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| Blogs > rm_sugarmc2 > The Sugar Bowl |
Time for class, not arse!!
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Time for class, not arse!! So here goes, my first venture into writing....I will realease a chapter at a time. It is entitled: How to be a Gentlemen, in a Gentlemen's Club Chapter 1 A tall, reasonably attractive guy approaches a red door, opened by two burly henchmen. He walks up a long, intimidating flight of stairs with confidence, coolness and familiarity. As he reaches his ascent of the grandiose, stair case. The environment reveals itself as a lavish, upmarket gentleman’s club. Dimly lit, with highlights of neon, highlighting but yet, concealing the employee's and their clientele. Peppered throughout the venue, paraded, scantily clad, gorgeous, women of all shapes and sizes. They buzzed around the room amongst the patrons, like bees to nectar. The nectar after all, being in the customers wallets, cold hard, cash. After all that was the end goal for the pseudo-starlets. I swaggered through the thick majestic door way, that was thrust ajar for me, bounding in to the smell of lavender and vanilla. Full to the brim of confidence, knowing that I was in my natural habitat. A habitat, where I was the king of the jungle, the top dog, the alpha male and most of the other men quivered with nervousness at the site and contact of the female form in all it’s splendour. Then I spotted her and everything turned on its head Tight skimpy red dress, or was it negligee? It hung off her curvaceous body, just ever so slightly, revealing her milky firm bottom. It was a Goldilocks derriere, "just right". I looked at her again, more closely. Then I saw it. The cheeky glint coming from her eyes, shining and dancing like nothing I had seen before. They reminded me of the Adriatic, clean, pure and full of passion. But as I looked closer, there was an undertone of confidence. She was in her element and it crossed my mind, that she may well take me out of my comfort zone. The thought of the unknown, flooded over me and radiated through my inner core. Then to top it off, my heart skipped a couple of beats. I took another glance and studied her. She was the most beautiful woman I had seen in a long time. It was as if, God had asked me, "So…if I could make you, your ideal woman. What would she look like?". So I gave him the spec's. And he came up trumps. Thanks, big fella. She noticed me staring at her and she just stared right back. It almost seemed as if, she was fighting my gaze. So, I mustered all of the Dutch courage, that the three fingers of 15 year old Glenmorangie imbued in me and flashed her my cheekiest, naughtiest smile. "Confident and in control", I said to myself. “That should do it". But what came back from her, was a smile so pure, genuine, mischievous and confident, that It felt like she saw right through me. I started to feel nervous and my palms clammed up. The Ferrari red lipstick emphasized, her full luscious lips and to this day, I can still remember her smile. It lit up the entire room, filling it, with wonder, beauty, zest and a whole truck load of naughty. I struggled with the notion, that maybe I was out of my depth, but that concept dissipated quickly. After all, she is still just a woman. And like all other women, they have common, desires and dreams. All the fundamentals still applied to her, even if she is absolutely stunning. I had to have her and the yearning came from deep within my loins. It was getting uncomfortable. I shimmied my stance, ahhh relief. Time to reflect on past experiences and lessons taught. I needed a plan. This Blog is proudly supported by the letter's A, H and Z and the number 11 Anything authored on this Blog by sugarmc2 is the soul intellectual property of MACCAW PTYLTD and cannot be reproduced or plagiarised in any form, with out prior written consent, by sugarmc2 Any other views expressed that have not been written by sugarmc2 are solely the opinions of the original author and are in no way a reflection on sugarmc2 or MACCAW PTYLTD2014 We r judged by r actions, not r intentions |
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