There's a private party every Monday at this place about a half-hour away. Four girls, some of them that work for My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version) work it. (One of those girls invited me to it.) It's better because they let me touch their titties here. But I've slowly started to get bored with it. There's still no privacy, and at some point I want to take my dick out and show it to her. There are just too many guys around that could see, and so I'm frustrated. It's not worth it to go out of my way to this party, at least beyond an irregular frequency, and that would save me their $5 cover.
So I didn't plan on going last night for those reasons, plus that Game 6 of the Stanley Cup Finals was on and I wanted to see the whole thing from the comfort of my own bed. When I went to My Favorite Stripclub and saw Jasmine, the waitress with the humongo-boobs, and she told me she was invited to work the party, I told her I couldn't. And when Amber, the girl who initially turned me on to this party, texted that she would also be at the party, I told her maybe next time.
She prefers texting to talking. All the young'uns prefer texting to talking nowadays. What's wrong with talking? Besides, I don't have a texting plan. I have all the minutes you'd want to spend (and I don't spend half of them every month), but texts cost me, one at a time. Anyway, she texted back twice (twenty cents, damn!). First, she said, "k." And then, as if she didn't want to leave the impression that she was mad or disappointed, she sent a second one, just a smile emoticon: ":-)"
Well, that was it. She tugged at my heartstrings, and I was incapable of resisting. That smiley face made me feel bad, so, so bad. I was "working" at the U. when I saw that text, and for the rest of my session in there I couldn't help but think about how I disappointed her. So, even though I was going to miss potentially one hell of a game and the last pro hockey game of the year, I decided that I was going to go to that party.
First I left a message for Amber. Then I called Jasmine to let her know I changed my mind. She was typically brusque, borderline rude: "You don't have to call me to let me know that you're coming!" is what she said hurriedly, like she was in the middle of something, before she hung up. Well.
I was still not totally happy with the setup. So after thinking through any last-minute doubts and reaffirming that, yes, I will go out instead of staying in and watching the game, I'll try something different. I used to go just as the party officially started because no one would have rolled in by then and that meant I could get as much privacy (whether it be on the couches or surprising them in the bathroom or their changing room) as I would get. Ideally, no guy would be there. But for the past several times there's been this, uh, bouncer/overseer/protector that's always there. He seems like a nice guy, but he's obviously there to keep the peace and make sure no one takes his dick out. Boo.
Instead, I decided I'd go at the end of the party, close to 11 o'clock. There probably will be guys still milling about, but the chances of them not being there are just as good as they are earlier in the evening, and I've never gone there that late, so why not try it? Plus, the darkness might help me in shrouding my pee-pee in secrecy so that only the dancer and I know it's out. Finally, my parents came home late Monday, I wouldn't've been able to get to the party's beginning even if I wanted to. So I ate dinner, went to exercise at the gym, and then went to the condo (it was on the way).
I'll say this: At least the game was a blowout. If it were close, I'd be kind of peeved that my attention wasn't 100% on hockey. But it wasn't, so I wasn't. Plus, something at the party made it all worth it.
Just as I got to the condo to find a space to park, I see Jasmine come out with a huge bag with her. That's her dancer bag, and she was leaving. This is about 10:30, about a half-hour before the party officially ended. I've seen a dancer leave; it's not as if one gets punished if they leave early. But I did call her earlier that evening. It would've been nice for her to let me know she was leaving early, if she knew beforehand that she would.
I waved; I think she waved back, but maybe she couldn't see through my car window at night as I was driving into the cul-de-sac. She's parked just outside the dead end, so I figure that if she's leaving, if I can't get a lapdance from her, I might as well just take her spot. So I wait there for, like, ten seconds. She started her car, but she doesn't move. She probably thinks I'm stalking her. She can be a bitch at times -- well, more than half the time. Don't matter; I can walk. I drive past her and park where I normally do when I go this party, about three blocks down.
My dream that it was just me and the girls were quickly dashed when I saw about five guys there. Three of them were black; why do I always see black guys at a stripclub when it's late? Anyway, my M.O. usually is to immediately head to the head so I can unbutton my fly; if I enter the condo with the barn door open, I'm always afraid someone will take the initiative of frisking me.
I made a beeline to right next to the bathroom, so I don't know if Amber's out in the kitchen, where everybody hangs out. I wait and wait. I don't want to be a dick; I can see from the bottom of the doorway that the light's on. But I continued to wait, for about five minutes. When the stripper I saw dancing when I came in got done, that's when I knew I had to check again.
I knocked on the door. And there I saw the door was ajar. No one was in there. It was unoccupied the whole time. Now why in the fuck would you keep a bathroom light turned on? It makes people think people are in there. My Fucking Father (Happy Father's Day, but the way) does that all the time in his hotel room when he's on vacation. Either he does that because he doesn't want to get lost when he inevitably wakes up to pee, or he does it because he's afraid of the fucking dark. Neither really applies here. Besides, the light at the hall outside the door is on. I don't get that. Humiliating. The guys there must have been laughing at me.
So I pee, keep my fly unbuttoned, then come out to the kitchen. Yep, Amber was there. And she was so happy to see me! She said she even sent me a photo of her to my smartphone ... except that I don't have a smartphone. Oh well.
With less than half an hour left to go in the party, she was ready to get me my LD -- but first she had to freshen up in the bathroom. I was mentally rubbing my hands together with delight; ha-ha, now's my chance!! She told me to pay the $5 cover before she went. And now I have an excuse to go after her.
All this time while I was at the party there was a guy sitting on a chair and just hanging out. From the bathroom his back would be turned towards it. Also, there were still a couple other strippers and a few guys (including the bouncer fellow) still milling around the kitchen. Any one of them could have seen what I was about to do next: I disobeyed her orders to just stand there, went to the bathroom, and asked if she had change for a ten-dollar bill ... while reaching into my fly and taking out my cock!
I don't exactly recall what she said. All I remember -- all I really give a shit -- is that she didn't scream or get mad at me. All she said, I guess, was, "You're so bad!" Or maybe I'm dreaming that she said that, and instead she said, "You're going to get us in trouble," or "I thought I told you stay outside!"
She did run out to the living room to get the purse she left on the couch. I think she told me to wait out there again. But me being so horny, I decided to disobey her again and go back to her in the bathroom after five or ten seconds and take out my cock again.
I think -- I've been saying that a lot in this blog post, huh? -- she said that I was going to get her in trouble, or that someone might see us. So I asked her, pleaded with her, "Just touch it and then I'll put it away." And by God, she did! She wrapped her left hand around the top of my dick, from the tip halfway down, and gave it a quick squeeze!! And I was over the moon!!!
I did put myself back in after her pseudo-handjob. I really did need change from her. And luckily she did what she did to me and I did what I promised to do after she did what I wanted her to do to me, 'cause there was a guy that came up behind me wanting to use the bathroom. Man, if he was there, like, 30 seconds earlier. ...
I feel kind of bad for not listening to what she told me to do and for constantly pleading, cajoling and egging her into masturbating me. But honestly, I don't feel kind of bad too, you know? What can I say, I'm a perv.
More importantly, she wasn't pissed at me, like Jasmine would have been. I got a dance from Amber, and then she talked to me without any tone. Even better, she invited me to this other dancer party tomorrow. It's at an apartment of an ex-dancer turned massage thearpist who once gave me her card intimating her massages might not be up-and-up, if you know what I mean; have I blogged about her before? Best of all, she said that there won't be any bouncers or muscle "protecting" the dancers. Good -- that means more chances of these hot strippers touching my pee-pee!
Details (good, bad and otherwise) after. Wish me luck!
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