Dilemnas Make Me Hard
Let’s say it’s the Friday before Labor Day, you have a half day, you spend lunch with some work buddies and one of them suggests a trip to a strip joint in a less-than reputable part of town. What would you do?
About 1/2 hour later I found myself trying to park in a parking lot stuffed full of construction trucks and trucks full of real estate signs. A mark of class if I’ve ever seen one. We stumbled through the doors and into the absolute darkest room I’ve ever been in at 3 pm on a September Friday. I’m not exaggerating when I say it took my eyes 30 minutes to adjust. By that time two “dancers” had made their way to our table and were chatting us up about how we didn’t seem pervy and all the other slick stripper games they play. I was planning on just relaxing and having some drinks when a girl stepped on the stage closest to us and caught my eye. She was sportin a faux hawk, peacock earrings and a french lookin v-neck t-shirt. Those of you that know me know I’m a sucker for hipster shit and my eyes were glued to her tiny frame. I told my friend I thought she was hot. He handed me $2 and told me to go for it. I’m not that guy. At least I thought I wasn’t until he told me that if I didn’t do it, he’d do it and tell her it was from me. I went up and looped them under her money collector/garter belt thing and sat down with my drink. First thing I realized was this girl was dead behind the eyes. Soulless yet still dancing…a classic stripper. I sat there for a bit before being overwhelmed at how sad the situation truly was.
A few minutes later she stopped by our table and asked if I wanted a dance. If it weren’t for the liquor I was eagerly funneling into my gullet, this story would’ve ended there. Lucky for you I like Jack. As she lewdly danced her beef curtains inches from my face I started to wonder what kinda pills she had access to and if she was truly dead behind the eyes, or was just having a stripper’s version of “The Monday’s”. I mean they have to get bored too right?
When she’d finished dancing she sat down with my friend and I and the two other strippers. I bought her a drink and soon we were all chatting it up. Minutes later I saw one of the strippers we were enjoying whispering to my small dancing sex nymph. I asked if she was sharing pointers, and she said yeah, she was telling her to not play with her straw so the bouncers wouldn’t get her in trouble for drinking. That’s when I realized I was getting lap dances from a girl who wasn’t old enough to drink.
Most men would pause at that realization and reassess their ethics. I did exactly that and came to the conclusion that I’d been spending the last nine years avoiding completely perfect situations such as the one I’d just been put in. At that point she looked at me and asked if I would give her a massage, pulled her shirt off, sat on my lap completely naked and waited for my magic touch. I shit you not.
Fifteen minutes into her massage, I contemplated what was occurring. I was in a shady strip club in a questionable part of town. A 20 year old stripper was sitting on my lap completely naked and I was rubbing her back as per her request. It was also late afternoon on a Friday. I giggled to myself and thrust my knuckles in all the more.
Suddenly, she jumped up and said, “I’m gonna go make $20.” I said ok and watched her skip over to a 300 pound 50 year old guy. I decided that instead of watching her grind her crotch on decades old bratwurst I’d focus on the rest of our group. I learned the really hot stripper was from Alaska, which also means she has two kids and a relationship with her meth dealer.
Ryan, as she’d introduced herself, came bouncing back to my lap and started to tell me how this bulbous man would regularly pay her to dance, and offer her $150 to come back to his place and blow him, which she would always turn down. We then began to discuss the shadier happenings at the club, such as the private room. She told me how men would pay her $100 to go to the back room and she’d only dance for them. Now I’d always thought that was all that could happen in those back rooms, but she told me that a lot of the girls there would gladly ride a firm piece of bologna for $100. I decried, “Erroneous on all counts!” but she stuck with her story. A few deep discussions about Roe v. Wade later and she asked if I could make out what was happening in the back room. I looked over and through the beads draped over the doorway I could see a girl bouncing up and down on the lap of a reclined male. I looked back at her and informed her of their fucking.
“You know why that’s messed up, those girls are sisters.”
I looked back through the beads and could just make out a girl riding this outstanding citizen’s face. Yes, he had one sister riding his cock and another on his mouth. I knew things like this happened, I just didn’t know they cost so little.
I decided it was time for another drink. Then I drank some more. And at that point I had another drink.
Out of nowhere I realized “Ryan” had been working my crotch like a bike seat for almost an hour. She looked back and asked if I liked sushi. I answered, “Sure!” And that’s when she took my phone, put her number into it, called her own phone and told me I should take her sometime.
With that she jumped off my lap, turned those coke-hungry eyes my way and asked for $90. I payed up and we parted ways.
2 years ago