40 men entered the room. Sam was pleased to see that Jefe wore a ghettoblaster as agreed. He grinned wolfishly at her and rubbed his thumb and forefinger together with his free hand. Sam's heart fell - at least four men had paid Jefe to join them in his group.
Brutus repeated his ritual with the clock and left the room after two minutes. Jefe had gathered four men who looked at Sam expectantly.
Brutus's grater voice sounded high on the gallery. "Show time"
Sam looked at Jefe and pointed her head at the stacked chairs. The rest of the men looked in their direction, no one rushed after the screeching women. From the upper ring, there was a startling voice murmur.
The four paying 'guests' and Jefe hurriedly set off. Sam brushed her shoes off her bare feet and walked slowly to the outer steel prop. She clasped the smooth surface with both hands. The pole was thicker than the ones Sam had danced at Smittis and Jos. Still, it was a familiar feeling.
When Sam raised her head, her audience had gathered obediently in a semicircle in front of her. Time was running. The remaining prisoners were still undecided. Jefe pressed the start button and the first bars of 'Lady Jam' floated through the room.
For years Sam had perfected her choreography for this song. She hoped the effort would pay off today. Show time.
Sam smoothly moved her body to the beat of the music. Slowly she began to open the buttons of her top. She stepped in front of the bar and rubbed her shoulder blades lasciviously against her. With momentum she flung the garment aside.
Sam let his hands slide over her upper body. She covered her full breasts and circled her nipples with her fingertips until they were upright. With a dreamy look, she pushed a middle finger between her moist, shiny lips, then slid it slowly down into the waistband of her pants. Sam rolled her hips rhythmically back and forth. She had to get down to business quickly. The song lasted about 4.5 minutes.
Turning his back on the men, Sam slipped her pants over her hips with her ass stretched back. This position, the string and the glittering lotion would make sure that their audience got up to speed. Dressed only in the blood-red string, Sam whirled around the pole and danced his soul out of it.
As the final chorus of the song sounded, Sam snaked out of the string. She reached for the pole again, letting her outstretched tongue glide slowly over the cold metal. She measured her audience with a greedy look.
Satisfied, she realized that the men were slipping around nervously, stealthily stepping into the crotch, completely absorbed in Sam's sight. Sam stepped back in front of the pole and slid down to her. With her legs wide open, she allowed the men deep insights. Sam pushed her hips forward and tilted her head back.
Her hand touched the narrow strip of curly hair between her legs and slid deeper into the smooth-shaven skin. Sam closed his eyes, ran his tongue over his upper lip and stroked. She let her fingers dance faster and faster in order to present a first-class staged orgasm in the last notes of 'Lady Marmelade', wildly twitching and moaning.
Satisfied with her performance, Sam rose and approached her audience. She stopped in front of Jefe.