Dreams to Fire chapter 10

Curvy indulgence walks beyond the front door, and attention immediately glues to her. Plan C could use a renovation to give it that “Gentleman’s Club” feel, instead of being a beat-down Strip Joint. At least the music choices aren’t too bad. She’s been in here before to audition, but it wasn’t crowded like it is now.

Fy glances at the poster ad for her strip show on the wall, the one she helped create. It’s a picture of her “dressed” in a sexy black and red outfit, advertizing both her body and her mind: “Come set your eyes on every side of Fyre, at both her Saturday night strip show, and her passionate philosophy website: Fysblogs.com.”

A crowd is here. Good. More audience members means—oh God yes, who is that? He’s gorgeous. Something is different about him. Finally, someone with a real-man aura, of honor, potency, and discipline.

An impressive hunk of man stands off to the side of a stripper stage, at a towering six foot eleven inches. His skin is true black and flawless, his bald head reveals a strong-shaped skull, and his ripped muscle-bound body is sculpted by animalistic hardness, bulky but not excessive. He’s dressed in a black muscle shirt with black slacks. His handsome chiseled face is powerful and calm, with an intense presence of intelligence and awareness. Every ripple of muscle reflects his sharpened always-moving mind. His massive arms are crossed over his pecks, and the obsidian like irises of his brown eyes maintain a nonstop movement to check everything out. Dancers, people in the crowd, potential situations long before they happen, who walks in and out of here, the stunning redhead that just walked in dressed to impress.

Their eyes lock, and Fy stares into a beautiful darkness just begging to be lit up. Finally seeing a man she desires beyond just his body—that doesn’t run away—she walks right up to him.

Within his mind Fy is a three dimensional living painting from an artist-god that no amount of time could ever be enough to properly worship. Her mature vixen voice doesn’t hide a thing, “Hi. I’m Fyre, as I’m sure you know. I’ll be doing my show at nine. Are you a bouncer? Cuz… you sure look like one.”

His voice is deep and commanding, holding both humbleness and respect. He defends his territory, while never invading another’s, “I’m a bouncer here, yes. It’s a pleasure to meet you Fyre. My name is Obyron Dakara,” he offers his hand.

“Call me Fy.” Their hands wrap around each others strength. “With a guy like you around I’m going to feel very safe on that stage. I won”t have to worry about any problems with you, will I?”

“You don’t need to worry about a thing.” He gently pulls her shaken hand up to his lips, a feminine yet strong hand with five short fingernails painted black, kisses the back of her hand with a gentleness and respect she didn’t know men were capable of, and releases it. It’s an action Fy finds respectful without being cliché, for he somehow does it in a way that’s perfectly natural to him. “This might not be the best place in town, but it is my place. People know I don’t allow for any crap around here. You just get on that stage, and do what you came here to do. You’ll be safe under my watch Fy.”

“Thank you, Obyron. I’ll be sure to do a few moves just for you.” Her beloved hand shifts some hair behind an ear.

He reads upon her fearless face the kind of delightful thoughts way too naughty to ever speak aloud except in the company of lovers. ”I’ll be watching.”

“I’m sure you will be. Do you like watching? I mean people, in general. Body language. Reading what a person says, far beyond their spoken words.”

“I do. It’s one of the reasons I love this job. It’s amazing how much a person can say without ever speaking a single word.”

“It sure is. I’ve been into body language for a long time—very useful skill,” her eyes wander over him.

“It sure is,” Obyron echoes.

“You obviously don’t have a problem working here. But, I like to get people’s thoughts on stripping. On the adult industry in general. The world of porn. How do you feel about women making money by selling their sexuality?”

“I… everyone needs to make money somehow. That’s just how the world is.”

“True. But I don’t think it’s entirely right. I mean, people should be enjoying, celebrating, and expressing their sexuality in liberated and free natural ways. Not selling their sexuality. Know what I mean?”

”Yes. But isn’t that what you’re about to do?”

“No. I’m not motivated by money. Not one bit.”

“So what does motivate you?”

“Enjoying sexuality as a celebration—not a distraction. Creating arousing yet respectful and gender-empowering entertainment. Erotic, artistic expressions of my desires and dreams. Fulfilling my exhibitionist fantasies, which I’m enjoying more and more. And above all, grabbing and directing people’s attention, so they’ll look at far more than just my body. I’m proving that sexual doesn’t mean shallow, erotic doesn’t mean immoral, and adults-only doesn’t mean idiots-only. I’m an ‘in-your-face’ philosopher on a wide variety of not-sexual serious issues, and I’m bringing my blogs as much attention as possible. I don’t want to just entertain, I want to educate. One step at a time though.”

”That’s, interesting. To say the least. You’re certainly grabbing attention,” he glances away from her at the countless eyes glued onto the red-headed amazonian endowed beauty. “But what are you going to do with the money you make here?”

“A place that does good is going to get a particularly interesting donation. I’m sure someone will be smiling about it.”

A beautiful shade of green light unlike anything he has ever witnessed graces into the darkness of his lonely brown eyes, like an opening door revealing what otherwise would never have been. ”You’re an amazing woman.”

“Thank you. I do what I can. I gotta get ready for my show though, and let you get back to work. It’s been a pleasure meeting you Obyron. I hope we’ll chat again sometime soon.”

“I’m sure we will, and it’s been a pleasure meeting you too. I’ll be watching.”

“I’m sure you will be.”

She takes a few steps backwards, before she turns around, and walks away with way more swing her wide hips than usual. She turns back around to give him a look worth a thousand words, before she disappears beyond his watchful eyes.

Obyron keeps a closer than usual watch on the people in the audience. Many faces he’s not familiar with are in the crowd. The place is packed, packed with potentials.

Red panties, bra. Black thigh high boots with matching extra long gloves. Black pleather top, neck collar, and mini-skirt. Check. My chemical-free makeup for some black eye shadow, and black nails on fingers and toes. Check. And a state of mind ready to rock everyone’s eyes out of there lustful sockets? Mm, he is so beautiful. I bet he’s—check!

“Gentlemen, and Ladies! Are you ready to set your eyes on Fyre? We have a very special treat for you all tonight. This curvy Super-Human red-head with the mysterious all natural super-sized ears has begun a career in nude modeling, the first ever in all of history. But she’s also beginning her career as a stripper right here, right now. Only Plan C has her beyond the screen. Only here will you witness this superpowered, super sexy, super woman, in-the-flesh.”

She strides out on stage as her chosen music booms along with her, and cheers erupt from the audience. Fyre already has a sizable fan following who can’t get enough of her. Purple hair stands out in the crowd, and she smiles directly at Lana, who gives her a happy little wave back.

Fyre grabs the pole.

Every subtle move of her superpowered voluptuous-vixen body is an exquisite expression of the sacred feminine energy, dancing alongside a living exotic dream of all things endlessly satisfying and sensual, lovely and luscious. The proportioned yet impossibly-buxom woman turns on everyone in the crowded room instantly with her curvacious movements of pure salacious enchantment. Every one of the more rowdy audience members remains still for her provocative dance, uncontrollably trapped in her one hundred percent natural sexual presence for pleasure. She radiates erotic energy that is as calming as it enticing, as caring as it is carnal, as authentic as it is alluring, and not one pair of eyes can resist her swaying seductive spell. Everyone is completely caught up inside the wanton grip of her living gracious curves making sweet love to themselves. Everybody worships her visually erogenous experience of eroticism as if it were something divine come down right before their material eyes—something from a place where The Goddess will always dwell. It’s a good thing this masterful mistress of the tease has benevolent intentions, or such tantalizing seduction could easily be used for malevolence.

Over a total of three songs Fyre gradually loses her clothes until only her legs, neck, and arms remain adorned. She repeatedly reveals her fondness of showing off her body by bouncing up and down—where only the parts that should bounce, do bounce.

The Mistress of passion and flame ends her show by blowing a series of playful fiery-blue kisses at the audience, with one directed right at Lana. But before she exits the stage, she turns around, stares directly at Obyron—and gives her ample apple-bottom sculpted ass a hard heard slap. He definitely watches, and he definitely enjoys.

“That… oh, wow. That was the one and only Fyre everyone. She’ll be topless and giving out lap dances till we close. Talk about being hot and bothered, goddamn! And don’t forget, the Fyre will burning on stage again next Saturday. Only at Plan C.”

Backstage, she slips on a pair of lacy red panties. Which will leave Obyron’s usually disciplined eyes with challenging feats of gravity. She walks out onto the floor, spots him, and bounces right over to him.

“Hey there Obyron, so what do you think? How did I do?”

Mouth-sized red nipples, with beyond silver dollar sized areolas so deliciously puffy and soft, scream out on her delightful handfuls of naturally perky statuesque breast flesh, creating curves upon curves upon an erotic angel incarnate. His eyes can’t help themselves. “You, distracted me. That doesn’t happen. You’re an incredible woman. Sexy as you are, interesting.”

“Thanks. That was a lot of fun. I was kinda nervous at the start, but that quickly went away. I felt so safe up there, with you here.”

He pauses. “Well, I’m glad to hear that.”

“What time do you get off?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because I’d like to hang out with you. Talk some more about body language and the adult industry. You’re interesting. And I’m attracted to you.”

“Fyrona, I’ve never dated a woman that dances here. I don’t want things to get complicated.”

“So make an exception, for me. Besides, we both know I won’t be here for long. And Obyron,” she places a graceful hand on his rock hard abs, the kind of abs a woman could use for support all night long, and all day. While her other hand reaches up behind his bald head and gently pulls down, to whisper into his ear—which brings challenges closer, “I don’t let things get complicated. I live my life simple, to the point, with no drama. That’s why I don’t have a man in life right now. Every man I’ve read has struck me as someone who would bring drama and bullshit into my life. Thinking he owns me like some piece of property, that I’m nothing more than a sexual conquest to boost up his pathetic Ego.

“But you strike me as different. You’re a man unto his own right. You’d be comfortable with my career and lifestyle. You wouldn’t think you own me, as you enjoy me. You can be romantic, without being clingy. You could connect with who I am, beyond this body, to know my mind and feel my heart. Faithful, and fun. You would trust me to take care of you, just as I would trust you to take care of me. You could passionately fuck me, while you also authentically love me. You’re respectful, honorable, humble, and… potent. Aren’t you?”

The music bumps in the background, but they only hear those thoughts that most will never admit to. He manages to not totally fumble over his words, “Yes. But, I don’t know. I mean, I too live a drama-free life. I hardly know anyone. I am those things, and I would never cause problems for you, but…”

Her face shifts directly in front of his, her hands still touching him. “It’d be for a simple dinner. Grant me that. Grant yourself that. I won’t push anything on you. I’m simply following my intuition. I have the utmost respect for people, and their choices. There is nothing wrong with some friendship, Obyron.”

His hand gently removes hers from behind his head, and he keeps a soft hold on it. She releases her fingers from his steel-like stomach with a naughty reluctance. “Okay. Dinner. But not here. At a nice place I know. Chinese twenty-four hour restaurant named Yong Yuan. They have great cooks middle of the night, I go there all the time. You get off when the club closes, right? At two AM?”

“Right.”

“Than we’ll be getting off at the same time.” He releases his hand from around hers.

“Perfect. I’ll see ya then Obyron.”

“Fy, call me Obe. That’s my nickname. As in, ‘Oh—would you just—be.’”

Her warm and alluring chuckle once again forces him to regain his composure. “I love it. I should get backstage, and let you get back to work. I’ll see ya later Obe.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

She takes a few steps backward before she turns around and walks away. Before the challenge disappears backstage, she once again turns around to give him a look worth a thousand naughty thoughts. But not because she’s overstating her message. She just wants to admire those muscles again.

She chit-chats a bit with the other women backstage, and while they all seem nice, Fy knows how the world is, and knows the envy has already begun. Except from one.

Fy’s taking a break at her chair, when a petite lively stripper introduces herself, “Fyre? Hi, my name’s Jenna. You’re amazing. That show was so hot. You got the bod, but holy fuck have you got the moves.” Jenna’s voice is pretty and petite, almost innocent, and sounds semi-humorous swearing. With smooth white skin, light brown hair that floats down to her shoulders in waves upon waves, bright blue vibrant eyes, and an attractive face like a drawing of peaceful scenery, she’s immediately beautiful to Fy in both body and personality. She stands out from the other strippers by leaps and bounds.

“Hi. Thanks Jenna. I love erotic dancing, stripping, whatever people want to call it. Makes me feel so sexy.”

“Well you’re definitely sexy! And I just love those ears,” Jenna casually touches them—unaware of the effects that has upon Fyre. The Super-Human suppresses an overwhelming surge of sexual pleasure, managing to not twitch.

Jenna leans in close to an ear and whispers, “Fair warning, most of the women here are bitches. And will stab you in the back as soon as they can. So watch your back. But I’ll be keeping an eye out for you. Super-Humans are awesome to me and I love what you’re doing. It’s long overdue a Super-Human catches the public’s attention. You’re a beautiful woman in every way, and I wish you all the best.”

Fyre stares into her eyes. “Thank you Jenna. It’s good to know that a woman like you is around.” Fy can smell Jenna this close, something sweet and delicate like waking up in a warm field of healthy flowers and summer sunshine to start off a beautiful day.

“Right back at you. You, are a Sex-Goddess. You gotta teach me some of those moves babe.”

Fy giggles. “I will sometime dear. I’m sure you could teach me some too. It’s almost time for me to get back out there though. Nice meeting you, and I hope to see you around.”

“If you ever want to see me around a pole, putting on a show for you, I will. Anytime. And, I saw you chatting with Obe. Good luck. I’ve never seen him with anyone. But he’s gorgeous, and makes sure we’re all kept safe. Once he showed up this place got a lot better. Tons better.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

As soon as the busty beauty walks back out onto the floor countless eyes re-glue to her. Nearly everyone in the audience ignores the other women if favor of Fyre. The line for private lap dances is never ending. The other women already hate her, except for Jenna. There is a difference between envy and jealousy, and Jenna is well aware of it.

Attention continues to pour her way as she maintains the movements eager eyes just can’t resist. Certain dark eyes, she watches back.

Obe watches everyone in the crowd, new faces especially. Even though the place hasn’t had any incidents for awhile, he knows how people can get under the influence. As a bouncer he does all he can to stay one step ahead. That’s his job.

Look on their face. Way they slide a dollar bill against the skin. Way they are dressed. Look in their eyes. His belly should be facing the women he’s looking at, but it’s facing the exit door.

“Enjoying the show honey?”

“Very much.”

“What’s your name?”

“John.”

“Well John, wanna watch me put on a special show just for you?”

“Sure.”

Found one.

Chapter 11