Stripper No. 4

Soundtrack
Your eyes open.

You see ****** vaulted ceilings. You do not feel a hangover per se, but rather the whole body ravage of a night out drinking 'til *am in a strange town underneath an uncaring sky. A **** scratches nearby. You instantly wish you had ear plugs or headphones. You don't have any ****  or ear plugs and you know this will make the day brutal.

You look over and see the young(er) girl curled up next to you. You can smell her hair and taste her mouth on your lips.
She stirs and places her head on your chest and curls up with your arm around her.
You smile and take a deep breath as your mind takes stock of the situation.
You sleep again.

The **** wakes you again. You stir and fight the urge to check your phone.
Fuck it.

Your mind flashes back to your hand around her throat and the sound of her moaning as she comes on your dick while her body writhes and tenses then relaxes. You remember her tattoo in motion as she took it from behind and nearly broke your dick off.

IF you are being honest with yourself, you are not surprised.
This used to happen with initially then unsurprising frequency. You are more surprised in that around 145am you had written off the night.
Then a dancer/girl came to tell you her friend thought you were cute.
Again, unsurprising.

She stirs and you phaseshift to the present as she tells you how glad she is that you met. The early morning smile of a 20 year old curled up next to you with a killer body.
There are worse ways to awaken in a ****** town far from ***** after spending the night out at bars, strip clubs, and *******.
You hop out of bed and feel the cold hardwood floors as you stretch. She compliments your body and you return the statement.
You do the finger teeth brush and drink some water.
You feel her eyes devour you as you climb back into bed.
More sleep.

More sex follows.
You escape everything else for a time.
The road will remind you of everything else as you return from whence you came.
You recall 430 in the morning. You recall her friend telling you how much this girl likes you.
You know how the night will end.
You know how all of it will end.

You take stock of what (if anything) it means that this does not surprise you.
You briefly wonder how other men see the world.
You know that they do not see it as you do.

The good news is that you still have it. Whatever that "it" may be: the wordless quality that attracts them to you.
You wonder if they see the end before it even begins as you do.
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This is what you are.
This is what you were always going to become.