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Showtime Virgin: Chapter 4

May 29, 2014

Tiny beads of sweat began to glisten on the girl’s bare stomach. The stage lights shone down from above, turning the mundane sweat into a fantastic sheen that captivated her fans’ most base desires. The bright halogen lights, combined with her rigorous movements warmed her entire body as well as any sun bed or heat lamp.

Twirling her body around the nearest pole, the corner of her lips pulled upward. Her eyes gleamed, giving her an almost pseudo innocence. Her grin widened, exposing a set of perfect, white teeth. This was amazing. She hadn’t felt this good in ages.

The brunette stared out into the seemingly endless ocean of patrons. Her audience. Her fans. She looked out to those watching her, her teal eyes locking onto a particularly delicious looking chocolate set in the crowd. She fed off of their lust, and it fuelled her own. The adrenaline, the rush; this was a sensation no drug could compare with.

So many people. Underage schoolboys, frustrated businessmen, disenchanted husbands, even regular single men. They were all here. They all looked up at the stage. They all saw her, smiling sweetly down at them, drenched in sweat. In their minds, she was theirs. In their minds, there was no skimpy costume to obscure their view. There were no other patrons. There was no stage. What did this young man think? Did he imagine the brunette in his car, or in his bedroom? Perhaps the supply room at his office. It didn’t matter. There were so many men. Young and old. Hell, there were even a couple women out there. Too many fantasies. She couldn’t fulfil them all. Too many to enact. Too many to contemplate.

Their licentious stares. Their looks of pure desire, of longing. Collectively, they craved her. Collectively, they wanted only one thing, and she knew it.

All eyes were on Miriallia, and she loved it.

Well, to be fair, maybe not all eyes. There was another young woman who’d come to join her onstage, not that she needed any help.

Pushing herself off from the pole, the brunette took a running start at the other woman, dropping onto her back and sliding between the young lady’s wide-open legs, catching her eye in the process.

The young woman offered both hands to the one lying between her feet.

Not breaking eye contact for a second, Miriallia took the other girl’s hands and pulled herself up, until…

The brunette’s rising movement ceased. Their bodies had come into contact at the waist. Hesitating for a moment, Miriallia released her hold of the girl’s hands and quickly gripped her arms, holding on for dear life.

As if following Miriallia’s cue, the other girl placed her hands firmly in the small of the brunette’s back and slowly moved them downward. Slowly, and in perfect rhythm to the music, Miriallia felt the woman above her begin to grind against her hips.

Keeping the other girl’s cool, blue gaze, Miriallia responded to the movements in kind.

With their close proximity, evocative body movements, and unwavering eye contact, Miriallia was experiencing the most intense dance she’d had in a long while, and she loved every second of it.

Sure, Miriallia had no problem with taking the lead. To be honest, she generally preferred it that way, but to have someone take charge like this, she couldn’t supress the shudder that ran down her body, just like the ones she’d given Lacus earlier.

Miriallia felt helpless in her current position. The other girl was in full control. She hadn’t been dominated like this in a long time. She’d almost begun to miss it.

Come to think of it, this girl did actually look a lot like Lacus. If only she’d run off when the lights had gone down. Perhaps nobody would have noticed. The two pink haired girls were even wearing the same costume.

They were the same height, had the same long, luxurious pink hair, and the same blue eyes. They were so similar.

Of course, it wasn’t a perfect resemblance. Where Lacus’ hair fell down her back in thick waves, this girl’s was silky and strait. This girl’s eyes were also a slightly deeper, darker, more intense shade of blue, whereas Lacus’ were tinged with grey.

This girl also seemed to have a significantly larger bust than Lacus. Miriallia would know, they were pressed close enough together. Their faces were also quite different. Lacus’ face appeared as though it were somewhat younger, and she was much, much cuter. Especially when she wore that adorable, irresistible anxious expression of hers.

Miriallia’s eyes took on a distant glaze at the thought of the absent pink haired girl and she hastily swallowed a mouthful of saliva that had been accumulating.

Miriallia felt the briefest glint of raw arousal flicker within her.

Her lips pulled themselves into a familiar lustful smirk as she allowed the girl’s hands to roam her scantily clad body, wrapping her legs tightly around the girl’s waist, as she had done with Lacus.

Their dance now over, the pair had made their way off-stage. Traversing through the sea of patrons and tippers, Miriallia noticed Athrun behind the bar and made her way over to him and sat in the first available barstool. The pink haired girl joined her.

“Hey,” the brunette greeted.

“After all that you’re saying ‘hello’ now?” the other girl commented, amused.

“That’s nothing. I don’t even know your name,” Miriallia retorted.

“Princess.”

“What?” the brunette choked.

“Princess Pink, or the Pink Princess, whichever you prefer. That’s the name I go by here.”

“The DJ?” Miriallia assumed. Who else would come up with something so tacky?

“Who else?”

“So, Princess…”

“Actually, call me Meer.”

“I like it,” the brunette grinned. “I’m Miriallia.”

“I’ve never seen you here before.”

“I used to hang around every night. I kinda gave it up for a couple of years. I’m thinking of coming back. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.” Meer nodded at her.

“You definitely should.”

“So, that other pink haired girl…” Miriallia started.

“The one who ran away?”

“Yeah. Are you related to her at all?”

“No… why?”

“Pink hair, blue eyes… it’s quite a resemblance.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret. This getup, it’s fake. My natural hair colour is brown.”

“Oh… that’s too bad.”

“Why? A lot of the girls here adopt a persona by night.”

“No, not that, it’s just… you look really good this way.”

“Thanks,” Meer replied.

“Can I get you a drink?”

“Why don’t we just get drinks from the dancer’s lounge?”

“It doesn’t really matter. It all works out the same,” Miriallia countered. It was true. They had to pay for the drinks they took from that little fridge. Her lips pulled into a smirk. Tolle was such a cheap bastard.

“I guess you’re right. I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“Two regulars,” Miriallia ordered.”

“Coming up,” Athrun replied, bending down below the bar, returning with a clear bottle and two glasses, pouring equal amounts into each. “I’ll put it on your tab.”

The brunette nodded.

“Oh, and Miriallia,” the bluenet spoke.

“Huh?” she asked. She’d raised the glass almost all the way to her lips.

“Have you seen Seiran?”

“I’ve been on-stage,” the brunette reminded him. “Do you need to see him?” She raised the glass to her lips and drained the drink in one go, taking the liberty of pouring herself another one.

“I just… want to know where he got to. He’s pretty pissed at me.”

“Oh no,” the brunette smirked. “What did you do this time?”

“Nothing!” Athrun indignantly replied. “Well,” he conceded with a sly air, “I may have punched him in the face.”

“You didn’t!”

“You hit pretty-boy in the face?” Meer asked, joining the conversation. “Wish I’d been there to see it.”

“What the hell, Athrun?”

“That’s nothing. You should see what Lacus did to him.”

“Lacus?” asked Meer.

“You know; pink hair, blue eyes, ran off the stage after I exposed her to the crowd?”

“Oh, the newbie,” the pinkette replied, catching on.

“What did she do?” Miriallia pressed.

“He’s got great big scratch marks all the way down his cheek.”

Miriallia let loose her laughter at that. It was about time somebody put that pretentious prick down a peg. It was just a shame that the brunette hadn’t been the one to do it. Only Meer seemed curious enough to question why.

“What made her do that?”

“He cornered her in one of the hallways.”

Miriallia’s grin faded.

“What?” she asked humourlessly.

“He got her alone. Had her pressed up against the wall when I found them.”

Miriallia’s eyes narrowed, her expression pulling into a scowl.

“If he hurt her…” the threatened.

“It’s alright. Luckily, I managed to find them in time.”

“Is she alright now?”

“Yeah. She was pretty scared, but I don’t think he had time to do anything. She was lucky I found them when I did. She’ll be fine, but I for one intend to report Seiran to the security manager. I suggest you do the same.”

“Yeah, thanks Athrun. I’ll do that, though I’d prefer to push the prick out of a fifth story window to be honest. I’ll tell Tolle about it too. Maybe I can convince him to fire the bastard. He’s been nothing but trouble since he arrived.

“Tolle?” Meer questioned. “You mean Tolle Koenig? Do you know the owner?”

“Well, yeah,” Miriallia grinned, embarrassment shining on her features. “I’m kinda dating him.”

XXX

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