A week ago I spent the night out at one of my favorite strip clubs. I hadn't been to any clubs in a while, and I was feeling particularly horny, having spent the last couple of weeks distracted and abstinent. I arrived at the club and scoped out the place; I see a couple of hotties whose company I think I would enjoy. The minutes go by, and I politely turn down offers from dancers to whom I am not attracted (or by whom I am repulsed), and no good opportunities seem to be presenting themselves. Finally, a tall, young, skinny girl with a cute face walks by and I say "hello." After talking only briefly, I walk with her to the backroom for some lap dances.
I am immediately turned on and rock hard by the touch of her perfectly smooth, soft, flawless Asian skin. Suffice to say, my time with her was so pleasurable, it was close to what I would consider the best lap dance experience one could have without including extras. She showed off her incredibly long tongue, and playfully licked at my pants-covered manhood. She asked me what she could do for a big tip, and I suggested "anything that you do with that gorgeous tongue of yours would be appreciated." After indicating that a BJ was not on the menu, I asked, "How about a kiss?" and she proceeded to stick her tongue in my mouth for a nice, brief kiss. At the end she offered to exchange numbers, or instagrams, and... for some reason I just gave her my phone number, but didn't get her number in return.
I was horny, she was young and gorgeous, and I was hooked... again.
Maybe what I really need is to quit the porn, hookers, and strippers, go to church on Sundays, get right with God, and find a girl with whom we can say to the pastor "I do." Despite the fact that my fundamentalist non-denominational parents aren't together (and never seemed to have a good relationship) and my father has been living in an RV while my mom stays in the big house, my uncle (a church pastor) married and was very soon after divorced (likely due to his own porn addiction), my other uncle also divorced, a third uncle was so messed up from alcohol and drugs I don't even know if he ever married, my brother married and had 2 kids and divorced after about 5 years, and my other brother is basically a monk who lives at home with Mom and, like me, hasn't really had a long-time girlfriend... despite all those signs, perhaps I should take a shot at this whole "marriage" thing. Or, if not marriage, maybe a magical unicorn girlfriend who is as hot as the girl in the strip club and only wants to pleasure me with endless blowjobs.
A week goes by during which I am far too preoccupied with thoughts of the dancer from last week. Finally, Saturday night comes and I decide to go out again despite the fact that I'm not nearly as horny as I was a week ago... in fact, not really horny at all, just much too attached to a particular outcome. I take a Yohimbe pill even though it makes me anxious. To make matters worse, the club is more packed than its ever been; the usual lot was completely full, and I had to park far down the street. To my surprise, I was able to find an open seat, and so begins a long nothing-burger of a night. I sit, and I sit, and I sit, and I look for the girl. Sure, there are a few other girls that are cute, but I'm too attached to re-living the experience from a week ago.
There she is, finally, the girl from last week, dancing on the pole right in front of my table. I slip a tip into her G-string and ask if I can get a dance with her... and she asks for more money. I slip a few more bills in her G-string and sit back at my table. She proceeds to move on to the next stage as the dancers rotate their positions. Again, I sit, and I sit, and I sit, and I check my phone, and I lose track of her. I walk around the club and take a seat at the other side of the club. After having spent an hour and half in the club already, I start to think it's just not my night and begin to consider leaving.
I stand up and suddenly, from around the corner, there she is. "Hey." "I have to find my phone." She's lost her phone and seems to be searching for it, looking behind tables and chairs. Still, she finds time to get some customers to go to the backroom with her. I continue to sit, and sit, and sit. I get up to walk around the club some more and again I find her standing right in front of me, this time in the company of a much older gentleman who seems to be taking a video of the club with his phone. I ask her if she's available for a dance and she merely shakes her head, no.
Perhaps she sensed my mental state and was turned off by it, or perhaps my hands roamed her body a little too liberally during our dances and my fingers brushed against a place where they shouldn't have one too many times, or perhaps...
I've had some fun times in the strip clubs, many of which I'm sure were mutually fun for the dancers. But, when the strip club is no longer a fun place of few expectations, and turns into a tool that's being used to fill a void in one's life, perhaps it's time for another long break... or a permanent divorce.
Well . . .
My troubles suddenly seem less.
Good luck.
Unless that was all 'tongue in cheek'.