Speaking of red states...

I was reminded of my trip to a southern state long before this last election season, and since I was in a city and not travelling the rural countryside, I suspect the 'moral values' I experienced were not the ones on display on pundit TV recently. I was able to find to find safe haven to exercise my secular values that gave my northern sensibilities some comfort.

At the conference I was attending there was a lot of propaganda about the New South - a south that has come to grips with its slave-owning past and has created a competitive economic environment. After this election, I'm not so sure about that, at least about the slavery part. I did see signs of modernism in the city, but I couldn't figure why the skyscraper-lined streets were deserted at 5pm on a weekday. Maybe the whole place is just a Disney movie set.

Anyway, I did my homework beforehand to find out about the strip club scene there. I didn't expect much because it is the south, but then again, it's also NASCAR country. Sources on the Internet said most clubs were pretty lame, but a couple got good reviews and sounded promising. I was staying in the downtown area, called Uptown, that's bounded by 4 highways. It turns out that one of the clubs that got a good review was right across the highway and just a ten-minute walk from my hotel. So on a late Thursday afternoon I walked to the club in the pouring rain (they got about 7 inches that week) just to check it out. I had only a short time so I figured I'd see what it was like and go back if it seemed promising.

Interesting club - dark with lots of mirrors and purple neon lights around the top of the stage which snaked itself down the center of the room. There were booths in the dark corners around the room and tables near the stage. There were almost no customers in the place (the rain). I sat in a booth with a drink and within a few minutes L came over and introduced herself. She was a short Phillipina with very long thin hair and was very friendly. We talked for a bit and she gave me the lowdown on dances - either there at the table (air dance) or upstairs for more privacy (and more money). I figured I'd try one 'private' dance and come back the next day if I liked it.

We cuddled and talked a little dirty in a very dark corner upstairs for a while before the next song started. She joked about my big package (how would she know?) and said she had a big package too. That I could tell because there was quite a bulge in her tight little thong. I don't know if it's a trend but she was the first of several dancers in the next couple of months who asked me if I was married. I told the truth since I was far from home. She didn't mind.

The dance started and things were very promising. She was very sexy and knew how to bring things up. Time was short and I stopped at one dance. I assured her I would be back the next day before her shift was over. I don't think she believed me.

Friday I was back but I didn't see her at first. I talked for a bit with B, a typical southern girl with a heavy drawl and heavy tits and got a table (air) dance with D, a tiny girl-next-door type with nipple rings. Then Lisa came out and was surprised that I actually showed up. I bought her a vodka tonic and we retired upstairs.

More cuddling and talking. When the song started she slowly stripped off her bra and provocatively came closer, nibbling on my neck, stroking my shoulders, back and chest and breathing heavily in my ear. She used her knee very effectively to straighten my package out and knelt down pretending to blow me. Her head discretely rubbed up and down my shaft.

She straddled me with her long sweet-smelling hair covering my face and I naturally grabbed her ass and positioned her in just the right spot when the bouncer came over and said something to her. Apparently this city's rules say that only the dancer can initiate contact - I had to keep my hands to myself. Damn. I forgot I wasn't up north. She turned around with her pear-shaped ass wiggling and pushing my cock to near eruption. She leaned back with her head next to mine and I looked down over her two perfect tits with the nipples standing at attention. It was all I could do to keep from running my hands up her side to fondle and squeeze her or to reach down for a fistful of her pussy like I could have in my home town. Southern rules suck.

She repeated her moves until I couldn't take it any longer and I blew my load. It was a memorable dance and I still think back on it when I have a little time to myself. We cuddled a little more and I agreed to buy her another drink downstairs. As she sat on my lap she said she was meeting a friend, another dancer, & they were going out drinking after her shift. I really wanted to invite myself (what a fantasy generator - partying with two strippers; who knows where that could lead) but she said earlier she never accepts invitations from customers. Her shift was about over but she got me to buy her yet another drink. Maybe that was the time to invite myself out with her. Oh well - another city, another strip joint, another fantasy for my memory files.