Dance of the Dragon

It has been years since I’d been to a strip club. This one looks the same as all the other ones I had attended in my youth. Smells the same too. A strange combination of stale booze, seductive perfume, and sweat. The bass strums through the floor, vibrating through me, luring me with its magic. The lights are turned low, even though no performers are present. The mood is set with a sense of anticipation laced with excitement. I sip my beer as I await my childhood classmate. He has enticed me to join him with promises of pleasantries performed. By the professionals, I hope, and not himself. I sit in front of the empty stage, a lonely companion in a sea of thirsty travelers.

The song changes to a deep bass accompanied by a soft staccato. One shapely leg appears from behind the floor to ceiling curtains, tipped with the highest of stilettos, tapping in time to the beat. The black pumps release an audible click in rhythm with the music. A hand fashioning long red claws separates the curtain to reveal a curvy woman, red lingerie hugging her full, warm copper figure. She steps in time to the bass, one leg and then the other. Her breasts bounce inside her crimson bustier, the molded globes begging to be sucked, licked, feasted upon. Voluptuous hips sway as she walks, hypnotizing me, filling my mind with visions of sex and nights of debauchery.

Her body is exposed to my prying eyes, just the prized parts are hidden, those secret places made for exploring, enjoying. She wears a hooded cape, scales dripping from the red fabric. It glitters under the multitude of lights, sets sparkles in my eyes. As she twirls in place, a silken tail encircles her, wrapping her in its incrusted gems. Reflecting the light from above, she is bathed in a kaleidoscope of colour.

I watch, fascinated, as she slides gracefully to the center pole. Effortlessly, she spins around it, her torso rippling as her legs wrap around majestically. As she spreads her arms, the cape fans out, creating wings on her curvaceous form, the shimmer of gemstones makes it appear as if her flesh is rippling. I sit transfixed, enraptured by her womanly charms. Her eyes turn to me, the honied irises luring me in, absorbing my strength, making me want to succumb to her advances. Her smile widens to reveal perfect white teeth, the grin of a predator. I gasp as I take in the full image of a dragon, a beautiful mystical creature. Her beauty is undefinable, her sexuality speaking to my own.

She continues her seduction, swaying her hips, and frees her full breasts from their confinement. She palms the perfect orbs in hands too small to contain the loveliness they encompass. My tongue peeks out, hoping for a taste, a hint of the sweetness they possess. As she dances, her gaze stays upon me, like she’s dancing solely for me, daring me to look away, yet holding me, as if I am a hostage. Her eyes dance over me, undress me as if I too were on display. I shuffle in my seat, but keep my sights on her, on her exquisiteness.

With her back to the pole, she shimmies down the length, her powerful thighs spreading to give me a glimpse of what I seek. Her natural skin tone contrasts with the thinnest silk covering in matching crimson. It would be so easy to rip it away, exposing her most intimate area, to claim it as if it’s mine for the taking. She traces the line of her long legs with clawed fingers, her blood-red nails digging into her beautiful flesh.

Crawling towards me, I watch as her hips dip and rise with each stride. Her breasts hang, sway as she makes her way. They call out to me, begging to be plucked, tweaked, suckled, bitten. A moan escapes me as I think about how they would fit inside my hands, my mouth. Stopping before me, her legs once again spread before she pulls the thinnest of strings on either hip, releasing the bows tied there. As the material flutters away, I am given a glimpse of her most private area. The darker labia slightly openned to give a delicious peek of the pink within. Her bare flesh glistens under the cascade of artificial light and I can’t help but to lick my lips as I think about doing the same to hers.

In a move too fast to be anything other than the slight it is, her legs snap shut. She releases a giggle as I sigh, feeling like a gift has been taken away. Sensually climbing to her hands and knees, she turns, delighting me with a view of her glorious backside. The full globes fill my vision, and she shakes her prized peach before me, tempting me to reach out and grab it. Separate the twin orbs and dive in.

Lowering her chest to the stage floor, her hips are pushed into the air. As her legs separate, I catch a glimpse of a tight puckered hole, gloriously on display above her body’s entrance. My own body responds as I visualize taking her there, squeezing past her tightness. I press down on my erection, but it’s no use, I’ve let my thoughts go too far.

A hand clamps down on my shoulder, “Sorry I’m late, had to get the kids settled. Should we go get some grub?”

My eyes leave the seductress on stage involuntarily and settle on the intrusion before me. Sighing, I nod my head. I can always return later. I turn back to the goddess who owns the stage, her mouth is set in a pout, her fingers waggling to me in farewell.

As we make our way towards the exit, I catch a glimpse of a club advertisement. Centered, surrounded by clipart of the well-known Asian dragons, is the Goddess who embodies the stage. Draikina is her stage name. She-dragon. I couldn’t have given her a more apt name, had I tried. At the bottom in gold letters is the phrase: One Night Only. How lovely that I got to see her perform, how cruel that I’ll never know her real name or the way she tastes.

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