"You have to admit, he does have a nice ass," Satoshi Hayashi said to Cristal Gentry. He spoke of twenty-six-year-old Takumijo Yamazaki, the choreographer for the Japanese pop group Aomori as he stripped on stage in a skanky little joint on the outskirts of Paris, France.
"Yes, but I never thought I'd be seeing his butt quite like this," Cristal said, not taking her eyes off Takumijo or the other male dancer on stage. And the two men were taking it off and shaking it down to Beyonce's "Sweet Dreams." She'd never be able to listen to the song again without remembering this sight. She sighed. The six-foot tall Japanese did make a delightful temptation as he undulated and shook his muscular body. When had he learned how to work the pole?
"You're really into this, aren't you?" Satoshi asked as he drew smoke from a Cuban cigar.
"Not as much as those two," Cristal said, pointing over to her left at the lead singer of Aomori, Yori Morioka, and the baby of the group, Ichiro Yoshida, who both had half-naked women gyrating above their laps. Cristal gazed over. Yori had a huge grin on his face as the dark-haired stripper danced for him. But Ichiro just watched the dancer through lowered lashes. Cristal turned up her nose. Both those bastards had wives back home in Osaka, Japan.
Yori's wife Amaya was still recovering from a suicide attempt, and Ichiro's wife Shaundra was recovering from a broken heart. Just a little over a month and a half ago, Shaundra had learned that Ichiro had cheated on her. Since then, Shaundra hadn't spoken a word to him and right now, it didn't seem like Ichiro cared.
Satoshi blew a circle of smoke her way and Cristal turned her attention back on her sexy, dapper-dressed partner-in-crime and piano man for Aomori. Talk about a heartthrob. Satoshi was the man of her dreams ... a pretty, girly-man face, deep chocolate brown eyes, and an aristocratic chin, all set in a vision of porcelain skin. And he had the sweetest-looking lips. Oh, God, her panties would be drenched if she didn't stop staring at him.
Cristal turned back toward the stage. "He's not really going to take it all off?" she asked Satoshi.
"I hope so," Satoshi said, smiling.
Cristal shook her head. Though pretty to look at, Satoshi had a strange attachment to Takumijo and Ichiro she couldn't explain.
The other dancer on stage, an equally tall and very blond Frenchman, had stripped down to his G-pouch. Cristal eyed the pouch curiously. Nice, but she'd bet anything Takumijo had a nicer package.
"It's killing you, isn't it?" Satoshi asked. "I mean the suspense. Will he or won't he?"
Cristal bobbed her head up and down, mimicking the Frenchman's G-pouch as it bounced to the saucy song. "I'd pay anything to see you on that stage." She gasped. Did I just say that aloud?
"Keep your money," Satoshi told her. "I only give private performances."
Cristal pouted. She'd fucked up royally in that area a couple of months ago. She had been so close to getting Satoshi in her bed when she'd foolishly answered her cell phone that night and left him hanging to talk to her now ex-boyfriend Yi-jun Lee. Had she ignored the call, she'd probably be back home in Osaka, pregnant, and Satoshi would be in Paris getting a lap dance. Oh hell no!
Takumijo was down to a pair of skimpy black bikini briefs and grinding over the bent body of the Frenchman.
Cristal bit her lip. So sexy, she thought as she wrote yaoi fan-girl prose in her head.
"Let's go," Satoshi said, breaking her fantasy. "They're signaling for us."
Cristal took her attention off Takumijo and the stripper and put it on another man beckoning for them to follow him. She rose with Satoshi's help and followed him past the stage to the back of the strip joint. They passed several exotic dancers, both male and female, in various stages of undress. A couple of women eyed her up hungrily. Cristal smirked, ignoring them, and thankful that she'd been blessed with height and a nice shape. But she wasn't into women, no matter how pretty or well-endowed.
The man led them into a smoky room filled with people sitting at tables gambling. She smirked again. Now this is more up my alley. Her and Satoshi were the best card players in the group, and had won a sizable chuck of change since arriving in Paris. She'd learned about back room gaming on her last trip to France with Yi-jun. Of course, he wouldn't let her play because she was a girl. Stinking male chauvinist. Satoshi, on the other hand, had no qualms about this. He had always treated her as one of the guys when they went out. He offered her a cigar once they sat down and got into the game. Cristal accepted the cigar and a light from the handsome dark-haired Frenchman on her left. Satoshi rolled his eyes comically at her as the man gazed down at her bosom. Cristal sighed. Sometimes it was great being a girl.