Whiskey In A Teacup

Chapter Four

'Hey old man, how about that blonde over there?'

I followed Trey's gaze, to a woman sitting at the other end of the bar, circling the top of her glass with a finger. I could tell this was part of her routine even though i'd been out of the game for some time. She looked over at Trey, a coy smile on her lips.

'I think she's fallen for you, buddy.'

I slapped him on the back, as he took his cue and headed over to her, leaving me sitting on the bar stool like a spare part. I watched them for a while, trying not to look like some creep as Trey worked his magic. The boy knew what he was doing. He seduced her with finesse and even though I didn't keep time, I'm pretty sure it took him less than five minutes to have her wrapped around his finger. And his torso.

My eyes trailed the highly glossed bar and night club, the bass line thumping through the floor, reverberating through me. It would be impossible for anyone to hear anything without leaning in to whisper in the ear of their companion. Maybe that was the idea, in any other situation, getting so close so soon would send alarm bells off in the head of a woman. But accompanied by generic RnB music, it was acceptable. Bodies writhed against one another, almost like a mating dance, the women picking off the weaker men and upgrading to tall, tanned men who looked like they lived in a gym, standing around the dance floor ready to thrust against the pretty nightclubbers on the dance floor.

I felt old. Really old. Like any second the police would arrive and escort me off the presence for being some ancient p*****t hanging around a club I had no business being at. While Trey went from woman to woman till they all seemed to be hanging off him, I drank my weight in beer. The prices were twice what I'd pay in O'Flanagan's but Trey had a tab. Of course he did. He had to come here at least twice a week. I went to take a piss, jostling past the heaving, dancing bodies and making my way to the rest room.

Standing in front of the mirror, washing my hands, I was thankful of a little silence. The bass line was still present, but the rest of the music was blissfully drowned out and finding myself alone I washed my face. It's something I did whenever I got nervous, whenever I felt like the proverbial fish out of water. I'd never done the whole clubbing scene. By the time I was old enough to drink in places like this I had two children and a job that I committed myself to. I didn't have time to miss doing all the things I should have been doing, because my life was so full on, so crazy, that I had no choice but to go with it.

The overwhelming urge to go visit the girls was halted only by my fear of face to face rejection. They were avoiding me. They felt betrayed by me. Maybe they thought I should have worked harder with their mother. Maybe they were right.

I heard the door open but I was too wrapped up in my own self created world to see who entered. I washed my face again, leaning over the sink, and trying to take in as much air as my lungs could accommodate. As you might imagine, air quality in here wasn't premium but it served to soothe my galloping heart.

'You've been in here a really long time guy.'

I turned my head, surprised to hear a female voice. Standing against the closed rest room door, stood a brunette wearing daisy dukes and a silver chainmail top. She couldn't be more than twenty one.

'Youre checking up on me?' I asked with humour, realising that Trey probably sent her in here.

'I work here.' She took a step forward, crossing her arms across her generous bust. 'Colin, my manager, he asked me to step in here. It's not usually a good sign when a guy holes up in the rest room for forty five minutes.'

Forty five minutes? How had so much time passed? Why hadn't Trey come looking for me?

Two words. t**s and ass.

'What did you expect to find.' I asked, turning back to the sink and realising how blood shot my eyes were.

The woman sighed. 'Just get your ass out into the club mister, I don't want anyone slitting their wrists in here while I'm on shift.'

That's how pathetic people thought I was. The kind of guy that offs himself in a club bathroom. Did I look like that guy? Once last glimpse in the mirror told me yes.

I looked very much like the down trodden misery that chose to end it all in a place like this.

I strode past her, opened the door and headed back through the club to the exit. I didn't care where Trey was, or what he was doing. I wasn't his wing man tonight. He'd brought me here in the hope that it would get me out of my funk. In reality, it had only reminded me of what a loser I really was.

As I walked past the cloakroom, the brunette caught up with me.

She was fast in those silver six inch heels. I guess they teach them how to run in heels at stripper school. Anything to pull in the punters.

She blocked my path, hands on her hips.

'We have a little offer tonight. A free dance for any newcomer. Looks like you won.'

'Leave me alone lady. Seriously, do I look like a guy who wants to be here?'

'Do you have a d**k?'

I stared at her, dumbfounded.

'If you have a d**k, and your male and you're not gay, I'm pretty sure it's against guy rules to turn down a free lap dance.'

I was so close to leaving. But I'd also been without s****l gratification for a very long time. Living with Trey was a Godsend, I was lucky to have him close by, and for him to offer his home to me. But it also meant I didn't get much time by myself. And I hadn't had s*x in I don't even know how long.

I knew I wasn't getting laid tonight, either, but a lap dance would be escapism. It'd be a brief moment away from my sorry existence. I didn't have much else to look forward to.

And....It was free.

And, it would be gratifying.

'Come with me.'

She sensed that I'd changed my mind about leaving, and I didn't fight her as she took my hand and led me back through the club. Trey wasn't here. Neither were the red head and the blonde he'd been cavorting with. I'd probably return home to over exaggerated noises and the scent of over powering perfume. I was used to it, but tonight I could have done without it.

She led me to a room beside the rest room, and as I walked in I could smell the fragrance of incense and animal hide. The room was large, studded with dancing poles and expensive looking leather furniture. I could only imagine that this room was used for corporate clientele who wanted the five star treatment. The brunette clapped her hands and a gentle Latin beat started. Her hair had been tied at the nape of her neck, but with her back to me, she untied it, a curtain of dark brown wavy hair cascading over her back.

'Sit down.' She urged me, without turning around, and I found myself falling into a plush red leather armchair that reminded me of Morpheus' chair from the Matrix.

She turned around, her back against a pole, and she meandered down it, hips snaking like a lazy Susan. And I was glad I hadn't left.

She was not my type at all, and I was glad.

My whole life I'd gone after blondes. Granted I'd only had two girlfriends before Caroline but I'd always held that age old saying to heart. Gentlemen prefer blondes.

I don't know what it was. Athletic, flaxen hair, blue eyes, that was my thing. This girl was the polar opposite, but I didn't care. I needed to let off some steam, even though it would probably result in me becoming more pent up and aggressive.

As she moved closer I couldn't take my eyes off her. Caroline had been fairly flat chested, and that had always been fine with me, whereas this woman was well endowed. Compared to my ex wife, anyway. I guessed she was around a C cup, and as she turned around, a shapely, pert ass coming into view, I felt my balls tighten. My mind flitted to the image of cupping her heavy breasts, lowering my head to....

Stop it. She's a dancer. She does this with everyone. She's not your type. You're getting carried away.

My eyes trailed over the small of her back, to her shapely, round ass and I couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like against me.

I didn't have long to wait till I found out.

She flicked her hair over one shoulder, and perched herself on my lap. I looked into deep, dark brown eyes, framed with long, thick lashes. Her skin was olive coloured, a golden tan that reminded me of caramel.

And caramel was my favourite treat.

She worked herself against me, and I tried to grit my teeth and steel the urgent erection that was probably noticeable from outer space right now. I regretted coming in here, at the same time I didn't.

She was good. Really good.

For my first ever lap dance, I was a pretty happy customer.

The song finished too soon, and she pulled herself out of my lap, hands plucking a hair tie from her pocket and fastening her hair once more.

She had succeeded in taking my mind away from my worries for a few minutes.

'Next time you feel like ending it all, Mister dark and mysterious, come see me.....I'm Aurora.'