Insomnia & The Pole Dance Club

6-cleopatraI couldn’t sleep last night so I ventured out for a petite stroll in this not only cosmopolitan but also bohemian quarter of the capital city. As I casually sauntered passed the many late night eateries, bars and even a few establishments of ill repute I noticed a 24hr convenience store and thus decided to venture inside.
After a short time spent perusing the abundant assortment of confectionery items on display, I made my selections and took the items to the service counter.The plump assistant upon scanning my choice of confectionery via the hand held point of sale terminal then requested a total sum of £4.32 from me to conclude the transaction and my contribution to the stores financial profit or loss reporting.
I remunerated the shop assistant with a shoddy £20 note faintly bearing HM Queen Elizabeth’s portrait, she of course accepted my note and in return passed on to me the excess monies from the transaction consisting of a crisp new £10 note and some copper and silver coins. After which she deposited my purchases into a small plastic carrier bag all the time displaying a very natural or unforced smiled.
I bid the plump but polite shop assistant farewell, picked up the ‘blight to our green earth’ plastic carrier bag containing my assorted confectionery, and left the establishment.
Incredibly, after departing the convenience store and only a few metres into my voyage home and to my embarrassment with said bag and money still in hand, I fell over a crack in the payment.
As my non green plastic bag containing the confectionery became airborne (to this moment I have no idea where it finally came to rest) my body travelled the opposite direction and rolled between two burly doormen and bashed through the swinging doors of a dancing establishment.
Whilst in this uncontrolled and violent motion I tried every effort to clutch on to the excess coins and the crisp £10 note returned to me from my purchases at the convenience store. However, it was all in vain, so whilst I rolled and the coins bounced off the walls the crisp £10 note also left my grasp went up in the air and came to rest on the entry counter inside the dance club.
Unfortunately, before I could get back on my feet compose myself and recover my money, the half-naked and very desirable young girl sat in the dance clubs security kiosk behind the counter, had already purloined my crisp £10 note. Literally, in a twinkle of a bare nipple, she had deposited my crisp note in to the cash register and issued me a voucher allowing me to cross the security threshold and enter the said club.

As you all know I am an honourable and upright citizen therefore I made no quarrel I did not bicker and not cause any fall out, instead I thought this might be Gods way of telling me to go into the establishment and preach some righteousness to the alliance of patrons and staff in this den of debauchery.

As I entered into the cavern of lewdness, I was blinded by young bare flesh gesticulating to erotic choreography. Being a man in control I remained focus, I was on a mission and so I looked away, and proceeded to the beverage service area whereupon I asked the Hispanic looking bartender for an orange juice.  The bartender immediately fulfilled my request and then summoned me to shell out  £4.50 for the small glass containing the beverage. Such an exorbitant fee I felt however, I succumbed to the request without any dispute and provided the bartender with the exact amount of our Queen Elizabeth’s currency.

Then I was troubled once again.
As I picked up my drink and turned around to amble away from the aforementioned area of obscenity, I sensed the touch of bare flesh against my left hand. I quickly looked in the direction below and to my utter revulsion my hand had been placed by a semi naked female onto her own buttocks.
For a moment, I shall say I was shocked and horror-struck, even though her skin for a split second did feel pleasurably warm and silky smooth. Nevertheless, I knew this was wrong and so I immediately removed my hand from the warm silky smooth buttocks belonging to the young girl dressed only in a glittery thong and bra set with matching Cleopatra style head wear and very high heeled sparkling shoes. I invited her to join me at the VIP seated area to discuss the intrinsic worth of her chosen profession against respectability and moralistic virtues.
At first, she looked a little puzzled but as I was returning my wallet to my pocket she smiled and then obliged, and so we both proceed to take a seat at a leather sofa designed for two at the farther end of the cavern of debauchery.

The young girl introduced herself as Cleo as in Cleopatra, How becoming I replied what a beautiful name for such a beautiful girl she smiled and slid closer to me on the sofa designed for two.
I did not tell her my name but slowly and gradually began to make my attempt to help this girl change her ways. After about 10 minutes, she eventually promised that she would change but in exchange for her promise, I would have to compensate her for a private dance, whatever that meant. I then asked her for the total sum for the proposed private dance.
She replied £10.
Only £10 I thought, such a small price to pay for changing someone’s life for the good.
We both stood up from the leather sofa designed for two and she led me through the other patrons and semi nude girls into a small isolated but luxurious box room where she asked me to take a seat on the sole chair.
Praise the lord Hallelujah, may god forgive me, for about 3 minutes
Cleopatra danced, gyrated, removed her thong and bra top, titillated, twisted  and shaped into positions that I thought were only possible by a circus contortionist.
Even before she had finished I was dazed and stunned, once finished she thanked me and promised me she was going to change. I was pleased and felt a kind of warmth knowing that my tolerance of such obscenity for a few minutes and not forgetting the £10 was going to change someone’s life.

While she went on her way to lead a righteous life I walked around this cavern of debauchery to further assess other girls and ascertain if it was possible to also change their lives to more respectable and virtuous ones. After several further private dances, I not only failed in further success but also was now preaching with an empty wallet and so I turned to leave this establishment of ill repute.

However as I made for the exit my eye turned to another almost naked girl who looked very much like Cleo, however she could not have been my dear reformed Cleo because this girl wasn’t wearing the Cleopatra style head wear or the sparkling silver thong and bra top, besides all that my dear Cleo had promised me she was going to change.

With that feeling of warmth and an empty wallet I made my way home and to my bed all the time thinking, if only all girls were easy to rehabilitated as my dear Cleo.



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