We go into the dressing room, moving into our routine to get ready. The crowd is riotous and I’m soaking in the energy they’re throwing out. Axel’s eyes grow tenser the closer it gets to our time. Damien doesn’t seem to care much.
Willie comes in as we’re stretching, giving one of the new guys shit for missing a strip of skin with his self-tanner.
Our boss is nothing like his name suggests. Willie wears suits tailored to make him look just like he wants, the man. In fact Willie’s the one who introduced us to our tailor, Raymond. Willie’s brown hair, which he has touched up every two weeks is disheveled but he isn’t fooling anyone. We all know he takes his time with it. Willie has a wide smile on his face, which has been on his face since leaving the bank with us this morning.
“Trifecta, your presence has been requested in VIP room three.”
“All of us?” Damien asks as he cracks his neck.
“Yep, bachelorette party. Daddy’s rich and wants his princess to have the best night of her life.” I can see the money signs in Willie’s eyes. He’s getting every last drop of this place until he passes over the reigns to us.
“What a weird thing for a dad to pay for,” Axel says. I can tell he’s trying to hold back his annoyance, but he’s not doing a good job of hiding it. It’s a good thing the bank had good news for us today. Axel’s getting close to the end of his rope.
He really does hate this life. And for a second, I feel bad for him. But, we’re so close. We’re right there. The loan was approved. Big Willie’s will soon be ours.
“Who cares what Daddy’s paying for, as long as he’s paying. They asked for the three of you for three hours.” Willie hands us the slip showing how much we’re going to make in the VIP room, without tip.
I almost choke seeing all those beautiful zeros.
“Well it looks like we’ll get to celebrate early tonight. With that amount we’re going to skip out early tonight, Willie.” Damien slaps Willie on the back with a smile. Even Axel smiles, realizing he won’t have to stay at the club for very long.
The DJ introduces us, and the crowd roars to life knowing the infamous Trifecta is about to grace the stage. Our theme music pumps through the sound system and it’s go time.
“Bad To The Bone” by George Thorogood.
We hit the stage in the order we entered this earth. I go first, my hips moving as my muscles catch the light reflecting off the baby oil. Women go crazy. Axel enters after me, his body in sync with mine. Damien takes the stage last, his moves matching mine and Axels.
This is the Trifecta and we’re the sexiest exotic dancers in Vegas. We have the world at our feet, well, if the world is screaming horny women and men willing to pay dearly to catch a glimpse of us. And they’ll throw even more money at us for a tiny bit of attention from the triplets. The men have learned over the years the Trifecta is only about the women, but it doesn’t mean they don’t throw money on the stage with the rest of them.
We go through our routine. I absorb all the love being tossed at me. Axel’s face is masked with the pretense he’s enjoying being a piece of meat, while Damien marks the women he knows will pay out more.
The Trifecta is on tonight.
I scan the room, knowing I need to find my mark fast since my time has been cut short. A large party of women scream at the end of the stage. I move toward them needing a better look. I love women because they go places in groups, it makes it easier to find which one you want when they’re all clumped together.
It’s convenient.
I hit the stage, my knees resounding off the floor getting all of their attention. They stretch out their arms wanting to touch me. Throw money at me. I smile and wink at them all the while wondering if I’m going to let one fortunate lady catch me tonight.
Then, I notice her. She’s part of the group I’m currently making wet. Although, I almost missed her. She isn’t wearing the tight sparkly dresses like the women she’s with. No, this one is in a simple red dress. It’s almost as if she doesn’t want to be noticed. I can’t wait to tell her, out of her whole group, I choose her.
Lucky girl.
Damn lucky.
Remember, it’s not cocky if it’s true.
Her hourglass figure is pushing against the material of her blood-red dress, and I want nothing more than to help the body underneath escape. Her black hair has a victory curl in the front and a bandana tied around the middle of her head, the back pulled into a high ponytail. Her blue eyes sparkle but they refuse to connect with mine. Her understated makeup is sexier than the caked on stuff the women next to her have on. But it’s her matte red lipstick that catches my dicks attention. My cock wants nothing more than to make her mouth wet and swollen. She’s not writhing on her chair like her friends around her, and I’m intrigued. Playing hard to get I see. Like I said before, I do love a challenge.