This is the second in a three-part series of articles on my checkered OTC career. In part 1 I described my unpromising OTC beginnings: two dinner-only dates with strippers and three dinner + BJ (or BJ + brunch) dates with one in particular. In this article I will describe an unbelievably bad first attempt at an overnight date with a stripper. I call this date “a veritable shit storm of chaos” for reasons that will soon become evident.
Introduction
I was introduced to D, a very attractive 38-year-old blonde career stripper, in summer of 2015 by my long-time favorite at a certain club who was planning to move away and, because she likes me a lot, wanted to fix me up with one of her best friends that she thought I would like. Little did she know that she was creating her own competition, as she hasn’t actually moved and now has to share me with D when they’re both working.
D has danced for me only three times over the past year and a quarter, the first two resulting in lapgasms due to her very sensual style (along with some OTP stick-shifting). The last time, in summer 2016, she was a wild woman, pulling Deuce Junior for some HJ, TF, and “the cameltoe slide” before an overzealous new bouncer shut her down.
Build-Up to the Main Event
After our steamy dances in July I asked her for her number (which I used to have), explaining that I had lost my burner phone and all of my contacts earlier in the summer. She couldn’t remember her number at the moment, so I gave her mine, not really expecting ever to hear from her.
Three days later she texted me, stating that she had suffered some financial setbacks recently and wondering if I could transfer $200 to her. The next day I wired the money using Walmart-2-Walmart, a service that costs $9.50 and requires the sender’s name, address, and phone number and the recipient’s name, state, and phone number and takes only 10 minutes. We agreed by phone to meet OTC for some “quasi-sexual activity, not sex per se”.
A week later she texted me again. This time she was in even deeper financial doo-doo and wanted more money. This was probably the time to draw the line, but I did some negotiating by text, asking her how much (“$150”), whether she would spend the night with me (“Yeah, for sure”), and whether she would be willing to do two BBBJs (“Not a problem”). I asked her if I could trust her to spend the coming Sunday night with me and do what we had agreed to and she wrote “Yes I promise. U have my WORD!”. So I made another transfer and specified the date: Sunday in five days, dinner at the Olive Garden (her choice) followed by overnight with after-dinner and morning BJs.
On Friday and Saturday I texted her several times from a city hours away, where I was attending a concert, to try to pin down the time and place to pick her up, but she seldom answered. Either she was just waking up (at 4pm Saturday!) or she was in the shower or she was leaving for work or she was busy at work or something. However, she did call from her club just before my concert started on Saturday night and we agreed on 6:30 Sunday as the start of our date.
The Date
I checked in to my hotel room at 3:30, went to a movie, and then took root at a McDonald’s with its free Wi-Fi, awaiting further developments. At 6:30 on the dot I texted her, asking “Can I pick you up now?” but she asked for 30-40 minutes because she had just awakened. This was the first in a series of extreme underestimates of time. In fact, I picked her up at her cheap motel at 8:30 (she was evicted from her apartment last spring), two hours after our date was supposed to begin.
We enjoyed a nice dinner with wine at the Olive Garden until it closed at 10. Revelation #1 was that her daughter was leaving at 5am to go on a vacation trip with D’s parents, so we had to go to Walmart to buy a journal and photo album for the daughter ($12, compliments of Deuce) and then to a gas station for smokes for D ($11, again compliments of Deuce). Then came Revelation #2: D had to go to her parents’ house to say goodbye to her daughter but it would only take an hour and her brother would drop her off at my hotel. (I found this weird, too. She simply said “He’s my brother, he knows I’m a stripper, and he doesn’t care.”) Furthermore (Revelation #3), she might need to work a few hours at her club because she had earned very little money in recent days. I asked her how much she needed and she said $200 for trip money for her daughter and $50 for tomorrow’s room rent.
I reluctantly agreed to “buy out her shift”. This was another point at which I could have refused, but I was already deeply involved in this saga and wanted to see how it played out, so I gave her another $250 and we shook hands on an agreement for another sleepover with two BBBJs in a month or so.
Of course one hour turned into two hours, so D texted me at 1am from the parking lot of my hotel. Now came Revelation #4: her brother wanted to meet me to see who his little sister was spending the night with. I found this weird and told her so. I insisted that they come into the lobby so that at least there would be witnesses to my shooting or knifing. As it turned out, she entered alone and I merely waved at him as he drove past the hotel entrance in his pickup. He said something like “Take good care of my little sister”. She explained that he was overprotective of her because they had had another sister who was a prostitute and was murdered in a hotel room by a customer. Weird, right? Well, it gets weirder.
The Main Event
By the time we got to my hotel room, it was 1:30am and she made Revelation #5: her brother was babysitting her other two daughters but had to go to work at 4am, so she needed to leave in the middle of the night to watch her kids until an aunt could take over at 7 or 8am. WTF! I agreed – what choice did I have? – and she did a magnificent job of relieving whatever stress I was feeling. It was really marvelous: we both got naked on a king-sized bed and engaged in some adult fun time culminating in an epic BBBJCIM, then just lay there cuddling and snoozing until she had to leave at 3:30.
The plan was for both of us to get a few hours of sleep until the babysitting aunt arrived and then rendezvous in my room or hers for round two. D thought I was taking her back to her motel (10 minutes away), but apparently her brother hadn’t gotten the word, because from about 2:30am on he was calling and texting my phone over and over. My phone was on “Do not disturb” so I didn’t see his texts until 3:30-4am. At first they were normal things like “You can tell my sister I’m dropping the kids off at our moms” but later turned into psycho shit like:
“If she dont get back to me I’m going to come up there and talk to her okay and I really don’t have it all that way she has a phone but she’s not responding to it”
and eventually:
“Tell before that you just suck your dick you got a blowjob ever give you a ride home. [She] better stop calling me from the hotel she’s at the place you got your dick sucked.” WHAT THE FUCK???
The Aftermath
At 9am I texted and called her, stating that I wanted her to come back to my room for round two – I did NOT want to hang out in her room! No response. At 11 I sent her a series of texts from a nearby brunch spot, pointing out that I enjoyed parts of our date – the dinner and the hotel room time – but that the rest was “let’s be honest, kind of a shit storm of chaos”. No answer all day!
The next day I texted her again, reminding her of her solemn promise, asking her if she was a woman of her word, and proposing a kind of payment plan (though it sounded nicer than that) whereby she would meet me two more times for double- BBBJ sleepovers and an incentive tip each time. That way she could pay me back without any outlay of cash and in fact would get some cash tips from me. If this all works out, I will get a series of wonderful hotel room BJs for about $150-200 each, not cheap but I’m trying to salvage something from this fucked-up situation.
She responded with a text stating that she will call me soon to discuss the details and that “U have my WORD and once I explain this text you will understand. I appreciate u and will make it up to u.”
Stripper shit? We’ll see. In my usual sunnily optimistic way, I think this will eventually work out. Or she could disappear and I could be out lots of money. Or I could be murdered by her psycho brother. Who knows?
Conclusion
To tell the truth, I don’t have any big regrets. I made a few crucial decisions (the first $200 transfer, the second $150 transfer, and the additional $250 cash after dinner and before our hotel time) that may prove to be questionable, but I’m intrigued to see how this all plays out!
My take-away from this saga is that D is a well-meaning career stripper with an extraordinarily disorganized life who got into financial trouble, found herself hundreds of dollars in debt to me, and panicked. When I kindly and generously proposed a payment plan that will allow her to pay me back without any outlay of cash on her part, she came to her senses – maybe.
Epilogue
The “shit storm of chaos” date described above was in early August. At the end of August I returned to her city and gave her a chance to redeem herself and to “work off” some of her debt. I must say that this second OTC date with her went much better. She was only 45 minutes late to be picked up, we had a lovely dinner at a fine Mexican restaurant; and she spent the entire night in my hotel room, blowing me most memorably at bedtime and again around 9am. We ended the date with a nice brunch. This time there were no two-hour delays, no departure in the middle of the night, and no interaction with the brother.
On the other hand, almost every week for the past two months I have wired money to her because her life is in perpetual chaos, lurching from one crisis to another: she has no money to pay for her motel room, she’s homeless or hungry for a couple of days at a time, she suffers a health emergency of some kind, etc. etc. Whenever something goes wrong, she turns to me for money. She now owes me the equivalent of several overnight dates, so much that I doubt that she’ll ever got caught up.
I suspect that I’ll keep seeing this girl. She has quite a hold on me and she owes me a lot. She has told me repeatedly that she is deeply grateful to me and even that “I literally love u”. However, at this point I think I’m done giving her money – which could very well mean that she will soon be done feeling grateful.
The latest development is that D has somehow acquired an old beater of a car, is getting her driver’s license reinstated, and has offered to drive three hours from her home to mine on a monthly basis to “work off” her debt! This is utterly astonishing to me – a stripper who is willing to make long-distance house calls!! Despite the very chaotic nature of her life, she retains a sense of responsibility for her debt and gratitude toward me that may very well result in a series of overnight OTC dates. Our next date is tentatively scheduled for about two weeks from now, so by the time this article is published, it will already have taken place – or not!
Final Words
This tale does not paint a flattering portrait of me. It is intended to show how truly awful an OTC date with a stripper can be – with the PL still wanting to see her again! In part 3 I will close this trilogy of articles with an account of an ongoing series of almost perfect OTC dates with another stripper.
