Oh yeah, I haven't told you about my sojourn to the stripclub downtown yet. Yeah, it was the first time I ever wore a condom. But no, I didn't get my cherry popped.
So there were four girls that eventually showed up to work. My cute, clean ATF, Stella, was there, all cool and hot as ever. There was another girl, a "mature" woman named Summer whom, after seeing her face, remembered that I took my dick out on her a long time ago. (Unfortunately she was not happy with seeing Mr. Happy.) And there was a fourth girl, Stella. Tipped her while she was onstage just before I had to leave; she did not give any indication she was willing to play.
When I go there, Stella was the only stripper working. After I got my one dance from her, the next girl came out from the back: *i*****, a nerdy short chick with ostentatious glasses. She was, you know, cute, but her calling card was her no-nonsense approach to telling me she does extras. When she went up to me to grab my tip and dance in front of me, she told me that if I took her to the back I would have "a draining experience." I saw *i*****'s name on their Twitter, but I had no idea that she played.
So I immediately grabbed her hand and took her to the beds, right? Nope. I'll be honest: Her forthrightness with the extras she was willing to provide kind of freaked me out and turned me off. Her being so blunt didn't make me think she was into pleasing me; she sounded like she just wanted my wallet, not my cock. Moreover, her tone was kind of, for lack of a better word, annoying. Going for years to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition) has made me intolerant of hustle, which she was doing -- the only one doing it, by the wa.
Still, I went here with a mission: To get my rocks off. She was kind of cute and she gave me a guarantee of $130, so I gave myself a couple rotations to see if the other two women would offer something similar and rub me the right way. Unfortunately because they were so hot, they were pretty tied up with customers (who may or may not have been regulars; as I commented to Stella, I had never seen this place so busy during lunchtime in all my years coming here on day shift).
Eventually I saw that *i***** was the only one of the four strippers who had not given an LD, and I kind of felt sorry for her. So I relented; the next time she was on stage (and after she reminded me that she guaranteed I would have "draining" experience), I told her I would take her up on her offer.
She was totally ready -- too ready. *i***** was all about the dirty talk, so quickly spilling out of her mouth I don't think it sounded genuine. She sounded like she was turning a trick. But man, I was so horny I didn't care. And when I leapt into my practice of taking out my dick once I emptied my pants on the counter in the bed room, she tickled the bottom of my dick. I think I was so ready for her to really get me off that I thought she just wanked my cock right then and there.
So I totally jumped in thinking she was down. I took off my pants, all the way (a first in this place) and hopped onto the bed, totally bottomless. To which *i***** replied, "Oh, fuck no!" and ordered me to put my pants back on. Well, I guess she's not as randy as she said she'd be.
But then she dug into her purse and brought out a condom. Oh, hey now. Up to this point *i***** was giving me mixed messages and blowing hot-and-cold (metaphorically), but honestly, when she took out that rubber, I thought we were going to fuck. That would be my first time, and even though she would not have been my first choice even if I narrowed the field to just strippers, I was good to go. Besides, I wasn't going to back out now. In for a penny, in for a pound, right?
Well, once I put my pants back on, while still sticking out my penis, she got on top of me. I wanted to rub her down, bite her tit, shit like that, but she immediately put it on me, sans lube. I didn't know a condom would, um, "work" if a dick wasn't erect, but, well, it worked, I guess.
But *i***** did not fuck me. Instead, she just gave me a handjob, just through the condom. Oh, I get it: She didn't want any of my cum on her, or spraying all over the bed, so she made me wear it so I could contain my ejaculate. That's ... both pretty smart and a massive overkill. Splooging my juice of joy all over the place was one of the best parts of visiting the beds here. When I've done it back there in the past there were no repercussions, either from security or the girl I did it with/to, at least nothing serious. I was allowed to do that, and I wanted to do that. So cumming all over meant, to me, total freedom.
Now, that didn't mean I got all angry. Looking back, I surprise myself at how willing I was to go along with everything she said and did -- and everything she didn't say or do -- to make me leave happy. She didn't do much; she got on top of me and stroked me lightly, then ordered me around like a dominatrix: "You like this, don't you?!" "You gonna cum? Grab my ass!" and after I got done, which was near the end of the first of four songs, she said, "I am the Queen of Making Guys Cum!" or something like that. Man, I don't like dominatrices. OK, maybe I should modify that: I don't think straight-up sadomasochism and discipline is sexy. But if she gets on top of me and just has her way with me ... I don't not like that.
Regardless, *i***** did not do that. She immediately leapt off of me once I was done. I at least tried to make some conversation with her, and she was kind of down. For example I asked that we trade glasses. But, that was it. I kind of felt neglected the minutes afterward, mostly because I paid for four songs and she was ready to leave after two. And after *i***** barely spoke to me once I got zipped up and went back to the main room, that's when buyer's remorse set in.
Looking back at it now, I am back up the rollercoaster that was my time with *i*****. She hit some wrong buttons, but along the way she hit the right buttons. And I did cum, even if I could've just laid there by myself and anticipated what I thought she was going to do to me and cum. But I try and find something positive out of every experience that happens to me. And in this case, even though I still haven't put myself inside a woman, I can at least I strapped a condom on. Plus, I have to admit, cleaning up was a snap. All of my semen was collected in the condom, so I just went into the toilet stall, unsheathed my penis, and throw it into the shitter. And I didn't have to waste so many wetnaps to clean up the cum that I got all over myself and my porno pants. Still opened up as many wetnaps as I did in the past, about four; I just found out that I've kept them so long they've dried out, so it took me about four wetnaps before I opened one that was still wet enough for me to wipe up what nut I did get all over me.
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