Sue Pays For A Private Dance

It felt oddly surreal. Sue Storm handed over her emergency credit card, the one under her fake ID name she normally kept for S.H.I.E.L.D. operations. The billfold was still in her pocket, but the waitress escorted her to the back room. Subdued violet lighting, a large, comfortable chair with a little stage set before it. The glass of bubbly was poured before Sue could protest, and she sipped it cautiously, wanting to be sober for this.

The young Asian woman stepped in. Sloe-eyed, graceful, movement sure. She had done a quick costume change, a simple white thong bikini that contrasted strongly against her dark skin, yet complemented her short dyed-blonde hair. The clear heels gave her height and a graceful emphasis to her calves. The stripper strode toward Sue with a smile on her face, and Sue studied her makeup. White around the eyes and lips, now, outlined with blue.

Yet this close, Sue could see other things. The discreet New York University tattoo on her upper arm. The tell-tale stretch marks around the sides of her breasts and the flat plane of her stomach, which couldn't be seen when she was on stage. No ring on her left hand, not even a shadow where one had been.

"Where are you from, Nissa?" Sue asked.

"Newark," the voice had a New Jersey accent, a bit nasal. Local girl. "Mom's from Vietnam, Dad's Filipino Chinese."

Sue watched as Nissa stood before her. A soft beat began to play, like a distant drumming, and the stripper swayed and shook her ass. So close that Sue could see the Asian characters engraved on her lower back. A part of her wondered what they signalled. A name? A declaration?

"What do you study?" the Invisible Woman asked, and tried to relax. Eyes fixated on that rump.

"I'm going for my MBA," Nissa said, without missing a beat. She turned and leaned down low. Her breasts hung like ripe fruits. Hands behind her. Dark eyes sought Sue's, a teasing smile on those painted lips. "You know the rules, right? You can't touch me, but I can touch you."

Sue nodded, softly. Her fingers suddenly sweaty around the stem of the wine glass.

"How old is your child?" she asked, suddenly curious. Nissa froze, momentarily.

"Six months," she said. Then added. "Mama watches her when I'm working."

Single mother. Stripping her way through college. Add a **** addiction and she'd be three-for-three on stereotypes. Yet Sue couldn't see any needle tracks, the eyes that met hers were clear, not dilated, and there were no broken vessels that would suggest some other ****.

"How did you get started?" Sue asked, curious.

Nissa grabbed the arms of the chair. She raised her left leg and set one heel on the back of the chair. Leaned forward. Through the thin white cloth, Sue could clearly see the outline of Nissa's pussy, the suggestive folds of her lady garden like a topographic map of a valley. A faint waft of perfume assailed Sue as Nissa gyrated to the beat, humped the air inches from Sue's face.

"I took ballet classes in grade school. Hip hop dancing in high school. Was minoring in modern dance when I got pregnant. After my daughter was born, I started taking pole dancing classes at the Y, to get back into shape. The instructor told me about this place, there was a contest—I won. The owner offered me a job. That was a month ago."

"A month," Sue said. She thought about what that would be like. Coming to a place like this, during the off hours, the day. Taking her clothes off for money. Showing off hard-won skills, a svelte and athletic body. It sent a shiver down her spine. Sue had never imagined herself doing anything like that, and yet...she could not deny the way it triggered her sense of adventure.

With impressive agility, Nissa lifted both legs into the air, supported only by her arms on the chair. Sue watched as she turned around, the tramp stamp came back into view. When the legs came back down, Nissa's knees rested on the back of the chair, the thighs almost touching Sue's ears. If Nissa had any pubic hair, they would have tickled Sue's nose; as it was, the soft material of the stripper's thong brushed against Sue's face as she moved up and down...and through the perfume, Sue could smell the pussy there, hot and wet.

It made her wet too.

"Two hundred," Nissa whispered. "And I'll take the panties off and grind on your face."