Going Upscale - A Gentleman's Club binge

Trust me here – everyone owes it to themselves to go to a truly upscale Gentleman’s Club at least once in your lifetime. They’re not just a strip club. More than that. Find your way to one of the few clubs, mostly in metropolitan cities, that are truly the high end of the gentleman’s entertainment industry.

I’m just coming off of long travel grind which included a two night binge sampling some of these clubs. Wow. It was strip club heaven, and a magnificently decadent safe pleasure extravaganza. I’ll tell you all of my stories in a series of posts. And I do have stories.

Whether you spend a fortune at the upscale club, or you do it on a budget, you have to do it. They are the ultimate fantasy playground. And they are all about money, or the appearance of money. From the elaborate architecture, to the services offered in cigars or champagnes or high end menus, to the opulent décor – the upscale clubs overload your senses and indulge your fantasies.

I remember all of the little moments, hours and hours of them, from the last two days.

Contact - Glamorous and exotic strippers. And one very special Venezualan beauty.

And voyeurism. Watching the gorgeous Brad and Jennifer yuppie couples out for a night of wild fantasy. Girls abandoning their inhibitions at the tiprail. I remember all the stories, and I will play them out here – just for you.

But first some homework. Go visit these links and take the virtual tour and see for yourself, if you’ve never been, what an upscale club looks like. Then come back here for the next few posts as I relive the experiences.

The Men’s Club
Spearmint Rhino

As for me, I need some time to decompress. To savor. To remember. To express. The experience is still too fresh, having ended just a few short hours ago. I’ll just leave you with the thought that the first leg of my flight back to reality, which I’m midjourney on now as I write this, and it’s two hour flight of twighlight half-sleep was made more interesting by the continuous and urgent erection that these memories evoked.

To be continued…..

Anticipation....

Tonight is strip club night. And I'm already starting to anticipate....

On the road. A new city, a new opportunity to explore the vitality of this big city with it's variety of choices of gentleman's clubs. A new chance to meet the beautiful and sexy entertainers in this part of the country. New memories to create. A brief respite from the grind, and a reward for the road warrior life.

I've done the scouting, finished in fact shortly after check-in. And the yellow pages tell me that, by chance alone, there are several fine clubs within reasonable distance of my hotel. The thrill of the selection awaits. I'm anticipating the details: the layout of the club, the stages, the lighting, the thumping music. And the ladies - most of all the ladies. Young and younger. Jaded and fresh. Dolled up and girl-next door. Luxurious hair and long legs. Friendly and sexy. Tantalizing skin. Mesmerizing smells. Inviting chatter. Arousing contact. The dancers most of all.

So the preparation begins. It's too early to go. But I must prepare for my night out.

First, some rest for the long night ahead. A pleasant dream, perhaps, of the ladies.

Then, grooming. A long, unhurried, shower. Cleansing lather. Invigorating shampoo. A shave as I shower - immaculately smooth jaw and chin, and a porn star trim below. Clean and refreshed top to bottom.

Finally, dressing. Business casual, I think. No jeans or T-shirts. I owe it to the dancers who are working so hard to make an effort to be presentable. Casual, clean shoes. Button down shirt with some style. Slacks, clean and pressed. Commando underneath, for maximum enjoyment of the experience. TMI, probably, but true and important. Fresh breath. Light cologne. not Brad Pitt, but presentable.

And it will soon be time to enjoy my night, my way. DanceFan's way. Meeting the lovely entertainers of the night in this far off town. So ladies, let's meet and share and enjoy. Let the show begin!

Feature Dancers: the Queen of Lesbian Porn

Feature dances from porn starlets. They are a treat. The ultimate stripper experience.

And one of my favorites was a night that I spent in the company of the Queen of Lesbian Porn - Felecia. (Photo gallery here)

If you are an afficionado of lesbian porn, you have seen Felecia. You may not know her by name, but you have seen her. I read somewhere that she has performed in over 600 porn films to date. And every one of her scenes is girl-girl. She does not work with men. She's married to a man, but does not work with them on film. You can find her on any all girl compilation film, and on quite a few Vivid Video films. She is the ultimate ubiquitous lesbian porn star.

Felecia is a unique beauty in the adult film world. She's a sexy, petite, latina girl with beautiful bronze skin and long, luxurious brown hair. She's pretty, no doubt, and has an electric and lovely smile in all of her scenes. Felecia has small, natural, breasts with tiny brown nipples that harden visibly with passion when pinched. She has a sexy slim waist and a deleciously firm and well shaped derriere. A delightful girl-next-door look in a world of silicone blondes. Felecia reminds me of a petitie and slim version of Salma Hayek. A triple-X version of her as well.

Felecia's scenes in porn movies are always hot and believable. This is a girl who clearly loves to have sex with women. She's a giver who will put in the effort to please her partner without looking like it's a chore. And she's a receiver who releases herself to the passion of another woman's touch. She glows in the throes of passion. Felecia also has a kinky side and can be found in some recent fetish lesbian films as well. Not that I would know...I've just heard. :)

I happened to see an advertisement for a club in my state that was hosting Felecia as a feature dancer. I made sure that I was there for her performances. And seeing her in person absolutely lived up to my expectations.

I met Felecia at the tiprail, where I found a seat front and center for her first show of the night. This particular club has a fairly small stage and the dancer is literally two feet away from you as she works the pole or grinds on all fours across the stage, so I was looking forward to seeing her up close and personal. One of the house dancers sat down next to me to enjoy the show as well.

"Have you heard of her before?" house dancer asked me.

"Of course, she's a legend." I replied.

"Are you going to try to hit on her?" she asked me.

"Baby, you clearly don't know Felecia. You have a chance of going home with her. I don't. I'm just here for the stage show, which should be quite a treat."

Felecia did a marvellous show. Very professional and polished. Costumes and lights and very sexy dancing.

As I recall, she started her set in a slinky form fitting sun dress that showed off her tan, flawless skin well. All smiles as she worked herself out of the dress and made her way around the tiprail for her first round of tips. And then, magically, she was right in front of me. Those perfect little brown nipples against me. That perfect ass passing by me. Wow. Beautiful and very real.

House dancer next to me was smiling ear to ear and tipping for all she was worth.

The second song brought out the towels and tarps and it was time for Felecia to get wet. With great fanfare, she oiled herself up with a lotion bottle and rubbed it all in for our viewing pleasure.

The third song was a merchandising song, with Felecia dispensing out posters and tapes to vocal fans with higher tips.

The highpoint was after her set, in the autograph booth. I waited my turn in line and had a couple of minutes to meet her, still naked, still wet, still radiant. I bought one her DVD's which she autographed for me. And, as an impulse, I decided to pay for an autographed polaroid photo of her and I. I sat down in the booth expecting her to sit down demurely on my lap. Nope. Better. The next thing I knew, Felecia plopped her petite frame down on me, pulled her knees up to her chest, and placed my hands behind her knees - holding her open in effect for the open shaved kitty photo that I have locked deeply away, never to be seen by another human being. Incredible.

So thank you, Felecia - the Queen of Lesbian Porn and a sexy and talented stripper as well. You were more beautiful in person than you are on film, if that's possible. And you made my year. It was an excellent and unforgettable strip club experience.

Peek-a-Boo

I had an hour to kill tonight, so I stopped into a club. Not my regular club, not my regular routine. Early evening shift. Sparse crowd. Maybe a beer and some tiprail and home, I'm thinking.

An upscale club: fine dining, cigars, caviar, shoe shines and massages if you want them. A men's room attendant with a running stream of banner while I did my business, a warm towel while I washed up, and beer on ice on my way out. I found a quiet table stage side.

4 dancers in a row, cute but not grabbing me. Sexy, yes. Semi-naked, yes. Piercings, yes. Tattoo's, yes. But they're not doing anything for me. One more dancer, finish my beer, and I'm out.

And then she came. The total package. A vision of erotic loveliness. A pure sex kitten. Black stripper shoes. Black knee high stockings over perfectly shaped calves. Exquisite creamy thighs rising into a red and black plaid school girl skirt. Pert breasts protruding out of a matching red and black plaid top. A beathtakingly beautiful, flawlessly made-up, sorority girl face. And the finishing touch. A full lions mane of blonde Tawny Kittaen hair. Stunning.

I found my way to the tip rail, opposite an attractive 40ish couple sitting down as well. The Mrs. was a sexy woman in her own right - a blonde Junior Miss in sweater and pearls. Classy and hot!

Dancer made her way down the stage between us, strutting her stuff and letting that sexy skirt swish. What's under that skirt? Quickly, she found my dollar on the tip rail and she snuggled up to me at the rail. Dazzling, soft, and deliciously scented as she cradled me to her. Nice.

Dancer moves to the other side of the tiprail, to the smiling anticipating couple. She gets up on the rail on her knees and bends over to put her arms around the Mrs. Peek-a-boo. Now I know what's under the skirt. Nothing, nothing at all. BAM! Right in my face. Shaved kitty. Dancer had dispensed with the panties. Peeking out from under the skirt is a perfectly rounded derriere framing smoothly shaved private parts. Staring right at me. Oh, my god. Incredible.

Dancer took her time molesting the Mrs. for our entertainment. Hands exploring the sweater, feeling her up slowly and firmly. A dollar bill tucked into the belt for dancer to lean over and retrieve with her teeth, perfect ass high in the air. Smothering the Mrs. in her ample tits. The kiss and the makeout, lingering and hot.

And back to me. Hovering straight up over me on the tiprail. The cookie at eye level, with her fingertip stroking through her lips. Perfect thighs and perfect belly, oh so close. "Thank you, baby", I say as she moves on.

And it's over. And as I prepare to leave, Dancer jumps back out on stage in the procession of beauties for the signature dance. As Dancer hits the end of the stage to be escorted off by the bouncer, a puff of air blows up her sexy plaid skirt. Peek-a-boo once more. That beautiful naked ass. "Would you like a dance", she asks the nearest customer, panties already forgone.

And I'm out.

Ciao, Bella.

Feature Dancers

Feature Dancers - the top rung of the stripper strata. The traveling circus troupe of the strip club circuit. Let me take a few posts to remember some of the best that I've seen.

Let's divide the stripper world into two parts today, for the sake of discussion.

First, and first in my heart, are the "house" dancers. They are the regular girls at a club who work their special magic on us poor souls night after night, week after week. And I'm thankful for them. This club, this one club is their place of business - their home. These wonderful ladies are the heart and soul of stripper world.

Second, like an expensive champagne or gourmet dessert on a special occasion, are the "feature" dancers. The features travel the circuit, chain club after club, with their G-strings and boas packed in a suitcase. Their coming is trumpeted on marquees and advertisements for weeks before their arrival. They are the rock stars of stripper world.

The feature show is a sight to behold. Feature dancing involves a show beyond the mere act of stripping, although the stripping will come. 3 sets a night, with a dramatic flair to each. 3 songs to each set. But not until the dramatic into by the DJ with a reading of the stars bio and dramatic stadium jam music and intense lighting and ocassionally smoke or fireworks. The first song of the feature dance is an elaborate costume show with a theme and a trip around the tiprail to collect tips. Up close and personal with enthusiasm and fleshly contact. The second song is stripping to reveal the body of the goddess. More tip rail action is possible. The third song is the merchandise song, with the feature dispensing posters and DVD's to the cheering crowd, merchandise first rubbed on private parts for maximum effect before being tossed to the loudest admirer. Finally, the feature retires to a booth for autograph signings and polaroid photos with her fans, while the house dancers resume the grueling work of the evening.

Believe it or not, and you may not if you're not a patron of several strip clubs around the nation, quite a few porn stars moonlight as feature strippers. Not just the unknowns trying to make a living and a name for themselves. Oh no. The best of the best. The top level porn queens. The Jenna Jamesons, the Janine's. the Brianas. Fortunately for us, they all hit the road for a tour of the best clubs in the country at some point or other. Unbelievably, you and I as Average Joes and Jills can wander into a strip club and find yourself at a tiprail stuffing a dollar bill into the G-string or garter of one of the most beautiful and exquisite girls of porn.

I have had this Feature Dancer experience several times in my life now. Let me remember some of them in the next few posts.

I'll start with....the Queen of Lesbian Porn....in my next post. Stay tuned!

(and if you have an experience with a feature dancer, or a thought about them, hit the "comments" link and speak up and tell us all!)

The Stage, the Red Couch, and the Limo

Another hotel, another long night. Longing for the club, and the strip club experience. For dancer. Several come to mind. Beautiful, intelligent, friendly, and erotic girls. Semi-clad. And I long for them.

The virtual club experience will have to do. So I visit the Kappa Girls, my dancers, on their website. And the visual is so familar, so memorable.

Go see them here! Are you back? Okay...let's remember them.

The stage: The satellite stage actually, where the tiprail experience is up close and personal. Stripping on the first song, fully nude by the second. The pole, so close. The girls - the sexy, gorgeous girls - closer yet. Breasts in your face, and more if the mood strikes, for a dollar.

The red couch: The seat of pleasure where many memories have been made. Exclusively reserved for the half hour, touch-allowed, lapdance. Soft and welcoming, this couch, inviting surrender and discretion. Several girls have joined me there for our private and passionate time. Lovely toned young flesh on my lap. Cuddling, grinding, nuzzling, breathing. Artificial passion with a real effect. A memory created.

The Limo: Ahhhh, the limo. Extremely private time with Dancer rolling down the highway through the cornfields. My soft touch. Her ragged breath. Release, oh yes, but not mine. A memory created.

Thank you, ladies.

And I long for it again.....

Stripper Drama

Stripper drama. There is nothing like it in the workplace. It's my experience that drama occupies a large amount of stripper's attention in any strip club. Rarely does a dancer have a large group of friends. They may have one or two allies, but are feuding with the rest. Wow. That would be a hard environment to work in. I understand it, of course. As I've said before, I cannot imagine having to compete directly with your co-workers for sales - naked. It's an impossible situation that maximizes competitiveness and conflict. The claws come out.

If you haven't experienced the drama in a strip club, you can get a sense of it online from one of the stripper themed bulletin boards like StripClubList.com . Among other things, this site features message forums for strip clubs in every state where you can view or leave messages. Strippers use the forum to post their schedules for their regular customers or to answer questions. Customers post comments about the good or bad time they had or to ask if a girl still dances there or when she works. And constantly weaving in and out of those two purposes is the ever present drama. It can get nasty on there with customers being snarky about dancers or with girls attacking each othere. It's quite entertaining. Just go to the site, click on your state, and then click on a club you're familiar with. I can almost garauntee you there will be drama within any twenty posts or so. Try it.

And in all of it's forms, the drama is all about one thing - money. Who's "making bank", and how are they doing it. Are they doing it legitimately because they are sexy or have great personalities or give great lapdances? Or are they cheating by giving "extras" during a private dance?

Let me say two things about my take on drama:

First, the drama has nothing to do with my experience in the club. I see it. I understand it. I sympathize with the dancers who are experiencing it. But, overall I don't care about it and I don't get drawn into it. I don't care who's feuding with who. It certainly is not going to affect which dancers that I spend time with or choose to get private dancers from, at least not in a negative way. I'm in the club to enjoy myself on my terms and I will get dances from anyone I choose.

Here's a scenario I've been in before - I will ocassionally make the mistake of talking to one dancer about my experiences with another dancer and, if it's a girl she's having conflict with, she'll be puzzled by why I would want to get a dance from the other girl. Because she's sexy to me, that's why. I don't care about the offline catfights.

Second, on the topic of extras. What are extras? Extras are when a dancer will break the rules and perform overtly sexual acts in the privacy of the lapdance for increased tips or to increase traffic. Handjobs. Blowjobs. Outright fucking. Those are extras. Personally, I've only had the topic of extras come up twice in twenty plus years of getting lapdances. The most obvious is the "private party" that was suggested during a dance and that I wrote about in "Multiple Screaming Orgasms" (Jan 31, 2004). The second was much more subtle and brief, when a sexy dancer that I liked unexpectedly unzipped my pants during a VIP extended lapdance. She reached in and pulled out my member for a little extra attention, shielding me from sight by the attendant with her hair. It was mild and brief and completely unexpected. I didn't ask her to do it, and she didn't ask for any money. It was a brief exchange and it passed.

The thing about extras and dancers is this: If a dancer is talking with you at a table and the topic of drama comes up, as it often does, dancer will often warn you away from the "nasty" girls who are rumored to do extras. She will recount the evidence against the nasty girl - who saw what happen. And she will expect you to be repulsed by this news and steer clear of the nasty girl. This, to me, is evidence that even savvy professional business girls don't truly understand how men think.

Really, think about it. I'm sitting in the sexually charged environment of a strip club. I'm talking to one sexy girl and am completely aware of all of the other sexy girls in the club - most of whom I also want to be with. I'm thinking of buying a lapdance. You point to an incredibly beauty and tell me "stay away from her, she gives extras!", expecting me to be repulsed and now avoid the nasty girl. In actuality my next thought, accompanied by a state of arousal, is: "I should immediately leave this table and go get a dance from the other girl". Really. I'm a man. It's how we're wired. It's how we think.

So, on with the drama. I can't stop it, and it can't stop me. Just keep asking me "Do you want a dance?" That's all I came here for.

Elegance in the Lapdance

"Hey handsome, come over here", I heard her voice say off to my right from one of the seats at the bar. I had just arrived and was making my way across the club. She stopped me in my tracks.

It was my Lovely Dancer and I hadn't seen her in a while. I almost didn't recognize her at first. It had been a while since we had spent time together, and I didn't know if she would be working this shift or not. I wasn't particularly looking for her, but I was instantly glad she had spotted me. I love that familiar moment of recognition.

She was stunning, as usual. But more so and different. She had changed her hairstyle, again, and it suited her well. Short and styled in a way that framed her lovely face well. And as we found a table and sat I was entranced again by that lovely profile. She is an exquisitely beautiful young woman. She was as fit as I've seen her and sexy in a new outfit - a clingy dress material with large areas cut out revealing her delicious smooth skin. Elegant. Exquisite. A total package. And she sought me out. I bought her a drink and we settled in - her with a smoke and me with a steady gaze. She reached out for my hand and traced slow circles in my palm as we reconnected.

Drama was on her mind. Drama that I could not heal, but could only let her talk it out. Listening to her. Enjoying just being with her.

I joined her at the tiprail for her stage set. Just me and her in our own special rythm on stage. Dancer moved slowly and elegantly. Almost above it all, but smoldering and sexy in that new dress. Slow hip circles, eyes closed, building the heat just for me. With no one else at the stage, Dancer focused all of her eroticism on me. Slowly disrobing. Turning and bending, displaying that lovely ass in a sensous tease. Distant lovers playing a role. The Dancer. The watcher. Arousing. The second song was all mine, personal attention. Dancer dispensed with the stage act and draped her naked body along the tiprail platform in front of me. Naked small talk, up close and very personal. As surreal as it gets. Laying on her side, playing with my tie, absorbing my desire for her.

And we danced our usual erotic lapdance. Private, comfortable, touch-allowed. One song of forgettable music but unforgettable embrace. We're comfortable with each other so dancer dispenses with the routine. Standing away from me she disrobes. I gaze at her nakedness and smile as she approaches me. Dancer settles into my lap straddling me and puts her arms around me. A delightful, lingering hug, as we reconnect. Unhurried. Friendly. Erotic. She nuzzles along my jawline and presents her neck to me to nuzzle as well. I love the feel of her and her weight on my lap. It's reassuring and pleasant. And erotic. But not yet passionate. Dancer leans back away from me giving me space, allowing my touch. And slowly, softly, with just my fingertips I explore. Respectfully and legally I touch. Continuous touch in motion. Touching her face and her cheek. Down her neck to her shoulders. Across her back. Slowly sofly along her outstretched arms around my neck and back. Down her shoulder blades, tracing the muscles rippling her back. Along her hips and outer thighs. Only the fingertips. Softly. Teasingly. Continous. Playing with her. Learning her. Teasing her in return. And back to her delicious and incredibly soft derriere. Cupping her there, softly but firmly - not demanding but appreciating - and pulling her to me. Tracing her. Feeling her. Skin to naked skin. Into the headspace. As her breath grows ragged she whispers softly, hotly, into my ear - "You have such a soft touch". "You are so delicious to touch", I reply with equally ragged breath. And we smile and we finish. One song. Building passion. Worth it.

I have trouble walking, for obvious reasons, as she esorts me to the door and I say goodnight to my Lovely Dancer. Thank you, baby, once again.

...and She Looked so Innocent!

A topless cafe. That was a new one on me.

I had flown in on a business trip. Heading down the interstate, pushing my rental car, heading for an appointment in a city I had never been too. Midday, getting hungry. Suddenly, I see a brightly colored billboard advertising a topless cafe. And then another. And then another. What the heck, I could use a burger before my meeting. So I hit the advertised exit and there it is, all by it's lonesome out in the middle of nowhere.

It's a shack, really, and I probably wouldn't have ventured in if it had been nighttime. Semis in the parking lot. A small lunchtime crowd. Inside I find three areas blending in on top of each other: a cafe with tables and menus, an adult store with videos and toys, and a stripper stage and a small curtained area for private dancers.

It was out of character for me, I know, but I didn't really pay much attention to the stage or the strippers. I needed to have a quick lunch and get back on the road and I was thinking about the details of the meeting coming up. There seemed to be 3 or 4 modestly pretty girls rotating through a stage set, with no one actually tipping. I choked down a burger, poked my head into the adult toys area briefly (way overpriced, no sale!), and headed for the cashier to pay.

I was intercepted on the way to the counter by a very pretty and very young dancer. She was eighteen or so, maybe, very cute with minimal makeup on. She looked schoolgirl fresh scrubbed, not stripper dolled up. The only give away was the G-string, bra, and high heels attire. Dancer had beautiful long dark hair, a nice tanned figure, and an attractive inviting smile. In a word, I would describe her as "sweet".

"So, are you ready for a private dance?", dancer asked me in a sweet southern drawl.

"Thank you for offering, but no", I replied. "I have to get down the road."

"Are you sure?" she said smiling. "I could tie you up and smack you around some."

Not my thing, but it made my day anyway. I declined again, and I was out.

Thank you anyway, sweet dancer.

Spank Thanks

I wanted to say thank you to the Spanking Blog for excerpting my post about strippers spanking customers called Babes Wielding Belts. I can tell you that I still have a distinctive memory of a sexy stripper spanking a sexy blonde birthday girl on the night in question. Visually delicious.

Spanking Blog is now one of my kinkier links on my sidebar, and (if you're not squeamish) I encourage you to check them out. Ouch.

They also commented on my trauma of having deleted my original blog, calling this common self-inflicted mistake an act of "massive internet vandalism". My bad. I probably deserve a spanking!

Oh, to be Peter Brady

I was watching the season premiere of "The Surreal Life" on VH1 last night. (Yes, I waste too much time on reality TV). One of the housemates this year is Christopher Knight, a.k.a. Peter Brady of the Brady Bunch. At the end of the show they were showing highlights from the coming season, including a trip to a strip club where Christopher was enjoying himself.

"Strippers love me", Christopher/Peter said with a smile.

Oh, to be Peter Brady in a strip club. I'm guessing he's right and that he gets major attention from the 20 and 30 somethings who grew up on Brady Bunch reruns. Good for him.

What would it be like to be a celebrity in a strip club? Would that be great - getting extra attention from the dancers? Or does it have a risky downside - that you can never go there anonymously and just have a quiet good time? I'm guessing that the good outweighs the downside.

Does anyone have any direct experience with celebrities in a strip club that you can weigh in on here? Come on, dish it up!

Terri's Tantalizing Strip Tease

One of my less savory activities during holiday vacation time involved slumming through the wasteland that is weekday daytime television. And for a guy, the pinnacle of slumming is......Oprah. Now, mind you, I didn't even specifically tune in to watch her, I got sucked into a Dr. Phil show as the lead in, and was too far into couch potato mode to change the channel. But the teaser for Oprah kept me hooked anyway. The guests announced in the teaser were none other than the Desperate Housewives themselves - all there for their first interview together. I don't actually watch that show.....okay, who am I kidding. I have all of the episodes on videotape. How could I not? They're all gorgeous, all five of them including Nicolette Sheridan, and the show is complete eye candy.

The teaser for the show showed the sublimely sexy Terri Hatcher demonstrating a strip tease for Oprah. Terri, as we all know, is the harried 40-something divorcee on the show and is still in smoking-hot form. Hot enough to be the cover girl on this month's FHM magazine - prominently featured on hundreds of airport bookstore magazine racks, trust me. I happened to have seen Terri demonstrate stripping on Howard Stern's show before, so I knew it would be hot. I quickly slapped a tape in the VCR and settled back on the couch to watch.

The reason that an A-list TV celebrity like Terri Hatcher is asked by an Oprah to demonstrate a strip tease is that Terri is a practioner of a stripper-cize fitness routine. According to Terri, she goes to class at least twice a week for an hour and a half: one hour for isometric excercises based on stripper moves and 1/2 hour to learn an actual stripper routine, stripper shoes and all! It's an all female class and they work out in a room with no mirrors. They're not trying to turn anyone else on, Terri said, only themselves. It's female empowerment, with a cardio twist. They do, she said, rotate through the chair in the last 1/2 hour and practice giving each other lapdances. (pausing for visual picture.............got it. moving on.)

So, Terri gleefully demonstrated all of this for Oprah on her set. She wasn't in stripper garb - just tight jeans and a top. But it was sexy. Very, very sexy. Terri moved through some poses: on the floor on her back for "the flirt" with her legs raised and crossing into an open vee position, over onto her stomach and slowly up on all fours for "the cat", a slow and sexy transition through an open crouch into a standing position, ending with a slow rotation around her hips with hands caressing up along her sides and breasts up to her head. Oprah's audience was squealing with delight and applause.

An artful demonstrtion of the tease if I ever saw one. Terri clearly gets it in a way that a lot of actual strippers don't ever achieve. It wasn't just that she was perfect and extremely sexy in her slow and fluid movements. No, that was very nice but that wasn't all. It was her obvious joy in doing it. She radiated, with attractive smiles and laughter, and was really taking pleasure in her movements just for herself. And that is extremely sexy.

I'm guessing I'll watch that tape again. Thank you, Ms. Hatcher. Well done. You're making all of us 40-somethings proud. And horny.

Finally, I was rewinding Terri's tantalizing strip tease in my mind this week as I was staring vacantly out of an airplane window at the cloud cover and this thought occurred to me: I wonder if Terri has wanted to take (or actually has taken) the routines that she's learned out into a real club? On a real stage, with a real pole, surrounded by real men, for real dollars. It would be hard for her to do it in L.A. What if she went out into some anonymous club in the hinterlands of the midwest and masqueraded as a house dancer for a night? Some anonymous Star or Dakota or Angel or Heaven? Just a thought. Terri - are you out there? I could recommend some clubs for you. :)

Unhurried

A reader, forbonzio, left this comment on my last post:

"very nice. i love how everything kind of moves patiently when you write about your night. when im in a club it seems so up pace and hurried even. thank you for giving the thought to slow it all down."

You’re welcome, forbonzio. Always glad to help.

I am, in fact, an unhurried man in the strip club and apparently in my writing as well.

Forbonzio is right. Being unhurried is not typical in the club. It’s antithetical to being a man in that environment. The whole environment is “up pace”. The flashing colored lights. The thumping dance music. The DJ constantly exhorting you to get one of the ladies up for a dance. ("Get some ass in your face" in a rowdy club) The sexy semi-clad young girls dancing erotically on stage. Even the waitresses in skimpy outfits. It’s a virtual naked candy store for us visually wired men. The testosterone is raging and you just want to take it all in quickly and experience all of the girls that you can before the night gets away from you. I understand all of that.

Yet, I’m unhurried.

Regulars, like myself, are the most likely to be unhurried. I’ve been to enough strip clubs in my life that it’s not novel any more. Exciting. Intoxicating. But not novel. I know how my night is going to go and what my experience is going to be like. That gives me the confidence to be patient. I seek a pleasurable experience in a strip club, and I know how to find a pleasurable experience there. I can wait for the right experience with the right dancer to develop.

Also, I always go to the club alone. I’m not there with a bachelor party that has a certain pacing and rhythm. I’m not there with a group of drunk guys with everyone having different needs and agendas. I’m alone and I have the whole night to spend if I want to or need to. My schedule. My agenda. And my agenda is tactile, sensual pleasure with one or more beautiful ladies and a visual experience that will be memorable.

Unhurried.

I’ve also learned one important and immutable fact about a strip club experience that helps me tremendously to be patient. Here it is, free of charge:

I’m not going to get off.

No orgasm. I’m not here to get laid, and it’s not for sale here even if I was – in most cases. I can buy all of the lapdances that I want, and I’m not going to get off. Therefore, my goal is not – to get off. Ever. Understanding that simple and obvious fact allows me to be patient. I totally understand the transaction that’s taking place. Yes, it’s simulated sex that’s on sale. I imagine that for most guys the understanding that it’s simulated escapes them momentarily in a instant of insanity when the blood leaves our brain and goes elsewhere with a naked sexy girl physically on our lap. The hope of getting off settles in and all pretense of patience vanishes. I’m past that, however, because I understand the immutable fact – I’m not going to get off. In fact, I’m not even that worried about whether or not I get an erection during a lapdance, though I almost always do. It’s an afterthought really. I’m not there to experience a sexy stripper with my cock, but with my senses. Sight certainly. And the sound of her voice and sometimes moaning. Smell, that incredible stripper smell.Touch,when it’s allowed. And, suprisingly, on rare ocassion, the taste of her lips or neck. Sensual in it's fullest meaning.

And so I’m unhurried.

In my experience, the dancers recognize my patience. My confidence. My gentlemanly state of relaxation. And, in many of my experiences, they appreciate it and feel safe because of it. And we both benefit from the trust that quickly develops, as dancer lets down her guard and steps out of her routine and into the headspace of a shared sensuality and a building passion. Dancer can let herself go and “be” with me without repercussion. And we experience each other. The delicious weight of her pressing into my lap. The warmth of her flesh against me. The smell of her perfume filling my nostrils. The soft caress of her cheek against my cheek. The tease of the almost kiss. My trained fingertips safely caressing her, in constant contact with her soft young skin. Intimate positions and shared passion. And often our cash transaction commercial lapdance is almost the foreplay of lovers.

Unhurried.

Patience in the strip club and in the lapdance is earned, as it is in the bedroom. It’s an acquired skill of an attentive lover. I have over the years consciously become a patient lover. As I’ve said here before, I have had a sufficient number of orgasms in my life. I’m in no rush to get to another one. The pleasure is in the experience together. Oh, I have my moments where I just want to hit and hit it hard and demanding. Rarely though. More often I want to linger and to please. It’s not a submissive thing. It’s my dominant way. I control the pace, and I want a sensual and tactile experience.

That’s my way in the club as well. I control the transaction. And my way is unhurried.

Two Quickies

Two beautiful brunettes changed my mind.

I had stopped into the club on a whim one night on the road home at the tailend of a long and difficult business trip. No plans to stay and linger or even to get any dances. Just a pause for a beer and a hello or two. I thought I'd probably spend a half hour or so at the tip-rail and catch the stage show of a few dancers.

The condition of the club almost shortened even those plans. The club had been under slow renovation for a while, but now it was almost full stop to reconstruct the stage. Bummer. Almost, but not quite, full stop. There was one dimly lit satellite stage going with limited opportunity to sit at the tip-rail. Surprisingly, the club was packed and it was hard to get a seat in the main area. There were a lot of guys sitting at tables drinking and talking. Quite a few civilian girls sprinkled throughout. Very few dancers. On the fly I altered my plans - drain the beer quickly and get back on the road.

And then the first brunette changed my plans.

The strip club is the only place in the world that certain events are likely to happen to you. One of those events is having a gorgeous semi-nude perfect stranger walk over to your table and sit on your lap. I love that. Although, I almost always know it's going to cost me money because I can't turn down a lapdance with a lovely girl who has taken the approach of sitting down right on my lap.

Dancer was new to me and very lovely. Very young, maybe nineteen or so and very lithe. Long straight dark hair cascading over her shoulders. G-string and a top. Pert breasts right there for my viewing. Really quite a pretty girl.

Dancer didn't sit on me so much as she reclined on me, as if I were a reclining deck chair. She wasn't aggressive. She just settled in and relaxed as if we had all of the time in the world. And she was warm. Deliciously warm against me. It was all I could think about, her warmth, and it was very pleasant indeed. A variation on the Girlfriend Experience (GFE), her relaxing with me. And we talked. Small talk of no importance about the upcoming holidays and her travel plans. "Alone", I asked? "No, with my boyfriend", she replied. Lucky guy. I held her gaze as we talked and I basked in her warmth. I cannot describe how pleasant, how erotic, her warm body felt against me. And I quietly forgot about the beer, and the stage, and our surroundings. My universe for that moment was her warmth. Very nice.

"Would you like a dance", she asked? I believe I would. And we had a pleasant one-song private dance together. I settled back - relaxed and undemanding. Dancer moved over me gently gently, unhurried. Three positions. Facing away from me - slow circles of her delightful derriere over my lap with gentle arousing friction. Facing me straddling my lap with her cheek close to mine in an frozen almost-kiss. And across my lap on all fours, on display for me, showing me the graceful flow from her shoulders down her back to that shapely young ass. Delightful. It was very difficult to abide by the "no-touch" rule, as my fingers were lusting. But I enjoyed our moment. Very hot. We lingered for the payout as she dressed, sated in our short time. "Your boyfriend is a very lucky man", I offered. A pleased smile crossed her face. And we parted.

A short rest room break and it was time to go, I thought.

And then a second brunette changed my plans.

I heard the DJ call her name for the stage and I froze. All stop. It was Dancer N of the "Girl-on-Girl Show" (12/24/03). One of my favorites and a true star of the club. I must stay for her stage set.

Dancer is a petite bronzed beauty. The total package. Unobtainable in life - very obtainable in the club. She is amazing head to toe. Luxurious straight black hair falling down her back. Tanned porcelain skinned beauty with a megawatt smile. Dancer is so petite with small teacup breasts and a slender waist and long beautiful legs. Breathtaking. Awe inspiring. And talented to boot.

Dancer is a virtuoso on the pole dance. She owns the small stage, especially this small stage that she's operating on tonight. She is fluid and graceful as she climbs to the top of the pole and and spirals back down upsidedown with her legs holding the pole. She gets applause from the group from that move. And it's time to start getting tips.

I'm the first to the tip-rail with my dollar on the rail. Dancer comes to me, smiling that beautiful smile, and takes time to play with me to build the excitement for the crowd. Not the quick brush off here. She wants to play. Dancer comes over to me, removing her g-string as she approaches revealing a thin vertical landing strip of smooth dark pubic hair. Everything else, of course, is shaved clean and smooth. And there's more. Dancer has a ring piercing through her clitoral hood. She tugs on the ring and shows it to me and then notices my glasses perched up on my head. Playtime. Slowly and teasingly Dancer removed my glasses from my head and lowers them. Is she going to rub them on her, I wonder? Better. She carefully slides one of the sidepieces through the ring and lets my glasses hang by her piercing! Wow. Tugging visibly on her lips. And she leaves them there while she slowly leans forward and cradles me into the soft skin of her breasts. Heaven. Beautiful, soft, and she smells so delicious. And the moment ends. Dancer slowly removes and replaces my glasses as she thanks me and then moves on to playfully molest the guy-girl couple on my right who have laid out several dollar bills. That was quite a show.

Two quickies. Two beautiful brunettes who changed my plans. Worth the time and money.

Thank you, ladies.

DanceFan's Back!

Happy New Year to all!

This blog is a second life - a reconstituted blog following the untimely demise of my original. After a year of writing SCM, my original blog, I made a decision to pull the plug and deleted the blog entirely. My reason - to spend more time on family issues that needed my attention.

Two months later, I'm back. Why? 3 reasons:

1. The family issues have stabilized. I've concluded that I can pay attention to family when I'm home and to the blog when I travel.

2. I missed the blog. It was an essential part of me that I ripped out too suddenly.

3. I discovered that someone stepped in and assumed the name of my original blog and parts of it's identity, including my blogroll. I had assumed that my deleted blog would just disappear from the blogosphere. I was wrong. My mistake. The new site owner is apparently a bisexual pedophile and I was horrified at the content. I don't recommend that you read it and if you had a link to it you should kill it. I don't know if the pervert thought that taking the name of my blog was a tribute to me in some strange way. What's more likely is that he swooped in an was counting on built-in-traffic. I wish him a quick demise.

To my former readers: I apologize for my inelegant departure and for any grief to your sites that the new owner of my old blog name may cause with links. I hope you find me here and will re-link to me. That may be hoping to much.

Anyway, I'm back in.

It took some doing, but the blog is back up with the original posts intact. I did lose some in the transfer. I had to kill my blogroll (so the new guy would lose it) and rebuild it. I also lost all of my original comments from all of my web friends and critics. That's the biggest loss.

So, disruptions and regrets aside - let's get back to tributes to lovely strippers.