False alarm

I had some minor surgery so I had to take it easy at home for a while. The recovery was short but I took some extra sick time from work because I could. I did take things easy which was boring as hell - plus I have very little opportunity to do the things I really like to do.

I was actually able to get out today, but it was kind of a bust (so to speak). I bussed it downtown in the middle of the afternoon and snuck into my bikini bar. There were only three dancers and a lot of men. I plopped my drink at a table and went up to the stage to meet D, a curly-headed brunette with small natural tits and a nicely shaped fleshy pelvis. She sat down in front of me and wriggled her pussy in my face. She didn’t object when I gave her clit a good rubbing with my nose and chin. She squeezed her tits on either side of my face, pulled her top aside and offered me her nipples to nip. I should have asked her for a private dance then – I had the makings of growing hard on. But after her set she sat at the bar with a regular.

Next was a tall blonde with short frizzy hair bigger tits and a plump pussy. B was a little standoffish but she liked to lean back and pull her white thong tight to outline her mound. For looking only. She did try to do the GFE thing and nuzzle in and breathe in my ear and she did take my glasses off and rub her boobs in my face but there was no real spark for me. She went off with another apparent regular, a guy with greasy black hair and beard and a big pot belly who had spent most of B’s set slouching in a chair along a wall, leering at the stage, and opening and closing his legs rhythmically. I don’t see much of a bulge - I guess his penis pump wasn’t working that day.

It wasn’t looking good for me to get off today. I was running out of my budgeted time but I waited for the next dancer just for a little rush and a test drive in case I see her again. G looked very Mediterranean with straight black hair pulled back and olive complexion (I assumed it was olive – hard to tell under black light). She wore a tiny stripper skirt – plaid material that came about halfway down her ass. She had a nice trick of sticking her pussy in front of my face and fanning with the skirt. Luckily it was a clean smell. Her pheromone flash had its effect though and I wished I could stay longer.

It turns out I had plenty of time. I got home with an hour to spare. I will probably have another chance later this week. Hopefully I’ll have more exciting news

Surgical strike

Because of family and health-related matters lately I can't do as much extracurricular activity (or as much blogging for that matter) as I'd like to. I'll have to continue to rely on memories. Even the trips I remember were taken under time constraints also. This fondly remembered foray into the dark side comes to mind.

An impromptu plan on a Saturday gave me an opportunity for s strip club visit. I offered to do the grocery shopping so I could also return some library materials downtown. The library is about a block away from one of my haunts, a bikini bar tucked away on a side street. I figured I could pad my itinerary by about a half hour - about as long as I could make up excuses for.

I dropped off the stuff at the library and went around the block and slipped in the door. There were only a couple of customers and it seemed exceptionally dark. I got a soda and went right to the stage. A, the Indian woman (dot, not feather) from my last trip there was dancing. I sat down and she came over, knelt down and put her head down and rubbed my crotch. She straightened up and rubbed her tits in my face. Then she sat up and put her legs on either side of my head and pulled my face into her crotch. I gave her clit a bit of a nose job through her thong. Then, leaning in close to my ear she gave me the pitch I knew was coming: "Wanna come play with me? I'll make you come real hard."

I am usually put off by the direct approach, but in the interest of time (and with the memory of her last dance with me) I readily agreed. And the timing was right - she was just leaving the stage and we went right into the empty private dance area where it was
even darker that the main room.

We embraced and she grabbed my crotch and started fondling and stroking. We almost kissed but remembered the unspoken rule between sex workers and their clients. She moved me over to a couch as sat me down on the edge. She got her knee working to straighten things out in my pants as I ran my hands up her side and over her tits. It's a bikini bar (not zoned for topless) but she was flaunting the rules. I had to be careful I didn't catch my finger in her nipple ring.

After the preliminaries she began in earnest, alternating between facing me and working her pussy against my cock and facing away and running her ass crack up and down my shaft. She has a tight little body with fleshy, fruit cup sized tits and a pear-shaped ass to die for, and my hands roamed whereI wanted. (I didn't test her on dipping my fingers in
the pot as I have with other dancers. Maybe next time.)

The pressure with her grinding was a little heavy at first but lightened up as she went along. I had to stop her from biting my neck. I don't know if she was getting carried away or just wanted to leave a mark for my assumed wife/girlfriend to see. When she could,
she leaned in and breathed in my ear and down my neck.

It was non stop stroking with her ass and crotch and as her touch became lighter and lighter I lost it. She was right, I came real hard. It took me a couple minutes to catch my breath and I agreed to her request for a big tip (I would have anyway). Luckily she
didn't remember me from last time I saw her, so she just said to be sure to come back to visit her. In a daze, I said yes. She went off and I took a minute to straighten myself out and finish my soda. I left the bar and checked my watch. 20 minutes. Plenty of time
to finsh my errands and get home in reasonable time.

Broken promises

I promised myself that I would take part in the local sex trade when I traveled. I'm just back from my third trip this year and I wasn't able to keep the promise. For me to get into a strip club or massage parlor I have to have the time, the opportunity and the money. All three have to line up. During my first trip in May to a Midwest suburb I had no time to escape the conference I was attending. In June I was in Florida so I combined business and vacation and my wife joined me. Certainly no opportunity there. Those trips made me broke for my August trek to a mad midwestern city (crazy, not angry). It was a little frustrating last week because I had a memorable experience there last year. I'll just have to rely on my memory.

I was attending a conference with a bunch of colleagues. Friday night the conference dinner and keynote speech ended about 9. I called home to check in & left a voice mail saying I’d call back later. I figured I could run out for an hour & not be missed. I knew the local strip club was lame but the world sex guide gave good reviews for the massage parlor in town..

I walked around the block so I wouldn't have to pass by the upscale diners on the sidewalk and slipped into the doorway between two bars. The stairs were gray and squishy and felt like they were covered with duct tape. At the top was a wrought iron full-length gate that served as a door. Inside two women in negligee let me in. they asked me the question I knew was coming (from the sex guide), 'have you been here before?' I said yes since apparently they charge more for newcomers. I paid a college age guy for a massage (nice job for him) and got to pick one of the two women there. I chose M since she seemed like the friendlier of the two.

M led me down a hall and into a dimly lit room with a small bed and a couch and artsy illustrations of models on the wall. She was tall with short hair, a slim figure and very large natural tits. Within a few minutes I knew that she was 44 years old, smarter than I think and an amateur storm chaser. She was looking forward to her Saturday off when there were tornado watches being posted. She gave me a towel and showed me where the shower was.

After my shower she came into the room again and asked what I was interested in. I told her just a massage and a hand job, paid her 'tip' and lay face down on the bed. She kept chatting in a soft voice as she removed her slinky black top and rolled down her panties and stockings. She said he almost became a model when she was younger - she had the face, weight and figure for it except for the big boobs. She was told to "lose 'em" if she wanted a modeling career. She refused and ended up with just a few headshots and cleavage photo jobs. She’s been working there for 18 years.

The backrub wasn't half bad - it went a long way towards relaxing me after being 'on' for 12 hours at the conference. After a few minutes I rolled on my back and she teased me with her fingers all around as her voice started trailing off. She rubbed more oil on her hands and started a slow stroke while I caressed her tits. She was quiet and quite expert at this (obviously) and offered me her pussy to play with as I came closer to climax. It was a very satisfying release of tension.

She let me zone out while she got a wet towel for me to clean up with. We got dressed and she continued her monologue. On the way out we both stopped to look at the TV weather forecast. Tornado watch - she was excited but thought the weather guy was covering his bets. I walked back to the hotel and called home. Everything was cool. I went to sleep and resumed my pose as productive member of society.