K is a tall black woman, probably mid-twenties. She was on stage when I entered the club last Saturday. The bar was kind of crowded so I just sat near the stage knowing a waitress would come by eventually. She came over just as I was sidling up to meet K. I hurriedly paid for my tonic and lime and sat at the stage.
There weren’t too many customers around the main part of the club so K came right over to pay me some attention. She was nicely shaped, not too skinny but not overweight either. Let’s say there was some meat on her bones (but nicely distributed). Her gold chains banged against her medium-sized, but heavy tits and she got on all fours in front of me. She dropped her bra so she could mush herself into my face before sitting on the edge of the stage with her knees on either side of my head inviting me to run my fingers all over.
This would have been enough for me to ask her for a private dance but she sealed the deal with a rather unique move. She hooked the toe of one of her stiletto heels under my crotch and, finding the right spot, she stroked behind my balls with her toe to harden up the base of my cock. That was my sign that she knew what boys like in the private booths.
We sat in a booth waiting for the next full song to start. At first we sat together with her hand on my thigh, but another dance poked her head in saying she was missing her costume. K said she hadn’t seen it and then kind of curled up with her feet on the seat and her arms folded over her knees. I tried not to read between the lines.
She was still friendly however. She asked if I lived in town and then talked a little about how a lot of men came down from the big city because there was no action in that state’s clubs. I told her about the
club I went to up there where you could get a hand job under the table for the right price. She said You get what you pay for. She said she was only working as a dancer for a few more months - she was about to graduate from a local college with a degree in radiology. Luckily it’s been a while since I had anything to do with that college so I wasn’t afraid of getting recognized.
The song started and K went to work. She had only a couple of moves but they were effective. She faced me getting everything straightened out with her knee and offering those heavy, juicy, brown grapefruit tits to me to squeeze and to suck on her hard nipples. She slid down my torso and very discretely (there were others in the booths) worked on my cock through my pants. She hid herself with her long thick black hair and used the fingers on both hands to stroke me. She then got up and turned around, strategically wrapping my cock in her ass crack and continued the up and down with her pelvis. She had very nice dimples on above her cheeks on either side of her backbone and her boobs hung down for more fondling.
She turned around again for more hand action & this time I thought she was going to take my story to heart and unbuckle me for a hand job. Instead, she tucked a couple fingers inside my pants and played with my little head for a bit. Needless to say I was on the edge. I went over the edge when she went back to stroking me with her ass cheeks. I was helping her by grabbing her hips and directing her movement, feeling her vice grip just as if I were doing the deed for real.
On my way out I saw the waitress who gave me my drink and I stuck a bill in her hand saying I forgot to tip her earlier. She was pleasantly surprised. Even though it was chilly out I walked with my jacket open and my hat off to take one of Ben Franklin’s air baths to reduce the perfume and cigarette smell before I got home. I also stopped at the pet store for some terrarium supplies and hung around there a little bit to absorb some of the cedar chip and pet food smells to mask any lingering bar residue. I reached home without incident.
Labels: strip clubs
