Mundo bizarro

I decided to go for down and dirty rather than squeaky clean. In hindsight I probably should have gone for the massage, but it was interesting to see how bizarre things have gotten at the Stench Palace.

I hadn't been there in a few years and not much has changed except that its sordid reputation has only gotten worse. It's topless unlike the bikini bar I usually go to and it is really more of a bordello than a strip club. Stories abound about the infamous private booths which you can rent for 15 minutes and negotiate with a dancer for services. Depending on the dancer, they run the gamut from hand jobs to anal and everything in between.

I was just there for the traditional lap dance, but I wanted to see if the women there have gotten as scary and as loose as the posting on internet sites have indicated.

I walked into the pitch black entry way and stumbled up the stairs. Luckily, I remembered the layout since they kept the lights way down low. I went to the bar and got a drink and waited a little for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. It was a little after 5pm and the place was hopping. There seemed to be a lot of women and almost an equal amount of men. The bar is a rather large rectangle at one end of the room with several dancers sitting with their regular customers.

I grabbed my drink and walked toward the middle section of the room past a few stools between a railing and the wall where several mostly naked women in colorful costumes and heavy makeup lurked. It was beginning to look like I walked into the middle of a Fellini film.

The music was pounding louder and louder as I made my way down two short sets of stairs into the pit where the stage is. The black light seemed to be the only illumination and it highlighted certain parts of the dancers' costumes making it look like floating body parts moving about. Of course my light shirt was glowing, along with a few of the customers, denying me the cover of darkness I like to have in strip clubs.

I went to sit at the stage where two rather large and squishy women were doing their thing. One came over and did the normal stripper moves - lying on her side & raising her leg to show off her mound; sitting on the edge of the stage and rubbing her boobs in my face; pulling her g-string aside for my dollar bills. She said something in my ear which I assume was a proposition for a lap dance or a booth session. All I could hear was 'private' but I declined, saying I just arrived.

The second, equally large dancer performed pretty much the same rooutine. Neither one did anything to get a rise out of me.

I left the stage and went up one short flight of stairs to the cabaret area where dancers who were just on stage give short test runs of their lap dance skills and try to entice patrons to more private areas. It's an area that circles two sides of the stage with benches and bolted down small round tables.

A couple more overweight dancers came over and sat on my lap and rubbed their tits in my face. More whispered propositions; at least I assumed that's what they were since the loud music made it nearly impossible to hear anything else.

I looked around at the patrons there. There were a few home boys and some construction types and several very overweight men. I also saw several older, professional types like myself trying to blend in. I was hoping no one I knew was lurking in the shadows.

Finally, a normal sized woman in a red teddy adjusted me on the bench so she could really get my attention. She leaned over to give my face a titty rubdown and rather indiscreetly grabbed and rubbed my crotch. Then came the proposition. I could hear her better but had a hard time translating her Spanish accent; the message was clear though. I said, Maybe in a little while, but I was really tempted because I had the makings of my first hard on since I arrived.

When she left I went to explore the upstairs bar which was a lot quieter with fewer customers. On the small stage an rather petit dancer was all over a customer at the stage with her legs wrapped around his middle and her hands (& his) running everywhere. A guy at the other end of the stage was staring and maybe even drooling.

I wasn't there more than 10 seconds when a very tall, probably Brazilian, dancer with bleached blonde hair and whiskey breath embraced me like I was her long lost relative. She was chattering in broken English trying to get me to talk to her or buy her a drink or probably just give her money. I muttered something and tried to leave. Luckily, she was distracted by some other stiff at the bar and I made my escape. I would have waited to see more of the woman on stage, but I figured It was my chance to make a getaway.

At the bottom of the stairs I saw the woman in the red teddy. I figured it was time to bust my nut and get the hell out of there so I asked her if she was still interested in a dance. Of course whe was and we both made it clear that we were going to the lap dance room and not the full service booths.

She led me to the room which has hard wooden benches along the walls and some with high backs in the middle. We sat just insde the doorway behind the bouncer and partially visible to the people at the stage. I wasn't very comfortable, but it was too crowded to go anywhere else. I had to ask her name several times before I understood it to be R. she took her teddy off and then her g-string. The bouncer saw her and reminded her she was not in the nude room, so she laughed and put her bottom back on.

That was about the only glimpse of her personality that I saw. From there it was a pretty perfunctory lap dance, alternating between rubbing her ass on my crotch or using her knee to get the job done with an occassional hand grab. There were no smiles, no reactions, just pumping away. I did manage to rub her clit through her g-string a little and certainly did my share of tit massage and licking, but it was an uninspired performance. She even took a call on her cell phone while working her ass in my lap.

It took all my concentration guiding her hips with my hands and watching another dancer working over another guy across from us to finally bring me over the brink. She took her money and walked off with hardly an acknowledgement.

I split with an empty wallet and a wet spot on my pants. Next time I'll go back to my bikini bar where the women at least pretend to be interested, and at best make their customers feel like they're wanted.