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.