Saturday, July 15, 2017

A Tale Of Two Stripper Parties, Part Two

I believe that the second party happened the night following the milestone, mind-blowing first.  But this was back in early March, more than four months ago, so I could be wrong.

I met ******e at one of *****a's parties.  We established a quick rapport.  And even though I didn't get a dance from her, we exchanged numbers in case she could do something on the side.  And I knew she would do something on the side because I surreptitiously whipped out my cock on her and she didn't freak out.

I continued to flirt with her through texting.  But when I got really horny and asked for services and prices, she threw the question back at me: "What do you want?"  Now, when someone replies to a question I have with a question, I figure that gives me carte blanche to ask for anything, even if it's ridiculous.  Hey, she gives me the opportunity to ask for the moon, the moon is what I will ask.

So I say, "OK ... uh, can I have sex with you without a condom?"  I was joking.  OK, I was sort of joking.  No, wait, I wasn't really joking at all.

******e didn't cotton to that well: "If you want a Wal-Mart whore, be my guest, but that ain't me," and I'm pretty sure she didn't say that, but that was her sentiment.  I mean, she seemed pretty upset that I asked for sex the way God intended.  I did not bring up the fact that she didn't say she wouldn't do it because that might anger her further.

I didn't know what to say after that.  That didn't seem to anger her, however.  I don't know who re-initiated communication, but we got to talking again a bit after that, probably because of a party she was working.  Eventually, in preparation of another party (or maybe this was the party after she got turned off by what I asked for -- again, I can't remember), I agreed on a price for what I thought was a handjob.  I think ******e intimated things to me that, even though it wouldn't be a rimjob, would leave me satisfied.

This was back in *****a's house, by the way.  After waiting it was finally time to see what she's got.  So I begin to undress ... no, no, no, says *****e, I have to keep my porno pants on.  And instantly I knew that she fucked me over.  She was trying to be all seductive and shit, but to me she was stalling so she could get out of there without any cum on her hands or even without looking at my pee-pee.  I don't care that I didn't specifically say "touch my pee-pee" when we texted back-and-forth; she was supposed to, and she didn't.

But wait.  I go back to our flirty texts and she said that whenever I give her money I am -- and I don't know if I have this right because, hey, it's been months -- "making an investment in our" ... uh, I guess it would be a relationship.  Now, I didn't exactly know what ******e meant.  I did draw the line at some of the things she finally requested from me.  For example, there was no fucking way I could pay her more than $200 at a time.  She also insisted that for all the shit I want her to do to me -- up to and including unprotected sex -- we would have to get to know each other first -- by, for example, taking her out for a drink.  You mean, like an escort, right?  (I didn't say that to her.)  I understand that what I have partaken for, well, more than a decade isn't too far from hiring an escort.  Nevertheless, hearing that was a huge red flag for me.

But trying to think back to my mindset at that time, I guess I was OK with whatever $150 got me.  It didn't seem like this "investment" was getting me anything, but this is where "but wait" got better.  All this time we were talking.  I had made it known to ******e that I did not appreciate this small talk because I felt she was screwing me over.  But after addressing the elephant in the room I began to get over myself.

All this time, even though I had my porno pants on, my fly was open.  That is when ******e opened it just a little.  She commented on how furry I was down there; I told her that I didn't feel the need to manscape.  Seeing an opening (pun intended) I unbuttoned myself.  At first she didn't like that, but then she began to dive deep into the joy a woman derives from a man with shaven pubic hair.  She then got up and pulled down her panties, which had been on all this time.  She was neatly groomed -- not bare, like most women nowadays (and don't get my started as to why I think that's insane), but she has a trimmed strip that made her look both like a grown and a tidy woman.

That's when I really started to loosen up.  I enjoyed my conversation with her, but this was when I finally felt like I was getting my money's worth.  ******e didn't give up on me, and maybe because I calmed down she finally gave me a little somethin'-somethin'.  Further delving into the manners of shaving my pubes, she finally grabs my cock in order to demonstrate how much of a pain in the ass it is for a woman to go down on a man only to come face-to-face with a swath of long and stringy hair.  She held onto my dick after she made her point, possibly to give me the extra I so nakedly wanted.  I think I thickened myself.  Hopefully I did.

That's when another stripper, Alexis, came in to look for her jacket.  I got up and laid by my side, pants open delicately so Alexis could see my penis sticking out from amongst my hairs like a thistle and flower nestled by its leaves.  She might not have been paying attention, though.

Alexis' hunt for her jacket was a signal that the party was over.  ******e and I had spoken for so long that we went well past the end time of the party.  What turned out to be a useless conversation turned out to be a deep one.  I like being the last guy at a party.  And I would have dropped my pants and shown every stripper there my main vein, but *****a had her sister there, and she doesn't do that shit, so I didn't.  Instead I waited for ******e to get dressed so I could escort (pun intended) her to her car.  I actually find her to be quite charming, even fascinating.  And I hope she didn't think my "investment" to her was a waste of time.

Unfortunately that was the last party I have seen her at.  We don't text, either.  My last communication with her was around Memorial Day.  She said she needed to know if there were any other parties I had heard of because she wanted to barge into the roster and work.  ******e said she would not be available for six weeks afterward.  Where is she going?  Stripping out-of-state?  Jail?  I don't know, but if she is only gone for six weeks, she should be back around now, so maybe I'll contact her again and maybe, just maybe, she can bewitch me once more ... and possibly step up the physical contact!

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