Stage name ‘Plenty’ – have I not seen my fair share by now? Obviously not!
Everybody’s Favorite Erotic Author….
Stage name ‘Plenty’
Have I not seen my fair share by now?
Being home alone is okay for a time, well, a week is long enough, so I need to go out.
As luck has it, Bo rings to tell me she needs my help and will be dragging me to one of her client’s private clubs. She’d been ringing every day trying to get me interested in a meetup.
Just to fill you in if you don’t know me already, I have a friend who helps promote private members only clubs to those who have more money than sense. Bo takes over these events when a club has a more interesting and unusual theme night.
When she gets busy, I always help her out. In honesty, I can’t say no to her on a professional or personal level. She’s a bit older than me, and when I first moved to the South of France, she took me under her G-String, and we have been close ever since. Nothing permanent though, which we both like.
“I’m dragging you along because there is a very interesting striƥƥer I want you to meet,” she said in her short and to the point phone call. Drag me there, hell no, once she says the words Interesting Striƥƥer, I’m waiting at the door for her to pick me up!
Yes, I have a fetish for striƥƥers, a forbidden fruit for me and when you have a friend who gets access to sit in and approve auditions for upcoming promotions I’m all in, and my friend Bo knows it! In fact, Bo takes her pleasure out of watching me watch the striƥƥers.
We watch the acts with the lights full on in the club, a different experience from the norm. To Bo and I, a few of the other promoters and to the performers themselves, it can be a little off-putting. Usually, but not for me anymore. Lately, I’ve learned I get some macabre sense of pleasure out of the fear of each performer, (we will explore this another time!).
On the other side of this equation, when a performance is outstanding, I’m completely caught up in the pure magic of the moment where I get the chance to see it all. To me, the performer is laid bare in more than the obvious ways.
The first two striƥƥers are no good, it’s a shared opinion between us all. At this point, I generally don’t focus on faults, but neither one had their heart and soul in it which does break me up somewhat as I know there is a high probability these rejects will end up in the wrong profession.
One of the first two girls came over for some advice. She is genuine, and we invite her to sit and watch the next two acts with us to pick up some tips. We are no experts other than we know a good act when we see it.
Two more to go and our girl’s last. Bo tells me, “Oh and please don’t pick up anymore strays you’ll get a reputation.” I look her square in the eyes, “Oh, ignore me and forget what I just said.” I never do, I’m like a dog with a bone and want to know more about her statement. My glare says it all, and she coughs up her explanation.
“All these girls are looking out for someone like you. In fact, after the last one, a few of the girls around here look out for you and your….”
“But I don’t date striƥƥers, I forbid myself, and if you’re referring to Juliet, she was an Assistant Manager.”
“Then maybe it’s your sister who is the one.”
I fall silent and let my chin rest on my shoulder hoping Bo will fill in the gaps yet at the same time wanting her to drop the subject. I’m saved as striƥƥer number three comes to the stage, and the music kicks in.
I look the other way to my right side as the noise of a chair scrapes up close to me, and the reject striƥƥer leans forward with her hands on her knees. She has a black silk gown covering her, in parts.
The third act is taking her time and picks us out as her focus point. I half-recognize her and ask Bo if she has experience, and she comes back with a seχy sounding “yes” with a giggle. Her dance is hypnotic, this girl gets a tick in the box from me. If she were a singer she’d be Béyonce with her great moves, then she does something special.
With her a$$ bent towards us she slaps it so hard, they must have heard it out in the parking lot, and I scream ‘Holy FuƱk!’ Bo grasps my leg, and she feels it too, in fact, I’m sure she’ll want to take this girl home if she’s not working tonight.
The hand slap leaves its mark on all, and when she pushes her butt out at us again, I can a see the mark is dark red. We are only a foot distance from the stage, without a table in front of us. Her aroma takes me away.
I half look to my right, “hey, you get this right?” The reject striƥƥer touches her head to mine and says, “What?” — “The smell? That’s the difference.” Our eyes lock, and hers are all pupils. “She is good, and you need to be like her but your own version otherwise you won’t make it.”
I’m drawn back to act three, who hasn’t finished, and no one is stopping her. We all want more.
“Help me,” she pleads.
“Do you like this woman, would you have seχ with her or does she arouse you?” When you are up there doing your performance, you need to get your audience wanting you and you wanting them. If your audience senses this in your act, you’re winning, and if they can smell your arousal too, you will always get work.
“Look, go and ask for another go at this, beg whoever you need to and get back up there and fully engage in the moment. Imagine you are doing a striƥ for your very own existence,” I tell her.
“She’s not my type.”
“Then think of someone who is.”
“Can I think of you, Olivia?” — Oh, fuƱk! French girl speaking my name, Red Alert! It gets me every time. “Sure, whatever it takes you to get another shot.”
Number three has just finished her routine, and my heart is racing. Bo takes my hand and whispers, “good enough to take her home, huh? Did you see the brand she left on her own a$$? I just want more.”
She’s not wrong.
“The girl I want you to see is up next, and if she tops the last act, then you’re going to have to take me straight back to your place for good seeing to.”
I’m with her totally and almost say it out loud, but before I can say anything, we are taken up a notch…
“Hi, I’m Plenty,” my eyes pull to the stage, and I look her up and down, long and slow and more times than I should, she is indeed plenty enough for me.
Wow! I like the voluptuous look, she has the perfect figure. I’m instantly jealous, why can’t my skinny a$$ frame take that look. She is all Bo has played her up to be.
She takes her audience without effort, and I’m caught up in her private dance for me, to which I’d completely zeroed into. I have these difficulties where reality and fantasy merge into one. I have to hold myself down in case I act out. Right at this moment, I want to take my clothes off too, the heat is rising from all sides. The reject striƥƥer is back tight up against my right side, and Bo is leaning heavily on me too.
Plenty is as close to us as anyone else in the room, and I feel a seχual magnetism with all of us being pulled in. I’m fixated on her, and the whole place could be falling down around me and I would never notice.
She leaves the stage all too quickly for my liking. The striƥƥer sitting by my side gives her bad news, she is not allowed a second chance. I wish her luck, and she leaves with my eyes following her to the door. I sure hope she learns something today and takes her new knowledge to better herself.
We make our way to the bar, and I have a long glass of water which seems to evaporate at my hot touch. I’m sure Bo is panting between her short sentences. “Plenty will be right out to talk with us.” The club owner asks if we are happy with the selection presented and we both nod.
We all take a seat at a booth. I lead and ask Plenty what I can do for her. I’m hoping for a straight answer that will get me what I want. But before she speaks, I notice she’s wearing a wedding ring on her left hand, “you’re married,” I blurt out.
Folding my arms, “so what is it?” I stalled in mid-air, and Bo jumps in to rescue me before I crash head first into the ground.
“Plenty wants to be a character in one of your books.”
Her mouth opens once more, but I beat her to it again, “there is only one way this can happen, and you’re married, so it’s not possible.” Her mouth curls up. Wow. I’m in real trouble here and close to caving, a striƥƥer with a smile like this, I’m toast.
I stare down at my re-filled glass as if I can find some additional answers.
“Olivia, can we at least talk?” Oh, fuƱk, my name off her lips sounds better than ever.
I shrug my shoulders as my chin pulls up and offers the downward curve of my mouth, in my best attempt at the European gesture for ‘Whatever!’
“My husband is very open to my wants and needs. I dance naƙed to fulfill my urges, but I never sleep with other men, only women. Yes, my husband has a mistress, and I like to have one too.”
I know only too well, the French man want it all, a beautiful wife to give him beautiful children and a lover or two on the side. It is embedded in the culture here in France, and there is even a department in most of the hospitals which will help a woman get back into shape in all areas after she has a child.
La rééducation périnéale is the cornerstone of the French health service postnatal care, and as soon as a woman gives birth, she is encouraged to get her man back in bed for fear losing him to another temptation. The French health care system will help a woman retain good muscle tone in her pelvic floor and give her back her pre-pregnant je ne sais quoi. So, believe me when I say French men are not for me. French women, oui!”
This is not a problem for Plenty. She’s already worked it out and is living her life as she pleases, “why are you married?” I ask.
“It’s good to have a pen¡s available whenever I want it.” I can’t agree more.
But do I want Plenty? She is the ideal match for my needs and has a body to die for, but am I rushing headlong into another relationship? Jane has only been gone a week, and even though she’d understood my needs, I’m not too sure I do myself. I’ve seen plenty of action this year already, and we are fast approaching the half-way point. I’ve been bedding lovers like it’s going out of fashion and since before the start of the New Year. And on top of this, Bo is sure to stay over tonight after what we’ve just witnessed.
I settle on setting a couple of dates for drinks with Plenty in a bid to get to know her better. I will let you know soon how we get on!
So, this weekend Bo and I are going to Italy for a party on a private beach. If you remember last week, I let you know we were due to have our very own exclusive Beach Reads free book promotion this weekend, where my favorite character Scarlett gets to break new ground in the Caribbean with her girlfriend and another guest, for an FFM no-holds-barred special.
More free books, yay!
(The events in this story took place some years ago.)
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Note: This book contains characters from The Kings of Guardian and A Heart’s Desire.
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