Sunday, February 29, 2004

Pleasure Surfing

I want to pause and give props to the naughty blogs on my links list at left. All are interesting or hot or witty or a combination of those. I've gotten to cyber-know some of you through your blogs or comments here or emails and it's a pleasure to know you. My hat (or boxer briefs) is off to you all!

My current top 5 favorites:

P*ssy Ranch - Exceptionally witty. The Dennis Miller of the peepshow
Bell De Jour - Witty, charming, and hot call girl. If I were in London, I'd.....
Quiver - a patriotic kinkster. She brings out the Dom in me and makes my little soldier salute
Rentboy Diaries - He gets paid to have sex? Really? Where do I sign up?
Following my Rainbow - A new find. Mistress T. and her female Russian Friend... Schwinggggg!

Other blog highlights:

Sweetness Follows - Ouch! poor Chelle's tush
Dee Gee Girl - my original inspiration to blog. Gone but not forgotten
Twiddly Bits - and Dangly bits. A cuddly couple who invented a sex position - reverse missionary
Newlywed Nympho - lust on the homefront
Vanilla Sex Goddess - not so vanilla
Naked Loft Party - sophisticated big city debauchery
Panty Pulldown - young, chaotic, dysfunctional, and hot!
Probabebra - I don't get the name, but her and Jen and their new purple strap-on! I'm there.
beau de jour - my peer in writing from the customer's point of view (POV)
Fifth Cirle of Hell - kinky Kai in the frozen north
Naughty Alex - a slut wife by her own description. A beautiful, tantalizing, tease by mine.


My pointers:

Eros Blog - the King of naughty blogs. My surfing starting point and fascinating sex trivia
Menage a Blog - excerpter extraordinaire. Where I find most of my links to "diaries"

My favorite non-blog:

Girls Kissing - hundreds of photos of: girls kissing. Is there anything hotter or more sublime? I think not. In fact, the hottest photo that I've seen on the internet is the black and white photo of these two girls on this blog. A Tip to Vivid Video: you could make a 4 hour DVD of nothing but girls curled into each other's arms deeply and passionately French Kissing and I would buy it. In fact, let me direct it for you! But until then, this site will have to do. (Check out Switzerland, Set #7)


Check out my other links as well. Some don't post often, but there's some nugget of gold on all of them.

Lastly: I was wondering if there were sites out there that were done by strippers, or for strippers, with photos and stories and such. Now, based on a comment to a previous post, I know. Check out LeannaTaylor.com. I did. It looks like a very professionally done site with nice photos of dancers and strip clubs and more. Apparently Leanna does the site herself and it looks great. And one more thing - to Leanna - I wouldn't mind seeing you at the tiprail. Those legs. Those long, long legs....

If anyone knows of more stripper-centered sites clue me in.

O.K. - resume surfing

Wednesday, February 25, 2004

Let's hear it for the "GFE"

I learned a new term in the blogosphere. "GFE". Last week in a post on Pussy Ranch the delightfully witty Diablo Cody simultaneously:

1. caught my interest - by announcing her intention to resume regular stripping (pole type vs. the peep show) and
2. amused me - by decrying, in a different context, her ability to realistically provide the GFE, or Girl Friend Experience, that customers crave.

By GFE she means kissing, cuddling, romantic talk, etc. Diablo recognizes that a girl's ability to successfully fake the GFE translates to higher dollars. Her opinion of the GFE? "Gag" Understandable, entirely.

However, from the customer point of view, I say let's hear it for the GFE. I think she got it entirely right. From my perspective as a strip club patron it's highly prized.

In fact I would say it's exactly what I've described in a lot of my posts as the "headspace". Meaning - when we're in the private dancetime and it seems the most real, the almost-makeout with an almost girlfriend. With the "touch allowed" rules in the club I visit most it can seem almost entirely like a girlfriend-experience. And it's hot and terrific.

Sassy Girl

I remember a beautiful Dancer. Of all the strippers I've encountered in 20 years of clubbing, Dancer is the one most likely, to me, to have been a Cheerleader. Was she? Who knows. But she's looks like one, is built like one, dances like one, and she's got Spirit - Yes she does!

Beautiful and spunky. Toying with us mortal customers. Go ahead and slide up to the tiprail to get breasts in your face for a buck. You're liable to get much more with Dancer including some kind of playful abuse. She'll spank you, de-pants you, and stick your head up her shirt. And you'll enjoy it.

Dancer and I had been hit and miss for a while. One short dance with the promise of more. But I was usually with someone so she left me alone. But I was thinking about her. And so, a promise.... next time it's us. I signaled her online - "Next time I'm in grab me for extended dancetime". Her reply? "Can you handle me?" and "You know I'm busy when I'm working, so you grab me!"

And then next time came. It was party time in the club - big time. Theme night with party favors. Packed to the rafters. Lots of dancers signed in. Hard to find a seat. So I grabbed a beer, stood in the back, and scanned the club. None of my regular favorites were in tonight. But Dancer was. Prominent in the middle surrounded by guys. Resplendent in a tight pink track suit. Dazzling. No choice to make. Plenty of great girls - no doubt. All would be a fantastic time. But it was her or nothing tonight. And I wasn't in a rush.

I could go grab her. Make myself known. But I'll wait and let her come to me. Eventually I found a seat a the tiprail. Waiting. Biding my time. I soon figured out how many would dance for me onstage before her turn. All beautiful girls that I've written about before. Dancer N of the girl-on-girl show. Ms. "tanatalizing mile". Others as sexy at the tiprail. Breasts in my face for a buck. Thank you baby. A gorgeous girl at the tiprail opposite me getting special attention each and every set. Two hot couples right behind me. My Girl-Dar is pinging.

And then Dancer. She does her set, abuses some hapless birthday boy, and makes her way around the rail to the end - to me. A genuine look of suprise. "Hi, how've you been?". "Hi back. Find me later". And she's gone.

Finally an open table in the back. I settle in with my second beer and take in the music and the crowd. Mellow, unhurried. Lot's of pretty civilian girls to watch while I'm waiting. It will come. I have a sense about it tonight.

And then Dancer's back out on the floor, but not with me. She parks at a table for a while - 3 guys and a girl. Will they buy a dance? Several minutes and nothing. So she stands, and turns to me. And I smile slowly and beckon to her. Big smile back.

Dancer glides onto my lap for the talk time. She's smart and funny and sassy with an interesting life outside the club. And I love her sitting on my lap. I could just stay like that all night. But it's time so I proposition her: "Why don't we dance - extended version?" And the time I suggest is longer than she thought. "So that's what you meant by extended version!" And she's excited and ready to go.

And we danced in private. You know how it goes. I've described it before. 1/2 hour of total GFE. Touching, caressing, moving together in unison, cuddling, the works. The almost make-out. And she was everything I thought she'd be. We took a couple of songs to work it out. No rush. Let her get used to me and know that she would not have to fight me off. Time to get close. Time for the routine to be done and the sharing to begin. Time to wake up our senses.

And then I got to know her. Beautiful shoulder length blonde hair teasing through my fingers. Her weight on my lap pressed against me. Cheek to cheek, breathing together. My fingertips tracing her soft delicious skin. Her back, her scrumptious silky smooth ass, her thighs, the nape of her neck, the softness of her belly. Her surprise at the intimacy of it. Sparks of sassy, but minutes of ease and comfort and arousal. Laughs among the sighs and purrs as I revelled in the deliciousness of her. Her skin too soft and perfect to describe and too wonderful to forget.

And time was up. "Wow that was quick" she says, a sign I think that she enjoyed it too. Hugs and I'm out.

Thank you, sassy Dancer. I'll remember you.

Friday, February 20, 2004

Couples Dance

Couples always intrigue me in a strip club. They catch my eye as I'm observing my fellow denizens of the dark.

I'm not talking about groups that include couples, or parties, or any configuration other than simply a guy and a girl at a table. I'm a people watcher, and I like to watch these couples in the club.

Originally I thought that dancers would love to see couples come in. Seemed to me that it would be two chances at getting a paid dance. You know that eventually the guy is going to buy the girl a lapdance for the thrill of it. And that's probably right for some dancers. But I've had the chance to talk to dancers about this in our idle chat time, and I found out I'm probably misreading it. What they tell me is that they often dread when couples come in because they worry that the girl is somehow being coerced to be there and doesn't really want to. Also, they worry about being judged by the woman when the guy wants a dance. I'm sure it happens.

I've seen both situations. I've seen both parties really into it and enjoying their time in the club. And I've also seen the girl look petrified to be there. That's a shame.

I remember a couple in an upscale local club that I was new to at a table next to mine. I first thought she was a dancer. She was beautiful and dressed to kill and he was kind of a shlub. He sat massaging her shoulders as he watched the stage show. What clued me in that she was a coerced wife was the stare. Fixed, unending, dead. She stared at some object just off the stage and never wavered. She never once looked at the stage. No conversation, just neck massage and staring. Sad.

On the other hand: I remember a club in the South - years ago. I spent several nights in a row in this club on a business trip. One night I sat next to a trio of couples out on the town and they were more interesting than the stage shows. These were clearly close friends, able to share wild experiences with each other. All night long the couples were into each other and into the dancers. And the wives were just as into it. I'm guessing that they'd been there before. And man was it hot! At this club the common practice was dancing at the tables, not in private. You'd just turn your chair around and they would dance for you. These couples got continuous dances all night. All of the dancers would float into the rotation thru these 6 people. First dancer would dance for hubby, the usual grind with a twist where she would walk her hands up his thighs into the leg openings of his shorts. Oops, naughty! Then over to the Mrs. for the long sensual dance with the lip brushing kiss and the lingering breast fondle and the Mrs. melting into her seat. Over and over all night long with me only 3 feet away. Hot!

So guys, if you take a date to the club, make sure she wants to be there. If she does, it'll be hot.

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.

Friday, February 06, 2004

The Tantalizing Mile

I went to see the movie "The Big Bounce" this week. Midweek. Empty theater except for me (Good for me: awesome feeling to have a movie shown solely for you! Bad for the movie's box office). Let me recap for you. There's a girl in a yellow bikini on a beach, and then 97 minutes of lame other crime caper stuff. Did I mention the girl in the bikini?

Bikini girl's name is Sara Foster and I only mention her because she reminded me strongly of a beautiful young Dancer I spent private time with, somewhere back in the dark.

I stopped in to the club on an off night. Dancers I hadn't met before. I knew I was in trouble when my quick headcount revealed 4 dancers, 2 customers including me. It wouldn't be long before I would have company at my table. How many would I dance with tonight?

And there she was, gliding in from my periphery. Dancer was a heartstopper and she took my breath away as she floated into her seat. We talked. A stilted introductory talk. She was so young, and so new to this, and so shy. Delightful. But bored already by the night. As soon as the words "How is your night going?" were out of my mouth I knew what the exasperated answer would be. "Slow. I'll be on stage every 10 minutes." And soon she was.

I took my place at the tiprail and marvelled at her beauty. Dancer was a skyscraper. Fashion model gorgeous. Long shapely legs, magnificent derriere, a tantalizing mile between the small of her back and her lovely shoulders - hidden in a tangle of strawberry blonde hair. Just a hint of breasts atop an impossibly tight belly. Oh my.

Easy decision. Quality time with one girl tonight. So we danced, extended version, private area, touch rules. "Do you mind light touching?" I asked, knowing the rules but asking just the same. She was fine with the touch, yet shy in the dance.

And Dancer danced, which surprised me. Energetic and kinetic! Not usually what we do in the 1/2 hour dance, because it is after all 1/2 hour and you could wear out. Dancers and I usually do the slow "almost-makeout" snuggle on my lap. But not this Dancer. I had a "Flashdance" show at my couch. Different - let's go with it. And I touched and caressed as I'm of a mind to do. And Dancer was anywhere but on my lap. Not yet comfortable with the presence of the wood, I'm guessing.

But then it slows. And the energy dissipates. And she lays out across my lap, back to me, the sweat glistening on her brow and she comes to rest on my shoulder. Her breathing catches and slows as I softly stroke the skin of her calf, and outer thigh, up her hip, with my fingertips grazing along her ribcage, teasingly missing her breast, and up her shoulder and down her outstretched arm to calmly hold her hand. Our cheeks nuzzling, hot breath on her neck and ear. And I'm getting to her.

She turns slowly astride me, facing me, pressing herself into my chest. And I hold her gaze as a beautiful smile crosses her angelic face. Still avoiding my lap, but my ribs will do. Cradling my head and softly resting a breast on my face she rubs against me. Letting herself go for a moment. And I'm stroking her back and her sides and cradling her backside and all of my thought is focused into the most delicious spot where her soft perfect cheek meets the inside top of her thigh. All for me in this moment. I don't care who has her outside this world, she's all for me in this moment.

Time's up and the moment collapses. Thank you, baby. You were indeed memorable.

posted by DanceFan at 2/6/2004 12:59:40 AM