This tune reminds of a serious case of stripper crush I had. Everytime I hear it I think of her. Her name was Claire. I would have married her. Actually, that’s probably not true.
B, Plato and I went out drinking for a mutual friends birthday and all of a sudden this friend announces that he wants to go to a lapdancing club. Sure, fine, whatever so off we went. Plato and I went off to raid a cash machine so by the time we got there B and the birthday boy were already surrounded by about six strippers, the place was dead and there was no one else for them to talk to.
Plato and I were more interested in drinking than women so after making a few introductions and letting people know that we had arrived we headed for the bar, found a couple of stools and promptly started knocking back beer after beer. No doubt some deeply interesting conversation took place as it usually does between the pair of us but I don’t remember it. What I do remember is that I heard a luscious female voice softly calling my name and that this immediately got my attention and I turned around in my seat.
Between the seating area and the bar were a couple of steps and coming up them was this woman in her early twenties, waist length golden hair in voluminous curls; teal and black corset and stockings finished with a pair of open toed high heels. Behind her, grinning like in that idiotic way that only a woman can produce in a man was B. I shot Plato a glance and his eyebrows raised slightly in an expression that means something between “this is interesting” and “what the mother fuck?”
She struts up like she owns the place, slips herself between my legs and starts stroking my thighs. I looked down at her hands for a second or so then looked up into her sapphire blue eyes and was stunned. She had total confidence, she knew exactly what she was doing; I felt myself in a battle of wills and it was awesome. It’s the kind of feeling that I get when I spar with someone really good, the joy of meeting someone who is genuinely a challenge. “I’m taking your friend for a dance” she announces calmly, still staring into my eyes. In my peripheral vision I could see B over her shoulder, still grinning away. “You’re paying for it!” he yells.
For another second I held the eyecontact, enjoying the tension, wondering if she’d start to feel uncomfortable at some point or if she’d just keep staring. The hands kept stroking, the eyes didn’t move, the tension was awesome and for the first time I noticed the intoxicating mix of perfume and makeup. I actually began to feel intimidated and I love women that can intimidate me. I glanced at B and smiled, returned my eyes to hers and said “I see, this is a “senior student looks after his juniors moment”” “Yeah exactly” agreed B excitedly “I’ll pay you back later”.
If she knew then or not that I wanted her I don’t know. She totally took my mind, right then and there I knew I wanted her. She was so different from nearly every woman I’d ever met. Looking into those eyes I began sizing her up mentally, like I would an opponent, looking to see if there was an opening there, a break in the concentration, a hint of nervousness, there was nothing. Just total confidence.
You have no idea how seductive and intoxicating that was. For days all I could think about was her. Weeks even. Even now I still smile when I think about her, I still sigh a little and I wonder if I’ll ever meet anyone like her again.