Later that night at the club, I tripped off how easy it was for me to drop a grand on shoes during my shopping spree with Diane. I spent a lot more than Diane, but I used the grand to cop two pairs of Prada stilettos. Then we went to this boutique that sold Le Perla lingerie. Diane’s mouth dropped when I easily laid three grand on the counter to pay for a lace bra with a matching panty and garter set.

“Are you crazy?” she had asked.

“It’s for my show,” I said as the salesclerk picked up her pace, hoping Diane wouldn’t change my mind.

“At the club?” she asked in bewilderment. “Hmmm! I wish like hell I’d spend that kind of paper to shake my ass for those losers,” Diane sucked her teeth.

I didn’t respond right away, but in my mind, I pointed to that extra effort as to why I was so different from Diane and the rest of the dancers. Considering all I spent on the spree, I knew I’d go to work with a vengeance-no wallet was safe with me on the prowl.

Halfway through my act, to my surprise when I went to the edge of the stage, there was a woman calling me with her eyes. She was all but drooling as she stared at me longingly. I slid to her on my knees, steadily working my hips like we were the only ones in the room. She was loving every moment of it. Each time I wiggled she stuffed a crisp, new twenty into my thong.

“You sexy as fuck,” she said when I leaned over to shake my titties in her face. She stroked at me and I scooted beyond her reach. I loved playin’ with girls ’cause it drove the niggas insane and made them drop major paper.

I went to work another section of the stage before returning to my faithful fan. This time I turned around and spread my cheeks so she could stuff more twenties into my garter. She didn’t disappoint. When she reached up to rub my breasts, I moved out of her way and rubbed them for her, squeezing my nipples for good measure.

I had her hot and wet and I knew it.