Backstage Dance 1
Brianna takes her sister Michelle to a strip club, where they watch a femmy otter do his thing.
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The music playing through the club thumps through Michelle’s chest. The purple-haired deer clings tightly to her purse as she stands in the entryway, watching the darkened room with wide eyes.
The other doe, Brianna, grabs Michelle by the wrist and pulls her along. “Come on, sis! The show’s about to start!”
Michelle squeaks as her hooves clip and clop along the tiled floor. Her sister’s step is much bouncier than her untimely gait, but soon the two make it to the seat right up in front of the stage.
Michelle holds her purse up in front of her, hoping it and her black dress would be enough to hide her from anyone and everyone. However, the bright blue beacon, Brianna’s tube top and mini skirt, means that every guy and many gals on the way to the club were looking their way.
“Come on, tell me truthfully,” Brianna asks, having just finished the drink order for the both of them. “Arne’t you excited for your birthday present?”
Michelle’s ears lower, and she taps her fingers together, muttering, “I think this is more for you than for me,” she admits.
“What’s that? You gotta speak louder! Shouts Brianna, her voice carrying through the club. “I want to know if you’re excited to be at the strip club with your sister!”
Michelle grips her head, leans forward, and puts her elbows on the table. “Oh god, this was a terrible idea,” she grumbles, but falls off-balance when Brianna yanks her around the shoulder, pulling her in for a group selfie. “Me and my sis, looking at sweet man bodies! Let’s fuckin’ gooooo!”
The lights all shut off and then the spotlight falls upon the curtains. “Ladies,” the speaker begins, “and gentlemen, too. Get yourself ready for some springtime fun when it comes to our next dancer, Otterbun!”
Stepping out of the curtains, a rather leggy leg ends in high-heeled shoes. What comes out next are long and floppy ears, poking out first before out comes the head. And what a face that comes with that head. Such an angelic otter who smiles softly as he steps out, his hair wavy, his eyes scanning the room. He steps his other foot out and pulls his body along with it, flowing like water, his cuffed arms coming out last to the beat of the old-timey song accompanying him. A one-piecer that plunges down his non-existent cleavage shows that he is built in a soft and femmy lithe form. As trumpets blare, he whirls around, hands on his knees and sticks out his rear, a cotton tail bouncing as he shakes his rear to the beat.
There are cheers and laughter at the sight, but both deer grow quiet, their eyes wide, caught in a paralysis as they watch his demonstration.
The dancer whirls around, hoolking a leg around the stripper pole and spins, holding onto it with one hand as his back bends so far, one leg sticking out as he whirls around, his eye eventually locking onto Michelle’s for just a moment. At that moment, Michelle claps her hands over her mouth, stifling a squeal.
This sound kicks Brianna out of her trance, and she shakes her sister by the shoulder. “See? I told ya you’d love him. Damn, though if only I could get a piece of that,” she says, biting her thumb.
The dancer pulls himself up, pressing his chest to the pole, rubbing his cheek against the metal rod. As he gets off it, he unbuttons one of his cuffs and tosses it aside, having it land on the table in front of Michelle. He puts his hands under the breast of the outfit, pulling it down, shimmying out quickly and dropping it to his ankles. When he finishes, he kicks the cloth away, lifting his arms, exposing himself before the crowd.
Brianna squeals, claps, and whistles. Michelle’s eyes go from that magnificent member between his legs and then up to his face, a frown on her face before he winks in her direction. Then, she blushes deep red and smiles.
The otter climbs down to the edge of the stage right in front of them, kicking his legs. He crosses one over the other and then uncrosses them, his heel landing on the desk.
Brianna already has her own purse out, tossing bills his way. He hops up and walks over, clicking off the stage and standing before Brianna, his hands up to his head, his body undulating.
The older deer waves her hand and shakes her head, pointing to Michelle and shouting, “It’s her birthday!”
That’s all he needs to click over to her, swaying this way and that, giving Michelle a face full of cock and of abs, letting his perfume and his sweaty dancer’s musk waft all over her.
Poor Michelle is paralyzed, frozen in a half-smile, half-grimace, her heart beating a mile a minute but taking in the sights and the sounds.
The sounds?
That’s right! Otterbun leans in, cupping his uncuffed hand by his mouth, and shout-whispers to her. “Happy Birthday to you, you cutie!” He looks over his shoulder, bumping his butt in front of Brianna’s face. He then smirks and says. “Midnight. After the show. Backstage. You won’t want to miss it.” He then stands up, hopping back onto the stage, swirling and swinging away.
“Oh maw gawwwd!” Brianna screams. “Did you see that ass! Hey… something wrong, sis?”
“I think,” Michelle begins, blinking and then turning to face her sister. “I think he just invited us to something private.”