Date Night with M&Ms - Review of Mons Venus • 2040 N Dale Mabry Hwy Tampa, FL 33607

I have been encouraged by how Las Vegas seems to be bustling recently, and business seems to have recovered one year after Corona first hit. Although we have some good clubs in Las Vegas, I have been scared to go to them because I thought I might see someone that I know. I had been overcharged at the one club that I went to Girls of the Glitter Gulch in the Fremont Experience before it shut down. Since I was celebrating my 33rd birthday, I decided to take a road trip to Florida since I know they have a lot of strip clubs and advertise that they are open. My last trip was back in 2018. Plus, I met a stripper on the internet named Melody who dances at a Tampa club, and a Tuscl member had DMed me to hang out with him and be his wingman so I thought what the heck. Due to my fear of flying, I decided to take a 2,500 mile road trip via I-10. I know some of you may think that it is a long way to drive to see a stripper, but I have been fawning over Melody on the internet for five years ever since she was part of the Melod-Asia feature. Plus, I thought I was going to meet up with Minnow, the sage of Tuscl who has been dishing out needed advice through catchy cliches and aphorisms for many years and seems to be the official unofficial historian of Mons Venus and its quirky owner Joe Redner. My birthday night began when I met a vampire at Bern’s Steakhouse. I was told to look for an older gentleman who said he would be wearing a white shirt. I was greeted by a grey-haired Cuban with a mustache who appeared to be in his early 80s (several decades my senior), reeked of beer, and was wearing a guayabera who said hey sk. The gentleman treated me to shrimp cocktail, tuna tartare, and foie gras, capped off with coffee with spirit as my night cap. My Tuscl buddy was having a good time, and he was resting his leg and or feet on my leg in alternating positions. I did not move my leg for fear that I would insult my Spanish-speaking friend. I told him about my infatuation with Melody, and he discussed the various strip clubs in the Clearwater and Tampa areas. I pulled up to Mons around 9ish which I sensed was a bit too early based on the sparsely populated parking lot, but my buddy claimed it was a sweet spot since we would catch the end of day shift and the beginning of night shift. After paying a $22 entry fee and getting our hands stamped with no name on it so no free re-entry anymore, we decided to sit at the stage and were greeted on stage by an eclectic mix of vixens in their 20s and early 30s, with mostly a slender bent, who were showing off everything. Dayum! This was everything I could dream of when I used to watch those cuties on MVL several years back. While watching the stage action, my old buddy made some small talk such as suggesting that I buy stock in the hair color company L’Oreal after a blue-colored emu started swinging on the poll and asking a lot of questions about the customers and the video cameras in the strip club that my dad owns. After our second Red Bull and throwing stacks of 1s on the stage, my Cuban buddy and I decided to head to the bathroom together. We both said a big hi to the stripper who headed into the adjoining women’s restroom. Anyways, the bathroom attendant indicated one at a time, but my buddy gave him a twenty and told him in Creole to step away for a minute so we went into the small bathroom together. There was a toilet stall with no door and two urinals. We both used the urinals, and he kept looking over at my penis, which I thought was peculiar. Then with my pants still down, he began to rub my shoulders and he got hard. I though Dayum so I pulled up my pants, washed my hands, and got the fuck out of there. So that I could avoid that guy, I then grabbed a stripper who could fill in vicariously for Melody- a big boned sweet Southern gal with big tits, a flat ass, and a little pudgy. Since this was my first time, I wanted it to be special. I paid $60 for a fifteen- minute room and agreed to pre-pay $150 to Melody. When we got to the room, Melody was slow to undress. She began doing a nice little dance about a foot away from my face. At one point, I tried to lick the kitty which resulted in Melody slapping me silly. Nonetheless, my penis was starting to get as hard as the struggles of a Vegas crack whore whose looks have withered away. Soon, my five-year Internet fixation was down on her knees blowing hot air on the crotch area of my pants. I said Dayum as I felt blood rushing to my firm penis shaft as the anticipation was building. About ten minutes into the dance, Melody asked if I wanted more. I said Dayum. She didn’t want to look into my eyes and was probably sickened by me so she sat in my lap backwards so she didn’t have to look at my face. After a minute or so of having this southern gal’s sweet 170-pound frame rub her sweaty ass on my pants that was housing a raging hard boner, I could not stand it anymore. I had abstained from masturbating for two months, and the cum need to come out! I had an orgasmic explosion that resulted in me soaking the front of my pants and my pants’ legs. Melody then said Dayum as she must have felt the moisture on her plump flat ass. She hopped up and said she was not expecting that. She gave me a peck on my cheek and asked for a tip. I gave her a fifty- dollar bill that I had in my back pocket. I gathered my composure and headed out to the parking lot. In the parking lot, guess who was there? The old Cuban guy was singing in Spanish in the direction of the spaceship club and the Mexican restaurant across the street. All I could say was Dayum.