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its Creole women, Cajun food, jazz band, private Champaign rooms, gaudy chandeliers and never-ending scented candles that danced on old Victorian style candelabras burning dimly throughout the building.

Some still in their business suits, the men sat in anticipation of Masquerade. She was the headliner at the club known for her beautiful short and voluptuous body. Every man in the room had grown to adore her and some had even had the pleasure of being with her. In that, Grey was no exception.

Giving his coat to the hostess at the front door, Grey was escorted to his normal booth where he ordered a small shot of scotch. Kit would surely recognize him. She always did. He didn’t have to do anything special. He would just make eye contact with her and hold up his glass to salute her. Shortly after the show, she would come by to say hello, and they would retire back to his place, where she would give him her famous full body massage among other things.

Kit’s story was nothing extraordinary. She was an implant to the city by way of Paris. Her company had relocated to her Memphis over ten years ago, but when they went out of business, the college grad had no one in Paris to return to. So, down on her luck, she opted to use her physical assets to make a good living for herself.

Grey had always been smitten with Kit. She was beautiful, intelligent and bold. Her accent and insatiable sexual appetite made her his own little erotic treat. Although he was extremely attracted to her and grateful of her choice to be an exotic dancer, he often wondered why she didn’t exercise more of her intellect. They had found themselves in numerous conversations over the years where she was well informed of issues even beyond his understanding. However, he never urged her to pursue jobs in better fields. To loose her as a late night booty call would be a crime and a shame.

Excited that he had not missed the show, Grey sat back in the booth, crossed his legs comfortably and sipped on his drink debating whether or not to take Kit home tonight. It was never her decision, because she never said no to anything. It was, however, his decision, and it was now weighing heavily on him. With Ivy pregnant, he did not have anyone to fulfill his most ambitious needs, but he questioned his choices. As the lights dimmed and the DJ announced to the gentlemen to prepare themselves for the entertainment extravaganza of the evening, Grey put his worries to rest. After all, he didn’t have to make a decision right away.

The entire room became silent, and the lovely Kit walked out on stage in her wintergreen velvet knee boots and matching cat suit boldly cut to expose her ample breast and buttocks. Her body swayed like a dexterous feline as she walked down the catwalk, and as she made contact with each man in the room, her light green contacts sparkled. Smiling, she kicked her leg up to cue the music, fell down into a Chinese split and rocked erotically on the floor. Letting her hair fall down to her waist, she waited until she heard the men scream like lust-driven cavemen before she lifted her head and began to move around erotically teasing her audience.

Kit stood up and danced over to the clear, illuminated center pole where she quickly wrapped her legs around the cold acrylic beam and spun around allowing the phallic symbol to rest tightly between her legs. Holding on tightly to balance her body, she licked her lips and shook her breasts watching the crowd go wild. As her foot hit the ground, she looked across the room where Grey was sitting in his usual booth. Smiling slyly, she tore off her suit and revealed her wintergreen thong and shiny green tassels. Grey laughed. He loved that she was so excited by the audience. Lifting his glass to salute her, Grey whistled at the young nimble vixen as she picked up a bottle of baby oil. She always gave a damned good show.

**

Nearly fully dressed, Kit joined Grey at this booth almost an hour later where he had already ordered her favorite drink. Hugging him before she sat down, she took her drink and quickly gulped it down.

“Hello, Mr. Wonderful. I wasn’t expecting to see you here this evening,” she said lighting her cigarette.

“I had a little free time.” He wished that she didn’t smoke. It was the one thing that made her imperfect. He struggled to breathe between her drags.

“Well, it’s good that you did come. Tonight is my last night,” she said proudly exhaling another puff of her cigarette in his direction. She knew that he didn’t like the smoke, but she enjoyed watching him squirm.

“What?” Grey was surprised at her decision. He thought that she loved her job. “Are you going to another club?”

“No. No one else in Memphis can afford me. My son is getting older, and I know that pretty soon he’s going figure out what I do, if someone doesn’t tell him first. His father has been holding my job over my head for years now. So, I’m quitting and moving closer to him in Atlanta. I have enough saved to start fresh. Maybe I’ll open a small business or something.” She felt close enough to Grey to give him a thorough explanation. “I’m out of the exotic dancing business. Besides, I’m nearly a millionaire.” She wiggled her nose at him and put out her cigarette.

“Well, what can I say? I’m proud of you.” He looked down for a brief moment. “I’ll miss you, but I am proud.”

“Oh,” she said taking his face in her hand. “I’ll miss you, too.”

“So how do you plan to celebrate your last night as an exotic dancer?” He had made his decision.

“I don’t know. Why? Do you have any suggestions?” She already knew what he was talking about. She

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