I was able to video it on my cell, and sent it to Wendy. I hope you don't mind.”

What could I say other than 'thank you'?

Jean tapped me on my shoulder, “Come on 'Toni' we need to go home and get some sleep.”

I said good night to everyone, and followed Jean to the car.

We were half-way home before I asked Jean if I really looked okay.

“You were more than okay my dear, you were great. I was more surprised then you were, Ginny. Look, if you come on stage wearing that bikini, the tippers in the audience will think you're tattooed like me. Just stay at the pole, don't get too close to the patrons.”

I mulled that over. When I got home, I'd look at the video Ariana sent to Wendy. Wendy! I hope she and Ellen would be asleep when I came in.

Jean and I air-kissed, with her promising to call in the late morning so we could go over what she wanted me to do. Before she drove off, she reminded me to wear the suit to work, with a cover up so not to cause accidents on the highway.

I tiptoed into the house, but suddenly The Rolling Stones' “Satisfaction” blared from the darkness, the lights went on and I was facing two grinning females holding folded one dollar bills in their hands.

“Oh you guys are real funny, the music was bad enough, but the folded money that's too much. And you Wendy, what do you know about folded money?”

Wendy handed me a flavored sparkling water.

“Watch yourself on this,” Wendy said, as she handed her cell to me.“Aunt Ginny, you looked great!”

I watched the video twice, not believing my eyes the first time. I really looked great, sexy, like I was making love to that three inch brass pole!

Well, we'd see how good I did with a room full of partial drunks whooping and whistling at me. Hum, Logan said only one of Jean's appearances. But I'd have the suit on all night behind the bar. $500 is $500, after all.

We all went to bed finally at 4 AM. I could sleep in and so could they. Ellen still had her riding lesson at nine o'clock in Newbury though.

To be continued.


Many thanks to Bronwen Walsh for her encouragement and correcting typos and sentence structure, without her assistance, this story would not exist.

Special thanks to Tanya Allen for the use of her book "The Candy Cane Club" in my story.


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This story is 1569 words long.