The girls use the pole for dancing, and sometimesthe guys used it. There is a shelf above the back of the stage which supportsspeakers and lighting. It was also supporting me at the moment. The lightswere dim, I was wearing black and was above the line of sight, invisible.I had been practicing with Ted's sound guy and my entrance was timed prettywell.9:00. I leapt from my perch. A thunderbolt crackedfrom the speakers, followed by a minor chord. A spot light made acircle in front of the pole. Simultaneous with its arrival, I landed inthe middle of the spot. I was wearing tight black pants, bloused blackshirt, cape, hood, mask, gloves, and jack boots. I carried a short quirt.I stood for a moment, hands on hips, surveying the audience. Themusic picked up tempo a bit. I strode back and forth across the stage,pausing occasionally to examine the audience. I danced over to the pole.I had bolted a pair of manacles (real ones, they locked) high up on thepole, dangling by about a. I leaned across the gap between the tables and stared straight at him, parting my lips. "Open wide..." he said softly. I took the food into my mouth and swallowed it slowly. It was delicious; just like him. I licked my lips slowly as he watched me. The sudden sexual tension was thick in the air. His eyes darkened even more as he dropped his gaze to my cleavage. "Nice," he said "I so much prefer the real thing." I smiled and allowed myself to check his body out. Muscular thighs encased in jeans, pale blue shirt outlining a spectacular chest. This guy was fit as well as good looking. Too damned sexy, he was pretty much my perfect man. "Where have you been all my life?" I asked teasingly. "Waiting for you?" he answered to my surprise. Our conversation was interrupted as the blond returned to their table. My husband also returned a minute later, having finished his phone call. My husband asked the waiter for another bottle of wine just as the sexy stranger stood up and disappeared.
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