Moonbeams & Stardust: Star Seduction

Star Summers entered the Cat�s Meow and immediately felt all the drunkards� stare. Shoving away the desire to retrace her steps and go back out the door, Star grabbed her determination and kept putting one foot in front of the other. Small steps. Take everything in increments, and it wouldn�t seem too bad., She started for the rear room, where she�d set up to dance the night away. All other things being equal, working at this dump wasn�t even close to being fair. Yet, she had to accumulate the funds to get transport to Earth, and that took a lot of money she didn�t have.

Blame her ex-boyfriend, Preston. He convinced her to come to the Moon, but then he met a prettier girl, a daughter of a general, dumped Star and headed back to Earth, leaving Star in great economic crisis.

�Star!� Darius demanded, his eyes on her. �You�ve got five minutes to get back there and shake your ass!�

�I�m going, I�m going!� Star said beneath her breath, walking fast, past the aromas of body odor, spilled beer and cigarettes. �Give me six minutes.�

�You got five.�

As she reached the rear room, she continued through the narrow hallway until she entered the dressing room, or what some of the girls called the stables. Like prized horses, each exotic dancer would prance out in front of the judges and do her thing for prizes and money.

Yeah, the term stables fit perfectly.

Stella strutted through the dusky, once red curtain, back into the stables amongst weak, whiny applause. Her fur was slick from sweat and her tiny nipples poked through the finer hairs like minute touches of paint.

�Whew!� she purred, snatching a towel and drying off her coat. �A real mob out there tonight, Star.�

Funny, Star thought, it didn�t sound like it.

Around Stella�s waist was a belt, a skinny black leather thong that wrapped around her tail in the rear and sliced the triangular outline of her puss for patrons to place their hard-earned or ill-gotten money. A few silver strips stuck to Stella�s belt, but not many.
Stella�s eyes met Star�s.

�You thinkin� you can get better, newbie,� Stella said, her voice threatening and sinister, but with all the sweetness of poisoned honey. �Huh?�

Star stiffened. Getting into it with Stella wasn�t a good idea. The oldest of the six girls, and the most alien, as she was from Saturn, Stella was more diva than actual fellow worker.

�Of course not,� Star said brightly, feeling sick at the cheeriness in her voice. �You�re a pro. I�m just trying to figure out how to be as good as you.�

Stella stared at her, sizing her up. At last her face relaxed and she said, �You do that.�

�Star, you�re on!� boomed Darius into the microphone and the back room�s interior sound system. �Star!�

The speakers banged out the bass, and Star hurriedly shimmied out of her blouse and mini-skirt, secretly cursing the Fates and their twisted sense of humor. A former ballet dancer, Star thought dancing in this shithole was a long way from Broadway.

Dressed only in her slate blue thong and matching bra, Star stepped onto the stage, parting the curtain as if her life depended on it. The brilliant stage lights fell on her, nearly blinding her from the crowd of patrons � men and aliens alike.

The lights were hot, and instantly her skin broke out into a sweat. She didn�t feel sexy, and she desperately needed to feel sexy to get through this. Making herself turn, she twisted to the beat, bouncing her head to the bass, and strutting like a pro in her high-heeled shoes.

The same shoes that sported the nice stench of vomit.
At that thought, she grinned. And the audience erupted into applause; the grin must�ve been what they were looking for. It had all the sensations of being horribly naughty.

She rubbed her hands over her body, sliding them down her thinly restrained mounds, across her arms and down her slender thighs, all to the beat. Tapping her foot in time, she shimmied up the rest of the runway, moving around, shaking her ass and thinking of the stranger in the parking lot.

A deadbeat for sure, but a dangerous, delicious looking one.
Who was Mr. I Can�t Hold My Beer?

With her eyes squinting against the glare, Star slid onto the central pole, making her loops as if it were second nature, habitual. But her mind was far away from the backroom, out into the parking lot � to the man she met with the cold blue eyes and the hideous scar across his cheek.

Beneath the cold exterior, buried perhaps, was kindness, a gentleness that Star discovered she wanted to unearth, to feel. That thought caused her to hesitate, only for a second, before continuing through her routine. Already, she could feel the energy in the room change from boredom to hot lust, thickly crawling over her.
With a brief twirl, she ripped off her bra, tossing it into the audience and hearing the men all clamor for it like a piece of raw steak thrown to a pack of rabid dogs.

Could the mysterious man be here now? Did he come back with that shirt reeking of foul funk?

He had come from the Cat�s Meow, so he frequented the place. Reeking of beer, he no doubt played here too.

Let him be in here now, lined up against the back wall, smoking, watching her with his hand in his pocket�

Yes, Star thought as she tossed her head back and forth with the bass and dropped down to all fours, she pumped against the floor for the men ogling at her feet, she did want that stranger to be here, hidden in the room watching her, getting horny for her�
Like she was for him.