I crawled over and spread my legs in a V, so he could see how good it looked. He sprinkled some more ones onto me. I flipped over into the splits, left leg forward grabbing my ankle. I looked him dead in his face, everyone around us was just a blur.
I didn’t know who this nigga was, but he was fine as hell. He looked at me like we knew each other from another life and I was the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. I danced for him, in front of everyone. He didn’t stop throwing ones till I was almost off stage.
“Come to my booth when you’re done”, he said and smiled. He pulled out a $50 bill from his pocket and put it in between my fishnet bra. “We’re in the corna”, he pointed and then disappeared into the crowd.
All of my senses were going off in my body and my palms got sweaty, this feeling was familiar. I went back to dancing and entertaining the rest of the crowd, while the sweepers cleaned up and bagged the money on stage.
The DJ hopped on the mic and introduced the new girl coming on stage and for me to head to the small pole. I walked towards the back stage, just as Peaches was walking off. “That’s my money too Miss Toronto, don’t forget”, she said just before she faded into the crowd.
I ignored her, grabbed the pole and squatted real low facing the pole. I started twerking and danced for the group of ladies that were in the front, by the stage. They looked like they were at a bachelorette party or something. They grabbed my thong and put ones in my fishnets. The DJ came back on the mic announcing the new girl and I came off the stage.
Why the fuck does that big bitch Peaches think she gets some of my money? What the fuck? The rules are, whatevers thrown on your stage you get to keep. Unless it was made together, then you go halves. If it’s put on you, you can keep it but if it’s thrown on the stage, they sweep it and give it to you after they take a 10% cut. I know they’re not going to split my shit, they couldn’t.
I had to find French, to let her know about homeboy so we could go to his booth. I pushed myself over to where I last left her and seen she was dancing for this guy. She had our stuffed drawstring bag wrapped around her wrist. The lights reflected off her crystals outfit and were jumping around the club as she moved her body.
“Heeeeeeey party people”, I yelled. I walked towards them doing the bachata.
“Heeeyyyy girlll”, she responded before he could. “That was a nice fucking stage show. You looked so pretty”, she said, blowing me a kiss.
“Thanks bishh, changeroom time?” I asked, not leaving any air for the trick to speak.
“Yup changeroom, cause we need to get the other baaaag”, she said, doing a little happy dance.
“I’m going to find you later”, she said to the guy, blowing him a kiss.
We shoved our way through to the changeroom, the club was now packed with people. French pulled the door open and we walked down the stairs. I opened my locker and put the money that was inside my fishnet in my work bag. Then I grabbed another drawstring bag, put on some deodorant, my perfume and closed the locker.
“The guy that was tipping me on stage wants us to go to his booth”, I said quietly.
French was finishing freshening up also, “aight, then let’s go then”.
“I think he’s in the corner, by vip”, I said as I started walking up the steps. We followed the pounding music back onto the floor and headed to the corner booth. There were a whole bunch of flashy fly niggas standing and throwing money on two strippers.
“Oh shit, there’s girls dancing already”, said French, surprised.
I walked forward, “I don’t care”, I said. My eyes searched the crowd till I recognized him. Standing against the booth, throwing money in the air.
I nodded and caught his attention, he smiled and motioned for us to come over. He tapped the strippers, whispered something in her ear and they started to clean up the money on the floor. French came from behind and stood at my side. She was making eye contact with one of his friends. The girls grabbed their money and gave us a look before they left.
“What up doe Toronto?”, he grinned and threw some money in the air. “And what’s your name?”, he nodded to French.
“My names French and do you guys want us to dance or talk?”, she asked sarcastically as she walked over to his friend.
“Both”, he said looking me dead in my eye, my nipples instantly got hard. He had this mischievous look about him, like he was so full of life and trouble.
I walked in front of him, leaned back and bent over. Rolling down my spine, I grabbed both of my ankles and dropped down into a squat. I put my hands on my knees and looked up at him. He sprinkled one’s down on me as I twisted my body to the music.
I stood back up, closed my eyes and got lost in the essence of the night. The music, the smell of lust, the taste of tension on my tongue. Tonight was euphoric, the energy felt like being in the right place at the right time. And I could forget it all, nothing and no one else existed except for us inside this club right now. I leaned back and rubbed my body onto his as he threw ones into the air. The luxury of the unspoiled.
“Last call, last call”, the dj came on the mic.
“And it’s not Toronto, it’s Royaal by the way. And -“, I asked with a bit of an attitude in my voice, just before he cut me off.
“Oh I know Toronto, do you want a drink?”, he asked smoothly in my ear. He was pointing to all the bottles they had on the table.
“What’s your name? Cause the only reason i’m still talking to you right now, is because I know you’re not a pimp.” I said harshly.
He laughed, “oh yeah and how do you know that?”
“Because pimps don’t ever come up to the stage, like ever”.
“You’re a bad little jit”, he said.
I turned around to face him, “what is your name?”
He tilted his head and laughed under his breath, “Packs.” He really was a cutie, but he seemed like he liked games.
“Why do they call you Packs? And why do you have so much money?”, I asked and laughed.
He turned me back around and put his lips to my ear, “it’s a long story. I’ll explain if you and your homegirl come to my after party?”
I chuckled, and looked over at French getting tipped by a few of his niggas. “After party?”, I asked myself silently.
“Let me talk to my girl first,” I said.
I twisted my waist and rubbed my ass on his dick. I bent over and subtly started putting the money in the drawstring bag. French followed my lead and started picking up the money off the ground too.
“Where’s this after party? You know you have to pay us right?” I turned around and asked.
The girls were beginning to walk off the floor. The DJ was going to come on the mic soon and tell us to clear it.
“It’s at my spot downtown, we always have parties lil mama. You can ask around when you go down to the changeroom. And obviously we’re going to pay you and your homegirl. I’ve been paying you all night haven’t I? I can drive yall ova, downtown is just like 10-15 mins.” He offered, but I wasn’t too sure about that.
“Can l get all the pretty ladies off the floor please, all the girls off the floor”, commanded the DJ over the mic.
“Give me a second”, I said to him and walked towards French.
French was coming over, “they want us to do some after party.” She was biting her lip, she really loved it over here cause it was niggas with money who WEREN’T all pimps. She bent over and swept up the stray ones.
Detroit niggas love spending some money in the strip clubs, that’s one thing for certain. The States see the strip club as a culture more than anything. New hip hop artist that are trying to blow, will bring their music to the club. And if the strippers like it and can make the crowd enjoy themselves, you got a banger.
I bent over and grabbed up the money and stuffed it in the drawstring. “I know, he told me too and I’m guessing that means you want to go”, I whispered and laughed.
“Uh yesss, these are the niggas with money you aint gotta worry about. If you haven’t been paying attention. They throw this party all the time but you have to be an “invited stripper”. Member, I was telling you about it before”, she whispered back and shoved more money into the bag.
“They’re literally always here in some corner showing out. But they do all look the same and it does get packed in here…”, she faded off into space.
“So you gonna give me your number or i’m gonna drive you guys over, or both?” He asked, as he walked back over interrupting us.
“Yup, she’ll give you her number and then you text it so we can text you our rates”, she smiled looking up at him.
He laughed, pulled out his phone, opened the contacts and handed it to me. I got up, put my phone number in and handed his phone back to him. The lights were on now so everyone could see each other.
“See you soon”, he said as he walked back over to his people who had moved over towards the door.
We finished picking up the money and headed towards the changeroom.
“And what the hell was that with home girl on stage?”, French asked in a funny voice. They had turned off the music, so she was speaking low.
“Oh my God, oh yeah girl that bitch wants half the money I made on stage. She like “that’s my money too miss Toronto don’t forget.”” I quietly mocked as I opened the change room door.
“Oh hell no, not the big-bitch trying to take your money”, French whispered confused and angry.
I laughed, “Girrrrl, hurry the fuck up and get dressed cause we’re not doing this tonight.”
We walked down the stairs to our lockers and put the bag of ones on the counter. French sat and kept watch of it, as I was getting my stuff from my locker.
“Listen here you Toronto bitch”, her words came across the room before she did.
“You can give me half right now or half out in the parking lot but you owe me half”, she said as she walked towards me. She stopped a few feet away.
I was nervous as fuck considering this bitch was 2x-3x bigger than me. And she just looked like a crazy bitch especially the way she was carrying on when we first got here. But I know I made mad money on stage and I’m not giving it up. And if I let her pick on me once, this bitch will never stop.
“Why the fuck do you think it’s your money?” I closed my locker, turned my head and screwed up my face. “Packs threw it on me, so where do you come from? I don’t know what you’re talking about but you can’t just talk to me any type of way. If Packs wanted you to have it, he would’ve gave it to you.” I said back, raising my voice.
At this point, girls in the changeroom were gathering around. The house mom came bursting over, throwing up her hands.
“PEACHES! Every fucking time, girls can’t buy cause all you want to do is fight fight. Go see Tony”, she ordered.
“I didn’t even do anything, what the fuck mom? This bitch is trying to steal my money and I have to go see Tony. What the fuck man!” She yelled as she pushed past the girls to go upstairs.
“She can’t even steal from you on stage, they count your guys fucking money. They decide who’s getting what”, she said back, unimpressed as she shooed her upstairs.
“For this exact reason, can’t leave it up to you bitches. They’ll give what’s yours to you and what’s hers to her, that’s it.” She said as she walked back over to her table.
I looked back at French and we started laughing, “what the fuck is going on tonight?”
“Peaches is just crazy! I know it’s none of my business but be careful with Packs. You guys are from Toronto right? I saw you guys from when you first started coming. I let you borrow my lotion and baby wipes that one time during the summer.” We all laughed, she was a pretty tall lightskin chick, I’ve seen her around before but we don’t really talk.
“OH yeah”, French said.
“Yeah, um anyways, Packs is a known stepper out here, like the D’s top shooter. I mean he’s a cool guy, always throws money and his parties are lit, but if that’s not your thing..I’d just be really careful.” She swallowed and then crossed her arms, “there’s always something going down at that party.”
“Bitchhhh, let them live alive a little c’mon”, said this tall fine dark skin. “You make dundoes at Packs parties and they’re fun as shit. Little mama scare of a lil party and gun play”, she laughed.
Traffick’d 