@cursedcommand
Such are the demands of the job--she’s tired, but she’s been called for a private dance. To be expected, she’s one of the better dancers in the club, and she’s good for making money because of it.
After freshening up a little, she makes her way to the back room where her patron is waiting. She puts on a face, feigning that she wants to be there, and draws the curtain.
He’s older. Par for the course. That’s about all she can tell in this lighting.
“Hello there,” she greets coolly. A little preamble before she starts dancing for him out of nowhere. Too much conversation is unnecessary. That, and they always find a way to talk too much, anyway. Nothing she can do about it, should he be one of the talkative ones. So she lets him get an eye-full of her, and her scantily-clad backside before she starts swaying her hips to the music.
