Nights in a Booth
her chiseled body swirled down the pole,
her high heels kicking in the air as she landed on
the platform. she was breathing in the gasps of
the crowd, drawing life from the lustful gazes glued on her.
the spotlights made the sweat on her silky skin to glisten,
and her long, auburn hair flowed down her shoulders.
with a smile that could hypnotize anyone she unbuckled her
top, revealing her monstrous tits to the astonished crowd.
I was in my booth, swigging Four Roses out of the bottle and
holding a pencil between my fingers, ready to violate another
cocktail napkin. she crawled around the
platform, almost had sex with the steel pole standing there
like a massive phallus; most of the men in the room
ordered drinks and the song came to an end.
she picked up her top and strutted away. they wanted
an encore; someone else climbed on
the platform and a rock song (guess which) blared from the speakers.
“liked the show?” she asked as she crawled into my booth
and stole a sip out of my bottle.
“you’re a true artist,” I said. “the Rembrandt of stripping.”
“you know you’ll get laid even without the cheesy compliments, right?”
“I’m aware,” I chuckled and had a long pull out of the bottle.
she wrung the bottle out of my grip, had a good sip, then blew a kiss
on my lips. it was time to do her rounds, give lapdances to desperate
fuckers eager to feel a woman’s touch no matter the cost.
I remained on the booth, drinking and scribbling cheap poems on
napkins. none of the other working girls approached; they were
all afraid of my Gina. the night was
over, I had more than a fifth of Four Roses in my bloodstream,
and we took the bus to my apartment. the ride sobered me up
just enough to get an erection; we fucked, and at eight in the
morning I cracked a fresh bottle of bourbon, toasting the saps
coming to work at the office building across the street.
Gina was fast asleep on my bed and my fingers were on
fire, typing out meaningless poems faster than my
hazy brain could process them. two hours later,
I passed out and her kisses riled me out of
my beautiful slumber, forcing me to make coffee
and share a kiss with her before she had to
shower and get ready for another long night.
Horror Sleaze Trash 