Inappropriate Lust

Okay, I know that a mid-40's man shouldn't be spending anytime at all watching MTV's new reality show - "Laguna Beach". But I do.

And I know I'm supposed to like these kids. But I'm repulsed by these rich, spoiled, pampered, self-absorbed young airheads. Both the girls and the boys. Especially Kristin.

And I know that they're probably only 18, but I totally want to do them. Only the girls. Especially Kristin.

Two Questions

One of my readers, a delightful and interesting girl, is thinking about going to a club for the first time. We've had some conversations about what she would encounter.

I asked her two questions:

First Question: what would she wear to the club?

"What would I wear to a strip club? How should I know? - I've never been! Well, let's see, oh jeez, you want details? Hang on, lemme look in my closet... Probably some kind of skirt, my knee high black patent leather boots, a funky button up blouse or tank top. Definitely not jeans and a t-shirt. I guess I'd try for something a little sexier, but not too - I'm not there to compete with professionals. No lingerie as outer-wear. I might try for the cool sophisticate look since there probably wouldn't be too many other women dressed like that in such a place and that could be what makes special, unique. How about this - my boots, a miniskirt and a tight, black short sleeved turtle-neck shirt? Or, instead of the turtle-neck, a sheer blouse with a tank top underneath."

Nice. Very Nice. I can picture it. And probably right on target.

Second Question: would she be aware of the male reaction to her in the club? Would she know that all of the men in the club would keenly and lustfully know that she was there, even in the midst of dancers? (What I've referred to before as my Girl-Dar)

"I guess it's hard for me to imagine that I would even begin to command a drop of attention from any guy there when there are beautiful naked women all over....It's almost ludicrous to think about..."

And later...

"Why would guys be lusting more for me (or some other tastefully dressed civilian girl) than a stripper? I'm just not getting that, so please elaborate. It must be yet another facet of men's sexuality that I don't understand."

My answer:

Okay, for the next 5 minutes Dr. DanceFan is in to answer your questions. I'll get deeply philosophical here and approach your question on why guys would lust after you instead of (or more appropriately in addition to) the strippers from 3 angles:

1) A stripper put my thoughts on this into the right words once. She was aspiring to be an "unobtainable". There is a class of strippers who command high dollar because they are perceived to be unobtainable by almost all of the guys in the room. You look at these girls and your brain locks in the thought that you could never in a million years date or be with a girl like this. Men will spend mucho dollars to spend any time with her. They seriously "bank". The girls who are perceived as "could be my girlfriend" earn less. It's a mystical quality that my highly astute and perceptive dancer friend was studying and trying to acquire.

You, as a cute well dressed civilian girl in the club, likely there with a guy because you couldn't get in alone, would fall in the "unobtainable" class. Therefore you are highly prized.

2) Men are above all hard wired to crave variety. No matter what we have, we crave something different. Not better. Not more. Just different. An example I've cited before is Halle Berry. World recognized as one of the most beautiful women on the planet and her husband still cheated on her. Not condoned, but understood. We're creatures driven by a desire for variety. Want another example? How often have you rented a movie in a video store that you've seen more than once before? Not me. I'm in the "New Release" section. And who represents variety in the strip club? To the newbie in the club the strippers represent variety from his wife/girlfriend etc. To both the regulars and the newbies in the club you, as the cute well dressed sexy civilian girl, represent variety from the 20 semi-naked strippers.

3) You're a girl. And you're sitting closer to them than the dancers do. They don't need another reason to lust after you.

Okay. Dr. DanceFan is back out.

Thanks to my offline friends and the facinating chat.

Network Skin

I didn't manage to make it to a strip club this week. But ABC TV helped me out via the new hit show: "Desperate Housewives". I should have known that sooner or later one of the characters would, even on a Sunday night in primetime, find their way into a strip club for an extended scene.

If you haven't seen the show yet, it's ABC's attempt at a spicy nighttime soap opera. The desperate housewives in question include:

- a "Stepford Wives" type, but a prissy and controlling one
- a spicy hispanic hottie who's cheating on her hubby with the lawnmower kid
- a normal mom with out of control kids
- a harried recent divorcee' (Terri Hatcher) who's competing for the only eligible bachelor on the block with the other divorcee (Nicolette Sheridan - one of my old favorites from "Knot's Landing" and still looking excellent)

So who goes to the strip club? Prissy wife's son who, after founding out that his dad left his mom, goes to a bar to strip club to drown his sorrows. Prissy mom figures it out and shows up to bring him home. When he refuses to go, Prissy mom pulls up a chair alongside him to wait him out and "see what all the fuss is about" at the club.

Okay, picture that for a minute. Your mom sitting with you at a strip club stage. Talk about a buzzkill.

By the way, I'd have to rate the strip club scene as moderately authentic for a local dive strip club. A little spartan and depressing. Sexy dancers though.

But the strip club scene was upstaged by the polite divorcee catfight over the bachelor. While the bachelor was working on his lawn with his shirt off, still-sexy Nicolette Sheridan came out to wash her car. Standard wet T-shirt, short shorts, very wet and very sexy car wash. Yeow!

I know the World Series was on, but come on! They're desperate housewives, already. What strip club regular worth his salt would choose the game?

Couples in the Club - Postscript

One last "couples memory" for a while:

It was shortly after two separate dancers had talked with me about their apprehensions about approaching couples in clubs. Fearing rejection or judgement at worst, no sale at best. But I knew that there are positives stories about dancers and couples. So I decided to observe some more.

It was late, on a weekend night. The club was busy and the music was good. I was languidly enjoying the afterglow of some private dances with my Lovely Dancer. Not able to walk around much, if you follow me. So I settled in at a back table and watched the stage show and the crowd.

And there they were. Right in front of me, between me and the stage. A couple. Not with a group or a party. Just a couple nervously taking in the club scene. An attractive couple, about my age. Would a dancer approach them I wondered? Let's watch and see. Mrs. was facing the stage with Mr. facing away. Mrs. a little stiff and nervous. Mr. was detached, playing it cool. Just talking and drinking. And soon enough here came dancer.

Dancer was a pretty girl, very petite, dressed up like a 1920's speakeasy girl. Short black hair, fair skin. Pretty and innocent. She approached with no fear at all. She settled in and they bought her a drink. What followed was several minutes of engaging conversation. Flirting. Laughing. Drinking. But would there be dancing? I felt like an anthropologist as I observed and studied.

And then, in an instant, it was decided. Mr. bolted out of his seat and headed for the VIP with dancer in tow. Mrs. remained at the table. Interesting, I thought. Let's see how this develops. One song. They stay gone and Mrs. stays in her seat, transfixed by the stage and not looking around. Two songs and Mrs. hasn't moved. She seems keenly aware that she's sitting in a strip club alone. Three songs and Mr. returns without dancer. He takes his seat, again facing away from the stage - facing me actually - with his legs stretched out beside Mrs. chair. How would Mrs react? With jealousy? Curiosity? Anger? Lust? Lust was the answer. As soon as Mr. returned she reanimated. Leaning toward him. Talking excitedly. Whispering into his ear. Leaning closer into him. Fondling him. Kissing him. Nuzzling into his neck. Smelling dancer on him. I thought she was going to jump him right there at the table. And quickly they were up and out of the club like a shot. Did they even make it out of the parking lot before they got it on? I'm guessing not.

Wow. That was a positive experience.

So dancer successfully approached a couple in the club and got a profitable dance out it with no fear. What gave her this confidence? Later I found out. She stopped by my table and introduced herself. After I remarked that she was a very pretty girl she said "thanks. I'm a little nervous. This is only my 2nd night dancing." A ha.

Estrogen Zones

I recently had to venture into two primarily female workplaces - estrogen zones - where I got a laugh and a lust:

1. The laugh - Hot Nurses

A routine office visit to my doc, a woman, and her all female nursing staff. I was the first appointment of the day and I was there for about an hour. And what was the topic of discussion amongst the ladies for that hour? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller...Bueller? The thermostat of course. Apparently, the nurses who are always hot keep turning the thermostat down. All the other nurses then have to scramble for lab coats and sweaters and heaters under their desks. They took it so seriously and it consumed all of their thoughts for the whole hour. Handling me as a patient was a very distant second. I was lauging my ass off, quietly of course. (By the way, I thought the temperature was just fine.) Ladies, what's up with the thermostat wars?

2. The lust - Hot for Teacher

My son's elementary school for a parent teacher conference. I was the only male in a small little room. It was the first time I was meeting his teacher and I was speechless. Mid 30's, long sexy dark hair, petite, and very very pretty. Wow. Did I have teachers that were this sexy in grade school? I'm thinking I would remember. And the nurse was a little hottie as well. The estrogen in the room was overpowering. It was one of those moments where it startles me how female dominated a public school is. Not that that's a bad thing. Especially in that meeting in that little room. I sat there thinking over and over "Is it a bad thing to lust for my son's teacher like this?" Not that I could help it. The little head took over my thinking process. We adjourned the meeting to go observe the classroom in action. Should I tell you about the pretty college age teaching assistant? The tall beauty with the oh so tight slacks with no VPL - visible panty line? Oh, I've been very naughty, thinking very naught thoughts. Oh, Miss. principal? I think I should be sent to your office for a spanking!

Did I say that out loud?

Hmmmmm. That last post was interesting. The product of a fevered, libidinous, insomniac mind... That should put to rest whether or not men obsess about lesbianism.

My Lesbian Stripper Fantasy

She had the 1000 yard stare of a club veteran, this one. And that's what inspired my fantasy.

I didn't notice her at first. I had stopped off the road for a little break in a long drive. Been here before and I don't see anyone I recognize. This particular club has some turnover in their dancers over the years. Several pretty girls are dancing tonight and they all stop at my table to ask "Do you want a dance?". Several blondes in their lingerie. A petite black girl who's very persistent. A buxom blonde in an enormous latex skirt. A gorgeous blonde with red fishnet stockings and a white teddy with little red ribbons. "She just turned 20 tonight", a guy at the tiprail tells me. Happy birthday, darling. No one is really grabbing my interest. Maybe I'm just tired from the driving. I alternate between the tiprail and a back table and just watch.

And then I hear Dancer's name announced and she comes out on stage. Instant recognition. Oh, my. I know this girl. Does she still work here? Apparently so. I used to admire her skills in this very club, but it must have been four or more years ago. Wow. She comes out on stage quietly, almost zombie like, standing at the back rail waiting for the music to start. No smile, no animation, no acknowledgement of the men at the tiprail, and not a sound from her lips. She's in her own space. Until the music starts, that is, and then she lights up and owns the stage. She's good at her routine. Very good.

And beautiful beyond comparison in a low key and confident way. In fact, as my eyes take her in I realize that she may just be the perfect stripper. She has platinum blonde hair, straight and silky and cut to a Vee in the back with a point that ends at her shoulders. A perfect beautiful Nordic face, Swedish let's say, that reminds me of 70's porn star Seka. Perfectly applied makeup and jewlery - diamond earrings and bracelets. A perfect body with a perfect tan. Big round fake tits with barbell piercings in each. Perfect washboard abs and sexy slim hips. A perfectly rounded ass with long toned and tanned legs. Perfect feet in sexy shoes. And tattoos - I think I counted 9, all tastefully done and placed and colorful.

She had a signature move on stage, during her first song while still dressed in her tight shorts: her back against the pole, just her head and her ass touching the pole with her back arched away and her butt cleavage pressed deeper and deeper into the pole. Awesome! And in her second song, fully nude and leaned against the pole she would sensously spread her lips and show us her clitoral piercing barbell all shiny and wet.

Off the stage she prowled the club with her thousand yard stare. She didn't go from table to table to ask for dances. Oh no. Not this one. She could read the room and she knew where the dances were. Anyway, men found her for dances. As did the man who got a double dance from her in the booth right next to my table. Wow! Can she do a lapdance. In between dances she would retreat to a private dancer's seating area to visit with her friends. But she didn't talk. I never heard a word from her the whole night. Just a stare.

As for me, I waited too late to ask for a lapdance. She was gone before I knew it. It wasn't a shift change. She just left. My loss.

I still had a long drive ahead of me when I left the club. And I could think of nothing but her. And as I drove and thought about her prowling through the club night after night, year after year, pleasing the men but not acknowledging them, alive only for the other dancers, and staring that thousand yard stare.....

a fantasy developed:

I imagined Dancer's sex life, shaped by the dynamics of the club.

Her - the veteran with the thousand yard stare. The respected one. The teacher - the one that the others learned from and came to for advice. The dominant one. The predator. The others - there for her pleasure. Young and beautiful and wild and hers to choose from. Hers to teach. Hers to awe with her beauty and her perfect tanned and toned body. Hers to please and to take pleasure from. Which one will she choose?

I imagined Dancer watching, silently, as she prowled through the club. Choosing. Grooming. Seducing. Eliciting desire from each of her chosen new girls that drift through the club.

I could picture Dancer as she romanced them in their off hours, each new girl. Making her dinner at her tastefully appointed house. Romantic music in the background. Candles flickering. Listening to her and drawing life from her. Seducing her with girl talk on the couch. And then the kiss. Their first kiss - deep and passionate as Dancer leans over and takes her with her perfectly made up lips. Cradling her in her arms as she kisses her. One arm around her waist drawing her close. One hand behind her neck with her thumb caressing her jawline. Soft tongues entwining. Intoxicating scents of perfume combining. Pressing into each other with building desire.

I imagine dancer leading, confident and dominating, as she takes her into her bed. Feeling up her ass as they walk. Dancer is patient, knowing that she will be fulfilled, and she takes time to please her. Undressing her. Laying her down and kissing her slowly, passionately. Nibbling her neck. Pressing their breasts together deliciously before moving down to suck on them. Her knowing hands moving down to find their moist target. Long delicate fingers working in the wetness. In and out. Circling slowly but insistently on her clit until she hears the gasp and the urgent climax. The chosen is breathless and excited, not knowing full where this is going.

But Dancer knows and she's not finished. She withdraws her fingers and pushes them firmly into new girl's mouth. "Clean those off for me", she demands. And she moves down to continue the lesson. Dancer spreads her supple legs and moves in to feast. Fresh pussy. A familiar taste, but new with each new girl. She's patient and talented. Licking the length of her. Sucking in her clit. Lapping her with the flat of her tongue. Penetration. Tongue and fingers. Working it. Sucking it. A vibrator to take it up a level. Thrusting and licking until the orgasms have mounted and she's there.

And now it's Dancer's turn. She will teach new girl how to eat pussy. She will be fulfilled. Dancer draws her to her nipples and let's her tease the piercings with her eager tongue. And then Dancer lays her down and lowers her sex down to her waiting face. Humping her ever more aggressively. Teasing her clit piercing with her fingertips. Coming on her mouth. Using her for her pleasure as she has so many new girls.

But Dancer has to own her. To burn off the energy she's built up in the club. To take pleasure from taking her. Dancer buckles the strap-on around her slender hips and begins this lesson. She puts new girl on her knees and guides her artificial manhood to her lips. "Ask me", she says. "Ask me if you can suck my cock". "Please, may I suck your cock?" new girl says. She teases her at first. Resting it on her tongue without allowing her to take it in. Slowly at first. Small strokes. Let her get used to it. Dancer controls her, teaches her. Soon she's holding her head and fucking her face. Dancer's off in her headspace as she grinds. New girl holds dancers ass as she takes her deep in her throat. She wants to be taken and Dancer is the girl to do it.

And Dancer takes her. Missionary at first. A slow gentle grind. Face to face on the bed. Looking into her eyes and kissing her. Her master. Her teacher. Then doggy style. Dancer pounding into her furiously and deeply. Balls deep. Using her. Letting the strap-on press against Dancer's clit with each stroke. Gripping her hips as she finds her rhythm and slams into her. Staring with her thousand yard stare at the incoherent mess writhing below her. Finding her release.

And then Dancer is back into the club, another night, prowling again, choosing.

That's the fantasy that got me home down that long road that night. I'll be back. I will see dancer again.

Men and Lesbians: What's up with That?

I've heard that question many times. Most recently it was posed by SK8RN, a self-described skateboarding bisexual nurse, left in a comment on my post about "Couples in the Club" where I observed that my fascination with couples in strip clubs derived from men's obsession with lesbianism. In her words:

"Interesting insight on couples' experiences at strip clubs. I have to say I don't quite get men's fascination with lesbians. What's that about?"

First, let me correct myself. It's probably not accurate to say that men fantasize about lesbians. More likely we fantasize about bisexual women so that there's a chance that we get into the action too! But as long as there's two women in there having sex somewhere, it's all good.

Readers: you may want to jump in with your answer to this question. But I'll take the first whack at it.

Short version: One girl, awesome! Two girls, better!

Long version - follow me here:

- men are visual creatures. We're aroused primarily visually (although touch and smell are nice too!)
- men love to see naked women. This is axiomatic and requires no proof.
- men do not love to see naked men. At least straight men do not.
- men love sex
- being visual, men also love to see sex. To say that men are voyeurs is to be redundant
- "sex" implies two or more people. (I'm not knocking masturbation. Men will of course watch female masturbation videos.)
- if we're going to watch two people naked and sexual, we don't want to see a naked man in the mix.
- Now I'm back to: one girl, awesome! two girls, better!

That's my theory.

Three more thoughts on the topic:

1. One of my favorite links on my sidebar is "Girls Kissing" which features hundreds of pictures all of girls kissing. As I've said before, you could make a porn film of nothing but girls kissing and I'd buy it. But this website is close enough. The sets are arranged by country. Apparently girls kiss the world over and men are there to take the picture. Click "here" to sample a set from the USA. Check out sets 25 and 26. Those do it for me.

2. The tie in to strippers: one of the dancers feature in "College Girl Pretty - the Dancers" not only told me her theory about approaching couples, she also opined that most dancers are either gay or bi. I doubt that they all start that way. I'm guessing that working with beautiful naked coworkers all night brings that out in them. But what do I know. Anyway, I have have plenty of firsthand experience of dancers talking to me about other dancers that they have lived with or slept with. I remember every story and the fantasy that it inspired!

3. I'll tie it back into my original post about couples. Recently I stopped into a new club on the road at random. They happened to have a well known porn star dancing that night as a feature dancer and the club was packed. You actually had to buy a reserved seat at the tiprail to get up close. I found my seat at the rail and quickly noted that there were two blondes in the two seats to my right. Pretty girls. Friendly girls. Comfortable with each other. Why does one have her arm around the other? They almost look like a ......wait, they are a couple! Oh, my god. They are not shy about showing affection for each other. And for the dancers. As each dancer takes the stage these two stand up as a pair and hike up their tops and let the dancers have at them. Wow. A couple. A lesbian couple. Wait - strike that - a bisexual couple. How do I know. Because a guy came out of nowhere and asked if he could bump me down a seat. As he's talking to me he starts stroking one of the girl's thighs. "Are those your girls?" I naively ask. "That's my wife and her girlfriend. They've been at the tiprail all night". A trio! In the club with me. I thought I'd seen it all. It reminded me of Cat Nastey, her guy, and her mistress. Cat - were you there that night?

Here's to pretty girls, pleasing each other. At least in my dreams. Thank you ladies.

Breaking my Stride for my 100th Post

I'm going to interrupt my memories and commentary about my adventures as a strip club patron to celebrate my 100th post. It's not actually my 100th post - I got faked out by my Blogger profile counter which stopped counting at 98 for some inexplicable reason. But it's within +/- 10, close enough.

Some thoughts on this auspicious occasion:

- My inspiration to start this blog came from stumbling across a blog by "Dee Gee Girl" on the web. I don't even remember how. I just remember the lightning strike impact of reading her blog. How personal it was. How sexual it was. How hot it was. She inspired me and I sat down that night and started DANCEFAN. I always remember her for not only inspiring me, but for being the first blog to link to me. I had joined the blogger community and it felt like nothing else. Dee Gee Girl has since discontinued her site. Who knows, maybe she started another blog and is still out there. I wish her well. And if you're out there reading me, send me an email and say hi.

- That was almost a year ago - Nov 5th, 2003. (Hit the archives and read that 1st post. You'll like it and it explains me.) I had no idea at the time that I even had 100 stories to tell. I imagine that if you knew that at the start it would be hard to begin the journey. You just write one story at a time and see where it takes you. And I've had enormous satisfaction in the journey so far.

By the way, you may have noticed that I write long posts. Some of my early posts were, in fact, two posts - some musings and a tribute. They just flow out in one draft in one sitting.

- I also had no idea that anyone would want to read it. (I also started a political blog on the same evening with the same number of posts that almost no one, in fact, reads. Imagine that!) I don't write for readers, unless I'm answering a specific question. I write purely for me. I write what's inside me that I have to write. I write the only thing I could write. What I'm passionate about. I send it out into the ether. And then I think about the response. Having said all of that, the absolute best part of doing this has been meeting you readers and fellow naughty bloggers. Anonymously, of course. But in many ways more personally than most people I know in the flesh. You are an endlessly fascinating, interesting, witty, educated, sexy and alive community of people. Most people sleepwalking their way around the planet have no idea how special you are, but I'm proud to be associated with you.

- The site stats are a fun way to keep score. 100 posts, 36,000 words, almost 60,000 visitors, an average of 300+ hits a day, ocassional comments. That's all way more than I expected. But I don't obsess on them. But I do thrive on a connection made with you in an email or a comment. I live for the connection.

As usual, some thanks are in order:

- Thank you to Blogger for enabling my little dream here. I know it's fashionable to dis Blogger and to move on to bigger and better sites when you grow up, but I'm grateful to Blogger and will stay.

- Thanks to the strip clubs around the land that are havens for me on the road. To all of the Deja Vu, Pure Gold, Doll House, Diamond Club, Men's Club, etc's in the country. You provide a valuable service to the horny men of the USA. Of all the clubs I've been to in the country, I'll tip my hat to my favorite: The Kappa Kabanna

(Take the "club tour" on the site and check out the pics. I know the girls on the stage, and I think I'm even in the crowd in one of the pics. This will help you picture me at the tiprail.)

- Thank you to all the bloggers out there. I love my links sidebar and all of you that reside there. You're the group that I surf and enjoy weekly. You've contributed to my mental well being. And gotten me hopelessly horny on many occasions.

- Thanks to all the girls. The strippers. You are beautiful and interesting young girls with inconceivably difficult jobs. I have a deep appreciation for what you do and for who you are inside the club and out. I know that you are much much more than a stereotype.
I appreciate the connection we've made whether it's superficial in one lapdance or deep and personal over time.

Finally, I gave some thought recently to pulling the plug on DanceFan now that it's been a year. I have some pressing family issues that need my attention. And I watched several of my daily read blogs fall away: Working Girls, Pussy Ranch, Belle de Jour, all pulled the plug in their prime. It's like it was in the water or something. But the bottom line is this: writing this blog revitalizes me. It's my outlet for expressing an important part of me. And I have more to say. More stories. More observations. More tributes to dancers. So I'm staying, at least for a while.

What really helped me to decide to stay is several email conversations I'm having offline with readers, most of them new and most of them women, who have found the blog and have written me to say that I've given them some insight on this topic. It's interesting - men write to ask for advice on maximizing the club scene and women write to discuss the insight this has given them on personal dynamics of relationships in their lives. The email conversations I'm having off line have depth and vitality and almost amount to writing another blog!

I'll leave you with an example of a recent email that helped me decide to stay around and has started a long and fascinating conversation. She tells me that I "give good chat". Her email, subject line "Wow" goes like this:

"DanceFan,

I've been reading your blog for a couple of months now and your writing is very engaging and intelligent. It is also incredibly HOT. You seem to have a deep appreciation for women and their bodies. That alone probably makes you a nice guy to strip for.

Like many women I've had my ups and downs with the whole idiom of the strip club and strippers - am I threatened? Turned on? What? I've never been to a strip club (I would have to drive an hour to get to one). But I've recently been exploring my sexuality more: moving from a kind of shy tom-boy to a more outwardly feminine girly-girl. I see strippers as the pinnacle of feminine _expression. Almost an over-the-top femininity. Not necessarily something I want to emulate on daily basis, but I do fantasize about doing a strip/lapdance for my boyfriend.

I would say that before I read your posts, I would have viewed strippers as most feminist would have people believe - exploited, mentally disturbed sex workers too stupid to hold down a "real" job. Your posts point to women who are very much in control of their situation, enjoy what they do and probably make damn good money. What could be more feminist than that?

So, thanks for the enlightenment. You have definitely sparked some intense fantasies and hot sex on my end."

How could I not stay after that?

Couples in the Club

I have to say that I'm totally fascinated with couples in a strip club.

In fact, when I see an attractive couple in the club I spend as much time observing them as I do watching the lovely naked young strippers. Hard to believe, but true. I've written about it here before but I'm thinking about it again as I remember some fond memories of couple watching.

The root cause of this is, of course, men's fascination with lesbianism. An obsession to which I am not immune and am in fact a hearty proponent of. Lesbians. Girls kissing. Pretty girls lusting for each other. Is there anything sexier? And couples in the strip club play right into this fantasy. Right there, sitting at that table, is a fantasy event waiting to happen. Will the female of the couple have any interplay with the dancers? Will she go to the tiprail and tip them? Will she enjoy it if the dancers lavish extra attention on her there? Will she sit and talk with a dancer? Is she okay with her guy enjoying the dancers and is in fact sharing the dancer with him? Bliss. And the ultimate question: Will she get a private lapdance? Or better yet, a table dance out in the main club area that we all can voyeuristically enjoy?

I have over time seen all of that happen and I enjoy that visual experience almost as much as getting a dance myself.

What do the strippers think about couples coming into the club? What would you guess that they think? I happen to know to some degree because I've asked several dancers what they think. Here's what they've told me: a lot of them don't like it for two reasons.

First, dancers are wary of doing lapdances for girls. Quite simply, girl customers are grabbier than guys. They violate the "no touch" rules regularly. Why? Because they believe the dancers won't mind because, hey, it's another girl. I've seen this a lot with girls getting lapdances. They think nothing of grabbing or fondling the dancers. Guys know better. "Put your hands to the side" is often the warning we get before the dance begins. I've even had to sit on my hands before. This is the main reason that most clubs, so I've been told, do not allow single unaccompanied girls into strip clubs. Strange, but true. Can anyone out there back me up on this?

Second, couples are risky to approach for dancers. And a lot of dancers have had a bad experience approaching a couple. Not all females in a couple are happy to be there. Some are coerced. Some are intensely jealous and territorial. Most are judgemental of the dancers. So it's risky to approach a couple and it's uncertain whether or not they'll be able to sell a lapdance. Either because the guy is reluctant to act on his lust with the Mrs. there or because the Mrs. is discouraging it.

Of course, that's on average. That's not always.

For example, the last dancer I talked with on this topic had this story to share with me:

She saw a guy sitting alone and looking bored and she approached him to ask him "would you like a dance?". Out of nowhere comes the Mrs. A cute blonde all dolled up. "Shit", she thought, "a couple. I'm screwed. Get ready for the judgement." She was surprised when the guy answered "I don't want one, but I'm sure my wife does". It turns out that in this particular couple it was the wife who was really into clubs, not the hubby. Hubby didn't buy any dances and didn't even come to the VIP to watch his wife with a dancer. He was just in love with his wife and was supporting her desires. It turned out the the wife took the stripper up to the VIP and bought several very hot dances. She got up there and pulled up her skirt to show Dancer that she was not wearing any underwear. (A very guy thing to do in a club!) My dancer concluded that the wife was probably actually gay and not much into her husband and that the husband was very in love with his wife and would do this for her. But wife was really into the dancer and they had a very hot time fondling each other in the privacy of the VIP. Wait a minute.... I have to picture this.....Okay, I'm back.

More hot couple stories to come in Part II......

Semi-Sexual Healing

I'd had a bad week. She'd had a bad night. I walked into the club to find relief. She quickly found me to escape. And, in time, we healed each other.

She was troubled and trembling and talking a hundred miles an hour. She'd been traumatized by a group of drunk customers. Jerks in a class of their own in a club inhabited by less than savory characters. Assholes. She deserves better.

She needs to talk it out and I'm glad to listen. To share time with her. To share space with her. To feel her close to me with the delicious pressure of her lovely leg draped over mine. To breathe in the scent of her. To enjoy her beauty. To soothe her pain. I let her talk and I listened. Tell me a story, I say, to take her to a better place. A happier place.

I take her hand in mine. She's still trembling. I hold her hand and soothe her. I buy her a shot to steady her. And I suggest a way to heal us both. "Let's do some dances and bring your good mood back". "Oh, goody" she squealed and off we went to the VIP.


And heal me she did. And in the space of a short time we connect, again, she and I. In the dark. On a couch. Not alone, but all alone. Semi-sexual. But very personal and loving. She can relax here with me. It's a performance but she knows there's no pressure. It's our dance and we maximize every minute. Touching, carressing. Her young delightful skin appreciated under my fingertips. Pure total headspace. And in this public place I hold her close in a lover's embrace and let healing pass between us. Thank you, baby.

Back out in the club she's herself again. Lovely and lively. Smiling as she dances onstage. I release her and I watch her. Moving from table to table asking "Would you like a dance?". I watch her be sexual with other men and I know - She'll be okay.

And I'm released as well. One more dance before I go for pure fun. A signature dance - 2 songs for one with a prize. All of the dancers paraded out before us in a long beautiful line. I take my time and I choose. Dancer is tall and lithe and black and very, very young. Maybe 19 years old. Friendly and funny. A wide beautiful smile. She could move on that couch. Gliding over my body in a well scripted routine. Rub here. Turn there. Grind just so. Rubbing her breasts on me. Standing over me, showing me the delicious hidden parts. Finding my arousal with her shapely foot. Up close and personal. And as she's in my lap, facing away with her beautiful backside up against me, I'm awed by the flawless perfection of her young ebony skin - taut and shining and smooth as it stretches for a mile from the soft rounded cheeks up her tiny waist and her beautiful muscled back to her dainty shoulders into her long braided hair. I'm awed. It's a snapshot in time, unparalled beauty and sexiness frozen in my brain. This incredible young girl - what would it be like to be with her? I'm awed.

Second song, friskier yet. She pulls my shirt up and plays with my belly. Reaching under she tweaks my nipples. And she figures me out - it's not the grind that gets to me, it's the GFE. And she spends time close to me. Where I could breathe in her stripper scent and feel the smoothness of her cheek with my cheek. And for a moment, just a moment, I'm with her and she's with me. Thank you, baby.

And I'm out into the night. Healed for a moment. Semi-sexual healing. Thank you, ladies.