Chapter 19

Rick came home to find Erin pacing like a mad man back and forth in their living room. Outside was the worst cold snap in Texas history. It was down to ten degrees below zero. She was wearing satin panties and a silky rose colored pajama top. The cold inside didn't seem to bother her. Rick had bought a portable heater run by kerosene that had an anti spill proof gadget to it. It threw off a tremendous amount of heat in a twelve foot radius. It wasn't even Thanksgiving yet!

"I'm sorry about the super bowl, babe," he said.

"The what?" she continued her pacing.

"The super bowl, they cancelled your act. They want that scuzz ball, Justin Timberlake to perform instead of you. Shelly didn't tell you?"

She waved him off, "I don't give a fuck about the supper bowl," she purposely mispronounced super bowl. "Honey, sit down."

"Okay!" he took a seat in the comfortable recliner they bought for forty dollars at a garage sale."

"Do you remember that dance me and the other hotties did a couple weeks ago?"

"Who couldn't! It's as close to real lesbian sex as I ever saw or heard."

"I tried waking you up last night. I couldn't sleep."

"All you gotta do is straddle me and put my cock up your warm pussy and it will pull me out of the deepest sleep," Rick grinned.

"Oh! Okay! I'll do that next time," she got on her knees and placed both of her hands on his crotch like she was preparing to give him a blowjob. Instead she left them there and looked straight into his warm brown eyes. "I couldn't fall asleep at all last night. So I came out here with a thick blanket and sat in this recliner. I turned on the television but couldn't find the remote."

"Right here," he pulled it out from a pocket sewn onto the left side of the comfortable chair.

"Hmmmmmmm, I have to remember to look there but I hadn't watch TV since 9-11. Last night there was a Spanish speaking movie on and it was about dancing. I was reading the subtitles but they never said anything about the name of the movie. Well anyway, they had to have at least sixty women on a stage to rehearse. The man, I guess he was the head of the dance company, said he wanted to do the tobacco dance. It was in Spanish but that's what it said on the subtitles.

"They formed into two groups. One hottie was named Carman and if I weren't me, I'd want to be her. She is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, Rick. An instant cum in your pants girl. They started out with some older bitch insulting Carman. Carman pulls a knife out of the table. One group with the older woman and the other was with Carman.

"They sang a few lines insulting each other. Then there were no more lyrics or music. Rick, they did the exact same thing I did with the girls that night when I wore that tight bodysuit. The exact same thing! I never saw that movie before. Ever! And I started it just like they did. The movie is older so how could I know what to do when we went into that nonmusical dance?"

Rick saw the seriousness in her eyes. She looked haunted by what she just explained to her husband. Her hands were upon his growing penis but she didn't seem to notice. He shrugged, "Are you sure you never saw that movie before?"

"Never! I'll swear on a pack of Bibles that I didn't."

"We need not go that far, babe. I think there is a gene in most women who are young and want to dance in each of you somewhere. You just let loose while us men with the exception of a few guys like Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly. The rest of the guys think they're too macho to let go and dance. You just picked up your instincts along the girls at Shelly's and ran with it while us guy thought it was too womanish or they didn't want to be teased by their friends to do that kind of thing."

"You really think so?" she was squeezing his erection and didn't even notice that she was doing it. Her mind was too focused on that dance.

"I honestly do."

"I hope you are right. Do you think you can have a couple of your guys rig up some lighting so I can do that again?" she asked, then realizing what she had in her hands. She yanked them away like she was holding a hot poker. "I'm sorry, I didn't know what I was doing."

"I'm not, I'd love to get a blowjob from you?"

"Will you rig up the lighting on the stage?"

"Whether I get that blowjob or not, you know I will," he saw her gorgeous green eyes light up. She broke into a lovely smile, pulling down his zipper and pulling out the Monster, as Erin called it.

"You take care of Widdle Ewin and Widdle Ewin take care of the big Monster." Her mouth engulfed his cock.

As she was dancing on Friday, she eyed the girls whom she had told to get on the tables and dance with her. She was singing "Don't Cry For Me, Argentina" while eyeing all the girls in the mix. She started picking out the most talented ones as they swung their hips, clapped their hands over their heads, and swung their manes this way and that. By the end of the song, she had picked out the dozen she wanted to use over the next weeks ahead. She'd talk to Shelly about paying them, giving each girl a pass on the entrance fee, free drinks, and more things like paying for their costumes plus their hair and makeover. It would be stiff for Shelly but she was getting free lighting on the stage, more people would be coming, and somehow she'd have to expand even further. It was cold out but not as bad as the beginning of the week.

After the show, Shelly was called back to Erin's dressing room. She shooed Rick and Natalie out then tossed back a half bottle of water as Shelly settled in.

"Great show tonight. You were pointing girls out and giving them pieces of paper. What do you have in mind?"

It took fifteen minutes to explain to Shelly that she wanted to use the seven girls for a new program she'd like to do every other week. Erin explained the dance she saw on television the night she couldn't sleep and how the idea struck her. The costs of the costumes, the lighting that Rick's crew would install at no cost to her, and relocating the band to one end of the stage. Shelly agreed to it all but when she mentioned that the girls would be paid two hundred a night, she balked.

"You're making money hand over fist. Fourteen hundred dollars every other week will not break your back," Erin argued.

"Then why don't you pay it?" Shelly showed her stubborn side.

"You wouldn't be making this kind of money if it weren't for me!"

Shelly didn't know whether to back down. Erin was right. She was making more money than she ever dreamed. The video tapes were flying off the shelves of all the video stores nationwide and in Canada. People were making pilgrimages down to the town to see this redheaded goddess in person, and Erin agreed to do a show on Thursday night for her. In their own right, they were millionaires many times over. She even talked Erin not to sell their house when they moved in March, but to let her make it into a shrine of some sort. Erin didn't think it would work but she agreed to that. Finally after an hour of back and forth raising their voices to each other, they hammered out an agreement and sealed with a friendly hug.