Did she or didn't she?

It's been a while since I've had a weekday all to myself so when the opportunity arose I tried to make the most of it. I did have some work to do (good excuse) and some shopping to do (good for padding the time) so I could indulge in a little decadence in between. I rolled a thin one before I left home in case I got the chance. It was a rare day to spend on myself.

I worked until mid-afternoon when I knew the lunch crowds would thin out and headed over to the nearby strip club, picking a route that would minimize my exposure to the local popular restaurants. I waited at the bar for my soft drink and was happy there were no pushy dancers sidling up and asking for a private dance before my eyes even got adjusted to the dark. I brought my drink over to a table at the side of the stage and saw a guy in the shadows who looked about my age. He looked vaguely familiar, but in the dark I couldn't place him. If we knew each other, I was hoping that he wouldn't be able to recognize me either.

The shift changed on stage and M, a black woman in tight stripper shorts and matching bra, started her set. I sat at the stage putting a pillar between me and guy I thought I knew, but with some lounge chairs (where other dancers were sitting) and the bar behind me. I don't like to have an audience when there is a woman all over me, but I tried to ignore them.

M came over and pushed her tits in my face, pulling down her bra to give me full access. She really wanted me to suck on her nipples and I was only too happy to oblige. They were erect and the size of pencil erasers, only like the ones you see on those over-sized pencils you win at amusement parks or in those vending machines where you try to grab prizes. I was hoping no guys had cum on her tits recently, but this isn't really that kind of club.

Since there were so few customers M spent some time with me, showing off in several positions. She sat with her back to me and leaned back with her head on my shoulders, breathing in my ear and nibbling on my neck, all the while encouraging me to feel her tits which were heaving right under my nose, nipples at 10 and 2. She was certainly passing my hard on test. She knelt and, pulling down her shorts, wiggled her ass in my face, showing off her pussy which was bulging out of her thong. I was trying to balance being discreet and feeling her up as much as I could and figured it was time to ask for a dance so I could roam a lot more in private.

She asked me to wait until her set was done and wandered off. I took my seat as two guys came in, one of whom stopped to chat with M. They had an intimate conversation and I was hoping it wasn't her boyfriend. The last thing I needed was trouble with a jealous thug. But things were cool when we left for the private dance area.

We settled into a booth in a dark corner - no curtain but still plenty of privacy. I sat and made my usual adjustment, loosening my cock and setting it to 12 o'clock. She sat on my lap and started to get me up to speed by grinding her pussy in my lap and once more offering her tits. This time I had no reservations about caressing, squeezing and sucking on those big, hard nipples. We even exchanged a few kisses on the mouth as things started heating up.

By then I was fully extended and breathing hard. M stood for a minute and slipped off her shorts leaving only her bulging thong. She straddled me and pulled down the top of her thong apparently inviting me to play. I reached down and found her clit among the extended petals. No wonder her panties were bulging - she's an outie. I needed a little lube so I gently fished for her hole and just penetrated enough to get some moisture since she seemed to be a little shy about my going too far in.

She got up on her knees to give me more room for my fingers to work, leaning in for more tit play and kissing. This time real French kissing - tonguing and licking each other just like real lovers - a first for me with a sex worker. She didn't forget me. She grabbed my cock and started squeezing and stroking me through my pants. We started a coital rhythm as she stroked my cock and I stroked her now-swollen clit, kissing and caressing all the while.

She found my sweet spot and I groaned in her ear as I came letting her know she had earned her money. Instead of backing off, she surprised me by saying, "Don't stop with my pussy." Could it be that she might actually get off? I matched the rhythm of her hips as she seem to be using my finger as much as I was using her pussy. In a couple of minutes she shuddered, stifled a moan, let out a big breath, stiffened up a bit and finally fell forward burying her head on my shoulder. I ran my finger back a little to feel a lot of wetness all around her lips and vagina. I ran my wet finger back over her clit and she jumped like it was really sensitive. I would have tried for multiples but she seemed to be finished.

Another first for me. Or did she really come? I asked her. She said she did - "I can't fake that. Now I'll have to change my panties 'cause of you." She asked me if I got what I needed. I answered with only a smile. We hugged goodbye and kissed one last time. I walked to my special place, hiding in plain sight, and lit up the joint. Did she or didn't she? My male ego says yes. The evidence seemed to say yes also - the breathing, the shuddering, the wetness, the sensitivity. On the other hand (so to speak), it didn't take that long, and after all, she is a stripper making her living on fantasy. I'll never really know for sure. I stuck the roach in a matchbook and headed to the mall hoping by the time I got there I wouldn't smell too much of cum and sweat, perfume and marijuana, pussy fingers and peppermint LifeSavers.