Strip clubs and emotional porn

Certain types of night life aren’t precisely what I would call ‘my scene’. I am talking, in particular, of the more sexual kind of clubs, including strip clubs, male or female, and never would I have expected to find a bright red thong underneath a navy uniform, after all, real life is not Magic Mike. Imagine my shock when, what I’ve only seen in movies, was playing out in front of my very eyes!

emotional porn

Scratching sound.

Yes, that’s me. You are probably wondering how I got here, so let me start from the beginning.

A few weeks ago, I received a last minute invitation to a bachelorette party of a friend of a friend of a friend. Perfect situation for I am great at first impressions and mingling with strangers, despite that, I said yes. They made me sign an invisible contract that bound me to absolute secrecy on what happened during the party itself, although I can say some random words: Fast and furious, Russia, shots, pizza, Prince of Persia, glitter, emotional porn, glow in the dark, blisters.

At least that’s all I can remember, so I won’t dwell on any of these words but the pair: emotional porn.

I walked into that strip club, sorry: ‘male burlesque show’, with a very vague and Hollywood-esque idea of what would be thrown in my face, and with a decent amount of alcohol intake to allow me to overthink things yet participate in the general crowd cheering.

What immediately struck me was the omnipresent theme in whatever was happening on stage. I thought the theme would be male genitalia and, boy, was I wrong! It started off with a series of Princes from faraway lands who were sword-fighting to conquer the heart of a young virgin picked from the crowd. There were armours, chains, synthetic fur, and I felt in my element.

As a Dungeons and Dragons player, I was utterly pleased with the idea of having my favourite fantasy characters come to life under such naughty light! I also think I was missing the point, since seeing them fight was more exciting than their tanned buns.

Much to my disappointment, the historical show and its Gregorian music was interrupted by boy-band impersonations, various pop culture references, and romantic movies excerpts played out with hens from the audience.

What triggered my whirl of thoughts was the generous sprinkle of winks, smiles, silently spelled “I love you"’s, and personal addressing to members of the audience while performing.

I know girls, generally speaking, love romance. That’s the sole reason of all that squealing at the sight of diamond rings and white gowns, but to actually witness a crowd of hyped tipsy empowered women break into an ‘awww’ when the Prince of Persia kisses a participating girl on the hand and holds her while whispering stage directions into her ear, it is something else. Remember that toned pecs were all over the stage at that very moment, and no one cared about them for the duration of a sigh.

You haven’t experienced girl bonding until Prince of Temptation points at the friend sitting next to you and winks at her with a cheeky smile. That was pure joy on her face, more than having a half-naked Russian bartender pouring shots into his belly button for her to drink. I am clearly making that up, it totally did not happen.

Where were we? Oh yes, emotional porn.

You see, those stolen moments of intimacy, if so can be called, and gentle gestures seem to be necessary for the perfect ‘male burlesque show’. It can’t be just balls in your face. Let’s be honest, nobody wants to see that. But to see Princes fighting over me because they truly love me? Yeah, I’m sold. Keep the glittery thongs on, boys, I prefer the fantasy.



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