A Beautiful Companion

After many nights in my life of sitting alone in strip clubs , albeit enjoying myself, and watching couples together in a club I must admit that I have wondered something:

What would it be like to share a night in a club with a pretty girl who wanted to be there? A woman who would enjoy being there to be with the dancers as I did? What would that be like?

So, I took a stab at answering that question. And now I know, at least partially.

How do I know?

I took a risk. On a whim, I posted a message on an internet meet-up site. I was looking, I said, for a "cute girl companion for a night a strip club. Tipping at the stage. A private dance or two for each of us. That's all."

I had no takers that night. But, to my pleasant suprise, I got an email two days later offering to accompany me to a club the next time I was in town, for a night at a club looking at pretty girls. Wow.

A few email exchanges later, including a discussion of how to meet up somewhere first outside of the club, and the night came. I arrived in town early, did some shopping for necessities, and showered and dressed for the evening. Soon enough, I found myself waiting, slightly nervously, inside a restaurant for my companion. Scanning the entrants for the clothes that she had indicated that she would be wearing - khaki pants and a short sleeved black shirt.

A thousand thoughts as I waited.. Was it safe to do this? Would I have any idea how to behave, how to meet a perfect stranger in a situation like this? Would I be even remotely interesting company for her? And, as you would expect, how would the night end?

As she walked through the door - this unexpectedly beautiful girl - the questions vanished and I relaxed. The night would be whatever the night would be. I would just enjoy her company for the evening. My new companion.

I would say she was pretty, but beautiful is more apt - a description of her that I would hear from several dancers throughout the evening. She was much younger than me, but mature in her youth and graceful. She was elegant in hairstyle and dress. Confident in her stride. Beautiful.

By way of introduction, we had a simple meal together. The meal passed by easily enough, but it wasn't about the meal. It was about meeting. About holding a conversation. About establishing a comfort level. I picked at my food and I talked too much about myself and I probably did all of those wrong things. But by the end of the meal I was comfortable with her and with the odd realization that this was not a date, but a shared experience in the age of the internet. My beautiful new friend was my companion for the evening in the club.

Off we went to a predetermined nearby club, traveling separately and arriving together. We found a table and settled in to check out the vibe of the early evening crowd. Slow and hushed.

She was unhurried, my new friend. Content to look openly at the gorgeous semi-naked dancers around us. She had been to clubs before, she told me, and it had taken her time to realize that it was okay for her to look. Now, she was there to look. This beautiful girl enjoyed the look of other beautiful girls. What's not to like about that?

We shared the evening, she and I.

At our table. Observing the club. People watching. Learning about each other - about music and books and travel. Talking about trivia. Reliving the 70's and the 80's throught the music in the club. Discussing and admiring the dancers onstage together - this one's long hair, that one's breasts. Discussing the dynamics of a couple in the club, and how dancers were reacting to us.

I was asking too many questions and talking too much about strip clubs and too much about myself. But also trying to draw her out.

"Have you met people before online", I asked.

"I have", she said. "You can never quite tell what the chemistry will be like when you meet. Sometimes you just irritate each other."

Not this time. Not for me anyway. She was quiet and reserved, with flashes and moments of spark. Interesting. Beautiful. Certainly not irritating.

At the couches. Sharing a dancer in separate private dances. Sensous dances in the VIP with a sexy red dress and long black hair. First me. Then my companion. Hot, for me at least, with my arousal obvious to Dancer. "Your wife is very beautiful and she's so trusting to let you come back her by yourself", said dancer. "She's a friend", I said. "We're just enjoying a night together in the club." Dancer was very intrigued.

At the tiprail. Moving from stage to stage, getting boobs in our faces for a dollar apiece. My new friend, my beautiful companion, really enjoying this part. Relishing the contact. The sexual touch of feminine skin. The scent of a dancer. She was a sight to behold. She didn't whoop it up or grab at the dancers. She just went inside herself and reveled in the touch of their skin on her face. Very sexy.

And so, I experienced my night in the club in the company of a beautiful girl. And I'm glad I did.

How did it end?

Well, I am a guy. Did I have thoughts of passion? Did I long to lean her up against a wall in the club after a shared private dance and kissing her deeply and passionately? This intelligent and adventerous pretty girl, so near to me? Did I desire making out with her in the parking lot? Did I imagine the possibility of the night ending back in my hotel room? Did I have thoughts of the evening being more? Of intense stranger sex? Of me enjoying her beauty and her youth? Of her experiencing the skilled pleasure that a lover ten years her senior is capable of delivering? I am a man, so of course I did.

Especially the kissing part.

But, I'm also a gentleman that wasn't what I had asked for in my internet post. The evening was enjoyable for what it was. Nothing more. She didn't offer more. I didn't ask for more. I wouldn't even know how.

So, I walked her to her car and said thank you.

Thank you, my new friend - my beautiful companion - for giving me this experience.

Chances Are....

...that any night I'm on the road on business, I may find myself in the company of beautiful semi-naked women. In this case, four very beautiful and very different semi-naked young girls.

I made it to a club earlier in the evening than usual for me. Early enough that the club had just opened for the night. I found 4 dancers and 3 customers when I walked in. Good odds for getting a dance from the girl of my choice. It would be harder later when the club filled up, so now was the time.

I spent the first hour or so watching the stage shows of the four girls and I quickly decided that I wanted at least one dance from each of them.

Foxy took the stage first. Beautiful, black, and dancing with herself. For herself. Foxy was entranced with her image in the mirrors opposite the stage. She danced seemingly unaware of the men admiring her from the tables. She turned this way and that, preening for the mirrors. Her aloofness, her attitude, was strangely appealing.

Casey chose that time to sit with me, but not for long. In the space of a minute we were off for a dance. Casey was a beautiful hardbody blonde. Very pretty. And very energetic in the dance with a particularly nice rhythm of kneeling between my knees and slowly grinding her breasts in slow circles on my lap. Very effective.

Casey rejoined me at my table as we watched Danielle take the stage. Casey was preoccupied, so there wasn't much chat at the table. It was her first night in the club as it turned out and she was nervous. I don't see obvious nervousness from dancers often, and it was kind of cute. I tried to help her out by sending her to the stage to tip Danielle for me. "I can do that?" she asked. "Yes, dear. You can do that", I assured her. "I just sit down and she'll come to me?", she asked as she moved forward. Yes. Oh, yes. Very erotic, those two. And Casey moved on to get ready to go onstage.

Danielle on stage was a real treat. I use the word dancer a lot when I'm talking about strippers on stage when the word stripper is more appropriate and descriptive. Not in Danielle's case. From the moment she finished washing down the brass pole she was dancing. Not in the frenetic phony sense of Hollywood's take on strippers. Not in the "passing time until someone tips me" way of most strippers on stage. But really dancing. More like a Laker Girl in a sexy stripper dress. Danielle was probably the best actual dancer that I've ever seen onstage.

Danielle was tall and beautiful and extremely shapely. She must get told every evening how much she looks like Kate Beckinsale. Maybe a little cuter, though. And with a perkier smile. She really seemed to be enjoying the close contact tipping dance at the tiprail. She was all sex when she climbed down off the stage to straddle mount the tipper backwards, leaning forward on the stage and shaking her backside into him in a doggy style lapdance at the stage. Very hot. I knew I had to get a dance from her - which turned out to be harder than I thought.

In the meantime, I turned my attention to Raven. A voluptous and sultry girl with wavy auburn hair and plenty of ink. I was the only one at the tiprail for Raven, and she spent some time with me there. First, facing away on all fours on the stage - displaying that lovely backside for me up close and personal. Then laying on her back, pulling me head into her with my head clamped between her thighs. Finally leaving the stage to sit on my lap, straddling me and settling into me as she pulled my face into her ample breasts and then nuzzled my cheek. Wow. That was worth the tip.

Raven sat and talked with me. She drank with me. She told stories with me. And then we danced. Two delicious private dances. Sultry and sensous dances, with slow close contact. Arousing dances, with my appreciation obvious. It was hard to stop at two. But we parted and she returned to the growing crowd.

I took a seat at a different table to enjoy Danielle on stage again. What an incredible dancer. Fluid and graceful and completely tuned in to the music. Sexy in the sleek dress. Friendly with the customers lining the railing. Very nice.

My observations were short lived, as Foxy made her way past my table. "You're coming to dance for me, I hope", I said with a smile. And she was. And we danced - one dance in private. The aloofness disappeared and I discovered that Foxy was a really sweet girl. Still new in the club and a little shy. But nice. And very pretty. And she smelled delicious. A short sexy dance and I was back out on the floor.

I took a different table, my final table, very far from the stage. Almost out of the door. I was thinking of heading that way when an angel, Danielle, appeared out of nowhere to stop at my table. "Were you still wanting a dance?". Oh yes. I wouldn't miss it.

She had a beautiful smile, is what I remember most of that private dance. Beautiful, no doubt. Sexy, absolutely with a killer body and soft porcelain skin. But her smile was luminous and engaging and so, so close to me as we sat entwined on the couch waiting for a song. That beautiful smile. And I was privileged to have this beautiful girl with me for a song

Thank you ladies. Casey and Foxy and Raven and Danielle. I'll remember you all.

And, chances are....I'll be back.

Small Club Vibe

It was a small club in an out of the way city on another road trip.

You never know what kind of evening you're going to have in a small club. They're not standardized. They're more like local watering holes, where everyone knows everyone, than the major strip clubs are.

But I had a nice evening in this particular small club. It had an easy, laid back vibe. Low cost. Pretty girls. What more could you want?

One stage, more like a pit actually, that the girls rotated through. Not a lot of tipping going on at the stage itself. So little in fact, that the girls would go around the club after leaving the stage asking the seated patrons for a $1 tip each. Interesting practice.

Low pressure for dances. Most of the dancers were seated with a prospect, as opposed to wandering through the club asking "Do you want a dance?". I don't know if they were with regulars or not. Just that they all spent a lot of time seated.

So, I had my choice of several girls. I just had to indicate to them that I wanted a dance - which turned out to be harder than I thought.

Very small VIP area. Just a small walled off portion of the main room with two small couches. No touch - keep your hands at your sides, gentleman. No problem. I just want some light contact and to watch these pretty girls dance.

Angela first. A beautiful dancer who I met at the stage. Dancer was into herself, tuning out the group. Slow sensual dance with her eyes on the mirrors surrounding herself. Tuning us out. Angela was a beautiful girl. Tall and slender with nice legs and an thin, angular ass. Beautiful. Shoulder length feathered hair, brown with highlights. Beautiful thin lips and a delightful smile.

And we danced. Two songs for $20. No touch, but very sensual. It was very arousing. Very arousing, and my appreciation of her beauty and talents was visible. A nice routine through several poses. And it ended too soon.

I settled back at my table to make my next choice. There were at least four sexy dancers yet to meet. Any of the four would make a good choice. But they make it hard to meet them by staying seated with their prospects.

One stands out from the group. I see her across the room playing pool with her guy. Striking in high boots and tight half tap pant lingerie. Long brown hair. Very sexy muscular legs peeking out of the boots going into a shapely petite ass. Wow. She had a smoldering Aurora Snow porn star look to her. With an Eastern European quality thrown in.

I had to meet her, so I waited for a break. When she left her table briefly, I tipped the waitress to go ask her to sit with me. She did briefly, but then had to go onstage. After making the tipping rounds she was back to dance with me.

Phoenix was delightful. Petite and shy, looking everywhere around the VIP except at me. She did a practiced routine that was enjoyable and totally within bounds. This was a very young, and very sexy girl that I completely enjoyed a professional lapdance from.

I took a pause from the dancers to interact a little with the customers, not something I regularly do by any means. Sitting next to me on a couch against the wall was a couple that had come in late. I chatted with Mrs. while Mr. was getting a VIP dance or two. "Do you know the dancers?", asked her. Yes, they were in often enough to be like family in here. They had fun and shared the experience together. I thought she had a really good attitude about sharing this part of her husband's life. She had seen for herself that the dancers were working and weren't there to go home with their guy, so she was able to relax and enjoy it with him. And the dancers seemed to enjoy her. I'm glad I met her in there.

One final round before heading back to the hotel for the evening. I could have chosen another dancer for the variety aspect. But I went back to Angela. I figured she would be more relaxed in the dance the second time around because she knew me this time, and knew I behaved - so she could relax. She was back, with a new outfit on. Her third outfit of the evening that I had seen. I love that, when dancers take the time to change their look. I totally love that. She had a demure look this time with a pink top and a white ruffled tennis skirt. Very preppy. And it would come off nicely.

So we danced, again, Angela and I. Enjoyable again. Sexy again. Arousing again. An all around beautiful girl.

And on that note, with a wave to the couple I was out.

Angela and Phoenix and the Mrs. Thank you, ladies, for a nice evening.

Prayers for My Friend

I don't have any erotic stories or club fantasies or humorous observations on life tonight.

A friend, a reader and contributor to this silly little blog of mine, a virtual but cherished new friend, has suffered a devastating loss of a daughter this week. A senseless tragic loss of a dynamic young lady.

I am at a loss for words, and they would be inadequate if I had them. I've never met either of them in person, yet I am grief stricken for their circumstance.

So, instead, I'll ask this. If you are a reader here and you are a praying person - say several prayers for my friend this week. You don't need to know her name. God knows who she is. God Bless her and her family.

A Quintet of Beautiful and Sexy Women

As I said in my last post, I know what I'm buying when I enter a strip club. Not a fantasy. Not for me. Instead, a limited reality. I'm not paying for a girlfriend or a companion. I'm there for a limited reality of time and contact. Time to talk and to interact at the tiprail. Contact in the private dance. Simulated intimacy, to be sure. But a real experience nonetheless.

And sometimes what I'm buying is a really wonderful evening in the company of beautiful and sexy women.

Five of them, to be exact, on a memorable night.

More than that, if you count all of the beautiful strippers that entertained me at the tiprail with a dance and an intimate moment of contact for the tip.

But five in the private dance. Five beautiful and sexy women.

Sometimes it's a mistake to enter the club with a "type" in mind. It can be very limiting and you can miss an unexpected pleasurable experience. If you walk in thinking "blonde", then all you'll see is blonde and you'll miss out. Sometimes it's better to just be open to the diversity of women that a big club in a big city can offer.

Women are beautiful to me. Different body types and hair colors and attitudes. I see potential in them all. And on the memorable night, I was privileged to spend time with a diverse group of beautiful and sexy women. Five. Each different. Each beautiful. Each talented. Each a treasure. And each spending quality contact time with me on the red couches in the back in a limited reality.

Foxy - young and black and exotic. Exquisitely sexy. A shiffon miniskirt barely covering a slim and shapely derriere that I got to know in the private dance. Foxy was spirited and alive.

Heather - who looked like a certain movie star, but was quick to correct me that the movie star looked like her. Tall and lithe with long silky blonde tresses. Soft, soft skin. Skillful, natural, persistent moves. Delicious friction.

Mariah - a towering olive skinned beauty with slender hips and a long rich mane of gorgeous brown hair down to her ass. Working the hair on the stage - turned away from me on all fours, teasing a view of her thong, and then flipping that gorgeous hair down to cover her ass - peekaboo style. Skillful. Politely friendly in the private dance. Drawing me close to her and enveloping me in that mass of silky hair. Breathing together in that enclosed space, with her delicious weight on my lap. Unforgettable.

Raven - the beautiful Raven. An artistic soul in a delightful package. An exotic combination of Goth and Burlesque, though she bristled at "Goth". Not goth, but gothic in it's most romantic and elegant sense. Beautiful dark black hair with a tinge of red in the stage lights. Deep black lined eyes. Deep deep red lipstick. Elaborately fitted into a red and black corset with red satin ribbon stitched up the back. Black lace stockings reaching to mid thigh. Finished off with serious black boots to the tops of her calves. Raven had taken care with her outfit. Care to entertain. And care to make a connection with me, both at the stage and in the private dance. Half erotic and passionate. Half laughing and knowing and sharing. The beautiful Raven, a stripper in the old burlesque sense.

Marlena - a college girl pretty brunette. Slim and sexy in a tank top and white cotton panties. Enticing. Convincing. Sexy as hell. One of a kind. Wow.

All of them dancing with me. A little stripping. A little grinding. A little delicious friction. A little naughtiness. A lot of cheek nuzzling. Memorable.

And that was my wonderful evening in the club with the Quintet of Beautiful and Sexy Women.

Thank you, ladies. You're the best. And thank you Raven, for the connection.

I'll be back, I'm sure.

Buying a Limited Reality

I have to say that I'm intrigued this week by others commenting on the "fantasy" element of this blog. It's always interesting to see how other people see you.

Peter Throckmorton of Jane's Guide.com, in his review of this blog (rating: "Quality Original")which I greatly appreciated, said this:

"Throughout the entries he honors the dancers by putting them on unrealistic pedastals, and discusses at length the fantasy "GFE" [girl friend equivalent] one-sided experience that he creates for himself, for the price he pays for a dance. On the other hand, despite how much of what is here is pure fantasy, he does clearly speak the voice of the strip club customer, which is more thousands and thousands of men across the world than anyone would admit. It is easy to read the blog and sense his world as he sees it. There are a lot of blogs out there where current or former dancers speak their minds about their experiences - here's one from the guys' side."

Two uses of the word "fantasy" in that paragraph.

Joe Bloggs, in a recent comment answering a question from Michael Portnoy about whether or not a dancer may be selling me an illusion of friendship, said:

"Yes, but it doesn't matter does it? She's selling a fantasy, DanceFan is buying a fantasy, part of that fantasy is that he has a sexy friend. Good enough for me!"

Thanks for commenting, guys.

Interesting. Is the dancer selling a fantasy? Am I buying a fantasy?

I thought about those comments this week and I realized that I see it slightly differently.

I agree that the dancer is selling a fantasy. Customer after customer. Song after song. Night after night. She is selling. It's a transaction, absolutely.

I agree that some customers might be buying a fantasy.

I think, however, that I'm not. It's not a fantasy experience for me. Fantasy involves an illusion. In this case, the illusion would be that dancer is my girlfriend in some sense or is really "with" me in some sense. I don't have that illusion. I know exactly what the situation is.

I would say that what I'm buying in the strip club experience is a limited reality.

I have no illusions after 20 plus years of visiting strip clubs. I don't imagine that dancer is my girlfriend. I don't imagine that she has feelings for me, with rare exceptions with dancers that I have spent a lot of time with. I don't imagine a relationship at all.

I do believe that the two of us can have a real connection in this context, however, on ocassion. We can break through the routine for a moment and have a moment of experience together. When I talk about the GFE, girlfriend experience, I'm not focused on the girlfriend part but the experience part. A moment of real connection. A limited reality.

And I know exactly what I'm buying in the club all night: time, conversation, visual memories, and - most importantly - safe physical contact with a lovely young nude or semi-nude girl. Sensous contact in close quarters. Limited, of course, within the confines of the transaction, the rules, and my gentlemanly contact. A limited reality.

That's my view of what I'm buying.

Let's explore this further in my next post with a recent club experience....

Yeah Honey, It's For Me

You never know when life is going to jump up and remind you that you're getting old.

Like I need that.

So, I was out late on a Saturday night. I decide to slide into my local Walmart, out in a Midwestern cornfield. I don't need much. Some munchies and a new CD.

Mainly the CD.

I know what I want. Nelly. "Country Grammer". Pseudo rap, with a little smoother rhyme.

I find it. I find the munchies. I find a checkout stand. The line moves slower than I want and I notice an open lane next to me manned by a cute young girl in a pony tail. Nineteen or thereabouts. Definitely cute.

So, I put my items on the conveyor. The munchies. The CD.

Of course, the CD catches her eye.

She picks it up. She looks at the CD. She looks at me. She looks at the CD again. Then she cocks up an eyebrow and she asks me the question:

"This for you?".

"Yeah, it's for me", I answer. "I need some driving music."

"You got a fast car?", she asks.

"Yeah, but mostly I just drive a lot."

"Uh huh", she says skeptically as she bags my munchies.

What, I'm the only middle-aged white guy in the midwest that she's seen buying a Nelly CD?

I felt old.

Until I got in my car and cranked up the CD. Now, that's what I came for!

At least she was cute.

Two and One Fantasy

As I guy, I have the requisite number of threesome fantasies of the male-female-female (MFF) variety. A lot of situations that occur in a strip club play to those fantasies, as many of my posts here have attested.

I also tend to gravitate to those scenarios in my porn viewing, in the extremely rare situations when I'm viewing porn. (Wink, wink. Okay, not so rare.) As luck would have it, MFF threesomes are featured quite regularly in porn.

However, lately I've realized that is not quite true - at least in my rendition of porn watching. I realized that I don't view them as threesomes, but as two and one situations.

Not three.

Two and One.

I realized that unconsciously I rearrange the MFF fantasy in my head. I can do this because I always watch porn with the sound off, so I'm not encumbered by any actual "plot" details - if there are any. I rewrite at will.

I immediately pair up the guy with one of the girls - as "the couple".

Who is the second girl, in my rendition of MFF porn viewing?

The stripper that they brought home with them.

Works for me.

Thanks to Jane's Guide

Thank you to Jane's Guide (www.janesguide.com), for the "Quality Original" rating for this blog in their "New Reviews" section.

And hello to all the visitors from there.

Take time to read from the beginning. Join me as the ladies ask "Would you like a dance?"