More Important Memories
Sorry. My memories this weekend are not related to strip clubs. It's Memorial Day weekend in America and I'm remembering my time in uniform. 11 years, never in harms way. I served throughout the 80's in the midst of the Cold War.
And I served into the 90's, including Desert Shield and Desert Storm. I had a national security mission in support of aircraft that we're airborne 24 hours and capable of ordering nuclear launch. We also supported recon planes that could search for Scud missles in the desert. Our sqaudron deployed literally within hours of Sadaam's troops crossing the Kuwait border. Half of our squadron went. I supported our aircraft from a stateside location. I was ready to go, I wanted to go. It was maddening that I was on active duty and not deployed when Guard and Reserve were called up and sent. But my role was stateside and I performed my duty.
And I'm thinking this weekend of a Staff Sergeant (SSgt), a young man my age and married with children, who came home in a casket later that week. The first casualty of Operation Desert Shield that I know of. Such a sacrifice.
At the end of "60 Minutes" last night they ran an 11 minute photo tribute to the men and women who have been killed in the war in Iraq and Afghanistan. Men and women, all ages, all ranks, all races. America's best. Such a sacrifice. It was very moving.
I'll opine at length on my thoughts on the War on Terrorism on the political blog I write. I'll just say here that I think it is a necessary war, not of our choosing, that must be fought full tilt against the terrorists and the state sponsors that enable them, including Iraq. But the sacrifice must be acknowledged.
So props to our troops in uniform. Active duty, Guard, or Reserve. In harms way or not. I salute you. Stay safe.
And I'll honor my friend, the Staff Sergeant, this weekend by remembering him 12 years after his sacrifice.
Horny Meanderings
- Ah spring. The tight short shorts and tanned legs and perky halter tops are blooming. Can sundresses and bikinis be far behind. How’s a guy supposed to concentrate?
- I saw a VH1 special on Simon Cowell of American Idol. It seems that in between dispensing hope-crushing criticism to would be pop stars, Simon is a ladies man. He’s got the cash, he’s got the cars, and he’s got the wild side to go with it. It seems that Simon loves strip clubs and, more importantly, strippers. Simon! My man.
- During a horny moment on a trip through the local video rental establishment I succumbed to temptation and rented “Wild Things 2”. Who could forget the surprise threesome scene in the original “Wild Things” with Neve Campbell, Denise Richards, (and their hot kiss) and the guy. (I know his name, but who cares? He’s a guy.) Of course the sequel smartly tries to recreate the threesome scene. This time in more detail. It wasn’t particularly hot. It looked like 3 people acting out a threesome. But I will say that in that scene Leila Arcieri (the wild one) has the most beautiful nipples I’ve ever scene on screen. Definitely lickable.
- Ditto Elisha Cuthbert’s lips in “The Girl Next Door”.
- And I'm mesmerized by the hula girls dancing in the background of the video for Kenny Chesney and Uncle Kracker's song "When the sun goes down". Can I please get in the van with all of them.
The Yin and Yang of your Comments
Wow. The comments on the "My Beloved" post (May 9th) are incredible. And they are starting to heat up on the very graphic and personal "Multiple Screaming Orgasms" post (Jan 30th). Fans and critics on both.
As usual they made me think.
I bought a book on the road to help me learn Tai Chi while I'm in hotel rooms. I've been wanting to learn it for 20 years. First topic: Yin and Yang. It occurred to me that there is a definite Yin and Yang to blog comments, at least on DANCEFAN.
Writing a blog is not only an expressive outlet, it's a journey of self discovery. The learning curve of comments has a Yin (learning to not get a big head from the positive comments) and a Yang (not descending into self-flagellation with the criticisms). I have perspective now. As of now I just welcome all the comments, barring irrational hardcore flaming, and consider them part of the fabric and legacy of DanceFan.
Thanks to The Yin club (positive comments): Corrine, Renee, Mistress T., Quiver, Trish, Naughty Alex, Cat, David, Denise, BJK, Scream, Piper, Betty, Sassy Dancer, Leanna Taylor, wench, panty pulldown, Apollo, and of course my original buddy Don. I appreciate you guys and gals.
Thanks anyway to The Yang club (the critics): sedona anawah, Lexy, notafanofdancefan, CP, You Disgust Me, and Mike. You add to the liveliness around here, whether you mean to or not. I do notice that the critics never leave an email or homepage. I also have the distinct naggy feeling that some of these people, if not all of them, are the same person. Just something about common wording.
There's also a Neutral Club, who just comment: Boy, Oksana, Zenwanderer, L.B. Jeffries,Turkey Mayo (?), and Lauda. Thanks to you guys too.
My award for Yin and Yang in the same comment: Glitter79 who said in a comment to "My Beloved":
That was a beautiful tribute. She sounds like an amazing person. You're a lucky man. She, however is a very unlucky woman who deserves better.
But, I still like to read your blog!
Just hope that if I ever get married someday, it's not to someone like you, no offence!
Keep telling the sexy stories.
Awesome!
My award for dramatic conversion from Yang to Yin goes to blah who wrote both:
"you're a freak."
and
you know, by reading some of your previous posts, the detail, and the method in which you described certain things, I used to think you were pretty f**ked up in the head, and nothing more than an extremely perverted guy who wasn't satisfied with his marriage...
but from the most recent stream of entries you've made, i've thought differently.. you're alright bud.. you seem pretty normal
good work
Keep the comments coming.
Seven
“all 7 and we’ll watch them fall”
I was listening to Prince’s song “7” in a strip club one night. Like most of Prince’s stuff it was perfect for the club. It made me want to sing it. It made me want to get a lapdance. It made me think of a stripper……
I was in another club a while back. I hadn’t been to this club for a while and I was settling in to the choices. Regular admission or VIP? I chose regular. I didn’t have much time and I thought I was only going to watch the stage show that night. Table or tiprail? Might as well get up close and personal. Tiprail it is.
I notice that it’s a slow evening. Upside down ratio – more strippers than customers. That’s never good. Never. I know I’m going to have to make choices. And quick.
Stage dancer is a pretty blonde. Taking it easy – slow and sensuous. I’m the only guy at the tiprail so she pays me extra attention. And I pay attention back, tipping nicely. “You have to throw the money up here. I can’t come off the stage when I’m naked”. OK, here you go.
“All dancers report to the stage”
Uh oh. Already? There’s on one thing that means. Signature dance, or whatever they call it here. 2 for 1 dances. A bargain I can’t pass up. But I haven’t seen all the dancers yet. How will I decide?
All the dancers? Turns out there are only two, and I’m the only customer showing any interest. So present themselves to me. “Do you want a dance” in stereo. Stage dancer blonde. And a Goth girl, long black hair, pale white skin, black outfit. Choose quick. I choose Goth girl.
She takes my hand and off we go. We're heading back to the VIP which is a problem because I didn't buy the VIP wrist band. She fields this deftly and we pick one up at the bar. Then we're in. It's changed. Gone are the couch with the individual pole at each. In their place are beds in a little private area for each. Hmmmm. I'm not a fan of the beds. I tried it once during a quick expensive dance with a feature dancer. I couldn't get comfortable and didn't like it. I like the couch, where I have a lap to dance on. But we climb on, me laying down and fitting my head on the small attempt at a pillow. Dancer stradling me and checking herself out in the mirrors lining the booth.
"What's your name?" I ask. Stripper name, of course. Mumbled reply. Did she say 7?
And we begin a stranger dance. I've never met her, she's never seen me. I've been in the club maybe 15 minutes and here we are on the bed. No warm up. No conversation. Up close and personal on the bed. No touch rules.
She's very pretty, no doubt. And I enjoy her beauty as we go through the paces. Pivoting and grazing, all the time looking in the mirrors. I just can't get excited in this position. Don't know why, it just doesn't work for me. But I can enjoy her beauty, so I do.
And she goes through a very practiced routine for two songs. I'm impressed. Not aroused, but impressed. It was like having an out-of-body experience and just observing this very impersonal private dance.
And then I see it. She pivots around to a 69-ish position and then comes up on her knees with her back to me. And I see the tattoo on the small of her back above her ass in deep black gothic script arc:
S E V E N
We finished. I thanked her and paid her. She dressed. We went our separate ways back out to the club floor. Me to the tiprail. Her to the stage. She was up next.
I enjoyed her more on the stage than on the bed. It was more natural. For some reason, it was more personal at the stage.
And I remember her contrasts: pale skin with long black hair, black G-string, black platform strippr heels, and bright red painted toenails! Very pretty.
Thank you, baby. Impersonal, but nice.
Choices
Every trip I have to make choices.
I wonder if the dancers know how many choices a guy has to make at a strip club? It can start at the door – regular admittance or VIP? ($5 extra at one club and it gets you a wristband and into the VIP area). Do I want to sit at a table or at the stage? Do I want someone sitting at my table talking or am I a loner tonight? Do I want to get lapdances? From a favorite or try someone new? Or just watch the stage show? And most importantly, how do I make the limited dollars in my pocket this night stretch to the most enjoyable and debauched evening?
If I had unlimited cash when I walked in the door it wouldn’t be much of a choice. I’d be out in the limo all night with 2 lovely dancers. That’s never the case. So I have to choose. Extended ½ hour dancetime with 1 incredible stripper? Or 4 or 5 dances spread out over the night with a few girls? I never know when I walk in. I let the moment take me in whatever direction. Because I know now what I like it almost always works out. And, really, how could it not?
Next post: a tribute to one of my choices...
My Beloved
I'd like to pay a special tribute today, on Mother's Day, to my beautiful wife. It's prompted by a nice comment to my last post by Oksana who posed two questions:
DanceFan -
I love reading your blog. I am curious, though, about one thing. I don't want to invade your privacy at all, but you write lyrically and beautifully about women that you hardly know. This is understandable - strippers are gorgeous, and meant to be objects of fantasy.
I guess I just wonder about the state of your marriage. NOT to make you feel guilty, or tell you what you're doing is wrong, because I don't believe there is anything bad with your activities. I just...I just would love to read a description of your wife. Is she as goddessly as the dancers you praise?
Once again, just curious. No judgment here.
I gave some thought to how to answer that. Blogs are a curious mix of public and privately anonymous. How much to reveal? My inclination is to just be honest as I've tried to be in all my posts.
My wife and I are just a normal mid 40's couple making do and a little worn by life. We've been together, dating and married, for 27 years now.
Is she "goddessly"? She's pretty, certainly, although she would dispute that. But it's hard to be objective about her as I am about the dancers that I meet so briefly in the dark. Because we've been part of each other's lives forever and I see her like no one else has or will.
We met in elementary school and I can see her in my mind's eye as a school girl. Honestly, I can.
We started dating in high school. And just like my musical tastes are partly stuck in those high school years in the late '70s(Boston, Foreigner, Dan Fogelberg, Jimmy Buffett) so my picture of her is stuck in those dating years. That beautiful shy girl in the braces and the Dorothy Hamil haircut. Not a star, always in the background. But beautiful in a quiet way. She wore Emeraude perfume back then and all it takes is a whiff of that scent and I'm transported back there. My one and only. We learned to kiss together. We learned intimacy together.
And we've stood together through the years. Me standing with her as I drove home every weekend in college to be with her. Her standing with me as we moved accross the globe to serve our country away from family. Together - years spent trying to have a family and knowing from the doctors that it would never happen, suffering losses in the attempt.
I certainly could not only describe her physically. She's truly a beautiful person. She is a fine faithful Christian woman. She grew up in the church and she exemplifies everything good about the church. And I love that about her. She has a pure heart. She inspires me. She loves her family and takes care to keep in touch with them.
Are we compatible in every way? No we're not. She would hate this blog, for example. But who could know when you pledge your selves to each other at 17 what kind of people you'll be when you're 40? But we're compatible enough. And we're deeply committed to each other. And after all these years we can still have pretty amazing sex!(See my post 2/15/04 - My Valentine)
About the state of our marriage: besieged. After 13 years of trying and failing to have children naturally, I am a father and she is a mother. We eventually became foster parents and we cared for many children, some of whom we adopted. They are beautiful and precious children, without physical disabilities. But the emotional and developmental issues we deal with are difficult beyond description. And she carries the brunt of it. I try to relieve it when I can. I often send her out for a movie in the evening or for a hotel for a weekend while I care for the kids. We haven't seen a movie together in 5 years. We can't get babysitters anymore. She struggles through difficult day after difficult day, lays with them each night until they wear out, and then falls in bed exhausted. And she wipes the slate clean each day and loves them .
It's a phase of our life together that we have to get through. So we escape now and then. Her to a movie or her garden, me to the club in the dark of the night and to this blog in the wee hours.
My wife. Is she a goddess? She would laugh at the question. My answer: she's not a goddess. (Nor am I a god!) But she is my bride. And she is an angel.
And she's a better mother than my kids know right now in their young life and I love her dearly. Happy Mother's Day.
Probably more than you wanted to know, Oksana!
The DanceFan Sorority
2 beautiful dancers. 2 readers of this blog. 2 fascinating women who have graced me with comments here.
Red hot Corrine. Running accross the club with a delighted squeal and greeting me with a fully satisfying bone-crushing lingering hug. Awesome! Thank you baby! I could hold you all night.
And the lovely Renee. A vision of beauty in passing. Humoring my horndog nature by tipping Corrine for me at the tiprail. The duo a scorching vision burned into my fevered brain. Renee sitting on the rail, Corrine embracing - teasing - pleasing. Awesome!
I love talking with you both. I love dancing with you both. I'm a lucky man.
Thank you ladies.
My DanceFan Sorority.
P.S. And one other, who told me she got off reading one of these posts. My version of a blog pulitzer prize. Thank you baby, and you're welcome.
posted by DanceFan at 5/5/2004 08:53:50 PM
"Where Do You Want to Put It"
It was a new town.
work, eat, sleep. Or try to sleep. What hotel am I in again? Insomnia ....... Party in the next room at 2 am spilling thru the walls. zzzzzzzzzz Again. Again. Again. Work, eat, sleep. Or try to sleep.
I know it's there. I found it in the yellow pages the first night I was here. "Nightclubs". the big ad. Am I going? Not tonight. Maybe some night. 8 pm. I'll just watch some tube. Hockey playoffs? 9 pm - HBO? Late night. 11pm Daily Show with John Stewart. 11:30pm. Screw it. I'm going.
It's a gift really. A quick glance at a phone book map. 30 miles on unfamiliar roads. And I drive straight to it.
Pay the cover. What time is it? 12:15 am - closing time is 2. Do I need a table? No, tonight the tiprail is enough. I'm just killing time anyway. Different vibe to this club. It's a small club really, made larger by mirrored walls. One stage, a figure 8, with 2 poles. A long bar opposite. A balcony level. VIP upstairs opposite. OK, I understand the layout.
Time to learn the culture. I take a seat at the tip rail. The decision I hate, which beer? Killian's - my usual. And I tune in.
To the lovely lady on stage in front of me. Beautiful blonde, shoulder length hair, blue bikini. Dancing slowly for me. She sees me. Not just dancing by me or staring past me. She sees me. And I appreciate her with my gaze. how do I tip here? Let's watch the others. No help. Let's ask dancer. "Where do I put it?" "Where do you want to put it?" So I discreetly tuck it in her G-string strap. And she smiles sweetly at me. 2nd song I get more aggressive. Bill in my teeth, she removes it with breasts. Soft cradling breasts. Again the sweet smile. A connection.
I scan the crowd. There's a party in the balcony - 3 couples watching the action. A second group comes in and finds the balcony also. 2 couples and a single girl. A pretty girl. Not flashy. Keeping her head down. Red top and a ponytail. Looking around cautiously.
next dancer - Amerasian. Very sexy but distracted. Phoning in her set. She turns on the smile for a minute as she sits in front of me hanging her legs over my shoulders. I play dumb. "Where do I put it" "Where do you want to put it?" I sense a pattern here. I tuck it in the front of her panties as she giggles. Nice hot kiss on my cheek. Back to the distracted dance.
I watch ponytail girl. She's not having much fun. The party couples are getting frisky.
Beautiful tall blonde dancer with a silk white skirt over her biking bottoms. Vigorous dance around the pole swinging her long, long legs and stripper heels over our heads. Almost decapitates the dude next to me. "Get over here and shake that ass!" he says. And she does. Takes her time turning around on the small stage and putting her legs out around him and then shaking her ass right under his nose. her beautiful rounded cheeks peeking out from under the skirt with the upskirt panty peek. Sweet. She swings over to me. "Where do I put it?" "Where do you want to put it? Front or back?" Oh, definitely back. And that cute ass swings back to me and I tuck it in the string. I'm liking this game.
Ponytail girl and I lock eyes several times. I'm wondering if she'll come sit with me at the tiprail. Now that's a dangerous game. How would I make that happen? She'd be having more fun at the tiprail. Party couples are now in fullout lapdance mode in the balcony with all 3 girls riding their guys.
Silk skirt blonde stops by, massaging my shoulders. "Would you like a dance?" "I think I'll just watch the stage tonight. But thanks."
Asian dancer. Sexy. Pert tits. Flawless skin.
Ponytail girl and I catch eyes again. Maybe I should send her a dancer. Buy her a lapdance. Maybe.
Black dancer. Staring at me. "Are you asleep dude? What's wrong with you man, you're in a strip club. Wake up". Should I tell her about the insomnia? No. "You've woken me up. Where do I put it." "Where do you want to put it?" Legs over my shoulders. Reeeeal close in. Taking the bill with her breasts. Slapping me vigorously with those breasts. Kissing my cheek. Now I'm awake.
Party couples leaving. Amazing brunette devouring her boyfriend on the way out. Hot, hot kisses at the bar. Beautiful slinky dress hugging her shapely ass. Get a room already. Not really. I like watching them. And they're out.
Blonde dancer. Very tall. Very pretty. Verry, Verrry young. Is she out of high school yet? "Shake that ass" yells guy next to me. " I don't have an ass" says dancer. And she's right.
And ponytail girl finally lights up. The group coming in the door is apparently the group she was waiting for. She meets them at the bar for animated partying. Oh well, that fantasy's over.
Maybe I should get a private dance after all. "Last call". Where are all the dancers. They're all dancing. Where's blue bikini? Silk skirt blonde walks by. "Can we dance?" "I'm sorry, I have a committment". I waited too late. Not my best night, but fun just the same.
Back out into the night. The long night. And the anonymous room. And the wait for exhaustion and sleep.
Just like tonight. Made me think of it. When will exhaustion come tonight? Please, soon. There's work tomorrow.