View Full Version : Post Trip Reports Here
Welcome aboard umf, thanks for sharing! I think that's FBR's fav club isn't it?? Everybody should have to post a TR as their first post!!
Thanks, RH. Yeah, from lurking around and reading the TRs, it seems Cheeks is FBR's home club.
Anyways, I got tired of lurking and decided to jump into the fray here.
UMF
xoxoGracexoxo
12-06-2007, 03:03 PM
I couldn't even begin to describe her physically (with one exception since she has one rather definable physical characteristic) since, at the time, I was more interested in the football game on the big screen that I was with talking to her.
I'm confused, Ed. Are you talking about my hair lip or my third tit?
Susan Wayward
12-06-2007, 04:17 PM
Hi, umf! I spent a couple of my least-profitable stripping months ever at the LR (though it is a nice, laid-back place) when I briefly lived in Cincy. Sorry you're stuck in the land of CCV. Send me some goetta.
Susan Wayward
12-06-2007, 04:17 PM
I'm confused, Ed. Are you talking about my hair lip or my third tit?
I thought for sure it was your prosthetic hand.
Hi, umf! I spent a couple of my least-profitable stripping months ever at the LR (though it is a nice, laid-back place) when I briefly lived in Cincy. Sorry you're stuck in the land of CCV. Send me some goetta.
Susan, well at least you got to meet me ;D
Seriously, I hated to see you go.
RH, yeah Cheeks is my home club although I haven't been there in a few months.
umf, great TR. Welcome to Blue! And thanks to the other PL's for the recent barrage of excellent TRs!
FBR
Hi, umf! I spent a couple of my least-profitable stripping months ever at the LR (though it is a nice, laid-back place) when I briefly lived in Cincy. Sorry you're stuck in the land of CCV. Send me some goetta.
Yeah, I had a case of major culture shock when I moved to Cincy (from another city I believe you are familiar with). And I'll get you some goetta the next time I go to Findlay market! I'd go there more often if my idea of cooking consisted of more than adding milk to cereal.
<snip>
umf, great TR. Welcome to Blue! And thanks to the other PL's for the recent barrage of excellent TRs!
FBR
Thanks, FBR. I read your reviews of a couple of the places in Dayton and appreciated the info!
crizgolfer
12-07-2007, 12:46 PM
Hmmm...tryiing to decide if I should post THE LODGE, Part 2....or wait until I have completed THE LODGE, Part 3....it is an awesome club...
crizgolfer
12-07-2007, 07:17 PM
THE LODGE, Part 2....
I loved this club last weekend, so I when I needed a little down time I could not think of a better place for it. A bunch of people from work were going to do Karoake and begging me to come along. I really don't feel like hanging out with "work" people much and adding to it the choice of Karoake vs. hot naked women. Well, it took about .2227 seconds of deep thought to come to a decision.
The greatest accomplishment on this nights trip was that I was able to find my way there and back without a GPS. Yes, I am quite an accomplished individual. I did not even make yet another trip through the airport. It seems that every time I drive somewhere down here I end up driving aimlessly through the airport.
I show up around 8 pm. Find a seat and order the first drink from a very appealinig 40-ish waitress. I broke down a couple of my hundreds so I would have some change for lap dance "samples". I sat enjoying the first drink and watching a little of the game. The game was quite enjoyable as it met the standards of any true Packer fan (the Bears were losing ;) ).
After a bit a cute young lady took a seat on my lap. She was very intelligent and sweet. She had the most "Texas accent" I have heard from anyone since I have been here. I was surprised when she told she was from Pennsylvania (go figure). After a bit of nice convo broken up by a couple of decent lap dances, she moved on. As nice as she was she was not the ONE for the evening.
It did not take long for the ONE to drag my ass out of my comfy chair. An incredibly sexy Colombian lady. She takes a seat on my lap and starts the introductory small talk. After a minute she says, "So baby, you want to have some fun?" Without waiting for an answer she grabs my hand and starts leading me to a corner of the club. No protest here. Damn, first night it was a Russian and now a Colombian...I need to get my passport updated...
She moves a table out of the way and slides a chair in the corner. "You sit there", she says. You got it girl. She is taking charge and I am enjoying the "game". She begins the dance.
Now, I figure she did not bring me to an out of the way corner, because she is shy. I was right. She was all over me and using every stipper line in the book. She is taking my hands and moving them over all her parts including the Golden Palace of the Himalayas. Now, I have documented on here that I am not an extras guy, but I admit she had me thinking about crossing to the dark side. Shit man, she was so sexy. I like sensual more than heavy. She had both elements and it was tripping all my triggers. Oh, those eyes.
This went on for a while (Time? What is time?). She would dance a few songs, then I would tell her to take a break. She would sit on my lap and tell me wonderful things about me (Heavy SS here). Then the dances would start again.
Finally, I figured it was time to end the game. After all, a man needs some sleep. I took out my remaining Benjamins and threw a few of the twenties on top of it. Time to go. She wanted me to stay (ya think?) . She asked how long I was gong to be in town and told me to call her if I need her. She requested my phone, but I rarely take it into a club. When I am on the road my phone rings constantly and being inside the club is my only freedom.
She starts trying to commit me to a night for a return trip. I tell her I am not sure. Yeah, she loves me for my hair, my eyes, my smile, my lips...heehe...yeah. There is definitely more on the menu OTC and she is very tempting, but I still have not been coaxed into the dark side...yet...
Part 3 will occur Saturday night. Tomorrow will be a fairly light work day and by the time night rolls around I will be ready to get out a bit. Gentlemen, if you are ever in Dallas I would recommend that you check this place out. It is without a doubt one of the best clubs I have been to. The women are gorgeous and there is a variety. If you like the nice, sweet clean dancer. She is here and she is gorgeous. If you want a wider variety on the menu. She is here and she is gorgeous.
Howie
12-08-2007, 05:57 PM
Stopped by a club this afternoon to kill some time. Nothing exciting to report, but when i got home my dog went wild. He usually doesn't get upset if I have strange dog smell on me, but every time I visit a SC and go home he goes wild. Follows me thru the house sniffing my pants.
3-Legged Man
12-08-2007, 09:59 PM
I've been thru that too, with our Chihuahua. Although only the shirt gets the heavy perfume, there's still enough scent on my pants to make the dog notice.
GenWar
12-10-2007, 01:58 PM
I'm back. Fasten your seatbelts, pack a lunch and say goodbye to your loved ones.
Happy Holidays! }:D
-gen
========================
Ah, NYC. The Big Apple. THE City. The center of the known universe. Whatever you call it, New York is a great town. The wingman and I were there for a 4-day weekend which just ended. Naturally, there were some club trips. We visited the "typical Manhattan Club" where I got to pay $22 for a red bull and Vodka, a "Neighborhood club" in Queens where I got to be ignored by the girls for not being a regular (and/or speaking fluent Russian) and we had another, rather unique experience. Unique enough that I figured I would end my TR drought with another epic.
It started out a week before the trip. I texted the wingman with a website which had some information about a "private club" that seemed to match our interest. He responded that he wasn't terribly interested, primarily because of the large amount of the cover charge. I confirmed my understanding but I specifically left a night blank on the itinerary, in secret hope. You know how thrilled I would be to check out a club doing things a bit differently than the norm. Well, the day in question rolls around and, `lo and behold, the wingman is a bit flusher than he previously anticipated. He starts dropping hints about checking it out. At first, I thought he was just messing with me, as he is wont to do, but, as we are walking back to the car to change from day clothes to night clothes, he confirms that he is seriously interested.
As he is changing, I dig out the address of the club and pocket the paper. We get all our crap together and tip the valet to put the car back and head back out onto the street. Now, I remember that the club is BYOB, so I need to find some alcohol. I check a couple of corner stores with no luck. I do some asking around before we finally stumble upon a liquor store. It is 10 minutes after 11 but they are still open because some guy is trying to talk the clerk down on a $7 bottle of VSOP. I am able to sneak in and get a fifth of Grey Goose while they argue. The clerk says, "I should have been closed by now." to the guy, by way of negotiating tactic but I note that I lucked out...as I would have missed the deadline. I am tempted to buy the guy his cheap cognac but he doesn't look like the type of fellow around whom you want to pull out several hundred dollars in cash and then be generous.
We head out and around the corner, walking over to the cross streets listed on the paperwork. One thing fun about Midtown NYC is that you can find anything with cross streets, right? Wrong. We get there and there is no club. We look in every direction and nothing. Ummm...ok? We think for a minute before I notice a internet cafe. I head in and an ancient Chinese man with a grey comb-over and the voice of a much much younger man sells us 30 minutes for $5. I pop over to the club website and, guess what? No address. No location of any kind. There is a phone number, the same one I have on my page of information. But we left our cell phones in the car. So I get change for a $1 from the wizened clerk and head out to the payphone. I call. takes the WHOLE $1 in change. Get recording. Recording gives another number. I hold the liquor while the wingman returns to the internet cafe for more change. He gives it to me and I dial a second number. It is answered with something unintelligible. "Ummm, is this <club name>?" "Yep," comes the reply. "Err...We'd like to come by?" I say. The guy grunts a little but says "sure." and takes my name and my number of guests. He then quotes the cover charge, as if to confirm that we are serious, and gives me an address a half block up. We literally walked right by that address.
We head back up the block and find the address. An unmarked office building. Glass door. Locked. Guy inside talking on cell phone. Not dressed as a bouncer or in anything remarkable. He walks over and pushes a button on the wall. The door unlocks and the wingman opens it. We walk it. It is an unfinished lobby with a dirty tile floor and bare plywood walls. No signs or marking of any kinds. We follow the hally back to a freight elevator that is absolutely filthy. We get in and the door shuts. We look at each other and realize neither of us knows what button to push. I push door open and head back into the hallway. I walk towards the guy, who is still talking on the phone. Before I say anything, he removes the phone from his ear and says a number and returns to his coversation. Surmising that the three digit number is a suite number, I return to the elevator and punch the first digit of the number, which would logically be the floor. The wingman looks at me and raises an eyebrown. I smirk and comment, "If it comes to it, just put your back against mine and start swinging. We may not make it but we can take as many of em with us as possible." He chuckles.
The door opens and we are again in a bare hallway. No signs. Plywood walls. A single sticker on one wall features a gold arrow pointing left. A little down the hall is a double door with an intercom in the middle of it. The intercom has a button and a number written in Red Sharpie (tm). It is the number in question. I push the button and a tone starts going off. After 5 seconds, the door opens and a plainly dressed but pretty blond pokes her head out. She looks us up and down for a half second before opening the door wide and ushering us in. She smiles invitingly and asks us if we are members. We state that we are not and she quotes us a membership fee and a cover charge that is the number we expect. I won't quote the number but, suffice it to say, it was the same price as the leaf blower I bought the wife this fall and she says it is strong enough to blow her over if she doesn't hold it right. More? Ok...about twice the cost of the bottle of Grey Goose. And remember, I bought it at a corner liquor shop in Manhattan. We cough up the cash and she nods us in. I give her a charming smile and ask if she could give us a rough lay of the land. She does.
To our right are two separate dance rooms. You must be escorted by a dancer to go in there. The big door on the left leads to the main room, coat check and bathrooms to the left, bar to the right. The layout is NICE...well decorated with a nice floor, black painted ceiling with soft lighting and high chairs along the wall, occupied by various individuals of indeterminate purpose. The lap dance rooms are noticeably darker. I wander up the hall, nodding and smiling at the various people lounging around. There is a small room/hall and then a much larger main room. The far wall contains various couches and benches and there are chairs scattered. It isn't busy but many of the couches are occupied. These people are more easily read, some clearly being customers and others being dancers. I approach the bar as the wingman checks his coat. The bar is small and has only 5 seats. There is a bartender, a tall, strikingly good looking fellow in a pink shirt. I watch as he pours drinks for a customer, nothing that the bottle he is using is marked by a Post-it (tm) with "Dan" written on it. Presumably the customer is "Dan". I hand him my bottle of grey goose and the six pack I bought at the convenience store when I had despaired of ever finding a liquor store. He puts a piece of masking tape on each and writes my name on it. He then asks me for a mixer and I choose Sugar Free Red Bull. He makes me a large one, stiff with my vodka and then pours a coke from a two-liter bottle for the wingman. I give a smile and an Abe for his trouble (and his good will towards the protection of my vodka.)
I turn and look around. The wingman waits behind me, knowing I will choose seats and not wanting to bother to argue with me about them. I wander back to the far side of the room, passing a buffet table along the wall with finger food trays (cheese/crackers, vegetables, dip, etc) that have been well picked over. I spot a leather sectional along the back corner and sit in the prime corner spot. The wingman settles off to my left. I look around some more. There are few girls milling about but most are seated with a customer. There is also a projection screen with a porn movie playing. It is a good movie...high production value without any dialogue and a director that went to at least 2 years of film school. I watch it for a bit before the first girl comes by. She is a thin brunette who seems shy. It quickly proves to be lack of language as she is barely able to ask for a dance in English. I turn her away. I love Eastern European women, especially their accents, but they have to be able to carry on a conversation. She tries the wingman but he shakes his head and she moves on. A Couple of minutes later, I see an Asian girl with a curvy figure approach. I give her smile and she sits between me and the wingman on my left and starts to chatting us up. She asks if we are with the bachelor party and gestures at the glasses on the table and the configuration of the chairs. Sure enough, it is apparent that a large party occupied our area at some point. I confirm that I am not. She continues the generic questions (Who? What? Where? etc.) for a bit. I am clearly involved but the wingman is a bit distant.
GenWar
12-10-2007, 02:00 PM
Eventually, another girl approaches him and she turns to me. I ask her about her national origin. She reveals that she is from Kazakhstan. We chat about it and about the state of the former Soviet Republics. I admit that I am not 100% clear on the geographical location of her country and she pulls out her phone to show me a map. "You have a map on your phone?" I ask...she nods, saying, "I always tell people where I am from and they go, 'Yeah, but you're Chinese, right?'" We laugh at this and I see the location of the rather large country on her tiny Sprint phone screen. I make a mental note to seek more ladies from Kazakhstan; especially if, like her, they are a mix of the exoticness of the women of the Far East and the rough hewn beauty and curves of the women of the Soviet Bloc.
We chat for a while longer, well past her earning the right, and she goes for the offer. I accept gladly and it is back to the dance room. The dance room is cool. It is clearly designed by someone with a brain. There are couches and big comfy chairs and a bed. In total, there are about 7 dance stations and between a couple of well placed self-standing screens and a after-market wall midway through the room, they are all at-least semi-private, if not MOSTLY private. They are facing angles and in corners and you just can't easily or surreptiously watch anyone else’s dance. It is a sweet setup. As we go in and proceed to the far back corner couch, there is a guy getting a bed dance. Presumably it is early in the dance, as the dancer is jumping up and down on the bed with her feet on either side of him. They are both clearly amused by this as I pass them.
Miss D (for that is her name) gestures at a seat for me and steps out of her shoes and outfit. She starts dancing midway through a soft Sade song. (The music in the dance room is different from the music in the main room.) It is a very subtle song and I worry that I am not going to get my full money's worth. She keeps up the conversation during the dance, something I like, if it is done right. She does it right and keeps up until the END of the next song, effectively giving me a dance and a half. I am very happy and I thank her. I pay up and head back to the main room. I stop off and introduce myself to the bartender, John. I ask him to make my next one in a large glass and he does, again with the healthy quantity of vodka. I take it and head back. I see a coach in the corner away from the bachelor party and gesture for the wingman to move. We head to the other couch and, on the way, we meet up with a cute petite brunette with a sunny smile. She attaches herself to us as we walk and asks why we are moving. "Because I absolutely HAVE to get this out of my pocket..." I tell her, reaching deep into my right pocket. She gets a bit of a worried look, imagining the worst but I produce a handful of Lifesaver (tm) mints which I drop on the table next to the new couch. She laughs, explaining that she was expecting "something bad". I drop another handful on the table and say "Like what?" "I dunno, drugs, condoms, whatever..." She introduces herself as Miss C and sits between us on the couch. We start a three way conversation that is mostly me. Miss C has a talent for prompting the conversation and I am buzzing on about 20% of the vodka consumed so far, so I am just rambling on and on. Miss C has a lot of common interests as the Wingman and I, so we actually have a fair amount to talk about. After like 15 minutes of incessant conversation, I say, "I am doing all the talking, I am just gonna shut up know. "And I do...The wingman is not a talker and she can't carry the conversation by herself, so she gamely tries for a bit and I chime in a bit (can't help it.) She then announces, in no uncertain terms, that she needs to use the ladies room (if you know what I mean.) She excuses herself.
The wingman raises an eyebrow. "We need new seats," I say. "Damn right." he replies. The couch is in a corner and seats three. If me and Miss C are going to chat, he is not going to get a single approach, as there is no place for the lady to sit. I get up and move to the next couch over, across from the projection porn movie. I sit on the lounge portion of this sectional and the wingman sits at the other end, leaving two seats behind us. Miss C returns and makes an offer but I am not feeling a dance right then. I let her know that I definitely want to partake but not currently. She agrees with skeptical eyes and excuses herself to "work the room." As soon as she is up, she beelines for a particular couple, so I am betting they were regulars. I lounge back and watch the movie for a bit as a blonde approaches the wingman and chats him up briefly before leading him away. The movie is actually quite good. It is a girl on girl film with a bit of a foot fetish motif. I remember my drunken mind proposing the thought, "The only reason FBR doesn't prefer the two girl lap dance is because he hasn't seen this movie." Truth is, the movie was HOT.
As my drink gets lower and lower, I realize that I am drunk. And I like it. :) I get up and go to get another drink but I have no ones. I ask the girl at the front door but she has none. She sends me to the coat check girl who can only spare 5. I take them and go see John for another drink. He pours it just like I like em and I head back to my seat.
I get approached by a pretty Latina with a nice outfit. She plops down next to me on the sectional and starts to chat. She is also quite drunk and we are having a nice drunk talk...as I recall, she disagreed with my spelling of my first name and was advocating me changing it. I was defending my choice of unusual spelling. We had more of this pointless chatter (it always seems so poignant when you are in the throes of intoxication) and she started to move in closer and closer, presumably as a sales technique.
The problem was, the closer she got, the more I could smell her breath, which smelled STRONGLY of pot. It was more and more of a turn off to the point that, when she finally did her offer, I was giving an unequivocal "No." She had earned it and she seemed like a nice dance but the smell was making me a little bit ill. She stormed off just as the wingman returned and got in the line forming to my left. I saw that the line was forming for a buffet they were putting out. I watched as the girls formed up and went carefully through a line, loading up on Caesar salad, broccoli, baked Ziti with cheese and some sort of chicken dish in olive oil. I think it is kind of funny that the girls are first in line. Shouldn't they wait for the customers to eat?
After the line dies out, I get up and make a plate. I am kind of hungry and I figure I better toss something at the vodka if I am going to retain any memories. The wingman passes on food, claiming a lack of hunger. I eat quickly, feeling like I am burning time. The food wasn't bad but won't win any awards. Still, what can you expect from a club buffet? After eating, I clean up a bit and pop a mint
I am sitting back, sucking on my drink and lamenting a lack of cigar when a razor thin Asian girl approaches and asks to join me. I make room on the couch and she sits. Her name is Miss R and she chats me up briefly. She is pretty sober so she has little trouble dancing verbal circles around me with little effort. I am getting a definite "bored" vibe from her and I endeavor to cheer her up. I try stories, jokes and other obnoxious behavior without much luck. I then realize I am dry and am going for a drink. I offer her one and she agrees, asking for a random fruit juice mixer. I head up to the bar and John is seated there, eating from the buffet. There is another dude that is covering. I give him the order and tip and head back to the seats, handing Miss R her drink. I take a couple of sips and realize my error. The other guy has poured it normal...I can barely taste the vodka. I frown and try stirring it to no avail. I ask Miss R if her drink is light but she says it is just fine. I just shrug and keep sipping.
As we talk, behind her (she has taken my lounge seat and left me to sit on the couch next to her) they are making up one of the couches. A Sofa bed has been pulled out and a brown floral comforter has been placed on it. He then puts folding chairs around that couch (between it and where we are sitting) and moves other chairs to make a circle around it in all directions. "What's that?" I ask Miss R. She tells me they are going to do a show. "Oh?" I ask. She confirms and tells me that she has to leave. "Go?" "I don't want to be here for the show." "Why not?" I ask. "Sometimes, they grab you to participate and I am not real comfortable with it." I shrug. "OK." she thanks me for the drink and promises to find me later and departs.
GenWar
12-10-2007, 02:00 PM
As I watch, people fill in all around the "show" and then three girls come in and get on the couch. They then proceed to "enjoy each other's company" if you know what I mean. First they undress each other. Then they open a suitcase filled with sex toys and a big 20 pack of condoms. Well, I won't go into gory detail but soon, all the folding chairs are filled, including by me and the wingman, as we move up for a better view. They show is long...after about 5 minutes; a girl sits next to the wingman and starts watching and chatting with him. As we watch, some guy in the back of the crowd keeps loudly saying, "Feel free to put in a tip at any time." No one does, but he keeps saying it. After about 10 minutes, I feel weird that no one is tipping. These are some hard working ladies. I go up to the bar. I ask John for some ones to tip and I give him $5. He reachs in his tip can and pulls out 5 $1s. Drunken Judgment kicks in. "Do you have anymore?" I ask. "How many you need?" He replies. "All of em." I tell him. He shrugs and goes through the big metal urn, in earnest. He produces 19 $1s and smiles sheepishly. I give him a $20 and smile back. So now, I have $28 in ones in my hand, my entire supply. You know what I am thinking, right? I head back over to the couch.
Before I can do anything, I just stand, a bit stunned. The intensity of the show has gone up several notches and all I can do is watch, dumbfounded. I lean my back against a convenient wall and just enjoy the entertainment, the $1s hanging forgotten in one hand. After a few minutes, Miss C wanders by. She sees me, smiles, turns away and starts backing slowly up to me until she is RIGHT in front of me. She glances over a shoulder and grins at me. I am staring at the show and, I believe, using the sum total of my available functioning brain power to not drool. She sees the $1s in my hand and inquires. "For tipping," I tell her. "All of em?" she asks. I hold them in front of her. "You want to?" She takes them. "Sure, how were you going to it?" I grin. "Hey, I am just a hard working black man...surely you know how this ends." "Well, it's a good thing I came along, isn't it?" She does a good job of concealing the contempt in her voice but we both know it is there. I am too drunk to care.
She walks forward, as the girls on the bed began to rearrange themselves for something different. She takes the ones and begins tucking them in various places that she can find to tuck them. Not gross places but in their boots, etc. It is tricky because they aren't wearing much, but she manages to distribute them. They thank her and then smile at me in thanks. Then one of them takes Miss C and kisses her full on the lips, cocking at eye at me the whole time, to make sure I am watching. I try to look cool and dispassionately pleased like the suave, debonair player I am. I am sure it came off as drunk and panting but it's the effort that counts.
Miss C comes back over and decides I need to sit. She leads me to the seat and we sit and chat as the show winds down. As they are cleaning up the chairs and putting the bed away, the wingman returns from his dances and sits on the couch. We are all sitting there chatting when some other random dude comes up and sits on the couch in the available seat behind the wingman. It is weird sharing a seat with a random customer but it is apparently how things go here. After a bit, I need another drink, so I head up to the bar. It is busy, so I wait patiently for John to catch up with the demand and look around. There is a large breasted blonde with a full, pouty mouth who grins at me. She tells me to find her if petite blondes are my thing. I admit that I might. Finally, John starts pouring my drink. As I wait for him to complete, I glace to my right. There is an Asian dude in a baseball cap standing behind me to that side. He has a brown paper bag inside a white plastic bag. Before I can stop myself, I say the first racist remark that pops into my head, "Hey man. Do you have a delivery?" He looks at me, confused and says, "What?" I reply, "Do you have any General Tso's in there?" I am immediately struck at my own rudeness. The sober me that is currently locked in a tiny portion of the brain is screaming, "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY?!!?!?!" The bar gets real quiet for a second. Then the guy kind of laughs and reaches into the bag and pulls out a six pack of corona and hands it to John. I immediately apologize and try to take it back, calling myself a dick to emphasize how bad I feel. He shrugs and says, "Don't worry about it." I take my drink and beat a hasty retreat, rejoining the wingman and Miss C.
The lounge part of the sectional is half taken by a couple of other guys who are talking to a brunette standing next couch over. I just sit up on the couch part, next to Miss C. As I sit, sure enough, the guy comes over and and stands next to the brunette, joining his friends, who are seated right there. AS I watch out of the corner of my eye, the guy tells his friends what I said. One of his two buddies frowns at me but the other laughs, obviously finding it funny. I decide to apologize again, so I lean over and tell him I'm sorry again. The wingman overhears and demands to know what I did. So I tell him and Miss C the story. The wingman just shakes his head but Miss C finds it funny. She is sharp enough not to laugh but her eyes swim a little. The brunette standing with the guy says something like, "Wait, I don't understand. You're a race, too." which forces us to all stop and stare at her for a second, like, "WHAT?" before the wingman replies, "Well, we're really ALL a race, right?" So, of course, we are now all talking. The Brunette reveals that she is from Boston and is a Red Sox fan. So we talk sports for a while but most of the group is Yankee fans. We bash her a bit for being a Red Sox fan and I said some bad stuff about the Patriots and the Celtics too, for good measure, I guess. She starts to get offended and a little pissed off, so I back off it. She has a good head of steam though and wants to appear tough so she says I should pay her because I was mean to her teams. I shrug and pull out $5 and hand it over to her. She takes it and looks at it and then gets offended that I paid her, which she realizes makes absolutely no sense. She is going to say something more but Miss C draws my attention and asks if we can do our dances. I readily agree. but I need another drink. So she leaves to take care of something, promises to come back for me.
I head up to the bar. I ask John for another but he says he can't. He shows me my bottle and the grey goose is almost gone. There is barely enough for a couple of shots, not nearly enough for one of my red bull/vodka's. So, I have him pour the shots and I conscript a couple of random dudes near the bar to help me do them. We toast and drink them down. I think ask for one from my six pack. He pours it into a glass for me and I take a couple of sips. Miss C walks up and takes me by the hand.
Back to the dance room. We find a seat...the worst one but the only one available, up by the door. I seat on the couch and she gives me a couple of REAL good dances. I enjoy them and thank her. As I am getting ready to leave, I notice that my drink has disappeared. Like, cup and all. I ask her what happened and she says that they are REAL zealous about cleaning up...I can't leave it unattended for so long. Long? 2 dances is long. I ask her, "How many dances did we do?" "five." she replies. "Five??" She nods. As I have already paid and I thought we did 2, I ask, "Are we square?" She nods and smiles and thanks me. So I shrug and I wander off. I decide to hit the bathroom. After I wash my hands, I count up. Yep. Five. That is a bad sign.
(Memory Fuzzy at this point. Might have to check with the wingman for 100% accuracy on the rest of the evening.)
I head back to the bar and sit there, asking for another drink. The wingman sees me and joins me there. I look at him. He looks at me. I ask him what time it is. He tells me. `bout 40 minutes to close. I note that he wants to leave. He nods. I ask him to look at John and tell me tomorrow if he is really THAT good looking or if I am beer goggling it. John laughs out loud at this, as the wingman promises me to do just that in the voice you use for drunk people and little children that says, "I have no intention of doing what you ask but I want you to shut up so I am going to falsely agree." I turn in my chair to the other side. Seated next to me is the brunette from earlier, the one from Boston. I smile at her. She doesn't smile back. I introduce myself and she politely does the same (Miss S). She then informs me than I am a very unpleasant individual, though not quite using that exact phrasing. I apologize for that and we start chatting. Can't remember what we talked about but I remember that she was not being nice to me and that I didn't care. Eventually, she went with an offer and was surprised when I accepted.
Back in the dance room, she gave me two very energetic dances. By energetic, I mean, she slapped me around. She was REALLY rough. But, drunk as I was, I kinda liked it. I felt no need to stop her. When they were done, I thanked her and paid for two dances. She stopped me and said that I owed her twice as much. I counted the dances that time and was sure it was two. She said it was two but that it was full nude. I checked. Yep...no bottom. I vaguely remember it being twice as much for nude dances. I had no memory at all of agreeing to it but the damage was done. I paid her the rest of the money and resolved to never again buy dances from dancers that I had pissed off. :/
I head back to the bar where the wingman was waiting patiently, bored out of his skull. I agree to leave and we gather up the rest of my six pack and the mints. As we are leaving, the manager/owner comes up and thanks us for coming. I tell him what a great place he has and he makes appreciative noises. He then offers to give us the tour. We agree and he walks us around the place, showing us the back and the private rooms. It really is a sweet setup and I tell him so. We talk a little about history of the place and business models of strip clubs. The wingman is bored but I could talk about this stuff for hours. Finally, we head out the front and back down the elevator and out onto the street. It was a very cold night and a long walk back to the car and I didn't feel it for a second. Good times...
lestat1
12-10-2007, 06:16 PM
Now THAT was an epic TR Gen; very nice! You probably had more conversation in your one visit than I've had in all of my 11 years worth of visits. :P
mortalman
12-10-2007, 07:23 PM
Very entertaining report Gen, sounds like a fun time
Lapaholic
12-11-2007, 07:04 AM
"You're a race too!" lol ... Great Report .... Ive done my reading for the year!!!!
Howie
12-11-2007, 11:24 AM
Nice report. A perfect example of why I don't drink and why I hate being around drunks. That was pretty rude what you said to the other dude.
crizgolfer
12-11-2007, 05:18 PM
Gen...that was a trip report...I think I need more bandwidth...
crizgolfer
12-11-2007, 06:08 PM
THE LODGE, PART 3...
Okay, with all Stripperweb advice on how to score a stripper I show up prepared. I have a bag of pony shaped cookies, 46" HDTV, some kittens, and a toothless pony (I spent the day housetraining it). Wow, it worked...I was like a stripper vortex. They were flying at me with such force I was nearly knocked unconscious...
Okay, now that I have that out of the way I will tell you what really happenned. This being my third trip to a club is a bit of an oddity. I really have not found many clubs that I enjoy lately. Have not hit too many. Most visits the last few months have been when I spend some time with an old ATF when she is in town. I have been wondering if the novelty has been wearing off. The Lodge has changed that a bit and I figure while I am in town I will get as much fun out of it as I can. My next trips are into the middle of nowhere...Chehalis, WA....if anyone has any info on this area I would appreciate it.
So I show up around 10 pm on a Monday night. There is a pretty good crowd mostly dressed in business type attire. I find a decent seat on the main floor a bit difficult to find, so I plant myself on a seat near some steps. Not an ideal location, but gives me a reasonable view to assess the talent.
I wait what seems like forever for a waitress, but they are pretty busy so I cut some slack. I tip waitresses well, so once I order my first drink I have little problem getting return service.
Finally, I get a light beer. Not really in the mood for anything hard so the typical Jack & Coke is put on the back burner. About the time my drink arrives I spot a beautiful blond dancer on the far "stage." To explain how this is setup. In the main room there is one main stage (no pole). On the other end of the room there is a smaller stage with a pole. Then off to the side of the room one table away from me is another small stage with a pole. There is also one small stage in an elevated area near some booths.
I am watching this dancer and really enjoy her. She has that look and mannerism that tells me she is the ONE for the evening. After the song ends she rotates over the the little stage near me. I want to get her attention and ensure she looks me up so I approach her with tip in hand. Place it in her thong and ask her to come see me when she is done. I looked over my shoulder on the way back to the table and she was smiling, laughing, and nodding her head. She had finally noticed the tip was $20. There really aren't much in the way of stage tips in this place. I figured a 20 would give her the picture.
The song ended and she had to move to the last little stage. On the way she stopped by introduced herself and told me she had one more song and then she would join me. Once again I could tell she was european. I sat nejoying my drink and watching a little of the game. I was approached a few times in the span by other dancers and I politely declined their company.
She finally was done with her stage time and took a seat on the arm of my chair. She asked me if I wanted to find a cozier seat to which I obliged. We moved up to a booth on the back wall.
She was very nice looking blonde. Kind of petite, but nicely shaped with a great smile when she used it (I am a sucker for a nice smile). She was from Hungary. Three trips here: One Russian, One Columbian, and now a Hungarian. This place is like the United Nations with Benefits.
The conversation started kind of slow. She even seemed a bit nervous. I began to think that maybe this was not the ONE, but since I flagged her over I figured I would own up to a few dances. After all, she was drop dead gorgeous. She started a four dance set. Her dances were real good. I don't feel like going into details, other than to say they were clean dances and they were very good dances. She perked up a bit during the set. At the end of song four she asked if she could take a break. I was thinking the same thing.
Now, the conversation was better and her smile was brighter. After a couple songs she started dancing again. The conversation continued during the dances and her smiles where getting bigger and bigger. She did not seem so "nervous" anymore. She completed another four song set and then took a break. I had offered her a drink, but she said she wanted to avoid alcohol. I suggested a soda or water to which she agreed. Once the waitress came by she order a Jack & Coke. This sudden change spurred me on to ordering a Jack & Coke also. My favorite drink.
As we sat and talked there was something very refreshing about her. There was absolutely no SS. It was just a real good conversation. We talked about travel, work, americans, ungary, famiily, friends, etc. It was a nice genuine conversation without any of the "hey baby, you are making me so wet" talk.
She started up another set of dances. The dances were getting better and better. She was loosening up a bit, but still maintaining her "clean" status. I found that very appealing. The chosen dancers in my previous visits were offering OTC action. This one was not. I just wanted a nice time and nice company and she was providing it.
Now we are into another conversation and still no SS. How refreshing is that! We finish our drinks and she begins another round of dances. She says there is only time for three more as she has to go on stage. She tells me that she does not have to go on stage if I buy a shot, but by now it is past midnight I have a 5 am wake up call so I decline.
After the dances are done she sits and talks for a minute. That wonderful smile is glowing. She asks if I will come back before leaving town. I am not sure again as it all depends on how work goes the over the next few days. Now, for the first time she really compliments me, "I want you to come back. You are a good customer, but you are also a very nice person." I take all compliments in the scenario with a grain of salt, but it sounded genuine enough.
I handed her my card and told her to call me or email me if she ever wanted. She gives me a nice kiss on the lips and with that I am out the door and on the road. The only question that remains is which group she falls into...the one of ten (that actually makes contact)....or...the nine of ten. No expecations here, but I would like to hear from her. I really enjoyed her and quite frankly liked her.
SportsWriter2
12-11-2007, 08:14 PM
Now, for the first time she really compliments me, "I want you to come back. You are a good customer, but you are also a very nice person."
She may want to marry you and stay in America.
Seriously, this is one of my favorite TR's ever, because it captures a perception and a connection. It's hard to feel it for someone who's an obviously dirty dancer. :-\
Jay Zeno
12-11-2007, 09:00 PM
The following events turned out to be a bit of a cross between the doc at Hooters and a story in a Seinfeld episode.
I never figured it out. Maybe it was too much salad. Maybe it was too much coffee. Maybe it was a result of meeting with a lawyer. But for whatever reason, as I entered the new (to me) club, there were ominous rumblings, somewhere south of the pyloric valve, of future distress, like distant thunder on the horizon. Nevertheless, I was here to have fun, so have fun is what I would do. I can be stoic about my bodily functions. So I thought.
I circulated a bit, got beckoned by ladies I had little interest in, got ignored by the ones I did, and got treated best by the waitress. Fairly normal club routine. Then a fetching creature wrenched herself away from her clinging but apparently cheap fucko and started moving through the attendees, being friendly, looking great. No one stopped her. She moved ever closer to where I sat, sipping, keeping track of her out of the corner of my eye, turning to lock eyes with her whenever she might be looking my way, which didn't really happen.
The gastric rumblings turned into a low-grade growl. Like a leopard wanting out of its cage. Oh, great.
And there she was. She introduced herself as Mimi (not really, but she looked like a Mimi), and inquired after my state of happiness. I lied and said I was fine all over. I talked like I wanted to talk some more and offered her a drink. She declined, holding up a water bottle, which meant she was either transient or considerate. Or maybe simply detached. I opted for considerate, since she stayed and chatted.
She was quite charming. My gut was not. The leopard was turning into a tiger that wanted out just as badly but had more power behind it. At one point, Mimi turned and talked to a coworker, and in a desperate move to relieve some pressure, I floated a tiny mousesqueak of a release, a mere dot of olfactory essence. But the result was the whiff of an egg left baking in the sun for a day, then breaking open, and catching fire. I decided to clench my, uh, teeth and tough it out for the sake of Mimi's fine company.
We entered the courtship dance phase, and I was conflicted by my inner biological demands. Then she informed me that she was due on the stage in another song or two. We could have a dance or two now before the stage, or would I prefer to wait? I then realized that if this fair lady were to perch herself on my distended and turbulent abdomen, the angry inner tiger would finally transform to a full pride of enraged lions that no mere human could be certain to contain.
I suggested that we wait till after her set. For the next two songs, under our talkative surface, our plans were being hatched, hers on her strategies to make me entirely happy about pouring out my money to her, and me thinking of my trip to the men's room with all the relish of a Bedouin traipsing to the oasis after a month in the burning sand.
She was called and sashayed to her appointed place. I sauntered to the bathroom, pride barely holding back the quickened, frantic pace that my distressed body so desperately called for.
No one was around the men's room door. I pushed through to the tiled interior. Ah. Alone. No one there to be victimized by the upcoming eruption. I entered the stall and lowered myself, gratefully.
I found out that what was contained was not a predator cat, after all. No, it was a moose. A bull moose. A badly wounded and terrified bull moose, trapped within granite canyon walls. At least, that's how it sounded. The moose's howl shook the walls of the stall, escaped upward, and began ricocheting off those tiled walls. And it did not stop. My viscera felt and sounded like one of those giant fucking party balloons, pumped up but not tied off, and the air within was being let out slowly and loudly. The moose continued his howl of sorrow, of pain, of longing, until finally, an interminable time later, he expired, completely spent.
Seconds later, relieved and oddly intimidated by the experience, I was washing and drying my hands. But the rumblings were not over. A new animal was coming to life. God only knows how this one would turn out. I thought about going back into the club to make googoo eyes with Mimi, and my will to live faded.
I left the men's room, and there were my worst fears. Several dancers and customers were congregated outside the door, trying not to snicker as I exited. I bravely looked them straight in the eye, shook my head, pointed my thumb back over my shoulder to the men's room, said, "That poor guy!" and while their tittering faded and they looked past me reflexively to the closing door, I walked past them, to the door of the club, and out into the bright afternoon sun, perhaps never to return.
Chili Palmer
12-11-2007, 09:05 PM
POTY.
Lapaholic
12-11-2007, 09:28 PM
JZ - very funny... only more so because I have felt your pain lol...
lestat1
12-11-2007, 09:40 PM
JZ, LMAO! I'm suprised that you didn't have to go back to the stall after washing your hands for round two. It sounded like a multi-seat experience, of which I've had too many.
crizgolfer
12-12-2007, 05:52 AM
She may want to marry you and stay in America.
Seriously, this is one of my favorite TR's ever, because it captures a perception and a connection. It's hard to feel it for someone who's an obviously dirty dancer. :-\
Thanks for the reply. Please elaborate a little. I am interested in your thoughts regarding the "perception and connection" as you see it. I am curious.
I don't think so on the marriage thing. I didn't get that impression in the least. Now, just because I said she laid off the SS does not mean I don't think she was hustling. It was just a refreshing approach. I enjoyed it and enjoyed her company. If she were to contact me would I go back into the club to see her again? Yeah, I would if I had the time.
As for the dirty dancer assessment. I would need to know your definition of a dirty dancer. My definition would be one that engages in acts of prostitution. The dancers in the first couple posts I made were offerring OTC action. This one did not. Even when she tried to invite me back...it was back to the club...not back to her place.
Jay, no fair making me bust a gut laughing :) The business year is closing and I'm worried about finishing in the black. I need to stay grumpy.
FBR
rippyd
12-12-2007, 10:48 PM
Great TRs, crizgolfer. I'll be in Dallas for business this summer. It already looks like I know which club I'll be patronizing.
crizgolfer
12-14-2007, 05:51 AM
Great TRs, crizgolfer. I'll be in Dallas for business this summer. It already looks like I know which club I'll be patronizing.
If you like a classy place with gorgeous ladies. You will not be disappointed.
lestat1
12-15-2007, 09:54 PM
Bankroll: $400 + ~$100 in singles
Quick visit to the nice club tonight. My glasses fogged up to the point of blindness upon walking in, thanks to the cold walk there. I was planning on enjoying the stage for an hour or two, and then finding my favorite dancer for a few dances before heading home. By the time I tried to find a stage seat (there was a coat on the only spare one), and then found a wall seat, I managed to almost mistake the waitres for a dancer. Through concentrated effort, I can, from time to time, look at their faces when the ladies come by. So I didn't see her outfit. She said "hi." I said "hi." Some awkward seconds pass. I was about to say something along the lines of "sure I'd like a dance," when I realized while thinking in my head and trying to figure out why all she said was "hi" that she had asked me what I wanted to drink. Oh! Okay, it's the waitress. I ordered a Starbuck's double shot and noticed her blue jeans when she walked away. Whew; definitely waitress. A bit sub-par for the waitresses that normally work there (normally they're the gorgeous ones in dresses), but at least I got my drink and a ticket for my second drink (you have to buy the first two upfront).
I noticed that the guy next to the coat by the stage had picked up his coat and was going somewhere. Well shoot, now he leaves. It would seem weird to go back already. Then they annouce that Miss E (i.e. Miss Ridiculously Sensual, i.e. my current favorite, i.e. top five or top three lap dancers I've ever had) is coming up on stage. Appearance be damned, I go sit by the stage, smiling at her. She has a model's body, an exotic appearance I still can't place, gorgeous hair, and the most feminine and sensual style. Miss E spotted me as she made her way around in between songs collecting tips, and stopped to sit down on the tip rail. She leaned in, purred in my ear with her arms wrapped around me, and greeted me with a kiss on the cheek. Yeah...my last four or five visits, ever since I discovered her, I always get dances from her. It's nice that she remembers, and even nicer that she bother with the little extra appreciations. Anyway, I enjoy her show, happy to see her and knowing how my night will end. I'll watch the dancers for a while, then find Miss E later to finish out the night. Fate, in the form of the luscious Miss E, intervened. After her stage set she made the tip rounds. I lost track of her as she passed behind me, but a half minute later there she was, snuggling up against me from behind and asking me if I want some dances. Well...but..my plan and I was...aw hell screw it; sure!
She sends me off to buy a token while she finishes collecting tips for her stage show. I was going to get two songs for $50. The doorman upsells me on $60 for 12 minutes. I wonder if that's new. It used to be $50/2 songs, $60/3 songs. Maybe it was always 6 minutes/12 minutes, but if that's the case, I should've been doing $60 all along. I pull $80 out for her upfront tip. I settle in and get the fantastic. sensual dances I so love. I won't go into details...you can read, like, my last 5 TRs for them. At one point I'm damn near panting when she stands over me, crotch near face. I hold my breath so I don't end up being one of the "blower guys." On the same note, I turn my head away from her nipples a few times because I'm wearing chapstick and don't want to be a "nipple licker." This is the nicer club, remember. I wonder how many accidental perverts there are. Anyway, I have my fun, and then finish up about a minute before the end of my time. She said after time's up: "We're not done yet, are we?" Heh...I guess I was too quiet this time. I wistfully inform her that we're done, but as she dresses I reach in and find $40 more for her. I get my hug & a kiss, we exchange holiday niceties, and she offers up some pleasant SS.
All in all, a good trip. I spent $200 of my main bankroll and about $10 in singles.
Susan Wayward
12-16-2007, 03:04 PM
I hold my breath so I don't end up being one of the "blower guys." On the same note, I turn my head away from her nipples a few times because I'm wearing chapstick and don't want to be a "nipple licker."
Oh my god, lestat, stop reading pink pet peeve threads! I am certain your dancer knows the difference between exhaling and blowing. And between moisturized lips and a tongue.
lestat1
12-23-2007, 01:55 AM
Two TRs in a row from me? You guys are slacking...
Bankroll: $450 + ~$100 in singles
Another quick trip to the nice club tonight. I got there shortly after 2 AM, so it was still pretty packed (open 'til 4 AM). I found a seat at the stage, and began looking for my favorite, Miss E (a.k.a Miss Sensual). After a few songs and on the second dancer on stage, I spot her, just a few guys down giving a dance. I shift my gaze between her and the stage, and finally make eye contact. She finishes up and comes by me. Her lips attacked my cheek as she ran her fingers through my hair. My kind of greeting. We were on the same wavelength, her asking me if I just got there and wanted to hang out for a while. I said yes, and that I wanted some dances from her later. "Don't forget me," she says. Like I could.
Around the third or so dancer on stage, and after having no waitress come by for a drink, I head over to the bar and use my ticket from last time (hehe - you have to buy two drinks up front upon arrival, this is for the second drink) to get a water. I debated a Starbuck's Double Shot, but I did have a double espresso earlier that evening. Then I started looking for a place to sit, so I could get some mini-laps and get warmed up for my dances with Miss E.
A dancer comes right over and offers me a seat at the bar so she can dance for me. It was nice, except that the stool was on uneven footing and it almost tipped over. Good thing she caught me. We moved the stool onto more even flooring and continued. She gave a decent mini-lap, and towards the end her sales pitch got interesting. She said we'd have a hot time, and she wanted to feel my hands over her naked body (standard) and her nipples (whoah - never happens at this club!) I was very tempted, but Miss E offers exactly the kind of dances I'm looking for, so I declined her offer. I felt a little bad, as it was a damn good offer from a hottie who danced decently. I tipped her a handful of singles, probably $10 or so. I soon overheard her talking to another dancer, but all I made out was "I'll take all the dollars I can get at this point." I've been going to this club for 11 years, and at almost any other time I'd have rushed her into the private dance booth. Oh well. Crappy timing.
Miss Desperate Dancer did, however, get me rather warmed up. So when I spotted Miss E now at the bar right by me I asked her for those private dances. I started with a triple play ($60 to the house, 12 minutes, and an $80 upfront tip to her). We talked briefly as she undressed about the holidays, and she mentioned waiting for the last minute and going out shopping for her daughter but finding nothing today. There is not an ounce of fat on her body. That she may have carried a child is mind-blowing. Maybe it's a step child. Maybe she adopted. Maybe she can work out like no other human on the planet. I don't know; I just know day-um she is thin exotic gorgeousness.
She gave me the sensual luscious dances I've come to expect from her. Somehow I made it through 12 minutes without losing it. Well, not somehow. She's a bit of a tease, putting in just enough really brief breaks to keep you on edge without going over. I'm not complaining, I don't want to get one or two songs and be done. I like to get worked up. So as they came to a close, I did another triple play. She teased less this time. Smart woman. Tease too much and you're done for with me. She found the sweet spot right in the middle. Must be tough to determine just how dry to bleed each guy; it's an easy thing to misjudge.
She moved my hands to her ass. Not near the crack, but enough to have a handful of round perfection. This was new, but not surprising after my established track record of getting several dances from her each visit, tipping well, touching softly, and following the rules to the letter. Her butt was cold; much colder than the rest of her body. This is odd to me, since her butt is in close contact with me, a source of heat. I'm going to be pondering this for a while...
At this point I was breathing very hard, and at times had my head thrown back. Damn she knows how to use her hair well! And writhing. She may be the best writher I've encountered to date. It was less dance and more "sexual glaze being slowly dripped all over me, in the form of her naked body." Yeah, I'm a fan. I'd been trying to hold back and using deep breaths to hold off, but about halfway through the second triple play, I decided it was time to give in and stop fighting her efforts. She had not been doing her teasing moves much at all, save for taking her time with each position change. I finished a couple of minutes before the end of my second triple play. When the light went out (they have timer lights here, so no need to time things with the songs being played) she leaned back, offered more kisses on my cheek, and asked if I was "good to go." Yup, thanks! "No, thank you!" We exchanged Merry Christmas-es, hugged a bit, and I headed out. Nice trip, and I almost feel like I have some stamina for lasting throuth ~21+ minutes of erotic heaven with the ridiculously hot Miss E. :)
Oh, I yet again forgot to ask her her background. I was...ummm...a bit distracted in the private dance booth. I'm sure she gets asked all the time, but I suppose for the ~$200 she made off of me she could satisfy my curiosity on a fairly benign topic. I also keep meaning to compliment her on her lap dance style. I just don't know a way to say "You make lap dances an erotic art form" in a non PL/creepy way.
Katrine
12-23-2007, 06:08 PM
There is not an ounce of fat on her body. That she may have carried a child is mind-blowing. Maybe it's a step child. Maybe she adopted. Maybe she can work out like no other human on the planet. I don't know; I just know day-um she is thin exotic gorgeousness.
You really don't get out much do you? I know dozens of women who have kids that bounced right back and have firm, slender bodies. Having a child while very young can help, but isn't required.
Then again, I had a guy grab the tiny bit if skins right under my belly and state to me that its obvious I've had children. Even though we were surrounded by girls with actual guts.
Stupid, ignorant people. Why is it so hard to think outside of the sexist box?
SportsWriter2
12-24-2007, 09:05 AM
You really don't get out much do you? I know dozens of women who have kids that bounced right back and have firm, slender bodies.
Come on, Kat, give stat some poetic license to say how impressed he is with Miss E. I know scores of women who didn't fare very well.
I didn't know stat got a happy ending from LD's. I thought it took at minimum a nude bed dance.
Man, I am so out of the loop :-\
FBR
Casual Observer
12-24-2007, 06:56 PM
I know dozens of women who have kids that bounced right back and have firm, slender bodies.
I think we have all seen more of the opposite phenomena, Kat; thus, our perceived bias.
SportsWriter2
12-24-2007, 07:45 PM
I think we have all seen more of the opposite phenomena, Kat; thus, our perceived bias.
Yeah, like 58-3 in my experience. Beyond even a New England Patriots blowout. :-\
lestat1
12-25-2007, 12:30 AM
I think we have all seen more of the opposite phenomena, Kat; thus, our perceived bias.
Yeah, exactly. In Kat's defense though, think of her social circle versus our own. Obviously the pregnant dancers she knows are going to bounce back from a pregnancy to a greater extent, typically, than say, the pregnant IT women I've known.
But, the first rule of SW is to read into any post the most evil and viscious intent possible, so my amazement at the stunning sexiness of Miss E in general, and post-pregnancy in particular, must be turned into something negative, by SW decree. ;)
lestat1
12-25-2007, 12:38 AM
I didn't know stat got a happy ending from LD's. I thought it took at minimum a nude bed dance.
Man, I am so out of the loop :-\
FBR
What in the hell did you think I was paying $50-$60 per 3 minutes for? LOL There's a reason the dance prices are so high in my area. Fully-nude constant grinding from damned hot ladies; lap dance towel included.
Or in the case of my last visit, $280 for 24 minutes. The real question is how did I last through 22 minutes of erotic heaven? I've come up with but one answer: I am a sexual stallion. :D
yoda57us
12-25-2007, 04:30 AM
There is not an ounce of fat on her body. That she may have carried a child is mind-blowing. Maybe it's a step child. Maybe she adopted. Maybe she can work out like no other human on the planet. I don't know; I just know day-um she is thin exotic gorgeousness.
Honestly Stat, I see dancers every day in their 30's with two or three kids who look like this. Some work at it and some don't....
You really don't get out much do you? I know dozens of women who have kids that bounced right back and have firm, slender bodies. Having a child while very young can help, but isn't required.
Indeed, see my thirty- something reference above...
Then again, I had a guy grab the tiny bit if skins right under my belly and state to me that its obvious I've had children. Even though we were surrounded by girls with actual guts.
He was just looking for an excuse to grab you...I can't say I blame him...
I think we have all seen more of the opposite phenomena, Kat; thus, our perceived bias.
I don't know about that. I see a lot of chubby dancers but I have no way of knowing if it's child-bearing or the drive-through that is causing it. My personal experience with dancers who have kids is that most of them look amazing.
Yeah, like 58-3 in my experience. Beyond even a New England Patriots blowout. :-\
So, you keep score Sporty? Who would have guessed?
Yeah, exactly. In Kat's defense though, think of her social circle versus our own. Obviously the pregnant dancers she knows are going to bounce back from a pregnancy to a greater extent, typically, than say, the pregnant IT women I've known.
Lol, just keep steppin' in it Stat...now you are gonna have all the IT girls lurking here pissed at you...;)
What in the hell did you think I was paying $50-$60 per 3 minutes for? LOL There's a reason the dance prices are so high in my area. Fully-nude constant grinding from damned hot ladies; lap dance towel included.
Well, at least they give you a towel...
Or in the case of my last visit, $280 for 24 minutes. The real question is how did I last through 22 minutes of erotic heaven? I've come up with but one answer: I am a sexual stallion. :D
I know a Brazilian dancer who used to apologize if she didn't make you splooge in three songs or less...
Katrine
12-26-2007, 11:16 AM
Boys, trust me, you really, really just don't know. Remember 'stat, I also worked in IT, for almost as many years as I stripped, and concurrently for some of the time.
There are a hundred factors of how and why a woman's body bounces back after pregnancy that you are blissfully unaware about. That's fine, nothing wrong with that. I'm not trying to shit on your parade. Hell, I do not have any kids of my own. But I've got some tummy flab now. Maybe I should use "childbirth" as an excuse?
^^ Kat I want to lick your tummy flab :P
Had to beat Yoda to that one ;)
FBR
aggieed
12-30-2007, 11:20 PM
Depending on how you look at it my second trip to a San Antonio SC didn't really live up to my previous trip earlier in the month.
After the Alamo Bowl, I spent the night in SA and decided to stick around on Sunday and go to an SC before heading back home. So once again around 12:30 PM, I found myself walking into a strip club in San Antonio. I probably would have done better just going home.
By 3 PM, there were still only four dancers working...only one of which I thought I might buy dances from, but she was busy talking with the bartender about her love life and really didn't seem to be all that much interested in dances. Of course the Cowboys were playing the late game, so I figured I would at least stick around for a little while to watch that. Then I ended up "settling" on taking one of the other four dancers to the back for some private time. Nice gal, pretty nice body with small perky breasts and really long legs. Lots of two-way contact on the dances with a little bit of hands up the shorts action (gotta love the 70 degree weather in December), but nothing really spectacular. Turns out she really isn't into too much ITC action...
...because during one of our "breaks" she basically propositioned me for some OTC action. She wouldn't get specific on what was on the menu of course, but she seemed to insinuate that anything was negotiable. I don't really plan on going back to SA again until the Final Four, and even then I'm not going to be doing any "hobbying" during that time...hell, that'll be the worst time for guys like me to hit one of the SA strip clubs...but I'll still probably hit up some of the SA ASPD guys for information to see if she's "legit". What the hell, right? That's what they're there for me, and if she propositioned little old me that she just met, chances are she's given her phone number to lots of other guys over the years.
Jay Zeno
01-13-2008, 08:35 AM
No TR's for 14 days? This cannot be.
Went to the club at a time when I usually don't go, wondering if I might see some different talent.
And I did. Business was slow. I started making the rounds, sitting down, sipping the beverage, exchanging an occasional good-natured word, and duly making my rounds to the stage to pay my club dues and check out the dancers du jour.
First lady, Tenover, was quite sweet and generous with her stage moves. She wasn't quite there for me, but fun and pleasing. Give her a good grade.
Next lady, Ilyana, had a nice artistic body that I complimented her on, and she, too, was generous with it. Her reponses to me had an accent with Cyrillic characters, and didn't quite connect to the things I was saying. She got tired pretty quickly of trying to connect, and with a song and a half still left in her set, said, "Would you like a dance?" I told her the truth, that I hadn't been there too long, was still warming up, but I might, and she believed none of it, nodded, and moved off.
The third girl, Overdone, kept casting glances my way. Well, it was slow. I dutifully paid my way for a standard stageside round and went back to the bar. I kept looking over at Ilyana, but she was chatting with another dancer, when I heard, "Jay!"
It was Willow, reappearing now from the episode of me stopping her undoing my pants. We say hi, hug, and I compliment her on her looks. She sits with me and engages in her usual level of chat, which is a strange combination of brusque responses to my comments, seemingly sincere laughter at my humor, and coming up with very little on her own. She left her seat one time for a side trip and left her purse with me to watch it, her equivalent of lifting her leg to mark the territory, I guess.
When she comes back, I mention that my time is not unlimited that day. She says that's fine, and there is another guy whom she needs to talk to. I told her she needs to do her thing and take care of her people, so she goes over to that table. Very soon after, I see sudden movement down at the other end of the bar, and then Tenover is walking by, asking if she can sit next to me. Hey, fair's fair, and I say sure.
Well, the chatter just didn't stop, and it seemed to have no expectations attached. I was keeping up my end of the conversation, and she was chirping away merrily. Normal, pleasant, engaging conversation with an undercurrent of flirt to it. Perfect. Then Willow and her new flame stand up and head off to Lap Central. In my old-age vision, I thought I saw, on her disappearing ass, a sign that read, "You're in second place, Jay." Which was fine. I mean, she'd gone over to service, errr, see the guy with my blessings, after all.
Tenover keeps our chatting going for another good 45 to 60 seconds and then asks shyly if I'm going to be getting dances today. She wasn't completely my type, but she was working hard to keep me engaged and doing all the right things, and such relatively rare effort needs to be rewarded. So, yes.
Good dances. She was enthusiastic, fun, proactive, and responsive. If it had been a real fling in the real world, there would be clothing and sheets and bed covers tossed about the room, wine bottles getting kicked and rolling around, dents in the drywall, possibly some broken furniture. Lots of energy, lots of fun.
Her name came up on the PA. If there was one thing I could change about this club, it would be the DJ having the common courtesy to skip the stage rotation for a girl who's in Lap Central. However, this time it worked out, because my time was running short anyway. We headed back to the floor, and she hit the stage. I went back to the bar, and Willow came up, complaining that she'd been looking for me for a while. The Evil Jay element of me couldn't help but be a little secretly amused. She tried more of a chat than she'd been able to force out before, but I told her that my time leash was only about five minutes long now, which was the truth.
She gave me a hug, clearly chagrined, and wandered off. I went to Tenover's stage, told her good-bye, got very nice hugging and well-wishing, left a good stage tip, and drifted out.
Pretty good visit, really, with the day's reward coming from an unlikely and unpredictable source. Gotta love it.
Enjoyed the TR, Jay! Even though Willow was a disappointment (I know you lost no sleep over it but a little zipper pull for old times sake would have been nice). It was good to see her name in print once again, though.
FBR
Howie
01-13-2008, 08:35 PM
My Las Vegas stripclub buddy came to town on Saturday with the intent of making me accompany him to a local SC. I picked him up at his hotel around nine and made the 45 minute drive to my usual club. When we entered the club, I asked the doorman if my dancer from previous visits (I’ll refer to her as creampie) was working that night. She was and my friend was looking forward to meeting the dancer that had fucked me in the VIP lounge.
We took a seat near the stage and I kept an eye out to see if I could see her before she saw me. There were only 4 or 5 dancers working that night but I didn’t see her anywhere. As I was watching the stage my buddy taps me on the shoulder and says “Look at that shit”. Creampie was walking towards the DR for what I suspect was to get ready for her stage set. Told him she was the dancer that took advantage of me and he was to say the least, a little surprised. Told me he was going to take her to VIP and fuck her too.
When she came out on stage she spots me and acted very surprised and glad to see me. After her set she sat down next to me and started rubbing my leg and progressed to rubbing my crotch under the table. My buddy said he wanted a dance and I gave Creampie a Grant and told her to go entertain my friend. They leave for VIP and I take a seat a litter further from the stage. They were gone for more than the two songs I’d paid for so I figured he was having a good time with her. They came back out and she had to go back on stage. Hate when there’s so few girls working that the rotation is short.
Asked my buddy if he got fucked by Creampie and he said no, but for $100 extra she let him finger her. He said she kept asking him questions about me. He told her that I was pissed at her for telling me one time to meet her after closing and leaving me waiting in the club parking lot while she went on home. She told him that was payback for all the times she waited on me after closing while I went home. He asked if she was mad at me, and she told him she doesn’t get mad, just even.
After her stage she grabbed me and took me back to VIP. She told me how glad she was to see me and how terrible work had been. She had to take a regular job just to make ends meet. She had only been working two nights a week and many nights she only took home $100. She said she really missed me and would I please call her next week so we could get together. She kept our dances extremely clean and basically said that unless she was my girlfriend, there would be no more GFE for me.
Meanwhile my buddy was out taking shots with the waitress who spent most of her time sitting at his table and not waiting on any of the other customers in the main area. When Creampie had to go back on stage I sat back with him and asked if he was going to get any more dances. There was quite a few customers in the club and more female customers there than I’d ever seen, but the few dancers working were sitting at the bar and not hustling anyone. He said none of them seemed interested in working and he was having more fun with the waitress than he thought he could have with a dancer. When Creampie was done with stage we went back to VIP for some more clean dances. Told her to find a dancer for my buddy because none were showing any interest in selling dances. We finished our dances and she found a dancer for him, but he didn’t want to leave the waitress and told her he wasn’t interested. At this point it was getting close to closing time. Creampie did a few dances for some other customers that had been waiting for me to quit fuckoing her.
Closing time came and Creampie came up to me and gave me a hug and pleaded for me to call her tomorrow to set up a date for the next week. Told her I would. It’s 9:30 Sunday night and I haven’t called her and I’m not going to.
Casual Observer
01-14-2008, 11:40 AM
Asked my buddy if he got fucked by Creampie and he said no, but for $100 extra she let him finger her.
Why would you pay to finger a girl?
Jenny
01-14-2008, 12:42 PM
Why would you pay to finger a girl?The same reason you'd pay to do anything with a girl. Because some guys like the way it feels.
Howie
01-14-2008, 01:53 PM
Why would you pay to finger a girl?
He was probably lying to me to see if I would get pissed. Didn't bother me at all.
Svelt
01-14-2008, 03:15 PM
Its a new year, I am faveless and no longer PL to anyone. This has got to change, a guy has to have goals.
So off to the sc to seek out new talent. I am in my spot, looking the girls over trying to decide what to pursue.
S sits and starts with chit chat. I haven't talked to S in 9 months or so, and it was always wanna dance. Huh, she is actually talking like a person... S is ultra hot, but big ink, turn off for me. However she is showing intelligence and wit... big turn on for me, lets go dance. Good, but nothing special essentially generic. Hmm, back to my spot.
Day girl working late starts in with a bunch of questions, never met her before but she apparently knows all about me... hmmm, kind of uncomfortable, but you know eager... okay sure lets go. Again vanilla dance, she's nervous and excited I kind of like it, but nah.
New girl (looks like an old ex, a fun sexy out of control ex, danger Will Robinson), chats me up, says she worked at the nasty club. Girls don't usually claim it unless to imply high mileage, or are too new to know any better. She is definitely implying high mileage, hmmm okay lets go. Terrible dance, she fumbles trying to be nasty but it's just terrible. I bail.
New girl reminds me of the ATF but better looking and younger. She is from the ATF's club. Hmm sure lets go... Aggressive, nasty, ohhh inventively nasty... demandingly nasty. We stop she says she will do better next time. Better? Surprised I like nasty again, haven't liked nasty since the ATF.
R comes over for chit chat. We had a dance once over a year ago, it didn't work. Past six months or so she's been trying to get me try her again. She's very sweet, and very attractive. I suggest we give it a go again, she doesn't understand, I say "I want a dance". She starts, "Really?" So we head back, I set some ground rules expectations. She likes me taking charge... Dance is solid, heading nasty, and then further. We go several dances, we talk, I have known her awhile its easy, comfortable, but then I realize now the dance is over nothing. She notices too, we talk about it. We agree, buddies.
A is back with her new BA, we hug and sit talking. She looks great, the BA is just right, she is more balanced, without being big. She has more confidence, it radiates out of her, and my approval makes her beam. I suggest dances and she says "You are going to let me dance for you?" we head back to a booth. I lay ground rules, and she says "Good we are on the same page" She comes in for the tight press and gives me a set of really good GFE dances. Nothing nasty, just straight up I want you, trust you, like you dances. She hasn't been dancing long, a few months. She hit me just right. I think there are more dances in our future.
S2 comes on stage, last time I saw her on stage she kicked the tip row chair out of the way, came out to my table in the second row and gave me a quick private show right on the floor during her stage. She took my breathe away. So I am curious as to what will happen this time, kind of excited, definitely hungry with anticipation. She keeps giving me the smoldering eye as she works her way around the stage. Once again she comes to me in the second row. This time she stops and does floor work right in front of me. I mouth that I want her to come back, that I want dances. She nods, neither of us have said anything. I really like this kind of intimacy. I haven't ever had a dance from her. She finishes her stage, still flashing me the eyes. She takes me back for dances. Sitting down she is very attentive, caressing, gentle but insistive. We talk a little and then she gives me a couple of incredibly sensual slow suggestive dances, not nasty at all. She's older and truly understands the things I want. Constant intimacy, total seduction, insistent, but gentle. She knows what she wants, but also responds to what I want without me having to explain or even talk. She understands from how I move, or something, doesn't matter its perfect. We stop I head back to the floor kind of in a daze.
Other girls drop by to chat but I am kind of oblivious, I notice S2 is hanging out behind me on a wall listening in on my conversations with these girls. I wave her over, and we head back for more dances. I lay down ground rules, what didn't work in the first dances and what I really liked. She is all over me, I realize after a bit, I am really responding, open and vulnerable. We are talking, touching, and really exploring each other, mentally, physically and emotionally. Its more like a really good first date, not a dance. I completely lose track of time, when done she quotes me an absurdly low price. I tip more. I head back to the floor.
I am getting looks from lots of the girls. I am never back that long. A couple come asking questions kind of curious, I am evasive. S2 is now back on stage, I am in my corner kind of thinking things thru. She is giving me a private show from the stage, we are both goofy and mesmerized. Now more girls are looking at us and curious. R grabs me from behind, I ignore her and maintain eye contact with S2. Stage wraps up and R is whispering in my ear, "Look at you, these girls love you, private stage shows just for you..." I say, "Naw they are just playing with me." R says, "They are playing hard..." I say "Yeah well I think she just won."
And another PL is born...
Jay Zeno
01-15-2008, 11:28 PM
Been a long trip, guys. I want to make the report, but I am too tired for creativity to dress it up. So here's the cold factual rundown.
A Chili Night In Phoenix
I met up with our own legendary stripclubber, Chili Palmer, in his hometown. He graciously offered to drive and showed up looking like the trim, urbane, witty guy that he actually is. Chili is, in traditional terms, a man's man; courteous, deferential, generous, with a display of respect and confidentiality that inspires information to flow.
Don't worry. I'm not in love or anything. Oh, and with one exception, we talked about no (meaning, NO) SW/SCJ'er. That one exception was our respective meetings with Bridgette. Although in different circumstances, we were both taken with her boundless energies and considerable personal charm.
On to the night. We had dinner, we talked, we laughed, yada-yada. Then to Chili's favorite club, and getting a very good briefing on our way there of the layout, the system, the price expectation, and the mood.
The club energy was a little low at first. But two things struck me about the club, negative and positive. 1. Negative. There is apparently a giant force field around the Phoenix stages. I don't know why they bother to put chairs stageside. 2. Positive. The $10 dances on the floor. I grew to appreciate this business model. For the dancer, it beats getting turned down and not making any money, because guys are more willing to part with ten bucks, and it gives them a good opportunity to upsell to VIP. For the customer, he doesn't get bled dry as quickly, and he's got a low-cost means of evaluating the lady before deciding to part ways with the Jacksons.
As it turns out, Chili and I were in synch with our conversational habits, kindred spirits in our club drinking (neither of us had alcohol), and completely divergent on the types that appealed to us, which as Chili observed, was a serendipitous thing, because we had no competition for any girl.
Flexy was impressive to watch on stage, and when she came by, she stopped and chatted. Twenty dollars later, she was on her way. Chili was busy entertaining the buxom bombshells, and we continued to chat during the dry spells. Lots of, walk up, stop, wanna dance, walk away. If someone actually stopped and perched, effort must be rewarded, and they'd walk away with the brace of sawbucks. Chili, meanwhile, was sizing them up on the approach and had no problem saying yes to a likely lass. I had no inclination to try to keep up with his spending, which is a good thing, because the man is carefree and generous.
Then Limpidia came up and was quite charming and writhing. So after meaningless conversation for a couple songs, she got quite, well, expressive, doing what I considered to be boundary-pushing naughty for a floor dance. The upsell was easy, so we headed off to Lap Central PHX, where she offered nice opportunities but with an understated presentation that was either unenergetic or softly sensuous. After a nice set, we returned, chatted and then she wandered off.
After more wannadances, SaraJess came up. Not the one I'd pick from the herd, but she was charmingly insecure, and after getting a bunch of her time for free, we did lap waltzes. I wasn't ready for VIP, but she gave a good line about why we should go there and she'd come back later, and she left. Halftime. Chili and I made some observations, got toweled off from the bucket, our laces tightened, mouthguards placed back in, and went back to the fray.
Limpidia came back, asked for a backrub, which she got, and wandered back off. Flexy came back, and I think she got another couple floor dances from me. Then Limpidia again, saying we should go back to VIP. I was getting antsy. I said yes. She was more free with the body but even less energetic, and there was something bothering me.... couldn't quite place it.... then her face is close to mine, and she's chewing gum the whole time. The motion of it became a focal point for my body. The sound of it filled my consciousness. I called an end to the dances soon after, although they had quite enjoyable.... well, with the chewing gum caveat... and lack of energy ... so we stood up, and she baldly asked for a tip. I gave it, because the way she danced, I could've identified her breasts again blindfolded for the rest of my life, so what the hell, but I must've looked a bit baleful, because we walked out of VIP without much of a word, and as we exited, she turned sharp left without a good-bye, and I never saw her again.
Back to the chair, and SaraJess comes back, looking a little pleading, until I said yes to VIP, and then she positively glowed. She asked where I wanted to sit, I gave her the choice, and she picked the farther end, next to another couple there. As we sat down, I noticed it was Chili. Great. Then she turned her attention on, and Chili was the last thing on my mind or in my vision, for that matter.
Very good dances. Quite good, yes indeed. And we had little flirty convo going which fit in well. One jarring note. Ladies, don't comment on the man's ginormous arousal if it is not, in comparative human terms, exactly ginormous. We know the truth. It's like you wear a 32B and we tell you, "Wow, your tits are huge!" Maybe we're trying, but you know better, and it falls flat.
Anyway, our cooldown phase was chattery, too. Really good experience. We walked back to the table, with me wishing I had a glass of ice water to pour down the front of my pants.
Here's what a good wingman - no, partner - Chili is. While driving to the club that night, we'd talked about my means that evening. It was now at this point, Chili asked if I was ready for round 2 at the next club. He'd been keeping rough tabs, and was afraid I was going through money fast and I might be ready to split. And I was, and I was. We left.
But I had a phone number. How much better does it get? Well, it was to do some photography, so it wasn't like it was Holy Grail. But still, pretty good. And as it turned out, the number was temporarily disconnected. But the thought must count for something.
Round 2 next at Club Never.