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.