A Sensusal Exhibition

She settled onto the couch, guided into place by Dancer.

I settled as well, opposite.

A dance not of three, but of two and one.

She - beautiful and interesting.

Dancer - sexy and confident.

I - delighted to be witness to the encounter.

She - eyes closed, head bowed, fingertips aware. Accepting of Dancer's touch and aware of my gaze - aroused.

I - aroused as well by the exhibition of sensual feminine contact.

A visual memory formed.

With her, in that moment, I did indeed win the lottery.

Thank you, ladies. A beautiful, feminine,sensual exhibition.

Assaulted

You may have noticed that I generally only write positive stories about my experiences with clubs and with strippers. That's just how I see things. The good and the great I remember. The poor and the bad I just shake off and forget.

But, there was one exceptionally bad experience with a stripper recently that I just have to describe.

It wasn't just a bad lapdance. It was an assault on my person. I think I could have called the cops and filed a complaint and gotten somewhere.

I was in a club, bored. It was at a lull between events.

The DJ had announced some $1 tableside dances, and all of the available dancers were circling the floor landing on guys for a portion of the song for a $1. I wasn't really up for it, but what the heck - it's a dollar. I can try out a couple of dancers and see if I'm interested in more.

Then Dancer descended on me. Literally.

I only had a minute or so to look at her before she pounced. Dancer was a mess. Physically and mentally, a mess. She had some crazy outfit on that looked like Miss Kitty night at the saloon. She had wild hair going every direction. And she had tattoos - many and awful. I generally like tattoos on a dancer - but not in this case. Really awful.

I knew from the first second that this was a mistake. But what the heck. It's only a portion of a song, after all. I can make it through. I thought.

Dancer had other ideas. She was determined to turn it into a $10 tableside dance whether I wanted to or not. Let's call it aggressive selling.

Speaking of aggressive - Dancer was in spades. I'm not sure if she was angry or deranged, but I'll put my money on both at the same time.

Dancer's concept of a lapdance was of the full contact type most commonly taught at a pro football training camp. Tackles. Grinding intended to erase my lap. Beating on my neck with shin bones. Bony knees and elbows pummeling me in a frantic contortionist routine.

Now I'm a big guy - 6'2" / 240 lbs. It takes some doing to shake me up. But Dancer achieved it.

I'm not sure how I came out of the "tableside dance" without broken bones. Bruised definitely, but not quite broken.

The funny part, if there was one, was Dancer's continuously running banter during the assault. "Do you want to come back to the lounge with me? I'm looking for someone to molest." Molest is right. I take her at her word. She was under the delusion that this was sexy. Coked up or deranged, I'm not sure.

The really funny part was that she found me again later. I had moved to a different part of the club and she found me again - only she didn't recognize me. She started the banter again. "I'm looking for someone to molest", she said earnestly. I just looked at her. You've got to be kidding me. I chased her away with the one surefire way to get a dancer to leave your table. I told her I was broke. Done. All my money spent. Finished. She said "bye" quickly and departed with mach speed - looking for the next guy to molest. Watch out guys.

Shaved - the Story of the Day

So, I was driving around this week doing my work thing. Long days in the car. Listening to the radio - my style.

AM radio. Talk radio. Newstalk radio. Yeah, I know - it's one of my quirks.

Driving and flipping channels to catch all my favorite talk show hosts. Hosts that most of you would not like. But, that's my thing too.

And then it happened.

Rush Limbaugh was holding court in the middle of the day, and I was half listening to the topics rotating by as I drove and worked. The war in Iraq. The protestor mom. The upcoming Supreme Court nomination hearings. Etc. Hours of it.

Then, out of the blue, the maha Rushie throws in a newspaper story - in the context of changes in our culture.

The story? All about how actress Eva Langoria awoke to her sexuality when she decided to shave her nether regions.

Eva Langoria, shaved.

I lost my ability to think straight for the rest of the day.

Eva Langoria, shaved.

I think I'll pause to imagine it again now....

She's Coming......

A porn starlett. A feature dancer. A deliciously sexy girl.

She's coming.

I've seen her in magazines. I've seen her on Howard Stern.

She's coming.

And now it's time to see her in the flesh. Emphasis on flesh.

I can't wait.

Anticipating.....

A Beautiful Companion: Our Second Outing

She met me again. My beautiful companion. For another outing to a strip club together.

Virtual strangers still. But "virtual" friends as well, having met through a post I placed on the internet asking for a cute girl to go to a club with me so that I would know what that was like. I've enjoyed that, twice now.

We drank together first, and shared an insight or two and a laugh or two. Cautious. Exploring. Unsure of where this might lead. Where might it lead if you take attraction and add alcohol and arousal?

We clubbed together. A predetermined club with a high possiblity of enjoying strippers and the club environment. Lots of pretty girls. Loose rules. Yeow.

A toast: "to arousal for arousal's sake".

Some watching, together. Some mutual admiration of some talented dancers.

A naked girl: a sexy, petite, cheerleader type brunette with a perfect slim body who had a penchant for walking around the club in only a thong. An attribute which thrilled my companion. We shared some time at the tiprail with naked girl, who laid companion out on the stage on her back and slowly and teasingly caressed her with her hands and her lips. Hot.

Some talking. Freeing talk about private things, shared between strangers. Exciting. I enjoyed the talk as much as I enjoyed taking in her beauty. Companion is quite simply a classically beautiful young woman. And it was my pleasure to draw her out in a discussion that she did not initiate, but willingly participated in.

Some partying. With two lovely dancers who joined us at our table. Another new experience for me. Sexy strippers drawn to the table by the couple dynamic, or simply by their fascination with my companion. For a short time, it was a party at our table.

As I bought them all drinks I realized that I was totally off of my game, awash in the disparate needs of three lovely ladies. Enjoying the unofficial and still-distant connection with companion. Aroused by the sexy stripper at my side who was endlessly and aggressively kneading my thigh. Entertained by the vivacious stripper on my other side who was a party unto herself.

And I danced, alone - unable to entice companion to participate - with both dancers in turn. Private dances. The last with companion seated on the couch next to me. A mental, not physical, experience.

Ultimately, I was a little off my game in the club as I had to take into consideration someone else's needs. Out of my comfort zone, as it were. Was she enjoying herself? Who, if any, was she attracted to? Did she want a private dance? By herself, or with me watching? What was she thinking as she sat next to me in my dance?

And we were out, separately, off into the night.

Thank you, my new friend, for helping me have a new experience.

To arousal, for arousal's sake.

I'm so Dirrrrrrty, Please.....Wash Me

Another road trip. Another hotel. Another dinner alone. With a twist, because I couldn't find my usual chain restaurant.

But the owl was there, beckoning me. I passed it once, twice, and succumbed on the third trip past the blazing orange eatery.

A so-so dinner, but then it's not known - at least to me - for it's food. Almost tasteless food actually, but that's beside the point. The attractive waitstaff is the point.

The gorgeous orange bottomed girls. (Strippers-in-training, as Brighton called them). Proudly dressed for my visual enjoyment. Cute and perky, with tight filled out tops, girlie sneakers with girlie socks bunched at the ankle. And that shimmering hosiery encasing those sexy calves and thighs - calling to my fingertips to caress that silky treasure. And those sexy swishing behinds passing back and forth between the tables. Visual paradise.

Ladies, if I may digress a moment, you are missing out on the visual treat. Not of the waitstaff, although you may enjoy that too, but within the customer base. A entire restaurant wall-to-wall bulging with horny guys. A veritable sausage factory. You'd have your pick. But, that's not my concern...so, back to my tale.

My meal passed quickly and unnoticeably and all to quickly.

But, I was left with two bonuses:

1. Key Lime pie. Delicious. I can never get enough of that.

2. A charity carwash outside the restaurant with off duty orange bottomed girls raising money for some charity or other.

Six lovely young ladies in bikini tops and jean skirts soaping and sudsing cars in all kinds of hot wet positions. Count me in.

I pulled my car in and let the show begin. Wow. Tight tanned bodies enthusiastically stroking my ride. Soaping and wiping and rubbing and bending. Emphasis on the rubbing. Oh, my.

Ironically, it's a rental car and I could care less if it was shiny or not. But, what the heck. It's for the kids.