Getting There

In my last post we discussed the truth that "there's no sex in the Champagne Room".

Having said that, my tribute tonight to a Dancer is the one time we bent the rule.

Somewhere in the arc of time in my 20 year career as a patron, Dancer and I shared a magical time.

And one of us "got there".

It was an intimate evening in a club I'd been to before. Dancer and I floated in and out of each other's presence thru the evening. Touching. Talking. Gone again. Back again.

And then it was our time.

And in the dark, away from all eyes, it was total Headspace. No routine. All straddle and grind. My cock straining thru my slacks against her. Her finding me.

And a whisper..."Make it good for you". And Dancer's taking me at my word.

And suddenly it's urgent. My hands caressing, my face buried in her neck, her silky hair smothering me. Gripping her butt, rising to meet her. Faster and harder. Feeling her hips and her back and stoking her hair.

The endless...tantalizing...almost-kiss!

And she found release.

And it was real.

And I was honored.

Collapse, embrace, parting.

So to Dancer out there.... Somewhere in time....Always in my headspace..."Thank you, baby"