"Have We Met Before"

It wasn't the first time I heard the question that night. Not even the second. In a night of club hopping and serial lapdancing, it was in fact the third time in one night.

And at the end of a long work day and a long club night, the beautiful young lady sitting on the stage before me with her head cocked quizzically asked it for that third time: "Have we met before?"

A deep gaze into that beautiful face, the whisper of her name - "I'm Heather", and it clicked.

"Now that I think about it", I said cryptically, "I've not only met you before, but I've written about you before." (Here in a post titled "A Quintet of Beautiful and Sexy Women". Go read it again, it's worth it.)

There are some really beautiful girls dancing in strip clubs. Unbelievably pretty. Unbelievably shapely. Unbelievably sexy. And my intent was to meet several of them in one night. Not my usual pattern of a lot of dances with one girl. Different this time - serial lapdancing. I chose some repeat clubs to do it in, and as a result I met some new girls as well as several lovely dancers that I had met before.

First one club - urban and tough with touch allowed in the private dance. Not only allowed, but encouraged.

First up, a new girl. Far eastern and exotic. All bounce and energy, hopped up on multiple coffees. "Aren't you all gentlemanly", she said as she grabbed my hands and placed them on her booty. "Grab hold of some skin!".

Costume girl next, from my "Christmas Day for Dancer" post. My new friend that I had bought the naughty schoolgirl outfit for. "Have you worn it again? Did you bank with it?" I asked. Oh yeah, she told me. She was totally into costumes now. Not only had she spiced that one up with glasses and pigtails and a paddle, but she had bought new ones as well. She ran off to the dressing room to model one for me - a short black kimono with a red sash. Very hot. The girl looks awesome in any outfit, and I saw her in 4 different ones in the space of two hours. Plus a couch dance. Nice.

Then it was my Cameron Diaz lookalike from "Three in a Booth" (7/20/05). She slid into my booth again, same as before. This time she paused, looked at me, and asked "Have we met before". Some tiprail time and then off to the couches for two slow, gentle, erotic couch dances. She is really, really good at this.

Reluctantly I'm out, but I can't bring myself to call it an evening. So I'm off to the west side of town and a more upscale club, where I met the original quintet of beautiful and sexy dancers. Should I? It's getting late. But walking in I knew. Oh yeah. Beautiful dancers in abundance. Model beautiful. Hollywood beautiful. And some cute civilians. I'll stay.

Some tiprail time with several of the lovely ladies.

- the beautiful Mariah, she of the long brown hair. "Have we met before?", she asked me. Oh yes. It was my privilege. I certainly remember.

- a new girl. Sexy. Perky. willing to manhandle me at the rail for $1. Undressing me. Pulling me up close and scissoring her legs over my shoulders as she strategically rubbed her silk panty covered mound against the tip of my ski nose. "I knew my nose was shaped that way for a reason", I joked. I'm certain I could get her off with just the tip of my nose, and she's welcome to use me for that anytime.

And finally, in the early morning hours at the end of a long long night, the beautiful Heather.

I had seen her as soon as I came in, dancing on a satellite stage. She stood out, even in a room full of beautiful dancers. Elegant and radiant. Tasteful in a white skirt and top. Beauty in a league of her own. Wanting to go tip her, but not quite making it over to her stage. Watching her as she sat with a good customer. And finally, realizing as she took the stage again that I had one more chance.

Her question, after the tipping and the cradling in those delicious soft breasts and the recognition, was simple - "Would you like a dance?" Oh yes. Off we went to the back area and the couches and two sensual private dances. Close contact with a beautiful woman skilled in the dance. Gentlemanly no-touch dances. Contact. Heat. Exciting. Erotic, but to no obvious effect on my part. Most dancers expect that their private efforts will be greeted with an appropriate state of arousal. After the long night of serial lapdancing, and despite Dancer's expert ministrations, I wasn't like to be "up" to the challenge. But I was able, absolutely, to enjoy her for her. For her beauty. For her talent. For the simulated intimacy. Lovely.

There are many beautiful ladies dancing in strip clubs and I got to spend time with several in one night. Yes, I've met them before and it's likely that I will meet them again. Especially Heather.

Thank you ladies. I'll remember it.

Sunshine Flowerchild

A lot of things are reminding me of the 70's lately. Dancer included.

I saw her at the club where I saw the Porn Star and the Rock Star. She was a house dancer. Marking time between the feature sets, taking care of the customers.

It was her look that caught my eye, in two senses.

First, it was her appearance. All 70's. Dancer was a petite blonde, with a silky flowing Dorothy Hamill haircut and a look that was intentionally out of place. Bright pink and yellow flowered hotpants with a wide belt, and matching bikini top, straight out of the 70's. Neon flower child. With go-go boots to match. Think Goldie Hawn from "Laugh-in". A very pretty girl.

Not quite Goldie Hawn though, because of her "look", in the second sense. Her gaze. Her stare. Not perky like Goldie, but the opposite. Robotic, with a thousand-yard stare. She was present the whole time, but not there if that makes sense.

I first saw Dancer on the stage before the first feature set. She came out and started to work the pole. She caught my eye immediately, but I never caught hers. Nor did anyone else. Dancer stared out over our heads for the whole set. Never engaging. Never smiling. Never acknowledging anyone was there watching her.

Maybe she's nervous, I thought. Maybe it's her first night. That thought was dispelled, however, when she started working the pole. Dancer was skilled on the pole. Mega-skilled. She had moves. It was like watching an advanced level excercise class in pole-dancing, with Dancer tuning out the environment. And the tippers. All of the singles sat untouched on the tiprail. All of the customers sat unmolested at the tiprail. No boobs in the face. Not even a glance. Just Dancer, in her own little world, thoroughly enjoying her skillful ballet at the pole.

Dancer had a signature move. I'll call it the "Flag", for lack of a better description. Picture her - blonde, cute, in boots only having shed her flowered hotpants. Dancer climbs to the very top of the pole and positions her body, through an intricate leg and ankle lock on the pole, straight out horizontal from the pole. I think she was even rotating around the pole. But her body was rigid and straight out horizontal from the top of the pole. Then, carefully and delicately, she reached her arm down her back, under her exquisite ass cheeks, to curl her hand up to and over her pussy - which she petted for a few moments. I'm going to say for her own enjoyment, since she never once looked at the crowd. Very impressive. I was saluting at full mast.

I saw Dancer twice again.

Once at the tiprail during the feature show. Not watching the show, just there. Seated cross legged with her hand bent at the wrist out straight horizontally and her cigarette perched straight vertically. Burning. Dancer staring. The thousand-yard stare that says "What am I doing here?". Oblivious to the Porn Star working the stage above her.

Then again, after the show on the satellite stage. Guys crowding the small stage with singles out on the rail. Dancer oblivious. Staring out over our heads into the void. Displaying her pole mastery, including the awesome "Flag" position. Awesome.

Thank you, Sunshine Flowerchild. For the trip back in time.

The Pornstar, The Rock Star, and Me - Part II in Three Acts

…so there I was, out for a night in the chain club for the specific intent of enjoying the talents and charms of the Porn Star Feature Dancer. I’ve called on all of my knowledge and experience to maximize my enjoyment of the evening with Dancer. I’m seated at the main stage, front and center. And after the buildup and bio from the DJ, she’s there – onstage and in the flesh.

Dancer was exquisite. Porn Star beautiful. Two dimensional airbrushed perfection even in person in three dimensions.

I should qualify that, probably. I’ve met several porn starlets in person now, always in the context of featuring dancing in strip clubs. They are all pretty, no question. And they are all sexy, no question – projecting an attitude of sexuality that stands out even in a room full of strippers. And they are all bigger than life with the costumes that they wear onstage in the feature act. All sexy. All celebrities, in a sense. Dancer was all that and more. A step above. Clearly deserving of fame. A superstar.

Tall. Beautiful. Young. Very young. Sexy. Gorgeous. The perfect ass. Delicious legs. The total sex package. Ms. Jenna Haze.

Act I – the Stage

The costume for her first show fit her personality well. Naughty schoolgirl, of course. Plaid skirt. White knee socks. Black strappy stripper shoes. A white blouse, tied at the midriff. Hot. Unbelievably hot.

Dancer was nervous. Her first set in a new club. How do I know? She mouthed the words as she moved around the pole. “I’m nervous”. And her eyes sought out a friendly face for support in the natural place for her to look. Front and center. At me. And I obliged, providing positive feedback and encouragement for her whole set. Just me and dancer. (And some other guys, whatever).

Dancer took the measure of the stage in her first song. Working the pole. Working up some energy. Good stage dancing with a good sense of herself and the stage. Wow. I was entranced.

And then it was time. Time to engage the tiprail. Where to start? Can you guess? Front and center, of course, with her source of encouragement. DanceFan. Encouraging her. Appreciating her. And tipping her – with my $5 standing out from the singles lining the tiprail. Cheap, really, but effective. Dancer chose me to get the tipping started and she spent some time with me to set the example. Up close and personal. Handling me. Wowing me. Finally, grabbing my shirt to pull me up close to the stage to mount me – legs thrown over my shoulder, soft sexy thighs squeezing my face, with her silk-panty covered mound an inch from my nose. Wow.

Dancer worked the stage. Checking me with her eyes every so often as a comfortable touchstone. 3rd song – naked. In her glory. Laying on the stage in front of me – back arched and legs spread, masturbating furiously. Wow.

Act II – Conversation

I moved away from the stage to wait for the next event in the typical feature show agenda – signing and selling merchandise in a private booth. That would have to wait a while. Dancer had another stop first. She left the stage, still naked, and ran straight over to the roped off VIP area to sit with Rock Star.

Rock Star had come in a bit earlier, right before the stage show. I didn’t recognize him, but I knew right away that this was a band by their look and the VIP treatment. Especially his look, which was very distinctive. Later, by asking a couple of discreet questions, I learned who he was. ( If you’re a MTV2 fan, you probably would know him.) Rock Star and his entourage sat quietly on the VIP couch, remarkably quiet and well behaved. They didn’t have to say or do anything. They were quickly joined by naked showgirls, including the lovely Dancer. She sat with Rock Star, and it looked like they might know each other.

I chilled out with a beer and watched the informal show for a while – naked Dancer and the Rock Stary holding court. And eventually, she moved back to the schedule. The booth. The merchandise. I waited in line, very patiently. I knew how this worked. No hurry. I let the line move, ten or so guys ahead of me all buying a Polaroid of her sitting naked on their laps. Hot, definitely. Especially for the cute girl who worked up her courage to get in line and get a picture with naked Dancer on her lap. But not for me. Not when it was my turn.

“Hi baby. What would you like?”

“I’d like a DVD.”

“Come on over and let me show you.”

And Dancer, very lovely and very naked, sat with me on the couch to show me her wares.

“Do you want to see me with boys or with girls?”

“Girls. Definitely Girls.”

“Oh, goody!” , she squealed.

“Anything with Cassidey?”, I asked. “I’ve seen photo layouts with you and her that were hot.”

“No, she was under contract to Vivid. We couldn’t do movies together. Besides, she’s not in the business anymore. But I hang out with her a lot.”

So, Dancer talked me through my choices. So many scenes in this one. Anal with girls in that one. Strap-ons in the third with her friends. Yes, that will do. Strap-ons. Sold. So, Dancer signed my DVD as we talked.

“Do you want a picture, too?”, she asked.

“No!”, I laughed. “I’m still trying to hide the one I took with Felecia.”

Dancer squealed again. “Oh, I love Felecia! She’s one of the first girls I met in the business.”

We stood, the transaction completed. Dancer stood with me. Very lovely. Very naked.

A surreal experience.

“Make sure you stay for my next show”, Dancer whispered to me. “It’s my best.”

How could I refuse.

Act III - Sharing Dancer with the Rock Star

At midnight, more or less, Dancer was out on stage. I didn’t think she could outdo naughty schoolgirl. I was wrong.

Naughty French Maid. Yeow! Black vinyl maid’s outfit. Black knee-high boots. And a feather duster, with a handle that would come in handy as a prop for a horny French Maid while she danced. Yeow!

I chose a seat at the side this time. Just watch. And there was a lot to watch. Besides, this set was for her friend, the Rock Star.

Dancer did find me, and recognize me I think. Some eye contact. Some smiles. And a tip where she came out over the stage head down into my lap. Yeow!

Dancer moved out of the first song – a driving rock song – with more energy into the second song. Marilyn Manson – the “Dope Show”. Rock Star stood up by the side of the stage and got some attention. Some bills on the stage. Probably not singles. Dancer spent some time treating him well, with the rest of us average joes watching with envy.

And then it got surreal-er.

Dancer moved into her third song. Some driving heavy metal unknown to me.

“That’s his song”, said the guy next to me. “He’s singing it”. Unreal. We both looked at Rock Star, still standing at the stage – grinning a confident grin.

Dancer reached back behind the stage and pulled out a lollipop, which she preceded to abuse for our visual enjoyment. Licking it seductively. Sucking on it. Rubbing it on her nipples. Laying on the stage – back arched and legs spread – to rub it vigorously on her clit to the beat. ( Rock Star grinning ear to ear.) For the climax – moving over to my side of the stage and kneeling right beside me while she inserted the lollipop inside of her – stick deep – and working it in and out furiously. Unbelievable.

Finally, Dancer withdrew the lollipop as the song was ending, stood and walked to the other side of the stage, and popped the sucker into Rock Stars surprised mouth as she exited the stage.

Surreal.

And I was out. Great show. Thank you, Dancer.

Passing 100,000!

I have a hit counter on this blog, but I don't check it very often. Only if I accidentally scroll down too far while surfing my links. Which I did today - whereupon I noticed that I have passed thru 100,000 hits. Yeah!

That is, of course, more hits than I ever expected to get when I started this little out-of-the-way blog with no pictures or advertising. Just me, laid bare, and my thoughts and my links.

As some of you know, I started this blog in November of 2003. I had stumbled on blogs somehow and was inspired by a few that I first read. I knew I had to write. To express these experiences that I live in the dark. To pay tribute to the dancers that I was fortunate to spend time with. And, as an unexpected benefit, to join and live in the blog community.

It had a different original name. One that fit me and that expressed what I wanted to say. But I gave that name up one hasty night when I decided to pull the plug. I deleted the blog. Zap. Gone. I was fine with that for a month until two things happened. One - I realized that I still need to write. Two - I realized that some pervert had assumed my old name and was writing filth on it. Also, that he copied all of the blogroll. That was a shocker.

So, I reconstituted the blog as DanceFan. And here I am.

And here you all are as well. Thank you all for visiting.

Thank you to the regulars that have been out there since the beginning. My virtual friends! I appreciate each and every one of you.

And thank you to every new reader. Welcome. Stay and read for a while. There's over two hundred posts for you to browse through at your leisure. Just scroll down.

And, while you're here, visit my links on my sidebar. They're all interesting people and it's worth the surfing.

I'll stay around for a while. I have more stories to tell.

For example, the rest of the "Pornstar, Rockstar, and Me" story, which I promise I'll write this week.

Here's to blogging!

Christmas Day for Dancer

It was the end of a long day. Work, of course. And a nice dinner with my beautiful companion.

I was letting down, tired even. Dancer perked me up. And Dancer and I shared a new experience together.

As we talked at the table, discussion turned to a recent feature dancer show that I had seen.

"What's a feature show".

"It's a porn star or famous dancer who travels to a club."

"Do they dance too?"

"Yes. Three shows a night. In costumes."

"What kind of costumes?"

"Oh, a range of elaborate costumes like naughty schoolgirl, or a french maid."

"Schoolgirl? What's that look like?"

"Plaid skirt. Pig tails. White kneesocks."

"Which costume does it for you?"

"I like them all. I don't have one favorite. Besides, it's more about personality and attitude."

"Wow, I'm glad you said all of that. I've been thinking about changing my look in here."

"You have a great personality. You already stand out in here. And I like what you're wearing".

I should say that Dancer is very pretty young lady with a sparkling personality. She is the energy in the room. She's a tall, slender, and pretty. Her red slinky-dress perfectly set off her ebony skin and her long straight black hair.

"But", I said, "it would be fun to take you shopping for an outfit."

"What would you recommend for me?"

"A choker, to start with. Black leather."

"Okay, what else."

"I'd go with the naughty schoolgirl outfit. You're young and pretty. Almost every club has someone with that look and I don't see it here. It's not particularly my thing, although it can be hot. Most importantly, you would probably seriously "bank" in that outfit."

"Wow, I would like to change my look".

"I tell you what. I'll go shopping for you. There's a store down the street."

"And you'll bring it back tonight? I'll wear it for you onstage."

"If I find something."

A word to the bouncer on the way out - "I may be back" - and I was off down the street.

I love shopping in a lingerie / toy store. Picturing the intended in each outfit. Imagining the combinations. It's a terrific experience. It would have been better if she was there shopping with me. But it was fun as it was.

Choices. So many choices.

And, eventually, I arrived back at the club with a bag in hand. A nod from the doorman and I'm back in.

Dancer sees the bag and comes racing right to me. Giggling. Shrieking.

It's Christmas Day.

She's disbelieving as she looks through the bag.

A schoolgirl outfit, 2 piece. A red plaid skirt, of course. And a lycra top, red with a white collar. Short with the midriff exposed. I had decided that red was a good color on her.

White knee socks.

Choker. Black, leather, with the word "SEXY" in silver.

Plus, a toy for good measure. Fun for her off hours. A simple mini-mite pocket rocket style. (I didn't find batteries. Sorry Dancer, you're on your own there. But find them and try it. It will be worth it.)

Dancer, bounded off, all excitement and energy, to the dressing room. My energy was picking up too.

After a few short minutes, she was called to the stage. And she emerged - dressed in my outfit.

Wow! Hot! Sexy! A very exciting experience. (Her house mom, she told me later, helped her spice it up backstage by tying it in back. Nice.)

Dancer got a lot of immediate attention from both customers and dancers as she came out on stage and went into a high energy stage set. For me, at the tiprail and others. A lot of attention.

And we danced, of course, in the private dance. Very hot. Very personal. Did I mention that Dancer is a beautiful young girl. Nice.

I don't know if she'll wear that outfit again. If it works for her, if she banks, then wear it. If it doesn't, then don't.

I know it worked for me.

Thank you, Dancer, for the experience. See you next time.

Doing It in the Dark

I see on the news that the Los Angeles area, out to the San Fernando Valley, is without power.

Lights out in the Valley. Uh oh.

Are they filming the porn with flashlights and candles today?

The Porn Star, the Rock Star, and Me

I knew she was coming, and my business travel matched up with her visit. So, naturally, I had to go see her.

A porn star. In the flesh. Dancing on stage for me. (And some other guys. Whatever.)

Had I seen her work before? Oh yeah. Still photos, mostly. And a bio on HBO's Real Sex. And a flirty segment on Howard Stern. Still photos, mostly.

She's beautiful, of course. Tall. Tanned. Toned. Long, sexy, silky brunette hair.

But can she dance?

I was going to use everything I know about porn star feature dancing to maximize my experience. There is definitely an advantage in experience. Knowledge is power. Knowledge is success. I'll let you in on some of my hard-earned secrets regarding Feature Dancers.

Arrive early in the week. Most of the features that I've seen dance a Thursday thru Saturday schedule. So arrive early in the week while Dancer is new to the club and the rest of the crowd hasn't figured out how it all works yet. I showed up Thursday night.

Arrive early in the night. In my experience, features usually put on 3 shows a night. Let's say 10pm, midnight, and 2 am. Something like that. Again, your best chance to enjoy personal interaction with a feature dancer is to be up first. That means the 10pm show on Thursday night. I was there by 8:30 - learning the layout of the club. It was a chain club, well known with outlets around the country. The club was one large cavernous room with a main stage, a couple of satellite stages, a bar, and some high profile VIP areas roped off around each stage. There weren't many people in the club, given that a gorgeous porn star was about to take the stage. I sat off on the side at table for a while to observe the dynamics of the club. Not much going on, honestly. Most importantly, the main stage was completely open.

Get a center-front seat at the main stage. This should be basic common sense. However, it was evading everyone in the club. The DJ was doing his best to get the word out. "Come on guys, only 3 songs left. Pull up a chair and get that front row seat!". Nothing. Despite the DJ's pleadings, everyone was indifferent. Except for me - that's why I was there. I got up, walked over to the stage, and took a seat all by myself at dead center front. Everyone else is on their own. I'm ready for a great show.

Make eye contact. When Dancer comes out on stage for that first show in a new club, she's going to be nervous. Wouldn't you be? She's going to seek out a friendly face. I'm that friendly face. It's not faked. I'm there to see her. She's there to perform for me. I know I'm going to have a great time. I try to help her have one too. I give her feedback. Encouragement. Energy. It's the least I can do.

Tip bigger. Not extravagantly bigger. Just bigger. Here's the dynamics of it: guys have been tipping dancers on stage all night - $1 at a time. It takes them a while to switch gears a little bit when a porn star feature dancer shows up in front of them. Really, guys. This girl is famous. She's been all over the country. She's made some serious money. Is a $1 tip sufficient? Eventually, the tip rail will be crowded. Is a $1 tip going to get her attention at that point? Doubtful. Some guys up the ante a little and slide a couple or even five singles out on the stage. Good. But not great. If you want personal interaction, go bigger quicker. A $5 or a $10 is sufficient early on and it will stand out from all of the singles laid out around the tiprail. Try it. You'll see.

So. She was coming. I was in place with a plan. Not a conscious plan. Just experience. It was time.

After the usual DJ buildup and Dancer bio, she was there. Live. Onstage. In front of me.....

(Part II soon)

Am I addicted?

I was driving down the street one day and I saw a sign in the window of a chain lingerie/novelties store. DVD's on sale - $2.95.

I stopped.

I went into the "porn stare" zone, and in the space of 15 minutes I had selected 8 DVDs. They covered the spectrum of tastes, quirks, and kinks. $25 total.

Each was a 4 hour DVD.

That, folks, is 32 hours of quality hardcore porn.

32 hours. Of porn.

What am I going to do with 32 hours of porn?

Okay, strike that. I know what I'm going to do with it.

Go blind.

The Perfect Strip Club

I can stop looking now. I found it one night. The perfect strip club.

One of the common questions that I'm asked by dancers in our tableside chats in the dark, when the topic of my travels comes up, is: "What is the best strip club that you've been to in the country?"

I've never really had an answer to that question. Or, more accurately, I've had too many answers to that question.

I've been to a lot of clubs in twenty plus years of enjoying strippers. A lot of clubs. Everything from maximum upscale to hole-in-the-wall dive. Chain clubs. Local bars with a stage. The whole gamut. A lot of clubs. And I've enjoyed myself in most of them.

So. The best?

Well, I'm partial to my home club. I'd highly recommend it. But it's a little off the beaten path.

I also have some favorites here and there around the country, both on the coasts and in the heartland. And I imagine that there are some great clubs in Vegas, but I haven't been to those.

So. The best?

I found it. And, although I only had a short time to enjoy it one night, I'm sure I'll be back.

What makes a great club? Decor. Music. Friendly waitresses. Beautiful and sexy dancers, of course. And lastly, liberal contact rules in the private dance.

Did the Perfect Club have those elements? In spades. If ever a club was designed specifically to be a great club - this one was it.

From the high intensity light beams scanning the sky from the roof that drew me in, to the incredible day-glo and neon interior, to the professionally designed stages. Perfect.

From the friendly waitressess to the great DJ. Perfect. (Hi to my waitress - a cutie!)

From the TV's playing hardcore adult videos to the drink holders at the urinals in the immaculate restrooms. Perfect.

Let's not forget the world-class gorgeous,sexy, and eventually nude dancers. Perfect.

And, as the capstone, the extremely liberal contact with the dancers rules. Perfect.

I had a great time.

At the tiprail, where I met several lovely young ladies who took my hands and placed them strategically to keep them busy.

At the table, where I had a nice chat with Dancer and our dancer/waitress. Dancer liked running her hands through my "soft hair". I liked everything about Dancer. A cute petite sweetie with a great attitude. Shots with Dancer, and we're off to:

The private dance. A bed dance. With liberal contact rules. And a beautiful, delightful, spirited, pretty, feisty young Dancer. My hands on her delightful body. All of her on me. My appreciation evident. One of the best private dance I've ever had. Perfect. Thank you, Dancer! I want to meet you again.

A tip to the DJ, and I was out, reluctantly.

A great night in the Perfect Strip Club. I'll be back.