Pole

The music had stopped and the trance was broken. The stripper seemed a little out of breath and went with a hand through his hair. Marco stared up to him, blinking like he just woke up from a dream. And what a wonderful dream it had been.

"I take it you enjoyed the show?" The freckled man grinned at him. "I have to be on stage in a few." He took a step closer, caressing with his hand across the blonde's unshaven chin and leaned in, whispering: "Happy birthday~" With that, he left the small room, leaving Marco feeling a strange mixture of arousal and confusion.

He didn't know how long he sat there, alone, on that chair, without a stripper dancing around him. Finally, his mind had crawled out of the gutter and his body allowed him to get up. After all, his dancer would be performing again…

Outside of the room, Marco cast a glance at the stage – and immediately regretted it. The freckled stripper wasn't on yet. Instead, there was a man, wearing a purple leotard cut out low and fishnet stockings. The combination would not look good on anybody, but the man wearing it had definitely not the posture for it. He was also wearing heavy make-up. In all, the sight made Marco cringe. However, Izo was sitting in the front row, encouraging the stripper when he yelled "Yihaw!" and danced around obscenely.

Shaking his head – and trying to get that mental image from his mind's eye – Marco decided to find Thatch. The poor guy should be pretty drunk right now.

As expected, he found his friend at the bar, emptying his who knew how many shot glass and turned around when the blonde called his name. "Marco! You're back! You brain still intact?" Thatch snickered and hiccupped.

"I'm fine," Marco deadpanned. Without the gorgeous stripper in sight, he could think straight again.

"Oh, that reminds me!" The brown haired man slapped on his leg. "I found you another one you might like." He pulled at an annoyed looking stripper's hand. "See? Nice and sturdy, just how you like it."

Marco eyed the exotic dancer with a sceptic look. Sure, he was good looking, with his muscular upper body and tanned skin. He had a handsome face, a strong jaw and from his left ear hung three earrings. But why the green hair? And when Marco looked down, he saw that the man was only clad in a thong – which wasn't weird per se, they were in strip club after all – but from his side hung three swords. Really, what was up with that?

"Thatch, let go of the nice man," he said in a stern voice.

His friend pouted. "What? Don't you like him?"

Marco exchanged a glace with the stripper, who seemed to be wanting to be anywhere but here, if his scowl was anything to go by. "Sure. But I'm gonna take you home now. You're drunk."

"But I'm just starting to like it here!" Thatch protested, only proving how drunk he really was.

The blonde sighed. "Of course you do. Now, stay here and be a good boy while I get Izo. And no touching strippers!"

The brown haired man pouted a little, but seemed to have forgotten all about it when a new drink as placed in front of him. Shaking his head, Marco headed for the stage where he had last seen Izo. There, he froze.

His freckled stripper had taken the stage again. He was standing behind the stripper pole, looking down, but with a grin on his face. His clothes left even less to the imagination, right now, he was wearing nothing but a thong and boots. When the music started to play, he grabbed the pole with one hand and rolled his hips forward, flipping his hair back. He grabbed the pole with his other hand, kicking one leg into the air as he showed off his flexibility. After that, he grabbed the rod with both hands, lifting himself up and spinning around it. He landed on his feet again, flashing his audience a grin, before turning back to his performance. Rolling his hips again, he pressed his ass backwards, showing off his goods for anyone interested.

Marco stood entranced as the stripped moved his hips from left to right, before encircling his legs around the pole. Using his upper body to make himself spin around it, he let himself slide back on the floor, arching his back as he did so. Holding the pole, he spun around it, using the speed created to fling his legs up. Hanging above the floor, he threw his legs up once more, flipping himself over until he was hanging upside down. He let go of the rod with his hands, leaning backwards. The muscles of his torso were rippling from exertion. Small drops of sweat dripped down and Marco had to resist the urge to climb up on stage to lick the man's abs.

The stripper let himself slide down again, using only his legs, before he gripped the pole again. He placed his hands on the ground and slowly flipped himself over as his legs released the pole. He landed on his knees, grabbing the pole once more and rolling his torso again. Pulling himself to his feet, he again pressed his ass backwards until he had straightened. Then he let himself hang back, holding on to the pole with one hand, his head fallen back as the music slowly faded away. Still panting he flashed another grin and Marco could swear the freckled man looked at him.

"Marco!"

Perfectly manicured fingers snapped in front of his face.

The blonde shook his head, trying to wake himself from the trance he had been in. That stripper really had a bad influence on him. Beside him he heard a chuckle. "My, that private room must look like a bloodbath."

For a moment Marco looked confused at Izo, until he felt something warm drip from his nose. Embarrassed he grabbed the tissue held out to him and pressed it to his face, trying to will Izo's mocking laughter away.