Wednesday, March 4, 2015

The Trick, ****e*

So the first free work day after getting let go from my flu biller job I was hunting for stink.  I didn't have a plan, but I knew I had a finite period of time to get my fuck on.  Plus I had the money, so if there was any time to throw caution to the one (when it came to either money or health), this was it, because who knows when I would be called upon to be a productive member of society again.

Don't exactly know why I took another shot with ****e*, the woman who gave me a handjob in a parking lot, other than the fact that she usually dances at My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Division) during the days, when I just happen to be free.  So while I was out getting breakfast and working out, I put out a text feeler to her to see if she needed "a ride home."  In the meantime I was going to go about my day, exercising and surfing the Internet, just like a good little unemployed boy.

As I was starting to warm up for working out I got a reply from my text: "Who's this?"  I replied, "The Chinese guy from the strip club."  She's asked me in the past who I was, but this time at least she didn't blow me off.  That handie was so good I was going to make a few good honest runs at her until she either gives in to me and tells me to fuck off.  But she didn't tell me to fuck off.  She knew who I was this time, and thank Buddha, she both was working the first shift of the day (ending at 3) and could use a ride back to her place.  And she remembered what we did together, so there were no crossed wires when I gave a price for the services I wanted her to render.

Had to speed up my workout routine and fill up my gas tank for the ride out of the metro, but if I was going to get my pee-pee touched -- and hopefully more -- it was worth it.  So I went down to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version) to hang out until she was done and ready to go home.

At this point in my life, having gone to this titty bar for upwards of a decade, I think I'm a familiar face.  Yet going there not to partake in fun but to take a stripper home -- the first time I have ever done that -- made me feel all weird like the first time I ever stepped into the joint.  I don't think it was absolutely cool for me to take ****e* home.  It didn't really get any better when she didn't get out of the dressing room for a long time.  I'm not working, but I still have dinner with my family, and we had a long commute, so I was scared that I was going to hit bad traffic.

She left the changing room but said she wanted to say goodbye to people.  I didn't know what to do, so I waited for her outside.  And it felt like I waited an eternity, and the wind was blowing, so I went back in while checking my watch.  Finally she pried herself away from her real friends and we got moving.  I was a gentleman, offering to take a bag for her.  And off we went.

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I was kind of afraid that my car would stall on the way there, but her car wasn't all that great.  I remember her complaining about the air conditioning not working while she was wanking me.  Besides, where's her car now that I have to take her home?  Bottom line is that I was about to get some sexual activity going on, so I wasn't worried that my car was going to break down.

****e* first lit up a cigarette, then a marijuana cigarette.  During the half-hour drive to her place by the lake she pretty much dominated the small talk we had.  Learned a lot about her: She had a blue-collar job that was downsized; she's conservative; she has no wheels because car insurance became too prohibitive; and although she lives in a cabin (which I mistakenly called a trailer, although once I went inside it's basically the same thing), she also lives in a very, very tony part of town.  She may not have a lot of money, but at least she resides in a great place, albeit far.

I wanted to arouse her, and myself.  I imagined reaching over and grabbing her crotch.  But I didn't think I could reach that far without driving us off the road.  I also thought about opening up fly and driving with my dick out, enticing ****e* to reach over and grab me.  But since I didn't know I was going to have this set-up and tryst until I left the house, I was wearing long underwear, so that wasn't feasible.  We just had to reach her place.

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Like I said, it's Keeping Up With The Joneses meets white trash.  Actually, her place is very homey -- living room, kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, and another auxiliary room (or is it a closet?).  She had a ton of shit in there, so maybe she could have used several more square feet.  Also, the walls in the bathroom are either knocked through or starting to buckle, and heat doesn't circulate through the cabin well.  But if I were single and confident enough to live by myself, this would be a perfect place to strike out on my own, and maybe even live the rest of my life.

I was trying to strike a balance with ****e* between getting to know her and getting down with her.  I still question my motivations.  On the one hand, I really wanted to talk to her, what makes her tick, what her history is and, best of all, what turns her on.  But striking up a conversation means I open myself up to the possibility I wouldn't get a lil' sumpin'-sumpin'.  So I wanted to make sure I got my HJ.  But I didn't want this to be just a mechanical monetary transaction either.  I planned on going back to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition), and completely cutting off any feelings with her would be hard to do whenever I see her dancing onstage.

What helped is that I told ****e* that I needed to be home at a decent hour and she telling me that she did have to meet someone soon, but not right now.  So, although we had time, we didn't have time, so a few minutes after she gave me a brief tour of her place, we closed the bedroom door behind us and started stripping each other.

It was the first time I was able to unhook a woman's bra.  She did most of the work taking her own clothes off, but she kept her panties on.  Like most women, I had to cajole ****e* into stripping me, and she only undressed me down to my long underwear.  Oh well; with that, I started touching her, and she me.

She bites.  Don't know where she started, but from the yellowing blotches I noticed about a week or two ago (about a week or two after it happened) she got me in the belly, around both nipples, and my arm.  I like that.  It didn't feel good when she bit me, but to me, sex is like that: Violent.  What she didn't do is jerk me off for real.  What was all this groping stuff, I asked her, and she talked back with a bunch of gibberish about, "Aren't you something!" and "You think I'm a whore or what?!"

But after I pulled out my band and revealed my dick -- which, after some time acclimating myself to my surroundings and having survived the car trip there -- was hard, she lunged for it.  And after dropping trou completely, she never really let go.  And then, finally, ****e* revealed her true, primitive, nasty, perverted, whorish self: Even though I didn't ask for it (though she goddamn well knew I wouldn't have minded it), she bent down, stuck out her tongue, and oh-so-gently started licking my dick.  I couldn't believe it!  And while she remained sheepish about it, ****e* started looking me in the eye when she licked me.  "I can't believe I'm doing this!" she said at one point.  Neither could I -- but thank God she was!

Over the course of an hour we were starting to get into it.  I think she sucked my dick -- think, because it looked as though she opened her mouth wide and laid it over my penis.  I may -- just may -- have felt her lips around my sex organ a few times, so it's very possible she blew me.  This sadly was nowhere near the blowjob ***a* gave me.  Then again, ****e* didn't gouge me with her teeth like ***a* did.  Not that I'm complaining about that; at least I felt her when she clamped down on my fuckstick.

What I really wanted to do was fuck her, but I couldn't.  ****e* allowed me to finger-bang her like I was reaching down the drain for my wedding ring, but I did not slip it inside her.  What I did do was this dry-hump thing, where I was above her and thrusted my cock at her panties.  She moaned and writhed like she enjoyed it, so I kept it up, but at one point I thought to myself, "Am I really doing anything?"

Unfortunately, I didn't cum like I wanted to.  Maybe I wasn't really comfortable in this situation after all.  But it was getting to be about an hour, and we both were butting up against things we needed to do.  So I agreed to jerk myself off while she laid on her bed and I'd shoot all over her chest.  I was hoping ****e* and I would be so simpatico that I would be able to respond to her touch by cumming, but it was not to be.  Hopefully next time.

And after going into the bathroom together -- both of us to towel ourselves off, her to pee (all that finger-banging is hard on the urinary system, I figure)  -- I gave her $120 and I was off.  For what I got, $120 was a huge steal.  I just hope that I'm both hard and feel safe with her the next time we do this.  I want to be able to ejaculate upon her touch.

Let me admit something else: As I alluded way in the beginning of this post, she is one of the, um, more mature dancers at the stripclub.  While we were "doing it" I asked her age; I still can't quite believe her answer.  Moreover, the first few times I saw her dance, way back when, we may not have gotten along.  It didn't have anything to do with looks; I think our personalities clashed.  Thankfully I forgot about all of that and honed in on the fact that she's down to trick for money.

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Wanted to get this story out of the way because this (Wednesday) morning I get to see ***a* again.  This time there is no party; hopefully it'll be just her and me, and I pray that she sucks my dick so good I cum my colon out.  And then I hope to take a nap while laying next to her in bed.

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