Waiting

On the other side of that curtain the whole world was waiting.

Her whole life had been on the stage but she still got nervous before a show. It was inevitable. And while it used to annoy her, she had accepted that the nervousness was the electricity that kept her on her toes. It kept her from getting comfortable. When you got comfortable you might get lazy and when you got lazy you got boring. Nobody paid to see boring.

She made her way off stage and down the small hallway to her dressing room. It was painfully small with a large lighted mirror taking up one wall. With her makeup done she turned the lights off. The heat was immense and she didn’t want her makeup running before she even got to the stage. She sat down in small folding chair that faced the mirror. There was a tonic water on the counter with a lime in it to settle her stomach. It was a nice gesture but futile. Nothing ever helped her nerves. Stepping in front of the crowd, that first step with your eyes blinded by lights standing before a room full of shadows, that’s when her nerves went away. That’s when she could breathe easy. There was no more anticipation at that point. There were no more what ifs. Anything more that’s unexpected can be dealt with as it came along. There was no time to think about anything more long term than the ever pressing now.

She could hear the crowd now. It was coming through as a barely audible murmur but the vibration in the floor confirmed how loud it really was. The sensation running up from the soles of her shoes gave her goose bumps. It ran up her legs, through her hips and up to her scalp finally enveloping her brain in a familiar warmth. It was pure unfiltered serotonin soaking her brain like syrup on pancakes. The joy turned to raw pleasure and she ran her hands along her thighs.

No. Now was not the time. It would be, soon enough, and she didn’t want to waste anything in a moment of weakness. Being one of the only sexual performance artist working in the States she knew that every moment she had wasn’t hers but her fans. The people who paid. The people who loved her. She gave everything to them. Night after night. Town after town. She made sure that there was never a moment where there would be a need to question her dedication. She had been afforded a rare opportunity and she had maintained it by not indulging in the basest of pleasures.

The mindset of the modern American had come to a point that considered physical acts of love something worthy of praise and admiration. In the past centuries pornographic film stars were driven to the fringe of society and looked down upon but a new era had dawned. An era that celebrated and respected those who possessed skills in love making and Sierra was one of those people.

There were some who competed but she didn’t have quite the stamina for that and she preferred the more subtle and artistic license she was afforded when it came to stage shows. There was something so simple and beautiful about what she did on stage. Staying true to her performance style she wasn’t to see her other performer until they were both onstage. She was at least given a notice before hand as to whether it would be a male or a female so she could ready herself appropriately.

It was a man tonight. That made things different. Not worse but different. With a woman there was a lot you just instinctually knew how to do. There were so much similarities you could feel at ease and be more organic. With men the dynamic changed. Some men were aggressive, some were passive. Some men had girth while others had length. Almost every man she had ever performed with had been a pleasure but there was something always a little bit more with men that made her nervous and she could feel it tonight as she sat in the room waiting for the usher to knock on her door and tell her that the audience was ready.

In the stillness of the room she could hear her heart beat. It was racing. That was good. She knew it would be bringing lots of blood to her skin, making her glow. Thoughts of other performers dying mid-show due to a heart problem flashed across her mind and she felt her nerves tighten as her heart beat faster still. She noticed her breath was shortening as her chest expanded and collapsed dramatically. She liked being nervous but not a nervous wreck. There was a fine line between glowing and looking flushed and anemic.

She tried clearing her mind and thinking of what she would be doing after the show. The immediate after would be a madhouse. Ushers guiding her offstage and back into her dressing room while the crowd roared behind her. A maddening crowd pleading for more. Scream, cries, and cheers all mixing together to make the sound of pure chaos. The stage would be littered with flowers and various undergarments from the more dedicated fans. She never went back out after the performance. Those were the rules. There were a ton of rules but that was one she appreciated. After a performance she was completely wiped out. There were times after a show she could barely make it back to her dressing room.

A sharp knock on the door shook her.

“Come in.”

A mousy girl in maroon monkey suit with the little usher hat came in and looked at the floor while she spoke

“They’re ready for you Ms. Sierra”

“Thank you”

Sierra stood in a floor length sheer robe underneath which she was naked and walked towards the young woman. The usher hurried out of the room along the hallway to the stage, making quick tiny steps that made it appear as though she was floating down the hall.

Sierra noticed that the usher put in extra effort to not look at her in any way shape or form that wasn’t directed at her face. She got that most places she went to. Most venues tried to be as polite and professional as they could. She understood but sometimes it felt odd being nearly naked and having no one notice it.

For such a low tech production there were always quite a handful of people backstage. Technicians, electricians, stage hands, managers, riggers, all there to make her look good. At no point in her time on the stage had she neglected to remember those people. The people that did so much for her and were never seen or appreciated enough. She smiled at them all as she passed. The only thing she could afford in that brief moment. She got into place and stood just off stage to await her cue.

The house lights would die and the music would swell. Then the announcer would come on and say…

The house lights died.

The music built up.

A warm voice filled the auditorium “Good evening ladies and gentlemen, here for your pleasure and her own is Ms. Sierra.”

The roar of the audience filled her soul as she stepped onto the stage promptly shed her coat and smiled at the audience. A massive blur of dark forms. Her whole loving world.