Queen of the Club

Dancer was revered by the DJ, who introduced her every night as the Queen of the Club. She was supremely confident, conscious in every pore of her skills and allure. She was regal on stage and she owned it. And she loved all of her subjects at the tiprail, or at least convinced us that she did.

It was my necktie that caught her eye from the stage. "Get up here, necktie" she whispered pointing to me at my table. "I love to play with neckties". And I complied. Next thing I know I'm directed to lay down in the gap in the stage with a dollar bill at the ready. And Dancer took her time playing with me in that position. She got down on all fours above my head and slowly crawled down my body to a 69 position, toying with me on the way by rubbing her breasts down my body. Wow! She's got my attention. And then the hair-job, slowly around my crotch. Finally she decides to tuck the bill in my underwear to retrieve it. She unbuckles my belt, unzips my zipper, reaches in to tuck the bill, and - Oops! no underwear to tuck the bill into! "Of course not", she chuckles, "why would you wear underwear to a strip club?" Zipped back up she backs up me and tucks the bill into my teeth and removes it with her dangling breasts. Sweet.

She was a beauty - statuesque, proud, athletic, confident. And she was sweet - we would talk at times and I got to know a little about her and her life. We learned we were both married, and that was allright within the confines of the fantasyworld. And she was strongwilled. I asked her once to tip another dancer onstage for me and she turned me down. "Sorry, baby, but that's not for me - I like dick".

Did we dance? We did, many times over the next few weeks. She was skilled and she was very very sweet. And she responded to me. The first dance always her routine. But I took her out of her routine for the next few songs. Very enmeshed, no touch, almost make-out. She responded to the cheek nuzzle and she would settle in to a slow grind on my lap with her cheek against my cheek. And we'd move together and breath together, and I would know I was getting to her when she would brush by my lips and lightly kiss me on the way by. And when time was up it would seem like she didn't want to stop either. "Wow, that was hot!" she'd say. And she would compliment me on being a gentleman.

To Dancer - the Queen of the Club - thank you, baby. I miss you.