Playing The Field

He pushed away the sensation of seediness that made his stomach tense as he followed his friends through the revolving door. The soles of his shoes stuck to the carpet slightly, and he glanced down at the bawdy floral scarlet pattern, his mouth twisting in mild disgust.

“Right, Sim my lad – this is it. Your last night of freedom, old boy. Are you sure you’re up for the shackles?”

Sim smiled and shrugged. Was any man ever ready to tie the knot? And yet, if his nerves twisted in apprehension right now, it was much more to do with the potential perils of his stag night, than the concept of finally marrying Jessica tomorrow.

She. Was. All. Exotic, beautiful, funny, and his friend. For the first time in his twenty-eight years, Sim had found The. One. She felt like coming home. She was gorgeous, likeable, and clever. She made him feel like a great person. He loved, loved, loved the way he saw himself, reflected in his eyes. Through Jess, Sim had become so much more than he had been alone. If Jess adored him, he must be equally as funny, as good-looking, for otherwise, how had he managed to ensnare her, and persuade her to accept the solitaire, and then tomorrow, the ultimate agreement of commitment?

“Fuck it. Come on, I’m ready,” Sim said, and Jimmy grinned and handed over a wad of notes to the bored blonde cashier waiting to take their entrance fee.

“One last bang, for the buck, Sim old mate!” This from Frankie, the slimiest member of their gang. It had been Frankie’s idea to head into town for a last celebration before, as he put it, Sim ‘disappeared down the celibate rabbit hole’. Sim was OK with it. Tonight was traditional. And yet, despite the lewd sniggering, the general feeling of friendship and camaraderie, he was thinking only of Jess. How would she feel about what he was about to do? Would she be uncomfortable with it? Annoyed? Feel that he’d trespassed into a realm where trust was irrevocable? God, he hoped not. He respected her, perhaps more than she imagined. He wanted to go along with the stag party, of course he did. He loved the sense that his friends were all there for one last bawdy night, to wish him well. He trusted the guys. And yet, he felt nervous.

“SHOTS!” Alex screamed, making Sim jump as his brother lead him to the neon purple-lit bar and slammed a further wad of notes on the bar. A stunning girl with chestnut curls sidled up, coyly sucking her finger as she took Alex’s order. Sim closed his eyes for a second, breathing in the curling grey smoke from the dance floor. He looked up nervously at the centre stage, and his heart leapt.

The woman walking towards the stage was frankly, perfect. He felt immobilised, as he drank her in. The neon and black light turned her simple costume into a thing of magic. She was wearing a pure white bikini top, and a tiny thong. Her face was serene as she walked to the centre of the stage, and placed confident hands upon the pole.

“Fuuuuuck,” Sim breathed, mesmerised. The music changed suddenly, and all but the black lights dimmed. He reached out for his tequila shot without for one moment breaking his stare from the goddess on stage. The bass line started first; a hypnotic, rhythmic pulsing beat which pushed Sim’s senses to the limit. He found himself getting hard, just with the anticipation of seeing the perfect woman in front of him perform.

“Come on, Sim – sit down. Stop ogling the poor girl!” Alex laughed, but Sim shook his head.

“I want to watch. Last night of freedom, and all that!” Sim said, trying to laugh off how mesmerised he was. Alex shrugged, pushed another few shots towards Sim across the bar, and went off to grab a lap dance. He barely glanced at Jimmy as he paused next to him.
“OK dude? Up for this?” Jimmy asked, and Sim nodded without breaking his gaze from the stage.

The woman stood and looked out at the sea of men in front of her. A small smile played across he lips as the drum beat kicked in, swelling the bass with a rhythm that felt like sex, to Sim. She flexed the muscles in her toned arms as she grasped the pole, and slid them up and down with a suggestive gesture that made Sim start to sweat.

God, she was perfect. Beyond the black light highlighting her tiny bikini, her flesh was immaculate. Toned, firm and athletic, her waist pinched in to accentuate a perfectly flat stomach, the only blemish her navel, with only the mildest hint of abdominals suggesting the strength and fitness within.

Sim heard a collective gasp of admiration around him, as she commenced her routine. She used her legs to leap up the pole, climbing with such grace he couldn’t help comparing her with his Jess, who was klutzy and coltish.

She moved effortlessly, scaling the pole, and suddenly she was upside-down, her firm tan thighs gripping the metal, her arms outstretched like a ballerina before she flipped upright, legs fully straightened, and slid down rapidly.

He watched her, as the music built, vibrations from the bass pulsing upwards through the floor.

Her long hair fanned out as she danced, provocatively circling the pole, her impossibly high heels making the muscles in her calves flex as she twirled. He admired the fluid grace of her; the way her body worked with the pole like an athlete. There was something undeniably suggestive about the whole routine.

He tore his eyes away from her as Alex nudged him, his shot of tequila sloshing over the sugar coated rim of his glass.

“She’s brilliant, isn’t she?” his best friend and soon-to-be Best Man grinned. Sim nodded, watching her again as she shimmied up the pole, and then executed some impossibly-complex splits while swinging upside down.

“Really, really something else,” Sim acknowledged, and felt a tingle of excitement as he realised that he would possibly get to be alone with her after she’d finished dancing. His skin prickled with anticipation at the idea of having her close, in touching distance of her breasts, that sheet of hair, staring into those sparkling, mischievous eyes as she danced for him.

“I want a private dance with her,” Sim admitted, and Alex roared with laughter, sloshing more tequila as he slapped Sim on the back.

“Good for you, mate. It’s your one and only chance before Jess makes an honest man of you. I’ll arrange it with the lads.”

Sim smiled, surprised to feel himself blushing slightly as he glanced back at the woman. His stomach felt knotted as she slid down the pole one more time. The lights now full on her, Sim could see the glistening sheen of perspiration in her skin as she made one last revolution around the pole, and then walked towards the crowd of men ogling her.

She circled the stage, allowing guys to tuck notes into her thong. As she saw Alex, he beckoned her forward and talked to her, gesturing towards Sim. She turned and grinned as their eyes met, and inclined her head towards the left of the stage, where the private lap dancing booths were.

Sim tossed back the last two shots on the bar, and wiped his clammy hands on his jeans. This was it. Up close and personal with the most stunning dancer he’d ever seen. He walked across to the booth as she approached, and with a smile, held out her hand. He clasped it, allowing her to draw him into the scarlet-walled space, and push him gently down onto the seat.

“Good evening, Sir. Your friend suggested you may want a private dance, is that right?” the girl asked, her eyes sparkling as she turned from him, and expertly unclasped her bra. Sim just coughed and stared at her toned, lean back, licking his lips more from nervousness than lust as she turned back to face him. Immediately, he felt the surge of his erection as his eyes travelled to her firm, pale breasts. God. She was incredible.

“You know the rules, right? No touching. No kissing. Behave,” she cautioned, and Sim nodded ruefully. What he wouldn’t give to reach out right now, and pull her to him. To let his hands roam up and down the taut curves and those breasts. His eyes widened as she suddenly straddled him, and he sat on his hands to make sure he didn’t contravene the rules for the bar.

“You. Are. Beautiful,” Sim breathed, as she let her hair fall over the two of them, and then pushed her head back, exposing her delicate throat, her breasts, the smooth arch of her back and taut stomach. She smiled at him coquettishly, and continued to dance.

It was over too soon. Sim groaned at the tension in his groin from having her so close, and felt a stab of disappointment at the prospect of never being able to visit a private club again, after tomorrow.

He stood up, as she turned to face him, a broad smile making him grin back in return.

“So, Sim. How was that?” she asked. He reached his hands out, and she moved towards him, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. Sim groaned, and then couldn’t stop himself touching her, moving his warm palms in wide sweeps across her back. He kissed her deeply, and she nestled into him for a moment.

“I suppose I’d better get back to work, babe,” Jess whispered, and Sim reluctantly let her go. “I don’t want to piss management off, on the last night of the job.”

As Jess walked from the booth with a last smile back towards him, Sim returned to join his friends. They cheered when he emerged, flushed and grinning, and pushed another shot glass into his hands.

“You lucky bastard, Sim.” Frankie said, laughing, and Sim nodded his head in agreement. He was. He really was.