Anything Goes

Sometimes, too much is too much. Anything -- and that means pretty much anything at all -- goes at Cheeks, at least some of the time. A recent visit illustrated this point. A dancer (whose name I will omit, because of the nature of this report) and I spent some time having a nice conversation, then she went to the stage. I came to the stage-side seats and tipped her generously for her couple of dances. She was a very fine stage dancer, and quite sexual.

Back we go to a table, and she puts her hand up my shorts and starts stroking me. Do I want a VIP session? She offered BBBJ. I hesitated, pondering. She offered BBFSCIP. ("I'm fixed," she declared, so pregnancy was no concern. Apparently, potential disease from this just-met person was also no concern to her.) I showed surprise. She offered Greek. I told her I was unprepared for such delights, and excused myself, offering the possibility that I might return. I did not return.

Anything goes, I suppose...