Page 41 of Lost Lyrebird

Her body moves like molten gold—smooth, controlled—as she slowly gets up and crawls across the table.She makes her way to the other side with her back in a perfect arch.Less than a foot from one of the customers, she straightens and begins dancing while kneeling, letting her hands roam over her body.She draws one finger over her lips and trails it slowly down her chest to the V of her low-cut dress.

Each man there is given some special attention before she gets down and seductively walks across the room, all the while maintaining that confident, sexy smile.

Mid-fucking-walk, she locks eyes with me and fucking winks.Her grin also kicks up another notch.

It jacks up my heart rate like it just got a jumpstart.

On her way to the stage, she pauses at a table.She zeros in on the oldest gentleman of the three sitting there.She spends a little time seducing him, trailing her nails down his tie, tugging the end until his head snaps back up.She leans close to his ear, never touching, but he stiffens from whatever he heard.

His gaze is full of an intense, fiery lust when she backs away.

I’m no better.I’m trapped by the movements of her divine hourglass figure—the toned muscles in her legs, the infinitesimal swaying motion of her hips.The skirt on the dress is revealing and molded to her ass, long enough to cover it, but just barely.

She continues to work the room as she goes.It’s as if she’s fully aware of her effect and confident in her ability to make every man here fall in love with her.

It bothers me.But with the pain thumping behind my eyes, it’s impossible to fully grasp the thought before it’s gone.

When she finally makes her way to the stage, the walls vibrate with the volume of the cheers.

At this point, her performance transforms and becomes more erotic.It’s evident in her movements, the constant flow of her body, that she’s not just a stripper, but a trained dancer.

Her hands hike up the already short hem of her dress as she sinks to her bent knees.She parts her thighs and runs her hands over her body.She performs a more intimate dance, playing up to the group surrounding the stage.And by the looks of it, they’re enjoying the hell out of it.

When she’s back on her feet, she pushes down the shoulders of her dress.With teasing, sultry taunts, she peels it off, slow and deliberate, until, inch by inch, every sinful curve is on display.

What’s left—white sheer crystal panties and silver pasties—draws every eye to the parts of her body that are pure eye candy to a man’s soul.

Her long walk to the pole has mouths gaping open.The sight of her bare ass framed by the stark white strip of thong even has a few men fumbling for their wallets.

She grips the golden pole and starts with a lazy swing around it.Then, turns and goes around in the opposite direction.She rests her back against it and bends forward.As she rises, her pink nails sweep up her leg from ankle to ass cheek.But there’s also the sight of her breasts to contend with, and my gaze pings between the two.

Seconds later, she spins and kicks up, catching the pole between her thigh and calf.Like her dancing before on the front of the stage, the build-up starts.She begins with a few small, easy tricks that increase in difficulty and intensity.

She moves from one position to the next, adding a sultry grind against the pole.The movements and pauses are purposeful, as if to highlight her best assets and skills.Her body arcs in a slow, deliberate spin, an elegant tease that promises more.She bends and flexes as she swings herself into the air, wrapping her legs or arms around it at times to stabilize herself.

The muscle definition in her arms, thighs, and calves is more evident than ever.They ripple beneath skin and glow under the stage lights.

And still she climbs higher, spinning this way and that, twisting upside down, and showing her experience by letting go and catching herself at the last moment.

I’m a fucking ball of anxiety as I watch. The image of that other girl falling is right there in the back of my mind, haunting me.Fear of Lily doing the same has me on a knife’s edge the entire time.

My worry seems to be unfounded, though, as she proves to have absolute control over each movement.

From the looks of it, the crowd is just as fascinated as I am.

As the song winds down, she comes off the pole and performs a more sexual routine on the floor, dominating in that area too.The finish is big and dramatic, and leaves her sucking in air as her chest heaves.

The entire act leaves us all a little stunned.

It’s like one of those once-in-a-lifetime things.Not something you’d see in a place like this, and yet here she is, appearing out of nowhere and pulling off shit I guarantee no man in here has seen.It’s like seeing an exotic animal in the wild.You know instantly that you’re a lucky son of a bitch to have been in the right place at the right time to experience it.

When she finishes, the applause can probably be heard down the block.Half the crowd gets to their feet.Lily smiles and takes a cute little bow, soaking it all in.

She grabs her dress and walks back into the audience, approaching a table of women, a bachelorette party.Sweat glistens on her body.Her hair, a tangle of curls, is damp with it.

The group gets louder as Lily closes in on them.

Even from afar, her laugh is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.