Sweet Southern Charm

I found her again. A beautiful girl with a sweet Southern charm. Playful and sexy. Athletic and graceful. And this was the night to spend time with her.

It was an easy path to the club now, found almost automatically by my car in the dark. A good size crowd greeted me as I settled into the rhythm of the club. Apart from the frenetic DJ, I could relax in here.

Some preliminaries, to be sure. A tip here and there. A table dance here, then there. All preliminaries. When I saw Dancer come out on stage, I knew where the night was headed.

She came out first on the back stage, waiting her turn for the runway, and I approached her there. There was that smile, as she knelt to receive the tip. That beautiful smile on a beautiful girl. Long gorgeous hair that flowed down past her waist, sun-kissed blonde. A tight white top with long flowing sleeves. A white skirt, tight to feature her delicious derriere, with a white thong panty peek at eye level to me. A black garter on her thigh for accentuation and tattoos, artistry on a pale canvas, discreetly placed. And that smile. Beautiful.

I loved her energy as she danced. Upright, with her arms high above her head and her shapely hips cocked just so. Horizontal, doing push-ups on the stage with her toned arms flexing. Graceful on the pole. Smiling all the while, with energy and vitality.

If Kate Hudson, the perky actress and daughter of Goldie, were a toned stripper and gymnast, she would be this dancer. Same spirit. Same vitality. Similar look.

So, we danced, she and I – on cue. After she attended to her fan club, but on cue.

Table dances first on the main floor. Gliding and sensual. A visual treat. Two songs, slow and paced. Leaning into me, but not touching. Just out of reach. Teasing. Her back to me, with her hair flowing down to her heart shaped, white thong covered, derriere making slow circles just above my lab. Leaned back on me, head rested deliciously on my shoulder, with a view down her breasts and that soft flat belly. Cheek rested against me. Her breasts, beautiful small natural breasts, gathered with one hand with a finger from her other teasing down between them. A show, just for me. Very nice.

A break. Off to do a promotional dance for her fans – 3 businessmen enjoying their evening and showing their appreciation. I watched the club, and the exotic spectacle of 15 hot dancers doing table dances simultaneously in the main room. And Dancer, her shapely toned back to me, dancing for her men. Hovering over them, her shapely back arched and her hips swishing slowly. Graceful. Appreciated.

And back to me. Dancer and I moved to a private booth. Where we talked, mostly.

We had some time before the first song started, a break for everyone to restart after the promotion. So we chatted, seated on the bench next to her. Small talk, about this club and others. About the rules. Any talk was okay, just to be near this beautiful girl.

And we danced, sort of. I was in a good mood. A talkative mood. An appreciative mood. Not necessarily a grind mood, or a touch mood. Talking was okay.

Dancer moved, as we talked, and kept up the essentials of a dance. Some stripping. Some slow circles. And I appreciated her efforts. She was very good at this type of dance – no touch, almost platonic.

So I talked. And I laughed. And I appreciated her beauty and her physique and her essence. And her vitality.

Some moments, as the dance progressed, of GFE. She sensed me. Sensed that I enjoyed the close contact of her. Not her body parts. Her. Some nuzzling, cheek to cheek. Grazing me with her luxurious hair. Pressing that delightful mane into my chest and rubbing into me. Appreciating that feeling of contact with her. Not horny. Not salacious. Very sensuous. Back up to me, cheek to cheek with her hair between us. Feeling the heat of her on the other side against my cheek. Delicious.

Three songs, and we’re out.

Thank you Dancer. A beautiful and vital Southern lady. I’ll remember you.

Life Outside the Blog

I've had some interesting contact with readers outside of the blog this week.

Thank you to one new friend and a couple of longer friends. You were all good for me this week.

And to the new friend, thanks for lunch. I owe you one.

Spent

Last week was a difficult and exhausting week, and I'm spent. I posted a lot, and long posts at that. I'm going to let everyone catch up for a few days and recharge my batteries.

So, take some time and read back through my recent long posts. You're likely to catch some details that you missed the first time.

Or, better yet - if you are a new reader - scroll down to the bottom and read my beginnings to find out why I write this blog. There's some good stuff early on that you may have missed or not caught yet.

Enjoy.

And go visit the links on my sidebar. My virtual friends.

Just a few days, Yawn...., I promise. Must sleep.....

Dating Myself in Paradise

I’m alone. Extended traveling on business away from my family. In my favorite city on the planet, so far.

So, I took myself on a two day date.

To a play. Live musical theater, to be accurate, which I love. Nicely dressed. On the aisle. A toe-tapping, sing along good time.

To dinner. In a charming restaurant with Old South ambience. At a windowside table to watch the passing late evening party-ers. A delicious well-cooked filet mignon and a tasty dessert.

Clubbing – which you’ve read about in great detail.

Chasing the light. Photography, in the early morning sun. Exploring the heart of a newly familiar city. Seeing it my way, with my lens. My creativity bursting in the beautiful glow of morning. Chasing color.

To the ocean. Walking the surf’s edge for miles with the crashing surf and the cool breeze as my backdrop. Enjoying a frozen margarita on a colorful rooftop bar beachside, watching the tall ships disappear over the horizon, listening to tropical ballads by a lone guitarist.

Seeing Paradise my way. Perfectly. Except…

I was alone. In a sea of people. At the theater, the restaurant, the club, the city, the beach. Alone.

In Paradise.

And it was the most crushingly lonely weekend of my life.

Oh well, could be worse.

Porn Star Orgy at Center Stage, Part 4: On Stage

…so, when we left off I had enjoyed a Porn Star Feature Dancer night at the strip club. A lot to see and experience. After leaving the club in the early AM I went back to my hotel, enjoyed the hot breakfast - still reeking of the club – and crashed into bed.

Where I stayed for a while the next morning. It was a weekend, and I had indulged in the experience, so I slept in. I had quite a hangover when I woke up. Not a beer hangover, because I didn’t have anything to drink all night. Not a beer. Not a drink. Not even a Diet Pepsi. Nothing. More like a club hangover from staying up too late on a high state of excitement and arousal for too long, and from being drenched in cigarette smoke and pounding music. So, it felt like a hangover.

And the cure for the hangover was to go back.

I eventually got up and moving, although very slowly, and made my way back out on the town. I went out for the evening and had a nice late dinner by myself. Around midnight I realized that the Ms. Kim Chambers was still in town for her last show night. So I found my way back to the club for a couple of her last performances.

I wasn’t in to the crowd this time. I looked around and it seemed like a much different group, and not a lot of fun. I wasn’t likely to linger around and just hang out, but I wanted to see her show.

“Two songs from our Feature Dancer”, the DJ announced. So I positioned myself near the stage and waited. By myself. No one else came up until she came out. As she came out, the crowd quickly filled up the standing space around the stage. Standing, beer in hand, no money out.

I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted out of the experience that night. I had seen 3 stage shows already the night before. Played booby ball. Watched others get pulled up on stage. Watched pretty girls get fondled. Bought the merchandise. (And watched the DVD, which was very hot!) Met Kim briefly twice. What did I want tonight? What had I missed? Getting pulled up on stage for a “ride for $5” was it, but I wasn’t sure that I wanted to. As Kim came around the front of the stage I helped her out by starting the tipping – but I didn’t put out $5. I pulled my punch. I wimped out. In a moment of indecision I put $2 down on the stage. More than the dollar others would offer, less than the $5 that would get me pulled on stage, and less than the $20 she was worth. Kim saw my tip and stopped at me first. I got a nice little show, still clothed, including the knee hooked around my neck pulling me in for a closeup view of her beautiful anatomy. Very nice. Certainly worth $2 for the personal contact. And it worked in getting the tipping started for that round, as guys started digging in their pockets for money to get their turn. She did a nice show for a few songs and brought up some guys and a couple of girls, but not me. And then she was off stage.

I moved back from the stage after she left, a little disappointed in myself. The stage tip was nice but I had stopped short. Unfulfilled.

I wanted to see another show but I didn’t necessarily want to hang out here. The crowd looked pretty dull. Just a lot of dudes standing around over their coolers drinking. Not many pretty girls that night. So I left, knowing that my hand stamp would get me back in.

I walked across the street to an adjacent club, the Land of the Towering Blondes. They were all there and they did not disappoint. Dancer after dancer – young, slender, tall, blonde. All very, very pretty. Wow.

(Sidenote: a reader asked me if this is my type, since I talk about blondes a lot on DanceFan. The answer is no. It just happens to be the physical type of dancer that predominates in some clubs. Stacked blondes kind of fit the employee profile – so to speak. But no, I don’t have a type. I have a fetish for “women”, period. I visit with and choose a variety of dancers over time. There are a lot of sexy brunettes and girls “of color” out there, and I’ve spent time with all of them.)

I had a nice time there, stageside, tipping each dancer as she came out on stage. Watching the two pretty brunettes across the stage from me doing the same. They were clearly enjoying the attention.

And I finally bought a dance that night. The last special of the evening, at last call near 2am, with one of the loveliest of the towering blondes, who I caught as she walked by me. Two nice tableside dances, polite with no contact and no conversation, plus a souvenier shirt – all for $20. A shirt without a club logo, making it the first shirt I’ve gotten during a promotional dance that I could actually take home and wear.

Back across the street, back into the club with a wave of the handstamp, just in time to see Dancer, the very sexy Ms. Chambers, who was already out on stage. Hell with it, I thought. There’s one more thing to do. And I held my $5 up high.

Dancer saw me and pulled me up on stage. “Lay down here”, she instructed and I did so as she mounted up for the cowgirl ride. Very nice. Very visual. And I enjoyed the feel of her weight on me. It was my moment. The highlight being when Dancer leaned over on me and put her cheek next to mine, completely covering my head with her luxurious mane of hair, and blocking out the club. For a moment, a split second really, it was just her and I in that space. A split second of headspace, of GFE. “Thank you, baby”, I said as I got a nice buss on the cheek. And it was over.

After a short stint of appreciating the house dancers, I decided to call it a night. As I passed thru the club, I saw Kim - finished with an autograph session - sitting alone in her lighted booth. So I stopped, said hi, and told her that I appreciated her shows. She was very nice and gracious in taking a few moments to chat with me. And once again, I was struck with her - dancer, yes, pornstar, yes, bombshell, yes - as a very pretty girl. And nice as well.

I was out, back to the hotel at a more reasonable hour. Ready for some personal time for myself the next day.

It was quite a weekend.

Thank you, Dancer. I’ll remember you.

Small Screen Strippers

I'm up late, and I see that "G-String Divas" is on HBO at 3am or so. I don't know if I'll make it that long, but I've enjoyed that show before.

Most Hollywood fictional portrayals of strippers seem ridiculous to me. I'm thinking "Showgirls" and "Striptease", of course, among others. Their portrayals of dancing onstage are way too frenetic and don't strike a realistic chord with me.

I prefer the documentary portrayals, like HBO's G-String divas, which I thought was very authentic. And therefore, hot.

Maybe I'll stay up.

License to Lust

I'm off to dinner. A certain sit down restaurant with an owl mascot where I have a free pass to ogle the wait staff.

Beautiful girls with orange clad bottoms.

Not strippers, but cute in their own right. And I mean that in a good way.

I enjoy a more expensive restaurant as much as any, but I have my days where a delightfully tacky yet unrefined experience is just what I need.

Porn Star Orgy at Center Stage, Part 3: Rolling, and the Bustier Comes Off!

…so, Porn Star Feature Dancer night at the strip club continued. I had seen two of Ms. Kim Chambers’ exciting stage shows. I had played “Booby Ball”, tossing wadded up dollar bills at a shot glass held between Kim’s breasts onstage. And I had purchased autographed souveniers from Kim at her booth – a DVD and a Polaroid of her naked on my lap.

Plus, I witnessed a bachelor party girl-on-girl show onstage and tipped some dancers on the satellite stage. No private dances, but that’s okay on Feature Dance nights. I’m there to watch the show.

I also saw a fight break out in a group of young turks fueled up by their BYOB stash right after Pammy was stripped. It was in the area where she was dressing, and it momentarily scared her – so she grabbed her clothes and moved back. The bouncers rushed in to break it up, stranding the parade of house dancers ready to come down for a special.

That’s a lot for one night. But I wasn’t ready to leave yet. And Kim’s next show wouldn’t start for a while.

It was moving past 3am now, and with other clubs in town closed the crowd began to swell up towards 250. There are some tables, and some chairs, and some couches in the room. But mainly it looks like a lot of people hovering over coolers.

I passed the time by moving around and observing the crowd. Not neglecting the house dancers on stage, of course.

The trio of college girls were surrounded now, getting hit on by some of the brave few. They weren’t responding. In fact, they had been emptying their coolers for a while and looked sleepy.

Buddy Girl was still hanging out in the couches above the stage with her friends, some of whom were getting more and more rowdy and aggressive.

The Attractive Couple was moving around the club, sampling the wares of various dancers on the satellites stages, him tipping and her encouraging him. I spoke up as we passed.

Me: “So, did you end up getting the Polaroid?”

Couple-Guy: “No, I passed.”

Couple-Girl, of the black bustier: “Well, let’s see yours.”

Me: “It was fun. I’m glad I did it.”

Couple-Girl: “Fun is back there”, pointing to the private dance booths and smiling big.

Me: “So, have you been back there.”

CG: “Once. It was really fun. But you should ask him.” I’m guessing couple-guy has been there more than once.

And there were new players joining the cast. Mostly female. There were girls flooding the club at this late hour. Many very pretty. And a few worth noting.

There were two Dawson Creek girls. Dressed preppy, lace shawl and all. A Katie Holmes clone and her pale blonde twin. They moved around with a shocked-by-naughtiness O forming on their mouths for a while, watching from a few feet away as a fully nude spectacular dancer slid down a pole upside down. Priceless. They’re not that innocent now.

And the two party girls, who passed by me on their way to the Ladies Room, one dragging the other by her hand. They came out together later, conspicuously mussed, with the Paulina Porizkova clone’ jeans still unbuttoned. Hmmmm. Hot or sloppy? I couldn’t tell. But they were in their own world. Both hands raised and dancing to their own internal soundtrack. Oblivious to their surroundings. Rolling, I’m guessing – if that’s the right term. Ecstasy? Probably.

Still waiting for Kim.

Two more bachelor parties. Two more increasingly lurid girl-on-girl shows for the groom’s erectional benefit. Ritualized kitty-licking by beautiful and very flexible! girls, inches from me.

And the stadium jam music told me she was coming.

Ecstasy Girl pushed her way up to the side of the stage with her girlfriend, still dancing to her own music, and spun girlfriend around to grind on her. Interesting.

Out came Kim for her next show in a hot sequined chaps outfit. Very professional. Very sexy. Very entertaining. The large crowd swelled up against the stage, and it was time for a show.

It was the ladies turn again, and Kim surveyed the crowd and chose. Buddy Girl had made her way stage side, and was chosen – pulled on stage, but not alone. Couple Girl was pulled up as well!

Kim laid them out side by side on the stage and had her way with them for our enjoyment. One at a time. Stalking them. Fondling them. Down came Buddy Girl’s jeans, panties displayed and fondled. Up came Couple-Girl’s bustier and out came her delectable tits. Kim got two hands full to massage and fondle, and as Couple-Guy stood stageside smiling, the crowd roared their approval. They seemed to enjoy it. I know I did.

Booby Ball was next, but the newly arriving crowd was too drunk to get it. Kim moved around the stage trying to give away some merchandise, but they just weren’t figuring out the wadded dollar bill toss into the shot glass. I already had my merchandise, but I tried to help her out. I got Kim’s attention and she stopped in front of me. To educate my drunken stageside peers, in an exaggerated fashion, I rolled up a bill and tossed it at the shot glass she held strategically. Ohhhh, now they get it. And the game was on. You’re welcome.

Unexpectedly, instead of ending her show there as before, Kim gave us one more voyeuristic gift. She had noticed Ecstasy Girl gesturing wildly at the side of the stage and she pulled her onstage. Kim attempted the fondle show, but EG wasn’t playing along. She was rolling. Dancing dreamily around the stage, like a toked up hippie girl at a Grateful Dead concert, just out of Kim’s reach. Spinning around the pole. Moving just as Kim caught her. She paused just long enough to strip completely naked, and then resumed her dance. Rolling. Kim caught her at the pole and moved in behind her, catching a fistful of hair and humping into her. But EG was gone again. Rolling. Finally, Kim just sat down on the stage and watched EG dancing around in her own little world. “She’s hot”, Kim said to the crowd. And she was. Hot. And rolling.

Finally, Kim was done and I was too. I wanted to wind down as the night headed somewhere toward 5 am.

I checked out the crowd as I exited the room. I swear there were men sitting on high chairs in the middle of the room completely passed out drunk. One guy crashed his whole cooler on the ground as I passed by. Must be hell to clean up that place every night.

I made it back to my hotel and noticed, unbelievably, that it would soon be breakfast time in the lobby! Reeking of strip club, I went down and had a nice meal of eggs and biscuits and gravy with the geriatric early riser set. Delicious. Then I went back to my room and crashed.

To pick up the next day where I had left off...

Stripper Fantasy Dies a Cushioned Death

I enjoy Ken and Ariel's witty and sexy website, linked on my sidebar. Go check out Ken's post today ("Perpetual Immaturity") about the fantasy he has when women tell him they are "going out with the ladies for the night". Here's a hint: it involves four scantily clad vixens, jumping on a bed, and badmitton rackets!

Here's the comment that I left for them on the post:

"I can relate.

I used to fantasize about what strippers do in the daytime. Do they all live together and have girl loving sessions all day? In my dreams, yes.

Reality intruded this week as I watched a pretty blonde girl bitch at her boyfriend in a Super Walmart as she picked out Dr. Sholl gel insoles. "Get your ass over here and help me choose", she told him loud enough for the whole aisle to hear. "I've got to dance in these tonight!".

Do they fit in the clear heels?"

Did I Have a Hall Pass? at the Strip Club

So, I had a question. And the nearest club employee in sight was the mountain of bald humanity overwhelming a barstool next to the stage. A bouncer.

"Yeah, four eyes? What do you want?"

Four eyes? Are you fucking kidding me?

I'm 45 years old. No one has called me "four eyes" in more than 3 decades, if ever.

When I was fifteen that would have bothered me.

That night, surrounded by beautiful semi-naked strippers, I just laughed.

And gave the next stripper a bigger tip.

Revenge, my style.

Porn Star Orgy at Center Stage, Part 2: Stripping the Cute Civilian

…so, it was the wild night at the strip club with the Feature Dancer. You’ve already met the players from part one:

Kim Chambers: Feature Dancer, porn star, sex bomb, and a very pretty girl indeed.

Buddy Girl, hanging out with her guy friends and hiding unobtrusively in the back on a couch above the stage. Cute, as far as I can tell with short blonde hair, jeans, and a green tanktop.

Attractive Couple with couple-girl in a black bustier and a good attitude.

College girls, a trio, hanging out stage center sitting on their BYOB coolers.

And “Pammy”, the show stopping cutie standing next to the stage offering herself up to be fondled by each dancer in turn. She was dazzingly cute, and everyone in the club was acutely aware of her presence. Every time a dancer would come on stage and get to her at the tiprail, all eyes would swivel to the moment – watching each dancer caress and fondle her in their own way. I’m calling her Pammy because she looked to me like she could be Pamela Anderson’s little sister. Not in the gargantuan tits department, because she hadn’t developed there or been to the surgeon. But in her big curly hair, pulled back in a pony tail and in her very cute face. Button cute. And, I know this will sound strange, she had Pam Anderson’s eyebrows. Exactly. Plus, she was hot.

I had been to my car to drop off my signed DVD from Ms. Chambers and was anticipating her next show. But before we got to that, it was bachelor party time.

There were starting to be more people filtering into the club around 1:30 or so and there seemed to be a few parties. Parties fueled by the BYOB coolers that were getting a little more boisterous as the night moved on. And at least one of the parties was a bachelor party. As the DJ beckoned the tipsy groom to be onstage his buddies lined up to cheer him on.

Now, each club has their own particular culture and habits when it comes to celebrating and / or humiliating grooms and birthday boys. I’ve written about this before in “Babes Wielding Belts”. I was about to learn the habits of this club, and it went like this: First, four of the lovely house dancers came out on stage with a chair, which they positioned on center stage. The hapless male in question was surrounded by the ladies who swarmed him while one of them knelt to get his pants down around his ankles and his belt off. Once he was seated, the ritual began. Two of the girls stayed with him and, holding his arms back, looped the belt around his neck to hold him still. The other two hot dancers straddled each leg simultaneously for a sensous double grind, and then moved out about 6 feet away to the front of the stage directly in front of him. There they proceeded to put on a girl-on-girl show in an attempt to give the groom a boner. Facing each other, the dancers embraced and made a show of rubbing their tits together. Then, one at a time, they knelt in front of the other to go down on each other in a standing position. Enthusiastically, but briefly. Yeow! Then they stood and traded places with the two detainers holding the neck-belt. These two bounced on his lap while making yelping kitten noises and then proceeded 6 ft out and did the same. The blonde with short hair and the cutoff sports jersey knelt in front of the brunette, cupping her cheek skillfully in the way of a knowing lover, pulled her in to feast. When it was her turn the brunette spun the blonde around, bent her over at the waist, pulled her cheeks apart, and buried her face in between. Again, enthusiastically. I don’t know if the groom had a boner, but I did. Proceeding with the ritual, they turned away from him and spanked themselves for his viewing pleasure. Then all four gathered to surround him in a four-way boob hug before pushing him to the floor on all fours for his spanking with his own belt. All in all, quite an elaborate ritual.

And then it was time again for Ms Chambers, and her feature dancer stage show. In her earlier show, Kim had dragged several guys on stage for a ride-for-five experience, cowgirl style. This set was for the ladies. Two beautiful ladies.

First up was a house dancer. Raven black hair with matching black chaps with strategic cutouts. She was giddy and giggling as Kim pulled her up on stage and laid her out on her back. For our benefit and viewing pleasure, Kim gave us quite a show. Fondling her before spreading her legs wide and moving in to feast on raven’s panty covered pussy. Wow!

And then, the inevitable happened and Kim pulled Pammy up on stage. I said earlier that she was either the cutest civilian girl I’d ever seen in a club or a stripper herself, and we were about to find out which. Pammy came willingly onto the stage with a “who,me?” look on her face. Kim could see the quality of this girl and took her time to play it for all it was worth. Gently she laid Pammy back on her stage just a few feet from my standing position at the edge of the stage. Pammy’s head was near me, and I had a perfect view down her body as Kim crawled up over her, stalking like a jungle cat. A perfect position to look down Kim’s back to see a perfect heart-shaped ass framed by a black leather studded thong. A perfect view to see Kim nuzzle her neck before pulling Pammy’s red/white top up to show us all her small, sexy tits before she fondled them.

“If you want to see two girls get completely naked, I better hear some fucking noise!” the DJ bellowed, and the crowd – numbering more than 100 – roared back our approval. And the stripping began.

Kim came quickly out of her thong. Pammy sat partially up and peeled off her tops with an ear-to-ear grin, and then laid back on the stage. Kim unbuttoned her, unzipped her, and then slowly drew Pammy’s pants down her legs to the applause and mad cheering of the crowd, revealing her small pink panties. Kim lowered her head to those panties and, looking straight ahead at me, licked them. It was brain melting hot. The panties were soon gone and the poses changed. And my suspicions were, to me at least confirmed. Pammy had to be a stripper herself. She was perfect: that pretty face and big hair, that toned body with a spectacular tailbone tattoo, that tanned body and shaved kitty. Perfect. And totally comfortable nude onstage. She had to be a stripper herself. And Kim was making the most of their show together. She turned Pammy around on all fours and snuggled in behind her, doggy style. Very hot. She pulled her upright, still on their knees, and licked her fingers before reaching around to run them across Pammy’s pussy lips. Smoking hot. And all the time, Pammy maintained that pleased and startled “Who, me?” lucky girl smile. It was priceless, that show, and I’ll never forget it.

After some more “Booby ball” with the shot glass between her breasts and merchandise giveaways, Kim’s second show was over and she was off the stage and back to the merchandise booth for a spell. “Oh, hell”, I thought. “I’m going to get the Polaroid with her.” I went to wait in line to speak with Kim Chambers – porn star and showstopping dancer - for the second time that night.

”How much is the Polaroid?”, I heard from my left. It was the attractive couple, pondering a purchase. “$20 bucks”, I answered – still marveling at them both enjoying the club experience. She was pretty, and I wanted to spend some time talking to them. But it was my turn with Kim, and I found myself sitting in the booth with a fully nude Kim.

“Okay”, she said, “You have to hold my knees. Here we go. One, two, three!”. And with that she swung her legs up for me to catch behind her knees. And the flash went off, and I had another souvenier. Now, where will I keep that?

I excused myself, went out to the car to deposit my risqué Polaroid, and came back in past the doorman for the 3rd – but not final – chapter……

Porn Star Orgy at Center Stage, Part 1

There are a lot of beautiful, sexy, and dynamic house dancers at strip clubs all around the country. I love them, I really do. They are very good at what they do and they make my night whenever I see them. But when a Porn Actress Feature Dancer comes out on stage you know that you are in the presence of a star. Beautiful beyond compare. Sexy in every definition of the word. And fearlessly confident. When it’s time for her stage show everything in the club stops. All eyes are on her. And she owns the club.

This was one of those nights. And for me it was an incredible night of voyeuristic sensory overload.

I made it into the club later than usual for me, just before midnight, and found my way to a seat near the stage. I was wondering when her show would begin when the stadium jam music from the DJ booth told me I was just in time. “Are you ready to rummmmble?” And, in the midst of flashing lights and the ritual recitation of the bio (films, TV, magazines) out came Dancer to start the show.

Wow. Ms. Kim Chambers – Porn Star – Dancer – in the flesh just a few feet from me. And what beautiful flesh it was. She had a rocking porn star body of course. An ample endowment. A big beautiful booty with a tasteful tattoo on her left cheek. Shaved for the stage with a natural blonde landing strip. All very, very sexy. But what really captivated me was how pretty she was. Her photos that I’ve seen don’t do her justice. This is a really beautiful woman. One of the prettiest women I’ve ever talked to in person. A pretty face. A gorgeous mane of layered blonde hair down to her shoulder blades. And eyes that light up and penetrate you. I know it sounds strange and silly, but when she looked at me several times throughout the night, I felt like she really was looking at me, not just at another anonymous crowd. And she had a vitality that said she was alive and confident and was going to enjoy this night of being therewith us.

Dancer‘s stage show was unique and entertaining for her 3 or 4 song set. She made her rounds at the tiprail of the elevated stage, first clad in her gold sequined flowing robe and eventually fully nude in a personal film preview. Acrobatic variations of hooking a customer’s head with her leg and bringing his head in for an up close and personal view of the goodies brought the crowd into play. Several lucky gentlemen got this treatment. And a few more got pulled on stage for a personal mini-porn riding, sans trousers, by Ms. Kim herself. After she de-pants’d them, she climbed on board for some simulated porn star cowgirl action. Lucky guys!

After she had her way with the hapless few, we moved on to the traditional merchandise giveaway songs, with a twist – the twist being a spirited game of “Booby Ball”. Carefully squeezing a shot glass between her sizeable breasts, and with said merchandise tucked conspicuously against her nether regions for extra seasoning, Dancer moved around the tiprail as a roving backboard. Wadded up singles were then tossed by the crowd at the shot glass, with the eventual winner awarded the merchandise – but not before getting the pulled-on-stage-pants-pulled-down cowgirl ride on stage. Lucky guys!

All in all, a fabulous stage show by a truly beautiful and sexy star.

I wanted to meet her, of course. If only for a moment of small talk at the merchandise booth after her show. I wanted to meet her. So I waited while she was off doing some private dances, and took some time to explore the club.

I sampled the house dancers in their stage sets. One main stage, clothed, and two satellite stages fully nude made up their rotation. As I said at the start, there are some very sexy house dancers at these clubs. Both naturally cute girls and bombshell exotic girls. A cute bleached blonde in hotpants and a cutoff sports jersey. A sexy sorority girl in a rope like dress that framed her tits in a bondage look. A hardbody blonde in the rubber nurses outfit. Wow, again. Spectacular. Quite a selection, about twenty dancers in all. I took some time to enjoy some of their work and to tip them as well. No touching at the tip rail, I observed, in this club. No breasts in your face. Just dancer dancing and an appreciative tip left in a pail on the edge of the stage.

I also took some time to observe the club scene and the crowd. Lots of guys standing around, a beer in hand. “No alcohol sold” the sign had said. BYOB. No waitresses on the floor, just lots of guys lugging in coolers. Some looking like they were on their way to drunk, and in a hurry. Lots of testosterone and military haircuts.

And girls. Not many, but a few civilian girls were in the club. I always notice civilian girls in a club, and I watched these girls and how they were enjoying the club.

There was a cute Buddy Girl, with a short blonde haircut and jeans and a midriff, sitting with her group of guy friends unobtrusively up in the corner. Almost hidden.

There were three college girl types, all with hair and hooded sweaters huddled at a table near stage center and sitting on their coolers.

There was an attractive couple, my age, enjoying the show. Couple-girl was an attractive girl, dressed sexily in a black lace bustier and black pants to set off her blonde hair, with an attractive smile and an attractive attitude about being in the club. She was enjoying the club and she was enjoying letting her guy enjoy the club. That’s rare, and I was envious, but I had fun watching them have fun.

And, most noticeably of all, there was the cutie standing by the stage. This girl was either the cutest civilian girl I’ve ever seen in a club, or was an off-duty dancer herself. I was guessing the latter. And everybody in the club new she was there. She was like a radiant sun, drawing everyone’s eyes. Why? Three reasons. First, she was cute. A very cute face, a summer tan, and big blonde curls pulled back in a pony tail with soft strands pulled down to frame her face. Very cute. She reminded me of Pamela Anderson’s little sister. In fact, I’ll call her Pammy. Second, she was hot. She wore form fitting Capri pants, with her tanned and toned belly exposed at the midriff and two tops - red over white - tied up at her breasts. She oozed sexy as she stood by the stage for the entire night with a beer in one hand, a cigarette in the other and a clutch purse held under her arm. And finally, she was offering herself up by the stage to get molested in turn by each dancer that came out on stage. She didn’t move much from her spot and she didn’t shy away from the attention. Each dancer took their pass at Pammy. Kissing her neck, feeling her up, licking her belly, dropping their head to her crotch, or pulling up her braless top to lick her nipples. Pammy got the full treatment each and every dancer, and she was enjoying it to the fullest. As were all of us guys, watching her enjoy it. I spent a considerable amount of time just watching Pammy, the civilian girl.

Until Dancer, the porn star, made it to the merchandise booth.

“This guy’s been waiting a while”, the bouncer / helper told her as he pointed to me. Kim looked at me with those penetrating eyes, and smiled that beautiful smile and asked me my name. Small talk ensued as I decided quickly on a DVD purchase over a signed Polaroid photo.

“I’d like the picture”, I said, “but where would I keep it?”

She recommended a DVD choice and pulled out the picture to sign it. As always, I was marveling at the situation. I’m standing in a semi-dark corner of a strip club with a semi-naked beautiful woman, and a star at that, standing next to me and signing a DVD for me. Unbelievable.

“Would you sign it to DanceFan”, I asked. Without missing a beat, she did.

“Are you staying for the next show?”

“Of course”, I said. “I’m here to see you.”

“Are you going to come up on stage with me next time?”, she asked.

“Hmmm. That sounds fun, but I’m here commando, and I wouldn’t want to get de-pants’d.”, I said laughing.

I left the booth, with my signed DVD. I took it out to my car, and returned to the club for two more of Dancer’s shows.

And the night just got better…

What are the Odds?

I'm traveling on business for a while.

There is a strip club within 10 miles of me.

There is a porn star Feature Dancer appearing there this week.

What are the odds that I'll find myself there by the end of the weekend?

If I were a betting man.....

Rock on Strippers

One of the benefits of traveling constantly is rental cars. I'm in a different car every week. Fun cars. Big cars. Always new cars.

This week I'm in a Pontiac G6. That's right. The Oprah car. I always love driving Pontiacs because I just think they are fun cars that fit me well. Grand Prix's are my favorites. But this G6 is right up there. Fun. Sporty. Comfortable. Okay, enough of the commercial.

The best part of the G6 from a rental perspective, by far, is the XM radio in the car. I love it. I go out driving at night just to listen to all of the channels available on XM. Probably heading for a strip club too, but you already knew that :)

I went through all of the music channels. Enjoyed that.

I made it through all of the talk channels. I especially like AmeriRight and AmeriLeft talk radio. Nonstop politics. I'm there. And I listen to both. As I sidenote, I find it hysterically funny that you have to press the right seek key to go from AmeriRight to AmeriLeft. The leftwing channel is to the right of the rightwing channel. I guess you have to be a political junkie to think that's funny.

Speaking of funny, I just found two comedy channels yesterday. Standup comedy and TV / radio comedy bits 24 hours a day. I've been driving down the road laughing my ass off since I found them.

Which brings me to tonight and Chris Rock. I was driving down the road when Rock came on with a bit about Strip Clubs and Strippers. It was the funniest thing I've heard in a long time. The man is a genius. I even arrived at my destination and stayed in my car laughing until the end of the routine.

I can't quote him exactly, but I'll try on a couple of his riffs:

On Strippers: " I'm not getting down on strippers. Somebody's got to do it. Somebody has to do the job that they do - entertaining married men. You're wife will do you, but she won't entertain you."

On the Stripper Myth: "You know the myth - 'I'm dancing to pay my college tuition'. No, you're not. What, is there a college in town that only accepts tuition in singles?"

On addicted buddies: "Every guy has a friend that is ADDICTED to strip clubs. Totally addicted. They even go in the daytime. Buddy, if you're in a strip club and the sun is out, you've got a problem."

There was more, and I was rolling. The man is a stone cold observational prodigy.

By the way, I'm guessing that I'm covering a lot of my friends as their addicted buddy.

Airborne Stripper Scent

As I’ve said here before, I love Stripper Scent. That ubiquitous and distinctive smell that I mentally associate with strippers on contact in the club and that immediately puts me in the strip club state of mind. That close-up smell of shimmery body powder that is ever present in the lapdance. I love it. And I experienced it again this week in an unexpected place – in flight.

It was another business trip. Another airport. Another round of the routine: arrival gates, food courts, departure gates.

People watching:

- the Silly Cute Girl in her fashionable Capri pants playing relentlessly with a Slinky in the food court
- the Pretentious Boy with his baggy pants and 3 hats: a beat up baseball cap, with a sweatshirthood pulled up over that, and a bright red cowboy hat perched on top of it all
- the Gadget Boys and their high tech toys. Laptops and Blackberrys and Bluetooth wireless headsets looking like crazy people talking to themselves as they pace relentlessly solving the pressing business issues of the world.

And one wildly inappropriately dressed hoochie-mama waiting at my gate for our flight. It was as if she was flying somewhere to dance and didn’t want to wait until she got to the club to dress. Big hair. Florescent top barely holding her in. Deliciously sexy midriff. Tantalizing lowrider pants. All of it screaming “sex!”. And her scent, that distinctive stripper scent, washing over me as she walked by.

Oh, my. She had my attention, as no one has had my attention in an airport in a long time. She was beautiful. Sexy. Exotic. And extremely desirable. And I desired her, big time. She was pacing, worried about the flight, and she passed by me each way. There it was each time. That scent! I was immediately transported back to the strip club. To the dimness. To the pounding music. To the erotic scene of several beautiful young girls moving through the room – prowling and flirting and working. And mostly, to the intimacy of the private dance and the closeness and the contact with a beautiful girl.

All from a scent. And a sexy girl.

I wanted to be with her, but had to settle for sitting 4 rows behind her and letting the blowing of the overhead air nozzles bring that scent back to me. Which it did, for the duration of the flight. It was pleasing. Reassuring. And arousing. Not that a hard-on on an airplane is particularly useful, but it broke the monotony of the flight. Forget the laptops and spreadsheets. I was lost in the sense memory of the club, courtesy of that scent, and in impure thoughts….

Thank you, my airborne dancer.

Transaction between Two Troubled Souls

There was an interesting post on Brighton's excellent blog ("A Day in the Night of a Stripper", link on my sidebar, or click here to see Kristin's post) this week - guest written by Brighton's friend Kristin. The post was about the emotional toll that stripping takes on a dancer.

Kristin's post was directed at us male customers. Not vindictively, just pleadingly. She wanted us to know that stripping wasn't a glamorous life and if they thought the dancer was having fun, they were mistaken. She had some interesting and insightful comments, which I'll excerpt in part here.

For example, Kristin's thoughts on drugging up to go on stage:

"What you don’t know is that a lot of strippers have to get HIGH before getting up on stage. Yeah, HIGH AS A KITE so they can mask the pain, shame and stigma stripping imparts. I’m pretty sure Brighton can back me up on this. The women might look like they are having fun up there but they aren’t. They aren’t sluts looking for a good time. A lot of them feel like whores and it’s just one step up for being a hooker. Most are stripping to pay for diapers, formula and let’s not forget the overdue electric bill. They aren’t there because they want to be famous or enjoy showing off their bodies to strangers. It’s about money, plain and simple. You are a means to an end and some women don’t have any other way to make good money and keep the bills paid. Don’t forget, having a drug habit costs money too. How sad to have to get high so you can have strange men fondle your body so you can pay the cable bill and pay for your drug habit. It disgusts me. It saddens me. It’s a vicious cycle. Those are the women in the upscale clubs. The women in the seedy clubs already come in with a habit and strip to make money to maintain that habit."

And her interview with a friend who had stripped to confirm that:

"K: Is substance abuse pervasive in the industry?
B: Yep. There are some nights that I had wished to God I was stoned.
K: Because of how you were treated?
B: Partly and partly because I was so disgusted with myself. I knew what I needed to do to get through school. A private university education don’t come cheap, let me tell you. Not to mention several year of grad school. I had a future. Most of those girls were dead end. No life, bad choices, shitty men in their lives, little or no family. *she trailed off and looked away*
K: I’m so sorry.
B: It’s ok, I made the choice to strip.
K: What choice? Quit school and get a half assed job to support yourself and never realize your dreams because of a horrible twist of fate? That’s not a choice in my book. You did what you had to do. I don’t condemn you for that."

Finally, her friend's thoughts on paying her way through college by stripping:

"K: Was it worth it? *I asked as we returned to her office*
B: Stripping? *she looked around her office* Yeah, it was. It made my dream come true. I was one of the lucky ones."

All interesting, no doubt.

Being that I am a regular strip club patron, and thus one of the guys that Kristin is talking to, let me add my observations.

1. I have obviously seen the toll that stripping can take on a dancer. In person, in the flesh. I say "can", because I think she's painting with too broad a brush and there are girls with their head on straight out there like Brighton. Most of the dancers that I've written about here on DanceFan fit that category. But there are those it takes a toll on clearly. I remember specific conversations at tables with girls who told me that they just can't take the soul-killing nature of their job anymore. And if that's spilling over to me, as a customer, then it's serious and real.

2. I know that the majority of dance encounters that they have can be negative experiences. A lot of guys in the club are either outright jerks or are abusive. Dancers have to fend off inappropriate behavior a lot. I know that. I try to be the customer that they can feel safe with and look forward to seeing come in. But I know from comments that these lovely young girls have to deal with a lot that they shouldn't have to in order to do their job. It's a tough job.

3. I know that girls get drawn into fortifying themselves with various forms of chemical bravery to get through the night. I've seen my share of tipsy and high girls. And they didn't start that way on the first night they walked into the club. It's part of the club life that they adopt.

All in all, it's not ideal.

However, here's what I also think:

- I may be wrong, but it seems to me that some of the girls, some of the time, are having fun.

- It is a job. Kristin bemoans, understandably, the fact the some girls have no other options to pay the bills or get an education to get a good job.

So, my observation is that it's important to not overlook the fact that it is an option. What's the alternative? That they have no option at all? Isn't it, in some sense, a good thing that men willing to pay for this experience provide an entire industry that provides women an option?

And guess what? People make choices all the times to do jobs that don't fulfill them or that are a hardship on them. I'm a businessman that travels every week away from my family. Do you think that doesn't take a toll? Do you think that the guy who's operating a machine in a factory every day is having a lot of fun or doesn't want to drink his way through the day. It's a fact of life. You find the best job that you have options to get and you make do with the toll it takes on you. That's life.

- It takes a toll, but not just on the dancer. Many lapdances, if not most and my own included, are in my opinion a transaction between two troubled souls, not just one.

Interesting post, Kristin. Food for thought. You hopefully started a good dialogue on the topic. Thanks for writing it.

Anyone else have thoughts on this?

Simple Pleasures

I love....

the swish, swish, swish of a pretty girl's hips

and sun dresses, which I'm starting to see pop out again. Thank goodness.

Toy Man

I was conversing with a dear virtual friend tonight when the topic of sex toys came up. I'll just say that she is a woman dearly in need of some sex toy pleasure. Not suprisingly, she doesn't own any and asked for some enlightment.

Now, I'm a guy but I've spent many hours shopping for sex toys. Many hours. I shop with the intention of pleasing my partner and I am a man of variety. I've bought them all. (Someday we'll have to talk about the backpack I have tucked away that contains a variety of high quality red leather restraints and lenths of cotton rope. Someday.) So I was able to offer some basic, beginner, advice. Here's what I told her:

Two things come to mind:

1. Where to buy them - I can't see you walking into an adult book store, where they sell all varieties of toys, by yourself. And I'm not there to give you a guided tour, which would be very much fun.

So, either you have to buy something off the internet or find a different type of store that sells them.

I'd start with the yellow pages under either "Lingerie" or "Novelties". Some lingerie stores, not the Victoria's Secret kind, have a back area with toys. And the sales staff is very helpful. Usually ladies working in there who will get you through any embarrassment. Just make a joke out of it and they'll joke back and help you. Other type of stores sell them as novelties. We have a store in my town that sells birthday supplies in the front and "Adult toys and oils" in the back.

2. What to buy: two types -

Vibrator style. There are three basic types you should think about:

- small pocket rocket or mini vibe. Looks like a tube of lipstick, with a vibrating head. More powerful than they look.

- Basic penis shaped. You can get them in solid, gel feel, or even natural skin feel. With or without vibration.

- Rabbit. the ultimate vibrator. It has a gel penis shaped tip, with rotating beads in the shaft for motion, and a clit stimulator extension. Probably takes some practice, but it's the ultimate machine.

Massager style. I recommend the Conair Toch and Tone style massager. It has a handgrip and a 90 degree extension with accessory heads. Easy to hold. Way powerful. It works. You can get one at any Walgreen's drugstore for $10, no questions asked. (Click here for picture.)

You asked! :)


Enjoy, my dear friend. I'll be waiting for a progress report.

Anybody else want to jump in with advice for my friend?

Land of the Towering Blondes

It was her eyes that surprised me. Or, more precisely, her eye level. It's not often that I'm standing next to a beautiful stripper that's at eye level with me. Not often.

Okay, it was her eyes as well. Beautiful and sexily made up behind her narrow school teacher glasses. Hot. Dancer was impressive. A Towering Blonde with a pony tail and a rail thin body. Young and pretty. Think a 6'1" Jessic* Simps*n. And she was a surprise that night.

It was a new city and I was in need of a new club.

Research, that was the answer. The yellow pages had failed to turn up any promising prospects, so it was off to the web for some sleuthing. Soon I had not only found a selection of clubs but also reviews of the clubs by customers. That should be helpful I thought. After trolling through the information, I had settled on two possible clubs. The reviews for one indicated that it was absolutely the place to go in town for the beautiful girls. The other was dicier. The reviews were not good and indicated that the club was falling apart. I'm going with the first one. So with a little bit of skillful navigation on unfamiliar roads in some bad parts of town, I found it. And guess what? The second club was right across the street. Nice, maybe I'll check them both out.

I pay a steep cover charge at the "good" club and I was in. Promising, I thought, on first glance. But looks can be deceiving and this time I was deceived. It didn't take long to figure out that the club was both lame and dead. A scattering of customers. A scattering of dancers. Pretty, but not really grabbing me. Ten minutes later I cut my losses at just the cover charge and headed out the door.

It was still fairly early, so I decided to poke my head into the club with the bad reviews and just to rule it out and get it off the map. A lighter cover at this club, and I'm in.

Goldmine!

Beautiful dancers everywhere, including Dancer who was doing her stage set. I found a table, but quickly moved up to stand next to the stage to tip her. Dancer smiled, came over to me, and put on quite a show. A pole dance with her back and small firm derriere in my face. Up against me, facing away, with her head leaned back on my shoulder. And then upon me, towering over me, with a long lingering embrace - rubbing each nipple lovingly on my nose.

"My private dances are awesome", she breathed into my ear with a hot sexy voice.

"Come find me", I answer back and move back to my table.

Next dancer. Awesome! Another towering blonde, pony tail, and rail thin. Twin barbies. Back to back. Another round at the tiprail. A beautiful girl in tight black leather hotpants, high cut on the hip, that ride deliciously up molded to the cheeks of her delicious ass. Sexy.

Where was Dancer?

Back on stage, another towering blonde. Another pony tail. Another delectable ass. A perfect ass in fact, displayed for me on all fours at close range. Where are they getting these girls?

Where was Dancer?

Across the club I observe 3 other dancers hitting on a group of men for table dances. All tall. All blonde. All pony tails. Amazing.

Ahhhh, here's Dancer. She finds me and plops on my lap for a talk. She's chatty - about her age, 21, and her schooling at the local college. She's flirty. She's tipsy, too, it becomes apparent. Charmingly tipsy. Let's go dance.

It was a nice private dance. Not awesome, but completely acceptable and memorable. Dancer towered over me as I settled in on the couch. A few rules, including touch, are exchanged. "I'm a gentleman", I explain to ease her worries. Dancer does a slow strip tease in front of me as the song begins, in our very private little booth. Very sexy. She settles in on her knees in between my legs and does a slow circle over me with her hair grazing my crotch. Very nice. "That belt is hot", she says as she looks up at me. Hearing that, and looking back at this lovely girl in a sexy pose in front of me I'm reminded of P*ris Hilton. And then she straddles me for some close contact. Light contact by her. Light touching by me. Her skin amazing to the touch, my fingertips alive. Delighting in the smooth taut skin on her hips at the small of her back. Amazing.

We pause to chat outside of our little booth about her schedule for the week. That's when I notice her eye level. And her eyes. Beautiful.

Thank you, Dancer. And thank you to the rest of the Towering Blondes.

Man, I Love Morning Sex

And, to quote Tom Hanks in the movie "Bachelor Party":

"If she can still walk then I don't know my business".

Jumped

The Mrs. is jumping my bones on a regular basis now. Not that I'm complaining :) It's a good way to start a Saturday.

No details, other than to say that it included a humor break when a certain rugrat decided to ring the doorbell to get Mom and Dad's attention. He is so grounded.

"Bombshell" Defined

In my last post about a pornstar Feature Dancer I mentioned that she was "cute, but not a bombshell". Reader JeN left me a comment to ask:

"She's cute but not a bombshell. For you, what makes a woman a "bombshell"?

Good question. Let me try to answer that.

First let me say that my comment was not intended to express a preference of "cute" over "bombshell" or vice versa. It is a descriptive comment only. As I tell my stories here of my time spent in the clubs I try to be descriptive to help set the scene. To paint a word picture, as such, to help you relate to my experience. In fact, I've had nice time in the strip clubs with "cute" girls and "bombshell" girls alike.

Since the post that the "bombshell" reference was in was about a porn star who was a Feature Dancer that night, let me start my definition of the word "bombshell" within the porn context. If you've watched a fair amount of porn, you can probably follow me here. Most of the high profile porn girls are what I would put in the "bombshell" category. Jenna Jameson. Brianna Banks. Tera Patrick. Kobe Tai. We're talking dolled-up wonder girls who have had significant plastic surgery to enhance their natural attributes. Which is fine by me. They're very hot. Again, I'm only being descriptive - not expressing a preference.

There is an equally talented, but probably less well known, category of porn girls who go with what nature gave them and rely on cuteness and talent alone. All three of the porn star Feature Dancers that I've written about here fall into that category: Felecial, Inari Vachs, Stephanie Swift. Again, fine by me. They are very cute and very talented and very hot as well.

I could illustrate the difference if you could see some of the very first magazine photos of Jenna Jameson, before she became the "bombshell"'d up mega star that she is today. The early version "cute". The current version "bombshell". Both hot.

The same dichotomy applies in stripper world, at least by my observation. There are strippers that are "cute" and natural and talented. There are strippers that are all "strippered up" and in the bombshell category. Also talented. Plastic surgery. Great outfits. Mega tans. All of that. Again, I'm just being descriptive - not expressing a preference.

I will make two observations though:

1. I'm would guess that there is some difference in the ability to make good bank in the "bombshell" category than in the "cute" category. It's why the "cute" girls are saving their money for some surgery in a lot of cases. However, I could easily be wrong on that. I'm sure there are some "cute" girls in the "unobtainable" category who make good bank as well.

2. Most of the dancers that I've written about here are in the "cute" category. So, maybe I do have a personal preference.

That's my thoughts.

Anyone else have a thought on this topic? Dancers - speak up.