My First Night as a Stripper

In my whole entire life, I never thought I'd be an exotic dancer. But here I am in my early thirties, no less, single, beautiful, and free. And now, making lots of money. I used to be a frum girl, which means I used to keep kosher and the Sabbath. My wardrobe consisted of long skirts that went past my knees and long sleeve shirts that would hide my collarbone. Being sexy wasn't allowed in my world, and I was stifled.
I thought I would be nervous the first night I took my clothes off on stage, but I wasn't. I had on a see-through black lace nightie with a matching thong. Stilletto heels: 7 inches high. I felt on top of the world!!! I strutted onto the stage, with my head head held consiously high, shoulders back, hips swaying to the music. The guys were looking. Hungrily. I am mysterious. I will do what you want. "Approach me,"said my body language, the look in my eyes.

Taking off my top wasn't hard for me, (maybe it was for my nipples, lol). I approached the pole for the first time, and easily climbed and swung. Hair back, smiling, really enjoying it. I crawled towards the first man who had a stack of bills waiting for me. I danced for him, feeling myself, feeling good, milking him for all those dollars placed between my breasts.
When he was dry, I went on to the next eager observer. Dollars, dollars, in my lil' black thong, in my garter, on the floor for me. Finally for me. By the end of the night I had sold 10 private dances and 2 champaigne rooms.
I was never used to having some real money in my pockets; it's wonderful. And I don't think I 'm doing anything wrong. Although something did happen that might get me in some trouble. I don't know. I don't think I'm ready to confess what that was yet. I have to get ready for work. Talk to you later.