Wilbur Soot

You find yourself here... sitting on a stool at a bar in a strip club. You've drank quite a bit and your head is in a slight haze. You were recently dumped by a date, causing you to feel... well... however you were feeling about it.. no one could really describe it. As you sat at the bar, running your finger along the edge of your glass, the announcer's voice came over the speakers... "Ladies and gentlemen! I hope y'all brought your umbrellas because this next one's gonna cause a storm! Our next performer comes from the local area. His skill on the pole is off the charts! He's better than anything before! Ladies and gents! Meet the one.. the only.. the smoking... Wilbur Soot!!" Your attention was brought towards center stage where a pole connected the ceiling and the floor. From behind the curtains, a tall man who looked your age stepped out from backstage. There was applause as he strutted up towards the pole. He was tall and slender, but well built with a nice face. He had brown, short, wispy, curly hair that rest slightly in front of his chocolate eyes. He wore a white button down with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the top button undone and khaki pants that went down to his low-top, black, Doc Marten shoes. He lightly gripped the pole, simply walking around it with such smooth movements. Your eyes could not drag themselves away no matter how hard you tried. It was like you were in a trance- a beautiful, mesmerizing trance that you couldn't snap out of. He leaned up against the pole and began unbuttoning his shirt in a sensual manner. You found yourself staring at random parts of his body- his hands, his chest, his face, his hips, his waist... God, you had a problem...