March 25th, 2012 | 3 Comments »

It’s a feeling.
A kind of  illogical confidence.
You walk into the bar and you don’t make eye contact…
…with anyone.
The glass slides across the bar and you scoop it up while barely looking
Yeah…its going to be that kind of night.
Then you notice a minor commotion.
Every other guy in the place is antsy…restless
You look around for a bit but you don’t notice anything out of place
and then you spot her.
Tall. Leggy. Bored.
She’s sitting by herself at the corner of the bar…nursing a multicoloured concoction….and she’s tapping her fingers against her thigh
A silent staccato that speaks only to you…
Or so you think.
You watch as the local stallions trot up to her
You imagine that they are laying down their best game…
and one by one they fail.
Well., You think., Its only fair that you give her a shot….or two.
This is your bar. Your home court.
So you get up and casually stroll over in her direction…
The female bartender cocks her head…and you put up two fingers
She smirks. Then nods.
You slide onto the stool next to she…
You stare straight ahead
At the TV behind the bar. At the racks of bottles.
You feel her check you out. And dismiss you.
When she turns her head away from you, you turn and brazenly stare
Up and down.
She can feel it, but you keep doing it. Until finally she turns to catch your gaze.
This would ordinarily be your cue to quickly avert your gaze but you don’t. not tonight.
You stare into those hazel eyes and give her one more once over.
Now she’s incredulous.
Perfect timing…your bartender drops two glasses of your favorite libation in front of you.
It’s not fruity, isn’t colourful…
Its almost poison…but poison that tastes oh-so-good.
You pick up your glass and sip slowly. Savoring the delicious goodness….
She tries to ignore you and picks up her girly drink to sip but then the straw makes that telltale sound…she doesn’t have to look down to know her glass is empty.
You have a small smirk on your face…you kinda nod with your head towards the second glass.
She looks at you.
Looks at the glass
Shrugs….and picks it up.
She sips.
There’s the recognition.
She sips again.
You watch the motion of the cold liquid sliding down her throat.
Then you wait a few seconds
There’s the slight flush of her cheeks as the liquid warms her insides.
She takes one more sip and then sets the glass down.
Then she turns to you…
You turn away briefly…take another sip.
You’re not seeking liquid courage. You’re making her wait.
Then it begins:
She: what’s your name?
You: Chuck….what’s yours?
She: what would you like it to be tonight?
You: Yours
Without missing a beat she smiles slowly and says
Hi Chuck…tonight? I’m Yours
You: Damn right.

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March 22nd, 2012 | 1 Comment »
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March 5th, 2012 | No Comments »

a lil’ sumthin’ to help bitch-slap the Monday blues.

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March 4th, 2012 | No Comments »

She is sexy.
she is naked.
and she is sitting in your lap.
she is a stripper
and you need to stop yourself falling in love with her.
think about it for a second.
she could be your dream girl…
physically…she is your type
[well of course she is seeing that you picked her from the plethora of scattered ass throughout the strip club, but this writer is not going to quibble over minor details]
so, the busty, blonde and blue eyed goddess is right in front of you
she’s hanging on your every word
absolutely riveted
and every time you tear your gaze from her generous chest, her eyes tell you that she wants you to take her somewhere quiet and fuck her senseless.
she also doesn’t seem to mind the ridiculous boner poking her every time she shifts in your lap…
…and the shifting is just making it worse.

my college roommate once tried to save a stripper.
granted she was drop dead gorgeous…
but once I listened to her sob life story I tried to get away from her as quickly as possible.
daddy issues? Check.
trying to pay her way through college? Check
history of horrible boyfriends who treated her like shit? Check
dude was convinced he had to save her.
all I asked was that he drop me off before he put on his cape…
when she showed up at our dorms, I think I hid my shock well.
when I found a picture of her in his desk drawer, I was nonplussed.
at least the sex would’ve been good right?

I don’t care what the underlying rationale for the particular girl is…
strippers are in it for the money and just the money.
try getting one of them to hang out with you for an entire Friday night inside the strip club with the understanding that you won’t be paying her.
she might seem interested in you and might genuinely like you and want to get to know you…
…but she is at work.
you are a customer and it’s her job to make you happy until you empty your wallet.

maybe this girl fell on hard times and needs to make quick cash…
so either she still needs to make quick cash on the day you meet her…which means you’re her temporary ATM…
she’s made the cash she needs and has decided to stay in the profession because she likes the money…
either way…she wants your money
not a Lois Lane-like midnight flight with Captain Save-a-Ho

My roommate would never discuss that girl…
personally I think she must have asked him to pay her rent or something along those lines and he probably balked at the notion.
he was a small town boy
he probably thought being a “good boyfriend” would solve all her problems

every one should have sex with a stripper at least once. ..
just for the experience…
they do know tricks.
after it’s over?
pay her…and leave.

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