Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 22903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Then, there are my favorite costumes: the look-alike Armani suits for the ‘billionaires’ dance set. It’s inspired by Fifty Shades of Grey, but Christian Grey these men are not because at the end, the dancers rip off their suits so that they’re wearing nothing but bow ties and cuffs. It’s classic Chippendales and trust me, the manly bulges get the women screaming once more. Hell, quite a few ladies have fainted during Thunder Strike shows, so we’ve had to call the paramedics more than once. In fact, sometimes the paramedics just hang out backstage because they know there’s a good chance someone’s going to hyperventilate and require medical assistance at some point during the revue.
But it’s all in good fun, and Thunder Strike’s the most popular male show on the Strip. They say it makes loads of money for the hotel, but I’m just a lowly wardrobe assistant, so I wouldn’t know.
I hum while sifting through the costumes, examining them for damage and sweat stains, marking problem areas with tape and even pulling some items off the rack for additional dry-cleaning if needed. Goodness, this particular banana hammock is torn at the crotch, and I have a feeling I know who it belongs to. It’s this new guy nicknamed Thor, whose package is so huge that his tip literally pokes out and hangs down to his knee. Oh yeah, it’s a challenge for us wardrobe assistants, and trust me, Thor knows how to dance to make it swing like a pendulum too.
But that’s the thing—dancing. I love to dance even though I’m a curvy girl, and sometimes, I wish I could get on-stage myself. Not in a Speedo of course. Instead, I’ve always wanted to be a Vegas showgirl in those slinky, glittery outfits, high heels, and feather crowns. I want to do high-kicks to show off my long legs, and then maybe a little strip tease just for fun. Not a full-on striptease, oh no, because I’d be too embarrassed. But maybe a little shimmy here, and a come-hither smile there.
But who am I kidding? It won’t ever happen because at 5’4”, I’m too short for the job. Showgirls generally have to be 5’7” to 5’8” in order to create the right visual when they dance in a line, and let’s be honest. Those girls are lithe and beautiful, whereas I’m pudgy and dumpy with a few extra pounds. I definitely don’t have a showgirl physique, and even if I could diet my way to a smaller size, what’s the point? It’s not like I could grow three inches.
Still, I’ve always loved moving to the beat, and suddenly, inspiration strikes. Everyone’s gone for the night. It’s silent here backstage, and of course, the practice rooms should be empty too. This would be the perfect time to dance by myself without anyone seeing.
I put a silvery tie back on the costume rack and then slink down the empty hallway. The fluorescent lights flicker a bit as I come upon the rehearsal rooms. Deftly, I open one door and peer inside. It’s empty, dark, and deserted, with absolutely no one in sight.
Perfect.
Before I even realize it, I’ve slunk inside and turned on the little stereo system. A jazzy samba plays, and my hips sway to the beat as I lift my arms with bliss. What’s the harm in enjoying myself? They always say “dance like no one’s watching,” so this is my chance right?
But what people don’t realize is that I want to do more than dance. I want to do a little showgirl routine that includes taking off my clothes, and slowly, I begin to strip sensuously, revealing my curves as I sway in front of the mirror. Big breasts, thick hips, and a glistening pussy. It’s incredibly sultry, and I giggle as I look at myself in the mirror. No one’s here … so I’m going to enjoy myself to the max.
2
STONE
I tuck my hands into the pockets of my jeans as I skulk down an empty hallway, drifting like a ghost. Well, that is if ghosts could be 6’4” and 220 lbs. Ghosts are wraithlike and intangible, and yeah, I’m solid and muscular, so I guess I’m not very ghost-like, come to think of it.
But strolling through the hotel late at night is a habit of mine because it’s quiet this time of night, and I like to see what belongs to me. As the owner of the Corinthian Hotel, I like to walk my territory, and 3 a.m. is as good of a time as any. It’s peaceful and only the occasional greeting from a bellhop disturbs my wanderings. My mind clears during these nightly strolls, and I’m able to step back a bit and view my pride and joy from a different angle during these walks, even if I’m still on premises.