Her "Regular"

I'll recap my 2003 strip club going year with a revelation that's surprising to me:

It appears that I'm on the verge of morphing into a role I've never played in the strip club - the regular.

What's a regular. As far as I can tell it's a customer who comes into the club and spends a majority of his time, and of course money, on one dancer. And over time they build a club relationship. It becomes much more than the random drive-by lapdance. It's fake, of course, and probably sad and desperate (Hi Annie!), but it's special.

I've never even been close to being a regular. Until this year I've never even been in the same club often enough to even try. And I didn't spend enough money in any one club to attract a dancer. I've been an anonymous lurker. A passer-by. A traveller in the night. Pick a club, pick a new dancer or 2 or 3 or 4 and enjoy the night.

But this was quite an unusual year.

I was in one club most of the year. A new club to me. A spectacular upscale club with a roster of truly beautiful ladies. Not plastic amazon women with platinum blonde hair and 50DD mounds of silicon. Real women. Sexy women. Mostly college girls or local girls in a college town. I could easily name 20 goregeous young ladies off of the top of my head that I had unforgettable couch dance experiences with. Pulse pounding, cheek nuzzling, erection inducing, skin stroking, highly pleasurable dance time with. And I also spent time talking with several of these ladies and discovered that they are educated, witty, interesting young women with normal lives. Fascinating.

And, of course, I spent a significant amount of money this year in the club. Enough to buy a new Hyundai or KIA or a nice used Camaro or Grand Prix. Wow. Hard to realize when you're spending it in increments of $20 or $30 a song. Had I spent all of that on one dancer I would definitely be a regular. But I spread it around and had fun doing it.

So what do I mean when I say I'm becoming a regular. I've become captivated, at least for a while, with one Dancer in particular. The last 5 times I've been in the club I've spent the majority of my time (many hours) and money (many twenties) with her. We've played in extended lapdances, 1/2 hour at a stretch in private "touch-allowed" areas of the club and even more privately in the club limo. And we've talked for hours at a back table. Connecting with each other as the rest of the club faded into the background noise. That's probably the mark of the regular: when Dancer will sit with you instead of working the room.

And my real clue that I'm a regular. Last night she told me her real name. Wow. And she told me a story that indicated to me that she knows my real name. Oh wow. It's like playing with fire. And one more clue. As I was talking with her at 3 am I realized that she knows more about the real me than most people I've known for 10 years. Scary, but exciting.posted by DanceFan at 12/31/2003 08:42:29 PM

My Lovely Dancer

And so we danced, my special Dancer and I. It was more like a 5 hour dance. We spent that much time continuosly together. And even when we were sitting and talking we were dancing. And we were watching people and other dancers. (Lot's of beautiful college girls in the club last night). And tipping other Dancers together (Hot!). And passing each other and touching and hugging by the bar. And seeing each other across the club. And talking more.

And our dance time was very special. 1/2 hour. Riding on my lap. Looking in each others eyes. Nuzzling her neck. Teasing her hair. My fingertips feeling her back, her sides, her thighs, stroking across her belly, stroking the nape of her neck. Cradling her backside as we rocked together. Murmurring into her. Close embrace. The almost-makeout as intense as it can be. Connecting.

And watching her talk at the table. Her passion for life and her excitement. Her lovely face. Her classically beautiful profile. Her delicious new haircut. Telling me of her plans for New Year's Eve with her man. We connected again and she rocks me. Thank you baby.

I wasn't totally faithful. There was playtime with another love, a goddess who's a feast for me in a short time. 2 simple, soul-rocking songs. But it was like dessert to a wonderful 5 course meal. Thank you Dancer. You are glamorous beyond words.

And to the club itself: Thank you for 2003. You were my oasis when I needed one.

The Girl-on-Girl Show

A good night in the VIP, then back out to the main area. Watching some stage shows, thinking about leaving and the long drive home. Then the DJ stops me cold. He announces a "girl-on-girl" show at the main stage. And I find myself a seat at the stage.

And 2 of the sexiest, hottest, youngest Dancers came out on stage and danced with each other. I guess you could call it dancing. Or groping, fondling, caressing, petting, etc.

Dancer N was a very hot brunette with a young tight body and ringlettes in her hair. Dancer P was a power blonde with long beautiful hair and an attitude. It was a tightly choreographed routine for the first couple of songs. P was the dominant one and she started by moving up behind N and reaching around to rub her breasts and pinch her nipples. And then they were down on the stage and N was behind P licking her panty covered crotch oh so slowly. Soon the were both nude with a towel laid out on the stage. And a towel means lotion and out it came. And P got down on all fours with N behind her doggy-style, dripping the lotion on her and rubbing it lovingly into her ass and up her back. Wow. And then they were flipped with N on her back and P moving on top of her, N's legs in the air, and P sucking on her nipples as she moved up to kiss her. And then a 69 with some active and tasty licking going on. And as guys (and a couple of girls) at the rail threw dollars onto the stage it kept going. 3 songs, and then 4. And it was over. Beautiful, ladies, really beautiful. All for my pleasure. My visual, vouyeristic pleasure. Thank you ladies.

*More information than you wanted to know: I woke up Saturday morning with my usual morning wood, only something was different. As I explored I detected it was horribly swollen, about twice the normal girth! Panic was my first reaction. Oh no, had we squished it with a 1/2 hour lapdance? Ruptured it? Was it broken? How would I explain it to the emergency room nurse? Eventually the bigger head cooled down and I realized what it was - Hives. I get them about once a week. Usually just a swollen finger segment, or thumb tip, or toe. But never my johnson! I took the usual remedy - a Claritin tablet. It took a day, but normal size resumed. (Too bad I didn't take advantage of that "twice the girth"! Now if I can only figure out how to do that on demand.)

Friday Night Comfort

Friday night comfort

So I had a nice time in the club last weekend. I showed up after midnight on Friday night for a little holiday cheer with my favorite fake friends. The club was hopping. All the tables full. My Girl-dar picking up a lot of cute civilian girls in the place. Lots of the hottest Dancers on the schedule tonight. I settle in at an out-of the-way back table, get a beer to relax with, and start looking over the room.

I've got a decision to make: dancetime with someone hot and new or someone hot and comfortable? They're both there. And I only have so much budgeted to spend tonight. I choose hot and comfortable, so I settle in for some focused time with Dancer. She's glad I dropped in tonight and she sits with me for a while. I love talking with her. And of course I love the private extended lapdance time with her. 1/2 hour lapdance, very snuggly. And you know what: this time it was more comfortable than hot. We were almost literally dancing together, especially when Outkast's "hey ya" and "I love the way you move" came on back to back. But it was nice. Thank you, baby.

(Originally posted by DanceFan at

Tip-Rail Ettiquette

My take, as a veteran customer, on tip-rail ettiquette in an upscale strip club:

- Do tip because you appreciate the dancer.
- Don't get excessively cute with folding the bill, or excessively demanding on how you want the dancer to get it from you. It's their show.
- Don't tip and then rush back to your table. Linger a while and enjoy their set.
- Do enjoy the view when Dancer is receiving a tip from a fellow tip-railer. You get a different view than when she's with you, and if you're not the jealous type it can be sexy.
- Don't wait until the second song, when she's totally nude, to get up from your table to go tip them. Dancers tell me that really pisses them off. Go early in the 1st song while they're still dressed. They'll appreciate you for it and will likely give you extra attention. Then stay and tip again during the second song and get your nude fix. It's only $2
- Do tip more than $1 every now and then.
- Don't try to grab the dancer or insert your $1 bill somewhere she doesn't want it inserted.
- Do really enjoy it if you're lucky enough to be sitting near a girl who's there tipping too. It can be quite the lady-loving show! Lot's of fondling and nuzzling.
- Don't be a drunk boor, like the idiot I saw one night standing there yelling "show us your tits!"

One of my favorite things to do is this: If I'm spending time with one dancer in particular on a night I'll send her a girl (usually another dancer) to play with on stage. I'll give the girl money to tip with and send her to the stage. Most Dancers will smile in suprise and then give her a special time for the tip. I get to enjoy the show. And the guys at the tiprail get so worked up that I'm sure both Dancers get extra private dances out of the moment.

At the Tip-Rail

The tip-rail. The mainstage. Whatever you call it, every club has a version of it. And it's one of the most amazing places in the universe. Personal attention from a gorgeous girl in some state of semi-dress, and all for $1.

It's one of the common experiences for me at clubs around the country, and yet it's different at every one. The basic idea's the same: Dancers come out for 2 song sets, the first a slow tantalizing strip, the 2nd some amount of nudity (topless, full nude, etc). And they work their way around the assembled drooling guys for personal attention each.

I've seen the actual tipping done in several ways: a discreet tuck of the bill into a thong strap, a not so discreet plunge right down the front of a G-string with knuckles dragging some whiskers, bills in the teeth with the fake kiss removal, and boobs in your face to remove the bill from your mouth. My personal favorite is when a Dancer tucks the bill in my collar and breaths warm sexy breath past my ear and down my neck to retrieve it! Hello!

The tip-rail at the main stage is, of course, the main intended purpose of the club and at the same time a marketing tool for the dancers. If they catch your interest there maybe you'll get the more lucrative private dances from them. I'm sure it works. It works for me.

As a club veteran I'm at the point where I'm not tipping to get groped or even see the skin up close (although that's still sexy). As one of my email corresponders said recently, you get to the point "where you've seen all the parts". And I have. Seen them all. Many times. And enjoyed them. Many times. Many $1 bills discreetly folded. Now, I'm usually tipping to really express my appreciation to these girls I've come to know. That's what tipping is all about anyway, expressing appreciation for really good work. And these amazing girls are really good at what they do.

What's interesting to me as an observer in the club is the culture of the tiprail. You want to see base male behavior - you'll see it there. And, after the alcohol flows for a while, base female behavior too. Although girls don't rush to the rail with the gusto that guys do. It takes girls a while to work up their courage to go up and get breasts in their face.

Flick

Dancer was extremely gifted on stage. I enjoyed our private dances, too. But her time to shine was on stage.

Dancer was an incredibly gorgeous blonde. Beautiful, well dressed, awesomely proportioned. Boots and jewlry, and piercings, and tattoos. And long, long, long, silky blonde hair. Staggering, really. And all mine for $1 for a brief moment at the tip rail.

Dancer loved the stage, loved the stripper pole. She was totally into the music. Into the dance. She had a routine and it worked. She would dance a little to start out. Then she would step down off the stage and make her way around the rail for her tips. Then it was back up on stage and off into her world for the rest of her set. She loved the pole. She would grip it, caress it, bump into it with the beat. Then she would climb it, all the way to the top, and sensously sliiiiiiiiiide back down it - her hair splayed out, her back arched, her ankles keeping her grounded to the pole. Beautiful! And I would be inches away.

And my favorite move: she would crouch right in front of me, back against the pole, legs together, looking me in the eye. Then she would bring her knees apart, presenting her beautiful, shaved, pierced pussy to me. Then she would oh so slowly draw her finger lovingly through her slit alllllllll the way up to her pierced hood. Then she would move her hand toward me as she brought her middle finger together with her thumb. And then she would flick the moisture that she had just captured out at me. Wow! Sexy! And I was hooked.

And then we danced. And Dancer was so very beautiful and smelled so nice and felt so good. And it was hot!

I saw Dancer only one more time. I was in my neighborhood video store when she walked in. I didn't recognize her at first, in the daylight, fully dressed, her hair put up, with her man and her daughter. But she walked by me, and I smelled her. And I saw a piercing in her nose and I thought: "I know that piercing!" And I smiled and moved aside. It was interesting seeing a glimpse of her life outside the club, but I wasn't going to intrude. I watched her for a moment as I quietly made my rental and left her to her life.

Thank you Dancer, for our time together in the dark. And I hope you have a good life in the light.

Ink

Dancer catches my eye even before I know about the ink. She's strikingly beautiful with bleach blonde hair and a lovely white dress. She's reminds me of a younger smaller (but not much!) Dolly Parton. I'm thinking a dance is definitely in the cards tonight. I have to meet her.

Then the whispering starts from the other dancers: "Can you believe they let her dance here with all those tattoos?" Now I'm interested. I love tattoos.

So her stage show begins and the white dress comes off. Wow! Head to toe canvas, she is. Very little color. All black and white. What will her skin feel like? Will the ink rub off on me?

Dancer is working the room. No socializing with the other girls, they clearly don't like her. But she's immune, self assured, and she works the men in the room. And finally, my table. Some small talk. Dancer certainly has a life outside our little fantasy world. But dancing is part of her too. She's built for it. And I'm guessing that she's a total professional.

"Would you like a dance?" Oh yes, I believe I would. We move to the couches, Dancer and I, to await the next song. Dancer is very sensous while we wait. She curls up on my lap and leans in to me. I love her weight on me! She's very touchy, running her long nails constantly across my chest. I'm liking it and we haven't even started. And then the dance. Wow. Very sensuous! Dancer leans in to me and blows soft hot breath into my ear as she settles into a straddle on my lap. I'm stirring already. She cradles me into her breasts and they are literally the softest breasts I've ever felt. Indescribable. And as she pulls back from me I struggle in the soft light to take in all of the patterns inscribed in her skin. Very pale skin, very blonde hair, very dark ink. Totally worth it for me, regardless of what the other dancers think.

And Dancer and I dance the extended private dance. 1/2 hour of private passion. Grinding, breathing, caressing, cheek nuzzling, pleasure. 1/2 hour erection put to as good of use as we can in this place. Totally into the headspace every minute.

Until time's up. Then she turns off like a light switch. And she's back to working the room. Totally professional.

But worth it. Thank you, exotic Dancer.

Don't Try This at Home - or at your home club!

I was thinking about the my tributes to Dancers so far, and the mentions I've made about touching them. Some of you readers who are or have been strip club patrons may not be able to relate to this and are wondering what I'm talking about.

A lot of clubs have "no touch" rules. Put your hands at your side and they'll dance for you, or on you. Touch them and the dance is over. Touch them enough and you'll be ejected.

Probably, you're experience is more typical. You go out to your "home club" with your buds for a Friday night of drinking and ogling strippers. Lots of beer, a few lapdances. No touching. So you've never "touched" a dancer during a lapdance. Maybe a bachelor party where the soon-to-be groom is pulled up on stage for special attention from the ladies. But no touching.

So why do my club descriptions seem to be different?

First, I'm a club veteran. Rookies should stand aside! (just kidding). As my header states I've been going to clubs a long time. I have discriminating tastes, I know what I want, and I know where to find it. (And what I want is to touch the soft, soft skin of these beautiful young ladies and to memorize them with my fingertips!)

It's kind of like when I was traveling a lot on business. I knew all the tricks of airline, rental car, and hotel travel. I got into a bad habit of viewing casual travelers as sheep that were in the way of my smooth trip. If you've ever spent every Friday night in Atlanta airport waiting for the red-eye flight back home to your family you'd understand. I'm not as negative in a club, but the bachelor's parties and casual club goers are just background noise to me.

Second, I'm a loner. I never go to clubs in a group. I go alone, always. I have a good time alone, always. I'm not there to be with my buds. And I work with guys all day and I don't feel a need to drag them into the club with me. I'm there to see and enjoy beautiful and sexy Dancers, period. The only exception so far was unique. (Allow me to digress: I managed some field service technicians and I had one out working for a week several states away. He left me a voicemail message at 3am Wednesday morning sound depressed that he couldn't finish the job and resigning from the company. I listened to the message, hopped on a jet, flew to his city, drove to his hotel, put him in my rental car, and found a strip club. After a few hours of dinner and lapdances for both of us his mood improved. I stayed with him thru Friday and we finished the job. He stayed working for me. That's the only time I had company in a club.)

Third, some of the clubs I visit allow touching in "touch areas" like a VIP room. The rules allow touching Dancer everywhere except private areas. No breasts, no kitty.

Now personally I enjoy both: touch and regular. I can have a great dance with my hands at my side. But touching is incredible. And I am quite a caresser. The first couple of times I did it I was a little shy and the girls grabbed my hands and slapped them on their butts. I'm not shy anymore.

The girls tell me that some customers are complete creeps in the touch area and get way out of bounds. They also tell me that I'm a complete gentleman and that they love dancing for me because they trust me completely and don't have to fight me off.

And last, I want you to know that 1/2 hour or more with one sexy dancer in a private "touch area" is as sexy an experience as you can have within the rules, and that's extremely sexy! With a beautiful girl who trusts me, in a private area, for 30 minutes or more of continuous lapdance, it can get pretty deep into the Headspace for both of us and it's awesome.

Goth Girls

So I'm in a club I like and I have time to play. I'm not in a hurry. I'm looking for some favorite dancers, but I'm not in a hurry. I sit at my table and enjoy the show. I make regular trips to the tiprail to express my appreciation of their considerable talents.

Dancer's stop by: "Would you like a dance?" But I resist.

Then I notice it: two of the dancers seem to keep getting together as they criss-cross the room. They stop each other, whisper to each other, fondle each other, and did I see a kiss in passing? Wow. Am I the only one who picks up on this? These girls are clearly more than just friends and co-workers. So I watch them for a couple of hours. And every touch and squeeze confirms it.

They're "goth girls". Both in exquisite lingerie. Both with jet black hair. Both in dark and moody makeup. Both with elaborate tattoos and excessive body piercings. Very exotic. One tall and willowy, one petite.

So we dance. First one, then the other, then both together. Very romantic, these two. Very slow and sensous. Very graceful gliding across my lap. And very, very into each other. Very sexy.

And to cap off my night, a shower show. Someone else paid for it, all the VIP'ers got to watch it. I will never forget the sight of these two beautiful goth girls, nude in a shower, soaping each other up, with the dominant petite cutie spanking the willowy submissive lovely. Wow!

Thank you ladies.