Monday, September 27, 2004

College Girl Pretty, Part II - the Dancers

... so I was mellow, kicked back, enjoying watching the college girl civilians in the club.

I wasn't planning on getting dances. Just watch the stage show and head out. Nice plan - not possible. Too many sexy girls to tempt me. Quite a variety here. From hardbody stripperella fembots to girl-next-door types. College girls in this college town? Not likely for the dancers, but they could be.

Pretty. College Girl Pretty.

I'm partial to the girl-next-door types and soon one found the empty seat next to me.

Chastity. A sexy southern girl all dolled up. But I can’t really see that yet because of how we’re sitting. All I see is pretty. (I know, I know, I keep saying that – but when you’re in a room where all the girls are pretty and semi-naked it kind of sticks in your head!) We started the small talk of the transaction. “What kind of work do you do”, she asked me. “Boring stuff, nothing as fun as what you do”. And I turned the talk to her. Chit chat about club life and protocol. Have you danced here long? What do you think about the college crowd? Do the girls ever get dances from you? Are you friends with any of the other dancers? Interesting talk, but all I see is a natural beauty who is very, very pretty.

Chastity. If you weren't paying attention, or were dazzled by the stripperella's you would miss her. That would be a mistake. Chastity was worth spending quality time with. Long silky brown hair. Great makeup on her tanned pretty face. Bright red corset and a black miniskirt.

She danced a stage set, slow and sensual. I met her at the stage steps to tip her. Standing up – odd but nice. It’s like a 30 second stripper slow dance. Up close and personal. She smells so good – that intoxicating stripper smell. I could breathe that in for hours. Nice. She found me again after her set. “I liked your dance”, I offer. “I don’t really dance”, she says. “I walk around and look pretty”. That she does.

And we danced – one short table dance – her standing, me in a chair. Starting the way I like it. Leaning in and enveloping me in her long silky hair. Drawing me in. Her pretty face against mine, nuzzling, with lots of quality eye contact. Then the routine – featuring the body parts each in turn. Lovely swell of soft natural breasts. Flawless skin on a tight arching back. Well rounded derriere – tracing her finger along the g-string disappearing into that lovely crevice. And finally, back to the GFE. Carressing my face with her hair just as I like. Pretty girl. College Girl Pretty. Thank you baby.

I’m satisfied. I could leave, but there’s only the hotel to go back to and it’s looking like an all-nighter before I pour myself onto a plane for exhausted sleep. So I linger.

And into the void slides Victoria. Again, a beauty. So natural that I have to wonder – is she really a stripper? The ruffled teddy says yes, but it’s not obvious. Another hidden treasure. Beautiful shoulder length black silky hair. Exotic olive colored skin of unknown exoctic ethnicity. Sexy, alluring nose with the slightest downturn at the tip. Subdued natural makeup. Petite sexy body. Sexy butterfly tattoo high up on her shoulder blade. Pretty. College Girl Pretty.

We talk. Shop talk again and I draw out of her some stories. Her memories of working in the club. And quickly I notice it. She’s leaning on me. Really, really close. The delicious feel of her body pressed against mine. And whispering in my ear. Really, really close. Close enough for that warm sexy tickle. Does she like me? Then I figure it out – she’s cold. We’re sitting right under a vent and she’s semi-naked. I represent warmth! Works for me. I enjoy the artificial snuggle.

And we dance – same pattern. First the tiprail. And I join her, standing – aroused, as she dirty dances up against me for my $1. Nice. Then I move us to a warmer table and we dance a table dance. Slow and sensous. Minimal grinding – maximum GFE. Lots of contact with her deep, gorgeous eyes. She’s very pretty, Victoria. College Girl Pretty. Thank you, baby.

I am satiated here in college town with all my pretty girls. And I close the place down and head off into the night to find rest in the early morning skies.

Thank you, ladies.

Thursday, September 23, 2004

College Girl Pretty, Part I

She was there in the club. I knew it. Everyone knew it. She was, in fact, the center of the club universe. And without knowing it, without pretense or artifice, she commanded our attention.
Not a dancer. A college girl. Very pretty. College Girl Pretty.

Take 2 on this club. Been here before and passing thru again. (July 23rd, "Buy that Pretty Girl a Table Dance”). And here I am again. Passing away a sleepless night on the road waiting for an impossibly early flight. I kind of like this particular club with the unique interplay of two stages in one. So I get a beer and settle in.

There's a good vibe in the club. Mellow. Big crowd - mostly college kids including lots of pretty females! Pretty girls. College Girl Pretty.

Our girl was at a table with a mixed group of about 8 or so partiers. She wasn’t doing anything to draw attention to herself except having fun with her buds. She didn’t have to do anything. She was radiating beauty and raw sex appeal and every guy in the club knew exactly where she was at all times.

She was, in fact, very possibly the most gorgeous civilian girl I've ever seen in a club. She reminded me of Sarah Kozar, the runner up on the 1st “Joe Millionaire” show – but younger and three dimensional. Rail thin with golden blonde hair and a deep tan setting off sparkling white teeth in a million dollar smile. Bare, and kissable, tanned midriff and a perfectly shaped ass hugged by tight faded jeans. Yeow! She was a delight to watch. Dazzling and vibrant. All into the club scene and not afraid to go to the tiprail.

She unknowingly put on quite a show for us when she went to the tiprail. All conversation slowed and all male heads turned whenever she walked up to the stairs leading up to the stage for her stand-up tip. I'm sure she knew we were watching, but she was definitely there for herself. And the dancers appreciated her too and lovingly showed it. I know I've never gotten fondled at the tiprail to the extent she did, but I sure enjoyed watching it. Watching a blonde dancer, sexy in her own right, slowly and tantalizinly work her way from a serious kiss, down over her breasts, sliding down in between her parted legs, reaching her hand up through her legs to feel her delicious ass and slide a finger back through the crotch of her jeans. Mesmerizing. There is no better show than a pretty girl tipping an appreciative dancer.

And she was pretty. College Girl Pretty.

to be continued......

Wednesday, September 15, 2004

Downtown Danger

"you're not immortal, ya know?"

That advice came from an inquisitive and fascinating new friend who I've been having a lengthy email conversation with. I had told her a story. A ten year old memory, strip club related. A memory that reminded me of a movie. A memory triggered by a stray comment she made about the fact that I go into strip clubs alone in strange cities.

"Sheesh, how did you get the courage to do that the first time? I have a hard time going to a restaurant by myself!".

Sidenote: ladies, what's up with that? Businessmen eat by themselves on the road all the time. I've eaten solo in hundreds of restaurants. My wife, on the other hand will not. Every now and then I tell her to go treat herself to a nice dinner and I'll handle the kids. If she can't find a friend to go, she isn't going. Simple as that.

Back to the memory. I was thinking of all the situations I've walked into on the road. All the strange cities that I've set out in the night into in search of a semi-clad adventure, strip club style. And it brought back a memory and reminded me of a movie.

The movie first. Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman in "Eyes Wide Shut". The first time I saw it I watched it just as a movie and I thought it sucked. The second time I watched it I realized that I could totally relate to Tom's situation as few others can.

If you've seen it you know the basic story. Tom is a wealthy doctor in the big city. They live a fairy tale upper class life that's undisturbed until one odd, dangerous night. Hearing of an orgy, and unbeknowst to his wife or his friends or family, he sets off in search of it. He stumbles through escalating situations of danger in an underworld that's foreign to him. As you're watching you're thinking "Tom, what the hell are you doing?". He doesn't even realize how out-of-his-element he is. Until finally even his life is in danger.

I've had moments like that. Moments when I was out in the night in a new city looking for a club. Seedy moments. Scary moments.

Picture this: 10 years ago, downtown L.A. I flew in for a conference at a downtown hotel. Saturday and Sunday were adventure time. I put 400 miles on my little rental car getting all around La La land. Malibu, Venice Beach, Sunset Strip, etc. Dozens of little nooks and crannys. I made up my own tour as I went.

I even found a little strip club downtown both nights. All I remember is an amazing variety of women, including some truly exotic Asian women, and spending too much money. I had my fun and I got it all out of my system by Sunday night.

Monday through Thursday I behaved and focused on the conference. By Thursday night I was stir-crazy in the hotel. So I went out for a walk to get away. I thought about going back to the club, but I opted for just a walk. Into downtown L.A. I just picked a direction and started walking. (Looking at a map later I figured out that I headed into Inglewood). After about 25 blocks I realized this might not be a good idea. I looked around and realized that it was getting dark and that all of the shops had bars on the doors and windows. I reversed course and headed back, double time. I almost made it back when I got company. Two of L.A.'s downtown denizens joined me, one on each side, and started chatting me up. Is this pan-handling I thought? I only need to get back a few more blocks. The talk turned to how I could help them get a room for the night to get off the streets. Reluctantly, I fished a $5 out of my pocket and offered it up. Then it got serious. A tighter hold on my elbows. A flashed crude weapon. A growl: "Not enough!" I managed to get a bill out of my wallet - a $20. Enough? Fortunately yes. A rough shove, and they peeled off into an alley. I'd call it "aggressive pan-handling". I looked at that alley and realized I could have been "disappeared" into that alley and no one would have had a clue where I was. I made it back to the hotel, checked out, and flew home.

"you're not immortal, ya know?"

Yes, indeed. I'd like to say I've learned my lesson. But any given road trip will find me in a new city and out into the night. I do live life.

My new friend doesn't even know me, but she cares for me enough to give me safety advice. That's why I love blogging. Thanks, friend, and I hope you have a great, and safe, week.

Friday, September 10, 2004

Fairways or Tip-Rails?

So, which is a better way to spend 3 hours?

1. 18 holes on a beautiful public golf course. Walking with a pull cart. Beautiful weather with the trees just starting to change colors. A relaxed pace with only the sound of a club striking a ball. A few great shots and a lot of less than memorable shots. Greens fees, pull cart, bag of tees, hot dog, and a coke = $18.80

or

2. Music thumping into my chest at a club. Hanging out a back table talking with some lovely and fascinating young ladies. Hovering at the tiprail and getting up close and personal with sexy naked ladies. Playtime in the VIP lapdance area. Cover charge, drinks for me and some dancers, tips at the tiprail, 1/2 hour lapdance = $200 or so.

The few times I get on the golf course I would have to say that golf is the winner.

But then, I don't have a blog about golfing - do I?

What say you?

Tuesday, September 07, 2004

Two Dollar Dances

"Two songs until dollar dances!" I heard the DJ say.

Customer's eye's lit up. We love the dollar dances. Dancer's faces fell. Clearly, they hate them.

How does it work? They're basically sample lapdances. At the appointed time all of the dancers come out on the floor in lapdance attire - meaning naked or nearly so. When the music starts you hold up two $1 bills. A dancer will stop at your seat and give you a 30 second or so sample lapdance. Then the DJ says "switch" and she moves on. It's her chance to sell you on the idea of a dance.

And the music started.

$2 up. Dancer #1: A dark haired beauty, new to me. Lithe and supple. A sensous sample. Facing away from me on my lap, with slow lightly grinding circles waking me up.

Switch!

$2 up. Dancer # 2: Sassy Girl. Leaping into my lap with a whoop. Happy to see me. Boundless energy in a sexy as hell package. She was literally shaking me in my chair, drawing me into her. Yeow!

Switch!

$2 up. Dancer #3: My Lovely Dancer. Quickly into the groove. Passionate on a budget. She really is quite lovely. A quick connection, cheek to cheek.

Switch!

$2 up. Dancer #4: Tall, willowy, gorgeous. Young girl hair, sexy girl body. Tantalizing tattoos in all the right places. A classic lapdance, abbreviated version.

Switch!

$2 up. Dancer #5: My missed opportunity girl. I've danced with her before, but not often enough. Long straight hair. Beautiful makeup. Soft full body. Completely skilled at the GFE. Dancer parted my knees and slid in between them. Eye contact the whole time as she moved up and down my body. Warm breath in my ear as she whispered "If you want a dance, call me". I really, really, really need to spend some time with this exceptional young lady.

And it's over. 1 song. $10. Worth the money.

Saturday, September 04, 2004

My Eyeballs had Hard-Ons

Friday night in the Midwest. Maybe the last weekend of warm weather. What's that spell?

F-O-O-T-B-A-L-L

High School football.

Cheerleaders. Pom Pom Girls. Pony tails. Short skirts. Enough said.

Testosterone on the field, estrogen in the stands. All the pretty girls in town on parade, relentlessly crisscrossing the stadium with one goal - to be seen. Hugs and giggles and working the text messaging to find out where their friends are sitting.

Some pretty girls my age. Even from my class 25 + years ago. Did they look that good then? I think they're getting better.

Some college age girls looking sexy and stylish.

But mostly high school girls. Hordes and hordes of high school girls roving in packs of age and status.

Seniors - looking good. Juniors - developing. Sophomores - Oops, stop there! Look away. Steer clear of that section.

Back to the seniors. Yeow. I don't remember so many good looking girls in my class. Blondes, brunettes, an occasional red-head. Ponytails, long silky hair, short sun streaked bobs. Tight, low-cut jeans showing off showing off shapely backsides. Bare midriffs with flat tanned tummies. Pert breasts filling out multi-colored tees with "Blondes do it better" logos. Do what better? Okay, I'm thinking about it.

Snapshot: a guy and a girl at the rail at the edge of the field. Her, strikingly beautiful and oozing teen sexuality, staring at his face. Him, bored and aloof, staring at his buddies in action. I wanted grab him by the collar and shake him. Hey, dude. The action's right in front of you. Do you realize what a privilege it is that she's there with you? Pay attention to her! But, as we all know, it's wasted on youth.

Snapshot: Two 18-ish beauties standing in front of me. Blocking my view - except that they are the view. One blonde. A tanned goddess with softly curving breasts filling out her top. A gorgeous smile and a bubbly personality. Her friend - the sophisticate. Long straight black hair spilling over her delicate shoulders. Sleek, tanned legs that go on for miles. Invading each others personal space in a focused intimate conversation. Fresh. Scrubbed. Innocent. Hot.

Snapshot: Definitely some future strippers in the making on display tonight. Not the cheerleaders so much. But the shy girls, the semi-bad girls who will blossom into stage beauties.

My eyeballs had hard-ons all night.

And, oh yeah, there was a football game too. We lost. It's going to be a long year.

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

One Degree of Pornstar Separation

I held a cigarette lighter that was held by porn superstar Brianna Banks.

Better yet, I was kissed on the cheek by the soft, pretty, sexy lips of a dancer who kissed porn superstar Brianna Banks.

Better than that, I sat at a table tonight and talked and laughed with 3 beautiful, hot, young dancers - two of whom have recently kissed and were otherwise fondled by the #1 sex superstar of the porndom - the incomparable Brianna Banks. (Jenna Jameson and Kobe Tai being a close 2nd and 3rd!)Enjoying Brianna by proxy in their hot stories of their encounter with her. (Apparently she is not only prettier in person than in her videos - hard to believe- but also a very nice person as well).

A pretty good night. Thank you, ladies, for the visual. It will get me by.