This is really innapropriate- no sex or anything but it is pretty hardcore. Read on if you dare. I don't know what this is so imma just go and bury my head in another fanfiction.
Ever since I was 10 I wondered to myself what it would be like at a gay club. Who would be there? What would happen? Would there be cookies? But then I found that all out. From the age of 17 I knew I was homosexual and started to go to gay clubs with my boyfriend, Alex. I was still really surprised that our friendship lasted 3 years and then a relationship for 1 more. Being a couple was great. But not for long.
"And so I said to him, I said 'no, you're the one being homophobic. I'm the one who's gay' and he burst out into tears!!!" Alex slurred laughing. He was drunk OFF OF HIS FEET and wasn't making any sense right now.
I chuckled loudly over the music, not sure what was so funny, but if I didn't laugh he would think I was distracted by other guys or something.
The gay club was my home. It was literally like I lived there. I drank. I danced. I slept. I was there so often that if I missed an hour the bar tenders would start to worry. They knew my usual drink, the times I came and went, the music I enjoyed. It was all so connected and running smoothly.
Every night there would either be a stripper or a poledancer at 11pm, and now was the time.
I always looked forward to watching feminine men swirling around the pole. Or ripping off their clothes. Not that it pleasured me, per say, I just really loved the entertainment.
"Alex, come on." I took his hand gently and pulled him through the bunches of people to the stage which stood in the middle of the dance floor. We put our drinks on the edge of the stage and I unbuttoned my shirt ready to get hot and flustered.
Alex did too.
Suddenly the music stopped and everyone went silent. Even the bartenders stopped washing the dishes. The sound of high heels echoed as they clip-clopped slowly towards the stage. Everyone's ears pricked up like cats and the attention of the room turned to the figure.
I turned and sighed at the sight. The face was covered in a long black robe, just underneath his eyes like a mifdle-eastern woman. His eyes were covered in makeup-foundation, fake eyelashes, eyebrows done, eyeshadows, winged eyeliner. Everything you can imagine put on a pair of eyes alone. His hair was swooped to the side and his sides were shaved. He wore a black coat and black pants, leading down to gigantic platform heels.
Once he was stood in the center of the stage we realised he was both a striper and a pole dancer. Even better.
The man held the pole with one hand up high and wrapped one leg around it elegantly. He turned his face to the side but looked down in wait for the music.
Suddenly feeling myself came on and he took his leg down, starting to walk slowly in circles to the ghostly introduction melody. His hips swayed in each step he took and his hand kept firm hold of the pole.
"I'm feelin' myself, I'm feelin' myself, I'm feelin' my- I'm feelin' myself, I'm feelin' myself, I'm feelin' my feelin' my- feeling myself, I'm feeling myself, I'm feeling my, feeling myself, I'm feeling myself, I'm feeling my..." During this part the man some how climbed up the pole using only his legs and everyone started cheering. Mouths watering. Boyfriends grumbling in jealousy.
