Saturday, November 15, 2008
What is it about a stripper pole? No matter who you are, a stripper pole has some sort of allure. Something happens to people when the lights begin to pulse, the music blasts its thumping rhythm, and there you are, up on the dance box... suddenly, something comes over and you become a sex kitten. Am I right or what? Or is it just me?
Is it just me who slides down the pole, separating my knees at the bottom, grinding my way back up, as I undulate my body to the beat, with my lips parted, and a come-fuck-me look emanating from my eyes, tossing my imaginary hair side to side, then hands on hips, thrusting my pelvis back and forth, wetting my lips, ending with a pout of insouciance... sorry... had a moment.
I don't think it's just me. My friend C. says that stripper poles bring out the fantasy in everyone. Especially the wallflowers. But most certainly the exhibitionists. That would explain me. Later.
Is it just me who slides down the pole, separating my knees at the bottom, grinding my way back up, as I undulate my body to the beat, with my lips parted, and a come-fuck-me look emanating from my eyes, tossing my imaginary hair side to side, then hands on hips, thrusting my pelvis back and forth, wetting my lips, ending with a pout of insouciance... sorry... had a moment.
I don't think it's just me. My friend C. says that stripper poles bring out the fantasy in everyone. Especially the wallflowers. But most certainly the exhibitionists. That would explain me. Later.
