Back in the swing of things

One of the busy times at work just ended and I took a few vacation days to decompress. I haven’t had much time for blogging, either reading or writing. It’s nice having time to myself on a weekday when everyone else is off doing their workday thing. On Monday I had an extra chunk of time to visit my regular bikini bar.

There has been a lot of Internet forum talk of the club’s new time clock used to count the private dances. After an initial fury about getting ripped off, things have settled down. I would just have to see for myself.

It was hot and steamy and the downtown streets were deserted just after lunch time. I slipped in and got used to the dark sitting at the bar. When I felt I could make my way to the stage without tripping I sat at one end and watched a rather large dancer in a flowing chiffon robe over her bikini. O wasn’t fat, just ‘big-boned.’ The place was virtually empty so she came over and said hello as she did some yoga stretching, bringing her foot behind her head and left her pussy lips bulging out of her thong. She sat on the edge of the stage with her feet on my chair, leaned over, pulled down her top and wrapped her rather ample and firm tits around my face. She stayed there for a while, rolling them around with her hands and letting me discreetly run my hands up her side to caress her, all the while covered in chiffon and perfume. O left and came back with the same routine but she kept making little jokes and destroying any mood she was creating with the tit tent.

The next dancer was a black woman named D who was about the same size as the previous dancer. (I have no problem with big women. I just remember one time a while ago I had a dance with a heavy woman whom I think I insulted when she first sat on my lap – she forced all the air out of me in a big grunt [I am pretty thin]. The rest of the song she gave me an air dance with a scowl on her face.) D had a very similar routine as O, rolling her tits around on my face, but she seemed more interested in the songs they were playing than in drumming up business for a private dance.

Next came S, a short, thin, dark-skinned woman who wore a tiger-striped one-piece bathing suit that was tight everywhere except around her pelvis. She said she was a ‘bad girl’ which peaked my interest. She pulled down her top to reveal small deflated breasts. There was some flesh at the bottom of each, but the skin on top seemed to rest against her chest. Her nipples were large and firm though (I found out later) and she played much more to her strength – her ass and pussy. She made sure her crouch spent a lot of time near my face and even pulled aside her suit to reveal a hairy pussy with lots of lip hanging out. She let my hands roam up and down her legs and ass and didn’t object when I ran my fingers over her mound and clit through the fabric. “You like to touch!” she said and added, “I do too.” She asked my nationality & only had a laugh when I said I was Irish. She said she was Cape Verdean and Italian, and again a ‘bad girl.’

We agreed on a private dance. When she was collecting her stuff, I saw G come on stage and regretted not waiting for her. But I figured I’d go with the new experience. S assured me that the time clock was there to prevent dancers from ripping off patrons so I accepted her propaganda and clocked in with her. We got started right away and she used her knees to set me up right and then went right to grinding, first with her front to me and then her back. While she was switching she gave me a few discreet strokes by hand or rolled her head around on my cock. She gave me free reign with my hands and I concentrated on her ass, her hard belly and her pussy. She was really wet down there and the fabric was so loose that it was hard to tell if I had a handful of flesh or cloth. She stuck her nipple in my mouth and told me to suck even though it seemed that everything was already sucked out.

As I promised at the stage, I gave her a back rub as she was grinding. She seemed very appreciative and stepped up her efforts at making me cum. She locked my cock between her pussy lips and began a methodical rhythm from base to tip until I couldn’t hold out any more.

When I relaxed she laughed and whispered in my ear, “Did you cum in your pants?” I said I hoped I didn’t make too much noise. She told the story of another one of her customers who was moaning and groaning and almost gave them both away. I didn’t doubt her as I tried to remember how expressive I was just a couple of minutes before.

I paid on the way out and was relieved to find out I was charged what I should have been. S wanted me to stay and chat, but as per my routine I said I had to leave. She said she knew me from another club, one I haven’t visited in several years. I vaguely rememberd her name when she told me what she danced by then, but I said I look a lot different now without the coke bottle glasses I used to wear. She said, even so… Maybe she’s more perceptive than I figured.

So I went out into the steamy weather, my tee shirt covering the wet spot on my pants (not enough clothing in the summer to absorb my little spoonful). The weather gave me a good excuse to jump in the shower immediately when I got home to wash away the evidence.

This may be my last trip here for a while since I’ll be working every day for six months about two blocks away. I don’t want to be too familiar a character in the dirty parts of town. Of course, there are other dirty parts of town where I can take my business.