OTC and GFE's: Be careful what you wish for.
Roadworrier
Lapland
Wednesday, June 14, 2017 12:00 AM
I've done OTC once with my ATF in the past. I don't visit her club in Baltimore (about 60-90 min away) nearly as often as I used to. Generally they've been 4-5 month intervals but we text each other fairly regularly. Finally I had a break and a chance to go up and see her. We usually have it planned out. Our usual MO is that I bring dinner into the club (which doesn't serve food) for her and me, we spend some quality time together nuzzling at one of the tables or at the bar, and then private rooms for 30 min and a few laps for much of the rest of the evening.
Last week, ATF wanted a change of pace. She wanted to have dinner with me before going into the club. We did, at a nice steak restaurant (meeting me at my hotel in a low-key outfit, a long summer dress and flip flops). After, I dropped her off at the club, and then came by later. I did 30 min with her in a private room for the usual fee, we hung out till closing. No overnight was going to happen that night, so no nookie. But ATF asked to meet me for breakfast the next morning out closer to where she lived. We did so (she came in a shorter dress, lower cut, still in flats), and then we spent some time together afterward riding around in my convertible.
This is less your usual OTC story than what essentially amounted to a back-to-back dinner date and then a breakfast date with a very pretty woman (divorced MILF), in which I wound up learning a lot more about my ATF than I expected. I have to admit that in the back of my mind I knew this would eventually happen, given we've known each other for well over two years. I thought I was going to share a little bit of my heritage and my profession with her just to make things interesting and her curious about me. But what happened was suddenly a torrent of information from her. Among those things I learned were her name (showing me her profile as a driver for one of those popular ridesharing services), her family background, what she did before stripping, her vacation with her kids, lots of photos with well-known people, and advice on a career change that would allow her to live a nice normal attractive lifestyle. Just from time spent with my ATF in the past, she tends to avoid too much drinking in the club, and apparently seems to be drug-free (no tattoos, no smoking, generally clearheaded, friendly to waitstaff in restaurants, unfailingly polite, and tends to disdain the cokeheads who danced at or managed her former club).
So part of the deal with engaging a stripper off the stage is always the fantasy - even if it's pure acting, if she's good she makes both Dr. Libido / L'il Roadworrier / whatever-you-wanna-call-it and yourself feel like the center of the sex universe, for however long you have on the sofa or in the VIP room. If you build a rapport she can offer a decent GFE when not "on the clock" (although her current club has dancer drinks which provide a revenue stream on the backs of customers with a small 40% cut for the dancer). And then maybe OTC and horizontal bop happens.
But what happened last week suddenly jolted me, though it took some time to sink in. I suddenly do not think of her as a stripper anymore. I know her name, what her family looks like, her car, what she does when not in the club, and most of all, I'm now getting accustomed to seeing her in something other than quick-to-remove lingerie and 5" platform heels. I have enough info about her that I can google her, access her on LinkedIn, and essentially turn into a Grade A stalker. It looks like we will be doing this again next month, and it looks like we have another restaurant and plans to go to a park the next day already made. My motto of my SC life has always been to let fantasy get in the way of reality. Now for the first time, it's the other way.
Yet even with this sudden dose of "real", there was a clear pattern to her sharing so much with me. It seemed like one part of it was for me to know who she was before she began stripping, and the other part of it was apparently to know she was looking for a life after stripping. Knowing I am married, knowing she's a mom, and sensing she's not much for hotel tricks, it became clear she's looking for some sugar-daddy action, at the very least a little low-key sugar-daddy advice, for the cost of meals and of course time in the club. She's not asked me for a retainer yet, so it's just been a matter so far of providing her with company, food and a little evening income at the club in exchange for some sexy fun.
While there's only so much advice one (even if he is 25 years older) can give someone who was a married stay-at-home mom for a few years and doesn't have a broad work background beyond the SC, it is clear she is an engaging communicator, and seems to be good about taking care of herself. If anyone could probably "move on" into real life. it's her.
The alpha-dog part of me wants to stick to the sex part and know her by her stage name. The beta part of me wants to move this along and see where it goes. I think the alpha-dog route is the safer way to go, and has been my road taken in the past. But when you know a gal for long enough, even in an SC, if they actually like you, at some point it seems like things will take a turn into the friend/sugar-daddy zone. Something I am clearly not prepared for.
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