• articles >
• JohnSmith69

JohnSmith69

layin low but staying high

Since I first started going to strip clubs approximately 15-20 years ago, I estimate that I’ve had about 12,000 lap dances, with roughly 4,000 dancers, at approximately 65 different clubs around the country. Most of those dances blend together in an indistinguishable morass of hands, breasts, ass, and LDKs. For the most part, its difficult to remember one dance as clearly distinct from any other dance. But there are nevertheless at least a few dozen dances that clearly stand out in my memory many years later. For example, I clearly recall my first dance at Spearmint Rhino in Vegas where I came in the first 60 seconds. I fondly recall many dances with quite a few favorites over the years. I also recall dances with some girls who were unique in terms of age (a few having just turned 18, others in their mid to late 40s), breast size (from as big as a large watermelon to itty bitty), quality of dance, etc. Then of course there are quite a few dances that involved extras, which as I define anything in which the little head emerges from my pants. Those dances are in a unique category of their own, and I remember some clearly but not others. This is the story of my favorite lap dance that did not involve extras. While this dance took place 7-8 years ago, I still remember it as if it took place yesterday.

I was traveling on business which is when I do most of my strip club visits. I was in a tourist town in the South that had decent strip clubs. The clubs tend to have beautiful women but are expensive and tend to have limited mileage in most respects. Given this, and given that it was the slow tourist season so the seasonal dancers who work here were not in the clubs, I wasn’t expecting a whole lot. There are two main clubs that I usually go do in this town, but they are far apart so I usually have to choose one or the other. They are too far apart for a visit to both in one night.

The first club is large, upscale, and usually has lots of gorgeous women. However, I decide not to go to this club on this particular night because the women tend to mostly be from Russia or Eastern Europe. While those women are beautiful, too many tend to be ROBs in my experience and plus they are very hard to talk to. Also, the prices in that club are outrageous and I’ve had very limited success with the dancers there. So I choose the second club. It’s a little smaller, still upscale, and with beautiful dancers who tend to be more local in origin.

Unfortunately, it is a bad night at my club of choice. It has the poor combination of a small group of dancers (probably because it’s the off season) and a large crowd of PLs. Also, the customers on this particular night act like they’ve never seen a set of titties before. They are throwing ridiculous amounts of money on stage for next to nothing from the girls, and they are going back for dances in droves (no doubt paying the outrageous standard costs without trying to negotiate or getting any understanding of mileage beforehand). I nonetheless stay for a couple of hours and try to make the best of it. I eventually talk to most of the dancers there and try to get something going, but they can make a ton more money with the inexperienced PLs in the club on this night without having to provide anything special. It’s easier for them to take the cash from the other PLs rather than dealing with a veteran like me who expects them to work for their money. So beyond a couple of air dances at my table and a few stage tips, the night goes nowhere.

This is how clubbing goes sometimes, and I’m not terribly surprised. While I hoped for something better, and I’ve gotten it occasionally in this town, I know the clubs in this area well enough to understand that the little head often won’t get what he’s after. “Looks like its you and me again tonight Rosie.” (if you don’t understand that reference, look up the song Rosie by Jackson Browne. Rosie is his right hand which is what he’s stuck with after the drummer in the band steals his girl for the night). I head back to the hotel to let Rosie give me what I need. As I’m turning off the main highway, I notice a little dive strip club that I had forgotten about. I went here a couple of times a few years previously. It’s about as low as I ever go in terms of strip club environments -- run down, ramshackle, tiny little building with dancers that mostly range from medicore to miserable. The attraction of the place, however, is that it’s the only consistently high mileage club in the town as far as I’m aware. I was not offered any extras on my past two visits, but the lap dances here tend to be about as high contact as you can get while keeping your pants on. Also, I saw a couple of decent looking dancers here the last time, although they were borderline for my tastes.

The little head insists that we stop at this club and see what we can find. I tell him OK because he’s a persistent little bastard about getting his way, but I make it clear to him that we are not settling for any dancer who’s any less than a 7. He reluctantly agrees. Once we get in the place, however, he starts trying to convince me that some 4s and 5s are really a 7. Several of them stop at my table, but once they get close there is just no way I can be convinced that they are anywhere approaching a 7. Some end up being closer to a 3. I am not nearly desperate enough to settle for these dancers, and I certainly hope that I never get that horny. After being there for about a half hour I’m ready to leave.

It’s then that I notice a new dancer come out of the back. She stops at the table next to mine and sits with the guy there. She is beautiful. Most guys would rate her at least an 8, probably a 9. For me she’s a 9.5 plus because she is exactly what I most want. She’s white, pale skin, shoulder length red hair, beautiful eyes, pretty face, well proportioned (not a spinner but a normal weight), sexy freckles on her chest, and best of all, my dream breasts --- large, at least a D cup, completely natural, large suckable nipples, with just a slight sag from the weight. I’m completely and totally in lust, and I immediately agree with the little head that we must have her. But as luck would have it, the guy she’s with is a whale. He completely consumes all of her time and attention for the next 45-60 minutes. I try to make it clear that I want her by tipping her when she does a table dance for him, and by giving her my best “I want to pay you tons of money” stare, but she stays with the whale. Finally, after an hour or so, the whale walks away (not sure if he was leaving or going to the bathroom). I’m about to pounce on her but before I can she comes to my table. I guess she finally noticed how much attention I was paying to her.

We talk for a while and as if she’s not already my perfect woman, she has another attribute that I dearly love -- a cute southern accent. Damn, a local southern girl. I’ve got to have this woman. She says that she only dances once a month for the fun of it, and has a regular full time job. This of course raises warning flags for me. If she doesn’t dance regularly, then she might not be on board with the high mileage dance policy of this club. The fact that she is a thousand times prettier than any other woman here might also increase the odds that she is a low mileage kind of girl. Ordinarily, I would make sure beforehand that the dances would involve the level of contact that I need. But I don’t do that here because it would destroy the little head’s fantasy if she said no contact. And besides, its not like I had another alternative. Rosie has nothing on this girl.

So we go back for dances, and to my delight she is just as hands on as could be. She rubs me in all the right places and agrees to whatever positions I like. After 3 dances or so, I ask her if I could please suck on her nipples while she dances. If you haven’t guessed it yet, I’m a breast man and as I mentioned, hers are perfect. I desperately want to suck on them. She doesn’t say no to my request, but is clearly hesitant to say yes. This is apparently not something that she usually allows, or maybe she has not been asked before since she doesn’t dance regularly. I promise her that I will suck gently, and that I will get several more dances if she let’s me have my way. She finally agrees.

I start sucking slowly and sporadically given her reluctance. I don’t want to scare her away. However, after a couple of more dances whenever I stop sucking she puts a breast back in my mouth. This happens several times. I stop sucking, and a few second later she puts a breast back in my mouth. While this is going on, we are both groping and rubbing all over each other. I start sucking harder, taking as much of those huge breasts in my mouth as I possibly can. She offers no resistance and clearly is enjoying it. This is awesome. I’ve got the girl of my dreams doing everything that I want her to do -- at least everything that she can do with my pants staying on. We are in a community dance area with individual stalls, so there are people all around us. However, I never notice anyone else and have no idea if others are watching this show or not. All I know is that I have my dream woman in my arms and her breasts in my mouth and I don’t want to let go.

After a bunch of songs, I don’t remember the number but it was at least a half dozen, she says that she’s sorry but she needs to go to the bathroom. WTF?? We were just getting to the best part of the dance and now she wants to stop. I wondered if I’d read her all wrong and maybe she wasn’t into the dances like I thought she was. Maybe I’d pushed things too far and exceeded her limits. In any event, I reluctantly stop, pay her, and I go back to my table while she goes to the back. And then? Nothing. 10, 20, 30 minutes go by and there’s no sign of my dream dancer. She is gone doing whatever the fuck it is that they do back there for such long periods of time. Eventually I figure that she’s either left, or she’s waiting for me to leave, and in any event it looks like it will be me and Rosie after all.

I decide to give it 5 more minutes and then I’m gone. That is the moment that she appears out of the back and sits at my table. She is very apologetic, explaining that a friend of hers in the dressing room had some type of major crisis with some guy in her life and she just couldn’t leave. I don’t register the details, as its just the same old stripper shit. After I get the reader’s digest version of this drama, she says that she wants to go back to the dance area. She says that she loved the way that I sucked her nipples and she wants me to keep doing it. I know that this must just be a line to get me to spend more money, but she says it very sincerely and in a shy, almost embarrassed way. She also talks with such a sexy southern accent that I’m immediately turned on. Most likely she’s just a really good actress, but in the back of mind I hold out some hope that she really was enjoying our dances as much as I was.

We go back to the dance area and we pick up right where we had left off. We are all over each others’ bodies, and she is actively putting those lovely breasts in my mouth and urging me to suck with abandon as she rubs all over my body. It’s like we never left. I’m oblivious to everyone else in the dance area and am enraptured with the body of my dream woman which she gives me so willingly. After several more very intense dances, I hear a soft moaning sound. The sound starts softly but grows in intensity. I know this sound. I know it very well. It is the sound I make when I am about to achieve life’s goal according to the lap dance king. I’ve made this sound hundreds of times before in dingy little lap dance rooms just like this one. Only this time I’m not the one making this sound. It takes me a few seconds to figure things out, but the sound is coming from my beautiful red head dancer. It’s then that I notice that while I suck on her nipples, she is aggressively rubbing her crotch against my leg. The noise gets louder and must be noticeable to others around us. But she seems oblivious to the others in the lap dance room as am I.

Now I’ve had hundreds of dancers do fake moans and fake orgasm sounds during lap dances. I hate the fake moaning shit. I hate it in porn, and I hate it during lap dances. I hate it because it is so clearly fake. Lap dances are about fantasy, and the last thing I want in the middle of my fantasy is a woman doing fake moans which make it clear to me that this dance means nothing more than money to her. But my dancer’s moans this time are not fake. They are without the slightest doubt real. She encourages me to keep sucking and not stop while she rubs herself against me. The moans build and build until finally there is a release and she cums with several spasms through her body. I keep sucking until she is done, and then she goes kind of limp and stops. I slowly release her breast from my mouth, and we stare into each others eyes.

This was a bizarre moment because there was a total reversal of reality. In the way the world actually is, I’m supposed to be the one who has the orgasm and the dancer is supposed to be the one who services me. Instead, we are in bizarro world where I’m the one giving her the pleasure and she has the orgasm. Once she catches her breath, she says that she’s never had a man suck her nipples like that and she didn’t know that sucking her nipples would get her so turned on and give her an orgasm. I tell her that its one of my skills in life, and I’m glad to be of service. That’s just who I am. I’m a giver. I’m always giving, giving, giving.

Then we both had the exact same thought together. I’m not much for non-verbal communication. It’s hard enough to communicate with a woman using words, so I certainly don’t claim to be able to communicate with them by just looking at each other. But that is unmistakably what happened on this occasion. As we sat together in the fading glory of her orgasm, we both had the same thought -- she should pay me. After all, I had done what a dancer usually does for her customer, so it seemed only right and natural in this bizarro world that she should be the one to pay me.

As soon as she had this thought, she started to rectify the situation. She started dancing for me again, and paid close, extra special attention to the little head. I was unbelievably turned on by this point, so it didn’t take much to giving the little guy the release he wanted. She started sucking on him aggressively through my pants. I had on very thin cotton pants with no underwear, so it was as close of a feeling as you can get to a blow job without taking your pants off. In no time, I was the one moaning. Shortly thereafter, the goal of the evening was accomplished. Order had been restored to the world. I was no longer in bizarro world. She sucked until I was completely spent, and then snuggled up next to me. As we left the dance area, I paid her and included a good tip in accordance with my guiding principle of life -- always tip generously to any woman who gives you an orgasm.

We visited for a short while at my table. But it was late and I needed to get to bed. I tried to figure out how we could meet again, but it was clearly not meant to be. She dances very infrequently, and I’m rarely in this town, so the chances of us meeting up again are remote. If I’d had as much experience then as I do now (this happened several years ago),I would have gotten her phone number and tried to set up an OTC meeting. But I doubt that would have worked out even if I’d tried. This encounter clearly pushed her limits and while she was open to it I tend to doubt that she would have been willing to go further.

I think about this woman occasionally. I particularly think of her on nights when my club visits are going slow, when it looks like the night is going nowhere, when it looks like its going to end up just me and Rosie. The lesson she taught me is a simple one -- never give up. It applies to strip clubbing, and it applies in all areas of life. When things look at their worst, when all the dancers seem to be a 3, when you are ready to give up for the night, that might just be the moment when you meet your dream dancer who will give you the best lap dance of your life. It was for me.