Meet in the middle

I finally turn to face you fully, my knees still pulled up, my arms wrapped around them. My face is pink but my eyes are steady. "I'm not gonna lie, Joe. That stings. Not because I think you're gonna leave me for a stripper. But because this pole is ours. It's the thing you watch me practice on. The thing you complimented me on tonight. And now you want to hand it to someone else for a party."

I let the silence stretch, then I say, softer, "Can I at least have a say in what she does? Like... what songs she uses, what moves she performs? I know what looks good on this pole. I've practiced it enough."

"Of course you can! I want you to be comfortable with this otherwise we won't do it. You can have full directorial control over her performance. The only thing the guys want is to be able to choose the outfits she wears" joe responds eagerly.

I let out a slow breath as I stare at the pole again. The brass catches the light, gleaming like it's waiting for a performance. My performance. Not someone else's. "Full control," I repeat softly, testing the weight of it. "And they just get to pick the outfits."

I look back at you, my face unreadable for a moment before I nod. "Okay. Fine. I'll do it. But I'm setting the rules, Joe. She does exactly what I say. The songs, the pacing, the moves — all mine. If she steps out of line, she's out. And I get to talk to her before the party. I need to know what she's comfortable with, but more importantly, she needs to know what I expect in my home."

I hug my knees a little tighter. "And you're not watching her like you watch me. This isn't practice for me. This is damage control. I'm not letting some stranger make our living room feel cheap." A pause. Then quieter: "I just need to know I'm still yours after it's over."

“You’ll always be mine. I’m just watching a performance with her but with you, I’m watching the woman I love do what she loves” Joe responds making my heart skip a beat. He always knows what to say to me.