Familiar Lapdance

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As I finish my drink, I put my empty pint glass down. I sway as I stand up from the table feeling a little tipsy. With my wife, Lucy away for the weekend, I decided to treat myself to a night in The Red Lion. Since retiring it’s not often I’ve had the opportunity to catch up with the old boys at the local. As they slowly drift off one by one, making their excuses to get home, I decide to call it a night. I raise my hand as Dave the landlord gives me a nod and walk to the door. I draw a deep breath of the cold night and zip up my coat to the top. I start to make my way home with the crisp night air stinging my cheeks. There are a few younger revellers enjoying their drunken evening, getting into taxis or heading to the next pub. I head up the hill of the high street as I start my walk home.

I take my time. The few beers I’ve had are keeping me warm, but make the walk a little slower than usual. I pass by the dimly lit alleys to a few of the later drinking spots in town. I turn the corner at the market square and walk past the overbearing pink neon lighting of Pink Paradise, the towns lap dancing club. I nod at the bouncers as I walk past. It’s been a while since I’ve walked past, and always avoided temptation. One of them gives me a puzzled look, but I keep walking, the warmth of my bed not long away.

As I get to the top of the road, and the hustle and bustle of the town centre is almost out of site, I turn my head to see the pink neon still visable. I stop for a moment to take a breath. Maybe it was the look from the bouncer, maybe it was a weekend of making my own decisions or maybe it was just the beer, but something strange within me makes me double back and head towards the doors of Pink Paradise.

As I approach the entrance, the familiar sound of thumping music and the pink glow of neon lights spill out onto the pavement. My heart is thumping with the music and my mouth drys. Having never been to anywhere like this, I am totally uncertain what to expect. My nerves almost get the better of me, as I go to walk past again, but a sudden surge of defiance propels me forward. I walk past the bouncers, keeping my eyes down and walking straight to the kiosk. I can feel the eyes of the bouncers burning into the back of my head as I pay the entrance fee. The friendly cashier explains where I can check my coat in and tells me the bar is through the curtain on the right. I step through the entrance, the smoke, music and dim lighting overwhelm my senses. I can feel the bass pulsating through the floor as I make my way towards the bar.

The club is a lot quieter than I imagined it to be, with a few seats taken up by customers and a few scantily clad dancers walking around trying to engage them in conversation. I find an empty stool at the bar and keep myself to myself.

I order a rum and coke from the barmaid. She looks bored and clearly not there to engage in conversation. In spite of this I keep facing forward, as I regret my decision to come in here.

I am aware of a couple of dancers floating around the bar chatting to some of the other customers. I try not to make eye contact, feeling uncomfortable with the whole situation. I notice that the dancers a very attractive when I’m able to take the odd subtle look, dressed in productive outfits, or skimpy underwear but are over tanned and too made up for my tastes. As I take a sip of my drink, I realise that coming here was a mistake.

As I get towards the end of my drink I turn in my swivel chair. As I do I am able to make out the silhouette through the dry ice of a slightly different looking girl. A more slender natural frame. Her stripper heels don’t help her petite stature stand out, but her tight black dress hugs her porcelain skin. The length of her dress rides high revealing a suggestive amount of her tight round bum. She moves gracefully, her delicate features framed by her jet black fringed bob.

Like the others she is floating around the floor chatting to the odd customer but with this dancer, my eyes are fixed. The way she moves is captivating, drawing my attention as if by some magnetic force. She turns towards the bar, and suddenly my heart drops, I swivel back in my chair immediately and face the bar again trying to ignore the knot forming in the pit of my stomach.

“Oh my god it’s Emily!” I say to myself.

Emily moved in next door with her parents, Amy and Luke, years ago, while in primary school. Lucy and I had built a close friendship with Amy and Luke, being able to offer guidance in those difficult family times, as well as enjoying barbecues in the garden and Christmas Eve drinks while dressed as Santa and Mrs Clause.

Emily became the daughter of friends. I never had a close relationship with her, but she was enjoyable to be around. Not bratty, and didn’t seem to have the difficult teenage years other girls have.

There was a period when she got into baking, and would constantly ask Lucy for advice at every opportunity. She was a sweet girl, that escort bayan always had a big smile on her face, she would stop to chat no matter what, to a point you couldn’t get her to stop chatting.

Lucy and I would often see her in local pubs when she wasn’t quite 18. Lucy would give her a friendly lecture on how to behave and promise not to tell her parents, while at the same time making me buy her a drink, so we can know she’s behaving herself.

Now, here I am catching myself staring at her slender figure in the tightest dress that forms perfectly over her curves. I turn back to the bar quickly before standing up to head to the exit. As I do I hear in a loud familiar voice over the music,

“Bryan!!”

I turn my head to see a beaming smile, arms out wide, making a beeline straight for me. Emily gives me a tight hug, her enthusiasm infectious as she exclaims, “It’s been absolutely ages, how’ve you been?” She says with giddy excitement.

Seemingly oblivious to the strangeness of our surroundings, she drags me into conversation, asking me about everything from work to family life without stopping for a breath.

“You’re not going are you? Another drink to catch up?” Her big green eyes looking up right at me.

“Oh no, I better not.” I responded nervously and urgently. “I just popped in on the way home from the Red Lion. I didn’t realise what this place was.” I lie unconvincingly, desperately finding an excuse to leave.

“Really?” Emily responds smiling, happily going along with my lie. “Well, it’s still great to see you, Bryan,” she says, still beaming. “What do you think of it?”

“Oh it’s not really my scene.” I say a lot more convincingly. I respond, trying to maintain a polite facade while mentally planning my escape from the awkward encounter, “Yeah, I think I’ll head out soon, but it was really nice catching up with you, Emily.” I say, also ignoring the strange surroundings we find ourselves in.

“Oh come on Bryan. Just one drink. I promise. Plleeaassee!” Emily tilts her head to the side and puts her hands together in a fake prayer, before bursting out into a fit of giggles. She puts her hands on my chest. Looking beyond her beaming smile and playful actions I start to notice the glitter in her bare pale shoulders, shimmering under the dim lights of the club, the way the top of her dress tightly hold in her her small pert breasts extenuating their perfect shape, while her nipples poke through her thin, stretched maternal. The dress clings tightly to the rest of her toned body before reaching the top of her glittered thighs, the darkness of her dress making her short but slender legs stand out before reaching her high platformed heels that are able to push her body up and elongate her legs.

I quickly snap out of my momentary trance to see Emily’s bottom lip sticking out and her green eyes wide open in a fake sad puppy expression.

Her look brings a smile to my face as I nod reluctantly,.

“Ok. One drink.” I agree, against my better judgment. “But then I’m heading home.”

“Yah!” Emily claps her hands continuing the playfulness of our engagement.

She gently takes my hand and leads me to the bar. The music was pulsing through the club, and the dizzying array of lights cast a kaleidoscope of colors on the walls and floor. I watch her walk ahead, my head still fuzzy from the beer in the Red Lion. As she walks I admire her smooth movements and the confidence in her step. Her small round peach shaped butt sways in time with the music, drawing my eyes in and holding my attention. The low thump of the bass fills my ears, matching the rhythm of her swaying hips. She definitely knows how to work the room. The way she moved was mesmerizing, and it was hard to resist being drawn into her small round cheeks hugged by the tightness of her dress. As we reach the bar, she glances over her shoulder and smirks at me, knowing full well the effect she’s having. She leans into me as we stand waiting to be served.

“So, come on Bryan, what drew you to the lights of the Pink Palace?” She asks as she gently nudges me with her elbow.

I feel the blood course through my body, as my face flushes with her inquisition. I stand there nervously trying to think of the right thing to say, aware of her gaze fixed on me, her scent wrapping around me, and her warmth brushing against my side.

“Erm… I don’t know really.” Are the first words I am finally able to muster. “The others I was with had already gone home, and fancied a night cap. This seemed as good a place as any.”

Emily looks at me with a curious look in her eye while I pay for our drinks. While there is some truth in what I’ve told her, she seems unconvinced.

“It’s ok Bryan, I see all sorts of men walk through those doors, lots of them are married. Some just want to sit at the stage and watch the shows, others want to get up close and personal in the VIP rooms, and I suppose there are one or two didn’t realise what this place was and bursa eskort bayan just come in for a night cap on the way home.”

She giggles, seemingly at my discomfort. I smile with her, not entirely sure how to respond. I feel like a child who has just closed the lid on the biscuit tin before his mum has walked in. I know I’ve been caught, but if I smile enough and deny any direct questions maybe I won’t get in trouble.

As Emily continues to giggle, she takes my hand again, her soft manicured hand enveloped by the brutish fingers weathered from forty years on building sites leading me to a little round table further into the club. She positions the stools right next to each other and softly sits her round cheeks on one. She gently taps the other stool encouraging me to sit.

For a few moments I sit in silence, look round the club. There is a slightly different energy in the atmosphere, than from the safety of the bar. The air somehow seems thicker. While there is by no means more people in the club, there is more of a bustle. The glitter and thongs move around the room with both grace and urgency. Folded bank notes get tucked away in purses before slow sensual dance takes place at the table or eager men are led willingly to a velvet curtain, before disappearing with their chosen dancer behind it.

My observations are broken by a soft voice with a cockney lilt calling out.

“Hey Crystal!” She say says to Emily.

I smile and the pseudonym as I turn to see a long legged blond standing at our table. Her long tanned legs, run up to a bright green neon pair of lace knickers which perfectly show off her smooth caramel complexion. I look up to see a warm smile across her face, but can’t help notice her lace bra holding in her ample chest. The mounds forming a perfect bill board styled cleavage. Her large hazel eyes look over at Emily then back over at me.

“This is my friend Bryan.” Emily announces with her big smile displayed. “Apparently it’s his first time somewhere like this, and I am showing him around.”

“Well, you’re in good hands Bryan. Crystal is an excellent guide. You will be well taken care of.”

Before I get a chance to respond the blond pecks Emily on the check and struts past my stool. She heads towards a small set of steps by the side of a stage. An announcement comes over the speakers, “Gentlemen, please put your hands together for Carmen!”

As the stage fills with dry ice, Carmen continues her strut onto it directly to the metal pole in the centre.

As I clap, I turn to Emily. “Crystal?” I say, unable not to laugh.

“Shush!” She says as she gently hits my shoulder and laughs back. We both turn and watch the show on stage, drawn in by Carmen’s hypnotic dance and fluid movements. The dim rose-colored lights cast a glow on Carmen’s supple curves as she gracefully twirled around the pole. She spins with elegance, and it’s hard not to be impressed by her agility and grace. Her movements are enticing, effortlessly blending sensuality and strength as the audience becomes captivated by her performance. In a swift movement she is upside down, clinging to the pole, her legs extending gracefully into the air, defying gravity. As they wrap around the steel she lets go with her hands and arches forward. Her arched form and easy grace draw gasps and cheers from the few members of the audience. This talent is wasted here I think to myself. My eyes follow her legs over her padded derrière to the sensual arches of her back. I turn to Emily to share how impressed I am, but I am stopped in my tracks as i realise she’s in whispered conversation with another customer.

I feel awkward at the table as Emily’s attention is drawn elsewhere. The young man she is talking to seems to be part of a group, maybe a stag do, or birthday party. I try not to let the distraction bother me and focus back on Carmen’s performance. But I am immediately drawn back to Emily as she turns to me,

“I’ll be beck in a bit.” She says sweetly before standing and taking the hand of her new companion. My eyes follow her delicate walk as she leads him to a thick velvet curtain at the back of the club, pausing for a brief exchange she pulls back the curtain and they disappear from sight.

The thumping music, the waitresses bringing drinks to the customers scattered around the club, the group of lads enjoining their night out as they try to get the attention of the of the dancers in their skimpy outfits while they do their rounds, even Carmen’s magical performance on stage, all disappear from focus as my eyes fix solely on the velvet curtain. A knot in the pit of my stomach forming every time it opens and but she doesn’t walk out. Other dancers with their customers walk in but Emily remains unseen.

The second hand on my watch almost feels like a heavy pendulum as I look at the time, amplifying my unease. Midnight.

What seems like an eternity has only been ten minutes. The velvet curtain stirs once escort bursa more and Emily’s young customer sheepishly appears welcomed by his friends patting him on the back and exchanging high fives. I try to stare him down as they walk past, but he is so wrapped up in telling his friends about his experience, he doesn’t know I exist.

The heavy pendulum continues to to tick on my wrist as eyes continue to fix on the curtain. The club, once a kaleidoscope of sounds and sights, now dims in the background, the anticipation gnaws at my insides. Finally relief courses through my veins as the velvet curtain stirs once again and there she is, making her way towards me with a knowing smile, adjusting her dress as she does, unaware of the uncomfortable anxiety I have been sat in while she’s has entertained her customer.

“How was the show?” Emily asks as she takes her seat next to me again. Her big beaming smile still on her face, totally unaware that Carmen’s incredible talents have completely passed me by.

“Um… it was alright,” I mumble, trying to hide immediate lack of interest in the stage show once Emily walked through the curtain.

“Only alright?” Emily says with a sweet giggle as she leans in, eager to hear every detail. Her sweet perfume lingering like a gentle touch on my senses, accompanying the gentle touch of her hand on my knee as she chats away.

“Surely you’re glad you came now?” She continues. “Should we get you another drink?”

Knowing I shouldn’t, knowing my head is already fuzzy from my night out, knowing that I shouldn’t be trying to ogle Emily’s tiny tight frame, knowing that all I can think about is what happens behind the velvet curtain and that would be a massive mistake sat here with my neighbour’s daughter.

With all that in mind I quickly respond, “yeah, let’s get one more!”

Emily keeps chatting as the waitress brings our drinks over, explaining that she had only got into this for one weekend to pay for a holiday, but she had found it so freeing and it’s not as sleazy as she first imagined. Telling me that all the other girls are so lovely, and not all the men are idiots.

Every word lingering on the soft, plump contours of her glossy lips drawing me in more and more to her magnetic character. My body reacts each subtle touch of my knee or shoulder, and I find myself drawn further into her enchanting presence, captivated by her allure.

“And behind the curtain?” I ask, not able to hold back my curiosity any longer.

“Oh! Would you like a dance?” Emily leans forward as she asks eagerly.

“I’m not sure. How would it even work.” I say. My interest is clear, but I still feel very uncertain.

“Well, there are three types of dance, each with its own pricing and intimacy level,” she explains, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “A standard dance is £20, it is performed as you seat here,” she says as she points out a couple of dances taking place for all to see. “It is very much about the tease and not touching or nudity.” I look at the other dancers, and while it is out in the open, the appeal of seeing Emily move in that way so close to me is difficult to resist.

“If you’re feeling a bit more daring,”she continues, “there’s a semi-private dance which takes place in a booth behind the curtain. It’s a bit more intimate, and there can be limited touching and more flesh allowed. It’s also a little longer if you’re happy to pay £40.” I nod as I take in her words, like a customer being taken through the specials at a fancy restaurant.

“There’s also the VIP dance, which is the ultimate experience. It’s a fully private dance that takes place in one of the VIP rooms that look out onto the club,” Emily explains as she points to panels of frosted windows on a mezzanine. “It is a lot more relaxed, and comes with its own private bar, where I can serve you drinks between dances which I’m able to do with the most physical contact and immersion in the performance,” Emily explains, her voice taking on a sultry tone. Emily’s words hang in the air, tempting me with possibility. “Half an hour in the VIP room will be £100.”

My head is swimming with all the options available to me, while Emily softly leans into me. My heart pounds in my chest. I look around expecting everyone in the club to be looking at me as I deliberate, but absolutely no one cares. I subtly look up and and down her young petite body and eventually say in a low whisper,

“Let’s have a standard dance!”

Emily jumps up in glee and immediately sits on my left knee.

“That’s great!” She squeals in an almost child like fashion, swinging an arm round my shoulders.

Her laughter fills the air as the club lights cast a warm glow around us, and I can’t help but smile in response.

“Erm, do I pay you now?” I ask as I have to lean into her to get to my wallet. My face almost resting on my shoulder. Emily pauses for a moment, her lips curving into a mischievous smile as she gazes into my eyes.

“Yes, if you can pay now. We can get started.” She sweetly says as she stands allowing me better access to my wallet. Handing over a £20 note, she flashes a mischievous smile and takes the money, tucking it away in a clutch bag with a playful flick of her short bobbed hair.

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