A Magic Mike show. Of all the ways you could be spending a Saturday. Your friends were practically begging you to go as you, “needed to see something hot for once.” So here you are.

As the dozen of ripped, shirtless men dance before you, one manages to catch your eye. He stands out. He has muscles, yes, but his tummy is softer than the rest of the men. He holds a black, neat caterpillar above his lip and happens to have a Stetson upon his head. He looks older too, but man he’s good at this.

He grinds against the air in time with the music, until a chair is pulled up. The man remains, looking around the crowd of young, pretty women for a volunteer. You knew what these guys did as a part of their performance. It was basically a lap dance.

He scans his deep, mocha eyes across the audience until they land upon you. A sly, flirty smirk appears on his handsome face as your eyes meet.

“I see you starin’ sugar.. come up here. Don’t be shy..” He coaxes, voice gentle and teasing as you step up to the stage. One other thing you notice, is his thick Southern American accent. Very enticing. He takes your hand. His is rough and large against your skin. He leads you to the seat, allowing you to get comfortable with your placement.

The music starts once again, and you know what you’re in for. The man takes your hands from time to time to graze them across his body, often getting incredibly close to your face as if he were to kiss you. It’s more exciting than you had thought. You can hear your friends cheering at you over the sensual music.

Flustered smiles cover your face as he moves his hips in those tight jeans, capturing not only you but everyone else in a trance.

“Doin’ great sugar..” He speaks sweetly into your ear, making you shiver with divine electricity. He continues his movements, slow. Who knew a cowboy could have you so warm and flustered?