Routine trip

A rare shopping trip for me brought me downtown with some free time that I could build into my excursion to be able to slip into my "home" club. It was Saturday, a day I often see G working and I was hoping to see her again. I know that with her I will surely get off. Not that there's a chance I wouldn't with another dancer - I seem to have broken the silent code about what a guy really wants in the private booth - But some women there are just not my cup of tea.

I walked in, bought a soft drink at the bar and sat at a table near the stage. It was pretty crowded and as my eyes adjusted to the darkness I saw dancers scattered about sitting with their regulars. The dancer on stage was catering to several men seated at the stage. I did not see G but she could have been in another part of the club.

I sat at the stage and eventually B came over to me. She is a rather tall black woman with large tits and long, curly black hair, maybe a wig. She spent some time with me rubbing her tits in my face, running her fingers over her mound and pouting in that fake porn star kind of way. She initiated enough contact and seemed attentive enough that she passed my hard-on test - I had the stirrings of quite an erection.

Her set was over not long after that and a short white dancer replaced her on stage. The woman spent a lot of time across the stage with a guy who came up to the stage seemingly just for her while the rest of us cooled our jets. I didn't want to waste a lot of time waiting for her so I sat back down at my table hoping to see G or maybe to see if B was available for a private dance.

As I was deciding what to do, B came out of the dressing room behind me and stood chatting with another dancer. I caught her eye. She finished her conversation and sat next to me. I cut to the chase; are you available for a private dance? Of Course.

We retired to the private area and sat in one of the open ended booths. Even there it was crowded. Across the way a blonde was slowly slithering down a fat man's body ending up kneeling between his knees, caressing his ample middle and squishing her tits in his crotch. He had his head back and his forehead seemed to be glistening with sweat. They had probably been at it for a couple of songs because he looked like he was on the edge, or just over it.

That scene was so distracting (my timing was off - why wasn't I there to meet the blonde?) that I had to remind myself about B who was removing her bra and short skirt to do her job in a little black thong. Unfortunately it was not a memorable dance. I did get off but she seemed to be going through the motions; tits in my face, knees getting me hard, ass crack riding my cock. She was generous in letting me feel her up except when I tried to rub her clit. Off limits. I can respect that but, hey, I had to try.

Eventually I came and we straightened ourselves out and hugged goodbye. I did my shopping allowing my clothes to take on a department store smell to replace any barroom scent by the time I got home. However, my SO pointed out that I had a tiny piece of gold glitter stuck to the side of my nose. Luckily, glitter is not an unusual substance in my house, so I was able to shrug it off.