Bartenders Lap Dance

Every once in a great while, I find the time and get the inclination to step out a little bit and have a little fun. Most often it ends up happening that I have an afternoon during the week where I can sneak away and spend the time to myself. On this one particular afternoon I decided to see what the local strip club and watering-hole had to offer. I had some cash stashed in the back of my wallet and being that I don’t drink anyways, I have plenty of money to spend on the babes and lap dances, etc.

The girls in the clubs around Jax are alright, for the most part. Some are a little older and some are just too darn young for me to get excited about. Some are nice and some are desperate. Some are just really horny and seem to be out of their element: like they are pretending to be strippers so they can meet guys and fool around while the hubby is at work or out on deployment or whatever.

I tend to gravitate to these types. I don’t want a hard core, trowel on the makeup super stripper type. I prefer a little softer, a little more innocent. It’s just me. So I got out on a Tuesday and I found myself near Dunn Ave and I know there is a little place there called the Diamond Lounge and I have been in there maybe four times over five years and each experience was different; the bartenders are always different and the girls vary from wild to mild to none at all. One time I went and they had super loud gangster rap blaring and couple of hard core black chicks who looked like they would cut you and I didn’t even stay to order a soda. One time there was like six girls and I was mobbed by them and didn’t have any fun.

This time I found a female barkeep with cigarette hanging out of the corner of her mouth wearing a bright orange bikini top and a black wrap around skirt. She was about 30, longish blonde hair pulled back in a pony tail with a matching orange skrunchy thing. It was nice in there, cool and dark and her nipples were half hard as she cleaned around the bar and the counter. She said hello and I asked if there were any dancers in and she said it was kind of early but they would have one coming in soon. So I sat down and she got me a diet Coke. The jukebox was playing some old southern rock and it was loud enough to hear it and still quiet enough to think and talk. I had noticed just one car in the parking lot, so using my awesome deductive powers I figured it was just her and I.

As it became apparent to me, not many people visit a strip bar on the North Side of Jax on a Tuesday morning around 11. After about ten minutes I started to get the itch and the phone rang. The barkeep gets it talks for couple seconds and comes back. She leans over to me across the bar, showing some nice cleavage I might add, and tells me that the dancer supposed to be coming in will be late and that it looks like it’s just me and her until about 1pm. I ask her if she has a lot of customers this early and she tells me she is there mostly for prep and they don’t usually get anyone at all before noon anyways.

I asked her if she danced and she said she used to, but gave it up when she had her baby a couple years ago. She ended up coming back to bartend when the kid went to school. She still made decent money and she usually got home before six and she like working days but hate being a secretary.

I asked her if she missed dancing at all and she said she missed it some, but the assholes she met more than made up for the nice guys and the guy she married didn’t like it at all but then that was part of the reason they spilt up. He was just too jealous and didn’t like to see other guys touching her and stuff. She told me, like I would tell you I like mustard on my sandwich, that she really liked the thrill of being touched by strange guys.

Mental note to self: Divorced, likes the touch of a strange guy, no one else here, looks good…

So I asked her if she would give me a private dance now. I swear to God, I think her eyes glazed over and she said really? You want me to dance for you? Duh! Yeah! They have a little alcove between the end of the bar and the bathrooms that they have some nicer chairs in for the private dances. I asked her how much a dance would cost and she said they usually charge $10 a song but she would do four for $20, if I was up to it. I recognized the bargain and saw some good fun ahead so I said sure. She said she needed to go freshen up in the girls room and that I should sit in a good chair and wait.

I moved over into the little alcove and sat in a corner chair, my back against the bar and a huge mirror, and facing a wall that had a huge mirror and some neon beer lights aglow on it. She came out wearing the same bikini and skirt and I just assumed she needed to pee before we got started. She came over into the little area and unplugged all the beer lights and left the alcove in near total darkness. I like it better like this, don’t you? She asks and Who am I to argue? She asks if the music is OK and I say sure, is one of the songs the slow version of Stairway to Heaven? That really works for me. She gets the joke and she says “OH! One more thing…” and runs on bare feet really quick over to the front door and locks it and then hops right back. “I don’t like to be interrupted,” she giggled.

She steps up between my legs, puts one hand on the mirror and kind of leans down and puts her bikini clad melons right in front of my face and begins to sway to the music and get into it a little bit. She turns around and rubs her ass across my crotch and dances and wiggles in front of me. Near the end of the first song she is rubbing her front against my front and I feel her lips and teeth gently nibbling on my right ear and she says “You can touch me, you know?” My hands find the warm skin over her rib cage and I feel a surge heat into my crotch as I am hard as nails.

The second song is starting; it is Bob Seger’s Main Street. I love that sang and apparently so does she. She bends down in front of me showing me that her snatch is bare and shaved below the skirt and when she stands up the skirt pretty much stay up over her waist and I am just so enamored by her pretty pussy. She turns slowly in front of me and I take in her nice ass and then she is standing in front of me with a finger on her clit and a slick line of wet starting down the top of her left thigh.

She steps between my legs again and I push the bikini up over her titties, exposing them to the air and to me. She leans in and moans as I suckle first one and then the other. The erectile flesh of her nipple throbbing in my mouth as I hug her to me. One leg is hiked up into my lap and I feel her knee rubbing the length of my erection while I suckle at the softness of her womanly breasts.

The song has ended and I couldn’t begin to tell you what the next one was. I was lost in the erotic wonder of this sexy woman. She looked at me, picked up my hand and pulled me out of the chair. She was leading me back past the pool tables toward the bathrooms and then she pulled me into the women’s room. It served as dressing room, too and it had an overstuffed couch against one wall. She sat down on the arm of he couch, her skirt all bunched up around her waist and told me that if I didn’t eat her pussy right then she was just going to burst. How could any man resist an impassioned plea like that from a beautiful woman? Certainly not I…

Her pussy was like an iris, open and inviting and full of dew along the leading edge. It tasted really good, really sweet and really clean. She smelled of soap and of peaches and I was intoxicated by the very smell of her. She was vocal and told me what was right and where to go and what to do. She loved the word cunt, and I grew crazy hearing her panting out to eat her cunt, lick her cunt, suck her cunt…

Several minutes later, after an earth shattering wild orgasm of epic proportions, she informed me that she intended to reciprocate. She told me she wouldn’t be able to fuck me, owing to an agreement she had with a guy she was dating, but she was allowed to suck anyone she wanted. That someone was ME. Yahoo! She pulled my trousers down to my knees with my skivvie shorts and pushed me back into the sofa cushions. She started playing with my cock, rubbing her thumb in circles over the head, slicking the head up with my pre-cum. She TOLD me all about what she was going to do, she told me I was going to lose control and shoot my load into her waiting mouth. And in telling me all of that, in wonderful graphic detail, she nearly didn’t need to do any of it. She damn near talked me out of it. When the end was near and I was in no condition to hold out, she covered my purple mushroom in her mouth and swirled her tongue around the head and the fireworks when off in my head and I lost control.

I heard the sound of a “golf” clap coming from the doorway, the dancer had finally showed up for work and let herself in with her key. She was amused that I was there with my pants around my ankles and the bartender with frosting about her lips and face.

Some trips out are better than others. Some create memories that will last a lifetime.