If there are several butts wiggling in front of you whilst their tiny streaky-lined panties are tangled around their ankles, perhaps there is a bottle of £180 champagne within reach, I can understand that a man may get fairly distracted. He may lay back, observe the sensual scene unfolding in front of him that he has shelled out a succession of twenty pound notes and card swipes for, and feel relaxed. Totally relaxed. Relaxed enough to feel like he is at home, reaching into his suit, pulling out a cigarette, and lighting it up.
Deep pull, close your eyes..... and then BAM!!! Every bouncer and manager in the building rushes in helter-skelter,the cigarette gets pulled from your fingers, hot rocks and ash falling onto your Savile Row whistle, the girls start screaming, they are herded out, half naked, stumbling over their dropped lacy panties, and you are surrounded.
This whole scene takes barely a minute.
You lost concentration, you silly drunken idiot, revelling in the moment.
Because whatever goes on in the champagne rooms, nowadays, smoking is definately not allowed.
Uh- uh.
London's got a smoking ban, as has half of Europe.
You mighht get a quick feel, you might get laid, you might even get a phone number - but a quick pull on a fag???
Forget about it. It's a ten thousand pound fine, whereas a bit of bad perverted behaviour will either get you cuffed round the ear, or perhaps the stripper might get suspended.
I've had a guy pull his pants down and waggle his dick at me, many others who have grabbed me so hard that I've screamed, people stick out their slobbery tongues and try and lick my nipples - and to be honest, many one or two bouncers and managers have perhaps waded in. Slap on the wrist.
But light up inside the club, and you're out mate. Pronto.
Funny that isn't it? Is my welfare that unimportant, or do all gentleman's club managers have asthma.......???
Deep pull, close your eyes..... and then BAM!!! Every bouncer and manager in the building rushes in helter-skelter,the cigarette gets pulled from your fingers, hot rocks and ash falling onto your Savile Row whistle, the girls start screaming, they are herded out, half naked, stumbling over their dropped lacy panties, and you are surrounded.
This whole scene takes barely a minute.
You lost concentration, you silly drunken idiot, revelling in the moment.
Because whatever goes on in the champagne rooms, nowadays, smoking is definately not allowed.
Uh- uh.
London's got a smoking ban, as has half of Europe.
You mighht get a quick feel, you might get laid, you might even get a phone number - but a quick pull on a fag???
Forget about it. It's a ten thousand pound fine, whereas a bit of bad perverted behaviour will either get you cuffed round the ear, or perhaps the stripper might get suspended.
I've had a guy pull his pants down and waggle his dick at me, many others who have grabbed me so hard that I've screamed, people stick out their slobbery tongues and try and lick my nipples - and to be honest, many one or two bouncers and managers have perhaps waded in. Slap on the wrist.
But light up inside the club, and you're out mate. Pronto.
Funny that isn't it? Is my welfare that unimportant, or do all gentleman's club managers have asthma.......???
No comments:
Post a Comment