Southern Comfort

She was the first dancer I saw when I walked into this particular strip club. It was a Saturday night. Music pounding. Standing room only. Southern Comfort on the satellite stage. I pulled up a seat, folded my dollar bill, laid it on the tip rail, and was hooked right in. She was spectacular. A living, breathing teen queen in all of her naked splendor 1 foot from me. She couldn't have been more than 19. She had a lit up smile and a vitality to her. And I was hooked.

Why 'Southern Comfort'? Well her stage name spoke to something in my family's southern roots. (I'm a midwesterner, but I have tons of 'kin' in the south.) And I could picture her in some kind of hoop skirted antebellum dress under a parasol at a cotillion with dainty white gloves on. (Okay, I have a vivid imagination).

I promised myself that I would get a dance from her. A promise that I would not fulfill for a year. Until one night she was my blind date. It was my Lovely Dancer's birthday and I dropped into club not expecting to see her. It was the wrong day and the wrong shift. But Southern Comfort was there, looking gorgeous. She had a plaid miniskirt on that defied gravity to stay on and a skimpy top. She looked resplendent with her long golden mane of hair framing her angelic face. And the clincher was the knee high white silk stockings. HOT! Her stage show was magnificent and I tipped her at the tiprail. Up close, cradled into her breasts for $1. "Come see me after your set for a dance" I said. And I settled back and I watched her dance out her song. Watching her crawl on all fours down the tiprail with her bare ass high up in the air peeking out from the miniskirt was brain melting. Her perfectly... sculpted ... ass. And the next thing I knew I was asking her to dance. 1/2 hour, VIP.

Southern Comfort didn't know me from Adam. She had to schedule me in because a regular wanted some time with her. No problem. I'll wait. She was worth it. And then she was there and heading upstairs with me in tow.

We settled in on my favorite overstuffed red couch. She began dancing for me, slowly, feeling me out to see what kind of a guy I am. At a distance to see if I'm a groper. A nice routine - establishing the relationship. After a song or so she settled in on my lap. And I noticed that she has these big puppy dog eyes that are really lovely and endearing. And I was pleased to be locked in the gaze of those eyes. And she moved in close with some practiced moves. Blowing in my ear and letting out soft little sex noises that were nice, but practiced. Works for me though. It gets the motor going.

And I touched this beauty. Softly with my fingertips, tracing along her sides and her back and her thighs. Staying within the rules, respectful. Lovingly. Sensously. And quickly she realized that I was a gentleman and that this was ok. More than ok - pleasurable for her and me. And she came close to me and nuzzled her cheek to mine and paused and lingered and stayed with me in the almost-makeout. And I inhaled her fragrance and her essence. And she danced, a ballet on my lap. Facing me, away from me, pivoting, paying attention to the wood. And I stroked. Her back, her neck, her belly. And she came back to my lap and stared into my eyes. I stoked her cheek with the back of my fingers and I drew her close to me. I snuggled into her neck and grazed her shoulders softly with my lips. And slowly she abandoned the routine and settled in and drew close. And she began to release herself to her pleasure. She wrapped her ankles tightly under my thighs and found me and dug in. And she licked my neck with the whole flat of her tongue. And soon those soft sex noises escaped from her - unpracticed. Delicious.

And then she turned and looked behind her and I knew what that meant. Time was up. She dressed in front of me and I paid her, staring into those lovely puppy dog eyes all the time. And I walked down the stairs, past the minder, with a huge tent in my dockers leading me back to my table.

Thank you Southern Comfort. You are a treasure.