2010-06-13: Helping Hands



Date: June 13, 2010


When you've got it, you've got it. If you don't, Ivory'll give it to you.

Helping Hands


Therapy. Everybody Needs It.

That just happens to be what Ivory Wyn is in dire need of at this moment. But, then again, there's a reason why he's taken to using this strip joint as his place of business. Women make him feel better about anything and everything he's found that he's going to be forced to go through, as a person that is no longer dead. Or whatever the case may be, in regards to whatever it is that people are going to refer to him as.

Stepping out of his office, the great man businessman known as Ivory Wynn immediately heads for the bar. He's taken to shaking hands and smiling, even posing for a couple of pictures with regulars and newcomers to Therapy. He plays the host quite well on the entire walk to his favorite stool, on which he flops so that he can order his favorite drink… which he gets to partake of for free. It is, after all, his club!

Music pounds over the speakers, setting feet and hips to motion. The girl who's on stage at present seems to command the tempo rather than the other way 'round, caressing the length of steel pole with all of the ease and professionalism that one could hope for. It's art and grace, bent to far more primal element.

And then there's the girl who watches it.

Trina, off duty tonight but with nowhere else to go, sits at a small table. She hunches over the edge of it, nursing a glass of scotch. Her hair is curled. Her nails are covered with rhinestone-studded acrylics. She wears a tiny black dressed, ruched, and a matching strappy pair of heels. Even her make up is done, her eyes trimmed in thick, smoky frames.

With his drink firmly in hand, Ivory spins on his stool to watch the show. Grinning, he feels some sort of pride about the girl that's doing her thing on stage. He's giving her the opportunity to do such a thing and it's clearly paying off quite well, considering the way that girl is doing her thing. He raises his glass at her, to show her just how much he's appreciating her moves.

As that glass is brought to his lips for a drink, he spots Trina off at the table and he's sliding across the floor to stand next to her table in record time. "Eh. You could take her." is Ivory's opening statement, before he just drops himself down into the nearest empty chair. Setting his drink down, he just kind of leans back and makes himself comfortable. "I mean, yeah, she's got a nice rack but… there's more to stripping than just taking off your clothes, y'know? It's like… it's an art form, really." What.

Trina glances down at her breasts for a moment, and then frowns. Her arm crosses over her chest self-consciously, and then she picks up her glass of scotch to take a sip from it. "I… I ain't that good at it, and we both know it. She's… she's a million times better than I am." There's a half-smile that the brunette sets in Ivory's direction as she continues, "But thank you saying so. It… It's really sweet a' you."

"All you need is a little practice. You just gotta' think the pole's… not a pole. That's where a lot of the girls get tripped up. They keep thinking they're dancing with an inanimate object, instead of with every single one of these losers in the crowd." Ivory says all of this as if he's been teaching girls how to dance for years. Raising an eyebrow, Ivory just kind of keeps the smile on his face, as he looks back over to Trina. "You know, I'm always open to helping you girls with your technique. All you have to do is ask." Wink.

Trina fights the urge to reach up to rub her neck sheepishly, a finger finding itself wrapping in a strand of dark hair instead. But then there's an uncomfortable roll of her shoulder and re-crossing of her legs. She looks down at her glass and its contents are carefully considered. "I… Do you think you could help? I mean, I'm not saying you'd be bad at it, but… I… I just don't see that you've had much experience with dancin'."

"Haha. Me? Dancin'? Hell naw. I don't got those skills or the hips for it." Ivory smirks and gives a mighty shrug of his shoulders. "But! One thing I do know is women. I know their minds, their bodies, how they work, how they move… how they should move if they want to make a crazy amount of tips on any given night." There's a wink that's attached to that last statement, just for the hell of it. "I propose we head to the office and you can practice your moves on me, all night long. Or until you get 'emd own the way you want 'em. Or the way I like 'em so much I end up tippin' you anyway… and you're not even on duty tonight!"

Trina thinks about that for a very long moment. And then? Then her fingers stretch out, moving to gently run along Ivory's cheek. She bites her lower lip and then leans in a little. "If you're sure it ain' too much trouble. I don't wanna distract you if you have things you gotta do that are more important, you know?"

Ivory snatches up his drink and downs it with the quickness, before slamming the glass on the table. Somehow, in the same motion, he's managed to push himself away from the table and back up to his feet, which is definitely where he'd much rather be. "You fail to realize that having you all over me just happens to be one of my biggest priorities." Flashing one of his classically winning grins, Ivory extends a hand to help the Trina with getting away from the table and the crazy main attraction that's probably making more tips than Trina does in a week! "I'll even be the pole."

Trina looks down at the hand that's offered her for a long moment. Then her fingers slip away from her glass to set themselves in his palm. "Well," she confesses, "That suits me just fine. Because right now, there is nothing I want more than for you to tell me just what you want me to do. Tell me to dance, I'll dance. And you know it won't stop there. I… I can be whatever you need me to be, I swear."

Ivory's eyebrow doesn't even need to really raise at this point. He's all about getting whatever it is that he wants at any given moment in time. Taking Trina's hand, he's already leading her off in the direction of the office, that she probably still makes her home, but whatever. "Let's see what kinda' trouble we can get into, hm?" Yup. Looks like Ivory's forgotten all about trying to help this chick become a better dancer. There are much more important things to be done.

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