Succubus Soccer Mom - Jacquelyn Faye

Prologue

"Fucking snail trails. Seriously?" My lip curled as I sneered in disgust at the brass pole rising up from the stage and disappearing into the blackness of the industrial ceiling above. 'Sinamon' forgot to wipe down the pole after her last dance, and the bitch got seriously turned on dancing in front of large crowds. Friday nights at Full Exposure drew in vast amounts of horn-dogs, pervs, jocks, businessmen, bi-curious housewives, and hardcore lesbians. Some of them were manlier than the guys in suits that came and dropped portions of their kids' college tuition just to see a girl spread eagled in a G-string.

Well, one thing was for damn certain, I wasn't going to be pressing my hoo-ha against the slimy brass without disinfectant. Reaching up, I upended my bottle of 151 rum against it, let it dribble down, pulled my lighter out of the pocket I'd had specially sewn into the center of my studded red leather bra, and lit that bitch up.

Alcohol burns off quickly, but the blue flames were kind of pretty, and I watched for a second before leaping on and spinning amid the flames. The audience gave a collective gasp, and Ginger, the owner of our fine establishment, slammed her drink down against the bar. She had warned me about showing off, and while demons couldn't contract sexually transmitted diseases…the thought of slipping off the pole mid-dance because of some over juiced skank hag didn't seem all that appealing either. It's not like I set the stage on fire.

I held on with my legs and dropped backward, back slamming against the pole, my face a foot off the black painted plywood beneath me. I must have used too much rum. The stage was, in fact, on fire. Not enough for the wood to catch, but enough to be a safety concern. For the humans in the bar, not the pole dancing demon smiling as the flames licked her face like a sensuous lover.

The DJ let half the song play while I danced in the flames, slowly lowering the volume. I ended the song with a flip off the pole, and my feet landed just as the flames dwindled down and the music stopped, my heels thudding loudly.

"Are you ready to see this flaming beauty get naked, boys and girls?"

I leaned back against the pole as the DJ's words settled over the crowd, and their thunderous response made my ears ring. Chuckling, I popped the clasp on the front of my bra and leaned forward, letting it fall off my shoulders and onto the floor behind me. Kicking it back to the DJ, I slipped my fingers in the waist of my matching panties as the heavy bass of Dragula started pounding from the stage speakers.

The guys sitting in the booths surrounding the stage surged forward, clamoring over each other to offer me their little green bills and lustful gazes. Ignoring them, I closed my eyes and shifted my panties, one side off my hip, before pulling them up tightly against me as the opening riff of the song exploded.

The rest of my dance became a blur as I got what I really came for. Their lust. As they showered me in bills, I fed off them like a Golden Corral buffet. The suits, the nerds, the geeks, the pervs… They all had different flavors, and with that much lust in the air, I didn't need to touch them to feed. They were launching it at me like dollar bills.

My climax started to build, and I had to concentrate to keep it at bay. Some of them