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| Blogs > lionthatroared > Roaring from the Lion |
I Get Lucky In The Oddest Ways.
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I Get Lucky In The Oddest Ways. I did a "first" last night... I took my 18-year-old to his first strip club. He had a lot of fun, and I think I may have opened his eyes a little to women and sexuality. I was smart about it, I was teaching him what to do and how to be polite and nice to the dancers. My best friend went with us... Bob and I eased him into it. He got several lap dances (so did Bob and I. ), and we had a lot of fun. But this post isn't about my discovering how awesome it is having a beautiful woman dancing sexy for you and rubbing her boobs in your face. This is about what happened to me. I have amazing luck with strippers. I have no idea why. I don't hit on them or anything, I just treat them like I do everyone else. When a dancer is dancing for me, I treat her like I would a girlfriend... tenderly, gently, sensually, and as if she's the only woman on the planet at that moment. When one sits down in the club and talks to me, I just be myself. But apparently... being myself works very well in strip clubs. I have NEVER left a strip club without hooking up with one of the dancers. Ever. Either I walk away with a phone number, or a date, or the two of us go off somewhere private for a little tryst, or something along those lines. Every single time. Last night was no exception... here's what happened. We walk into the club, and it's pretty slow... we got there pretty early. Bob couldn't stay past 10pm, and since the club was nearly an hour and a half away (I took my to Centerfolds in Rancho Cordova, easily the nicest strip club in Northern CA), so we got there roughly at 6:30pm. Bob and I like to pace ourselves, and we taught my to do the same... wait and watch, look for the dancers that really catch your eye, spend your money wisely, and spread out the dancing unless you just find one you really click with. So I was somewhat surprised at myself when Bettie walked up on us as we were sitting down. Now, normal response for me is, even if she's super-hot, tell her to come back later once we're settled. Rule #1: Watch and Wait. But Bettie caught my eye, mostly because she looked a lot like (and named herself after) Bettie Paige, the pin-up model from back in the day. Not your typical bean-pole dancer, but not heavy at all... she had some heft to her, but it was sexy-heft, not flabby-heft (you know what I mean?). She had lovely hair, great breasts, and a very friendly smile. We chatted, and I broke Rule #1... I went with her within the first minute of sitting down. I don't regret breaking that rule for an instant. Bettie and I kept chatting, even while she danced for me (it was a touch-dance, so that was even better... holy cow, she was hot). At one point, the dance stopped being a dance, and it got very slow and intimate. It was obvious that this wasn't a dance anymore... it had become a seduction, and I'm not really sure who was seducing whom. I'll tell you this, though... she broke a cardinal rule: she kissed me. I kissed her back, it was intense. She suddenly broke away, looking incredibly embarrassed. "Oh God, I could get in a lot of trouble for that!" she said. No one was looking, though, and if anyone had been watching in the hidden cameras that are all over that VIP room, no one said anything that I'm aware of. She also smiled afterwards and said, "Oh, who cares? It was worth it. Are you single?" After the dance, she went back to the table with me, and we kept talking. To my surprise, she told me her real name very early on... something a dancer usually keeps to herself unless she really trusts someone. A half-hour later, we were still chatting and getting along famously. It turned out we both really liked karaoke, and she liked to sing in my town! She commuted over an hour to sing in Manteca, go figure. We exchanged , and I have a date with her on the 19th for a karaoke party. Bettie got off work a little while later, and she stayed with us for a while just hanging out. It was awesome. Bob, who knows very well my amazing luck with strippers, watched as Bettie left the club with a smile and a wave. We looked at each other, smiled, he shook his head, and said, "How the hell do you DO that?" Beats me. I'm not nearly that good anywhere else. But I'm not done. We hang out for another couple of hours, watching the dancers, talking, occasionally getting lap dances, and just having fun. There's one dancer who had been gettng monopolized by a guy since we'd come in, and she was incredibly beautiful. I kept an eye out for when she finally got free, but the guy kept her attention for a good hour or more, buying her drinks and getting dances. I couldn't blame him... she was really cute. It wasn't until her turn came to dance onstage that the guy finally left her alone. She actually looked relieved, even if her clutch-purse was bulging with cash from the guy. Her name was Jocelyn, and "smokin' hot" would be an understatement for her. To my amazement, this woman who looked to be in her mid-twenties was actually 37... very much within my typical dating age! I think she had seen I was keeping an eye open for her to be free, because once she was done dancing onstage, she made a beeline for our table. I took her offer up in a second. Again, we chatted on the way there and a little at the beginning of the dance. That's sort of my usual way. But as the dance progressed, talking stopped. It got hot. Really, really hot. Now, in my entire life, I've never spent more than $80 on a single dancer. Even Jade, an extremely hot dancer in Michigan that I met during Bob's bachelor party, whom I hooked up with later, whom had the best hair I've ever felt on any woman anywhere and a body that made the other guys at my table actually drop jaws... even she didn't manage to get more than $80 out of me. I am usually pretty good about casting my net wide on dancers. Jocelyn shattered that record completely. I won't tell you how much money I spent. It's a little embarrassing. Let's just say I started with a fair amount, and had to go to the ATM later. I'll leave it at that. But I will say this... money WELL spent. Jocelyn and I both seriously got into it. I can usually tell when a stripper is just moaning and squirming as part of the dance, and when it's real... Jocelyn started with the fake, and progressed quickly into real. She was touching me in all the right places, and at multiple points she went way farther on me than she was supposed to. She let me go MUCH farther on her than she was supposed to, too. Towards the end, the dance had progressed into less of a dance and more of a<b> mutual masturbation </font></b>as both of us got very caught up in the moment. I felt her orgasm on top of me with a shuddering half-moan, half-squeal, and she lost her balance and fell on top of me. I caught her, she didn't get hurt, but she looked a little flustered and embarrassed. I'm paraphrasing a little here, because I was a little lost in the moment myself, but she said something like this: "Wow, that doesn't happen often to me in here." she said. "God, I feel like I should be paying you. That was hot!" I'd pretty much run out of money by that point (again... SOOOO worth it), but she didn't want to stop. She looked around like she didn't want to be seen, and said "Look, I can't dance with you without getting paid, they keep track on the cameras. But do you want to sit in the main room and talk for a while? We can play a little there." Uhhh.... can I get a Hell Yeah? For the next half-hour, I became the guy monopolizing Jocelyn... only I wasn't paying her a cent. We talked about her other job (she's into real estate) and my job, we talked about our , and we held hands and touched knees and pretty much everything else we could touch. She also told me her real name, which by that point wasn't too surprising. We exchanged , and... that's when she dropped the bomb: "I'd love to see you, but I'm kind of dating a guy right now." Awww... damn it! Any guy who's been to a strip club knows that line. It's a fact that many exotic dancers have boyfriends and husbands, so it's not usual that this kind of thing comes up... but it's also a line they use to fend off horny guys thinking to get laid. Now, she gave me a real number (I sent her mine by phoning her cell), and we really hit it off well, so I'm going to go on the assumption that it wasn't the brush-off line, but a genuine regret. And she also followed up with "If things don't work out, though... I'll call you." Hmmm. Well, we'll see. I'll text her every so often to keep my memory fresh in her mind, and we'll see what happens. The worst that happens is nothing. The best that happens is I end up with easily one of the most beautiful and sexiest women I've ever imagined. Where is the downside in this scenario? So... that was my night. Stephen had dances until he ran out of his own money and the money I gave him. Bob enjoyed himself, then went home and ravaged his wife. I dropped Stephen off and paid a visit to my FWB, who was awake, waiting, and more than willing to work off this tension I'd found myself with. And yes, she knows about my getting two . We're friends. It's cool. All in all, one of the best nights I've had in... well, ever. Fantastic FWB sex, hot strippers rubbing themselves all over me, two potential prospects for dating with incredibly beautiful women, great quality time with my ... yeah, best money ever spent. I'd spend it again. Huh. Maybe I need to spend more time in strip clubs...? . Your Friendly Neighborhood King of the Jungle, The Lion. READ THIS! ------>>>lionthatroared I DARE you to read my blog and attempt to be unchanged by sheer, utter AWESOMENESS!!! It's like Kung-Fu Panda fighting Super Models with heavy metal music pumping in the background... hyped up on Rockstar energy drinks! And... whipped cream with chocolate sprinkles! And... laser-guided sex toys are probably involved! And... and... oh, I know... I'm pretty sure Chuck Norris roundhouse-kicked it at some point! |
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