A Sweet Homecoming Ch. 01

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A Viet Nam vet spends his first night back with a dancer.
6.8k words
4.45
25.5k
8
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Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 12/23/2003
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Joe F.
Joe F.
200 Followers

1971 was a good year for me in many ways. It started out sort of bad, but picked up once I was on the plane back from Viet Nam. 20 hours in the air, a touch down at Travis Air Force Base and a long bus ride to the heart of San Francisco put my spirits in the stratosphere.

I wasn't planning on flying home until the next day. San Francisco was a town that I was very fond of and I was intending to do a little partying tonight so I checked into a fair hotel a block from the bus depot.

I told the clerk that I was just off the plane from Nam and Needed a room for the night. He just grunted like he had heard all that before, took my money and gave me my key. I looked at the key and he grunted again, "Room 307, just take the elevator over there," he pointed to his left, "It's on the third floor, at the end of the hall, on your left."

I picked up my bag and headed for the elevator.

The room was nice and a lot cleaner than the hooch that I had lived in for the past year. Nowhere was to be found the stench of charcoal fires and diesel. “This must be what home smells like,” I thought to myself.

I stepped into the bathroom and stripped for a shower. It had been a long time since I had taken a shower without a lot of other guys around. But, the quiet was nice and this bathroom smelled a lot better than the head back in Nam. I put out my gear, turned on the shower and looked at myself in the big mirror.

I was only twenty-one, but after a year of river patrols I felt and looked much older. The innocence that was in my eyes and attitude the last time I was in the bay area had been replaced with a caution and circumspection verging on cynicism. But I guess part of the price of going to war is the loss of innocence.

I wasn’t a bad looking guy I thought. If it wasn’t for the G.I. haircut I might have passed for a college student from the southwest. I stood a bit over six feet tall, with a full beard and a good all over tan. I was trim and muscular at a fighting weight of one hundred eighty five pounds. I had been the light heavy weight champ of my unit and worked out whenever I could to keep in shape.

After a nice long shower and a change of clothes I headed down to the bar in the lobby. I bellied up to the bar, ordered a Beam and ginger ale, and took a look around the bar. It was a pretty nice place overall but I was definitely the youngest person in the joint and there were definitely no women present either. Everyone in the bar with the exception of myself was fifty plus and male, it looked like a traveling salesman’s’ rest home.

I tossed back my drink, ordered another, drank that one and headed out the door. I was in search of a sleazy joint with a decently priced drink that I could sip while I watched comely young ladies dance naked. That sort of place abounded in San Fran, you just needed to know what rock to look under. I for one, was well versed in rock turning in this area. I had been stationed in the Bay Area for over a year prior to my being sentenced to a year in Nam, so I had no problem navigating the terrain.

I hit half dozen joints before settling on the one that would take my money. It was a small place, the bar was only half full of ‘in town on business’ types, and the drinks were cheap. But the real reason that I stayed was that I wasn’t mobbed by the bar girls the minute that I walked through the door.

I sat down at the end of the bar and ordered a whisky and seven from the bartender. When he put it in front of me I raised the glass and took a long sip. The drink was plenty strong so I paid him and included a generous gratuity. It was then I turned to take in the place and the show.

Although the place was small it had two small stages. One of the stages was at the far end of the bar. The other stage was directly in front of me as I sat with my back to the bar.

At the moment there was a sleazy looking blonde gyrating in front of the suits at the far end of the place. She looked like she had definitely seen better days. As a friend of mine was wont to say, “She’s been rode hard and put away wet,” probably on more than one occasion.

A very similar creature occupied the stage directly in front of me. Her hair was stringy and greasy, her tits sagged and flopped and even from this vantage I could see that she had tracks on her arms. She was either a junkie or a speed freak. I had no intention of dealing with either of those types tonight.

I watched her squirm on stage for a few minutes as I sipped my drink. Even in my easily aroused state she did nothing for me but make my skin crawl.

I finished my drink and turned back to the barkeep and ordered another of the same. When it arrived I paid for the drink, took a deep sip and immediately noticed that it was substantially weaker than the first. I put the drink down and motioned the guy back.

I looked the bartender in the eye, smiled, and said, “You stiffed me bud. This drink is a hell of a lot weaker than the first one that you gave me.” Before he could plead innocent I continued, “ I’m not a ‘suit’ in town for a day and wanting a good time with one of your Skaggs.” I motioned toward the business types crawling all over the blonde on the far stage. “I just got in from Nam tonight and all I’m looking for is a little visual stimulus and a decent drink. If you bring me a nice strong drink you’ll get a nice tip each time. If you bring me hog piss like this drink here, you’ll be lucky if I even pay for it. In fact if you don’t fortify this glass right now, you may soon be wearing the drink that you just served me.”

He looked at me for a second before he reached over to the well and grabbed the bottle of rotgut that they called whiskey in this place. He looked me in the eye as he filled the glass to the top. I nodded to him as he pulled the bottle away, picked up the drink and took a long pull.

As he turned to leave I reached into my front pocket and pulled out a couple of bills and put them on the bar for him. He took the money with a half smile, half sneer kind of expression on his face. The guy didn’t like me much anymore I could tell, but I was pretty sure that I was going to get a fair drink from him the rest of the evening.

I turned around just in time to see the junkie pull on some of her clothes and leave the stage. She sidled over to me and asked in what she must have thought to be a seductive voice, “Would you like some company honey?”

I responded with, “I’m not really interested sweetheart.”

She feigned a hurt look and said, “Ok, your loss.” She then stumbled down the bar to the scrum of drunken businessmen, where she was immediately provided with a drink and a grope.

I turned my attention back to my drink. I tipped it up and took a good, deep sip. When I brought the glass down I caught the sight of a fairly attractive brunette mounting the steps of the stage in front of me.

She was in her early twenties but looked younger, tall with long dark hair and a very nice figure. She was dressed in denim shorts, a leather halter-top, and knee-high boots. She had a nice rack and a tight ass. All in all she filled out her clothes very nicely.

Her music started and she began to dance. It started as pretty much the same bump and grind the other dancers had performed, but her appearance and physical attributes made it all a bit more interesting to watch.

She danced around a bit, squatting down in what was supposed to be a sexy move, then thrusting her pelvis out at the customers. She bent over to show her ass, squatted once more and rose with a shimmy and a shake. I was getting very disappointed with the performance until she brought her hands up to her breasts and squeezed.

Her breasts almost popped out of her skimpy halter-top as she caressed them with her sensuous fingers. She ran her hands up her tits and then down them once again, all the time pushing them together to make her ample cleavage appear even greater and more enticing.

She moved her hands to her back and slowly untied the knot securing the back of the halter-top. The top fell free and hung there by the neck strap while she ran her hands under the leather fabric and massaged her breasts. The slight movement of her hands on her bare skin moved the leather aside just enough to show a little nipple and a lot of skin.

She turned around, exposing her bare back to the small crowd in the bar. As she turned I caught the profile of her ample bosom and it was definitely breath taking.

With her back to the bar she wrapped her arms around herself and ran her hands up and down her bare skin. She rotated her ass for the crowd, grinding seductively, before sliding her hands down her back to her ass. She took the cheeks of in her hands and squeezed them, running her fingers over them. The effect was very erotic in a way the other women had been unable to pull off.

She turned her head over her shoulder seemed to look directly at me, smiled and began to slowly move her hands back up her bare back. When she reached her neck she took the knot of the neckband into her hands, untied it and let the leather garment flutter to the floor.

She seemed to be looking directly at me as she ran her hands over her now bare bosom and down her flat stomach to the waistband of her shorts. She hooked her fingers into the waistband, released the snap and pulled the shorts down. She slowly bent over, I got a really nice view of her brown eye as she rotated her ass at me before she straightened up and pulled up the shorts.

She looked over her shoulder at me again, seemed to wink at me, then brought her hands up to her bountiful breasts and slowly turned back to face the bar.

Her hands were not able to fully cover her tits. There is no way that such small hands would ever be able to conceal such lovely jugs.

She placed her hands so that the palms were covering the nipples while the fingers were pointed in the general direction of her ample cleavage. As I watched she slowly spread her fingers. Slowly exposing more of her alabaster skin to view. As I began to drool she started to slowly rotate her hands over her nipples. Her pink tongue darted sensuously over her bright red lips. She smiled and blew a kiss at the crowd/me and pushed her tits together before sliding her hands finally from her beasts, down, across her hard, flat stomach.

Once fully exposed, her jugs were definitely a joy to behold. They were sweet and lusciously large and firm, without a hint of sag. Long erect nipples nestled in large brown aureoles beckoned to be suckled upon. Smooth expanses of silken white flesh begged for a hand to caress them. They jiggled slightly while she danced, the subtle movement mesmerized me and raised the heat of my loins.

She ran her hands over her midriff and then over her boobs once again. Moving them slowly across the lovely white flesh, caressing them, virtually making love to them. The show was making me fully aroused, my cock was beginning to strain at my pants. I'm sure that she knew the effect she was having on me and she seemed to have centered in on me as her primary audience of the night.

She moved her hands from her breasts and slowly slid them over the enticing expanse of white flesh that was her stomach until they reached the waistband of her shorts. She placed her fingers on her waistband and undid the snap that was holding the fly together.

She looked at me as she slowly opened the fly, exposing the top strands of her pubic hair. Ever so slowly she pulled the fly farther open, each second that passed presented a better view of the area just above her pussy. I dearly wanted to jump up and rip the shorts off of her and have my way with her on that very stage. Willing or unwilling I lusted for completion within her cunt.

I tore my gaze away from her shorts. My eyes traveled up her body, visually ravishing first her flat stomach then her breasts. Finally my gaze rested on her face, I gazed into her eyes and she smiled at me.

Her smile made my heart skip and then race. I could feel the heat build in my loins and my face as my lust grew for this voluptuous waif.

Holding tight to the cloth of her shorts she took a half step toward me and lifted one of her booted feet slightly off the stage. She nodded toward her foot, seeming to indicate that she wanted me to remove it.

I dumbly pointed to my chest and mouthed, “Me?”

She shook her head in affirmation, smiled, and mouthed back, “Yes.”

I slid off the barstool, took a step toward the stage and reached up to grasp the heel of the boot. I could see that the boots fit tightly and a zipper ran the full length of the inside of each boot from just below the knee to the sole. I slowly unzipped the first boot and slid it gently from her foot.

She placed her now bare foot on the stage and balancing on it raised her other booted foot to my waiting hands. Once more I released the zipper and slowly pulled the footwear from her foot.

She smiled at me once more and I picked up both of her boots and returned to my seat at the bar. I placed the boots on the bar next to me almost as trophies.

Now a barefoot wench, she slowly turned her back to the rest of the bar and slowly pushed her shorts down her legs. As the garment reached her knees she let the drop to the stage, stood straight, and kicked the shorts to the back of the stage.

Slowly, sensuously, she ran her hands over her body. Although I could only see her back I could visualize her hands caressing her lovely breasts and then slowly sliding down to stroke her pussy. I visualized her fingers sliding luxuriously along the wet flesh of her slit before traversing once more the smooth flesh of her stomach to caress the swelling globes of her tits. Placing an arm across her chest and a hand over her cunt she slowly turned to face me, and the crowd. She looked at me and slowly lowered herself to where her knees were bent to nearly a squat and her legs were apart. She slowly slid her hand away from her pussy. I could see the bright pink flesh of her spread open cunt lips and the protrusion of a very erect clitoris. The sight made my mouth water.

Her arm slid away from across her breasts. Her nipples stood erect and hard in a wide circle of aureole. The skin of her breasts showed a pale pink. It was either from excitement or from the abrasion of her hands rubbing over them. Either way right then I wanted dearly to run my hands over them and feel their velvet softness for myself.

Slowly she stood upright, looked at the crowd and bowed deeply to all of the patrons in the bar. At that, a round of applause rang out from the room augmented with wolf whistles and yells of bravo, hooray, etc.

She bowed deeply once more, her breasts swinging seductively with the motion. She extended her hand toward me and I looked dumbly at her not understanding her meaning. She pointed at her feet and smiled. I grabbed her boots from the bar and handed then to her, getting a pleasant view of her bobbing breasts as she bent to take the from me.

She bent to retrieve her clothing from the floor of the stage and clutching them to her body like an embarrassed virgin she climbed quickly down the stairs and passed through the door to the rear of the stage. As her succulent bottom disappeared from sight I had an inexplicable and irrational feeling of loss.

I sat still for a moment before turning around and placing my now empty glass on the bar. I motioned to the bartender indicating I need a refill. He quickly built me a fresh drink, got his tip and left me to my thoughts.

“She sure was inspired tonight.” Said a voice to my left.

I turned and saw that the bouncer had moved up next to me during the performance. I had been so totally engrossed in the show that I had let someone slip up on my blind side without my even knowing it. Where I had been the past year a slip up like that could have cost me my life or one of my buddies their life.

I shook off the feeling of apprehension and exposure and said to him, “Yeah man, she is one hot fox. That sexy dance of hers really got me going there.”

He looked at me and responded, “She isn’t that into it most nights. Tonight she sure had a fire lit under her for some reason.”

“Well she sure lit a fire under me, if you know what I mean.” I said and chuckled. My dick was only now growing soft. During most of the performance it was at full attention.

The bouncer looked over at me, his eyes squinted menacingly and he said, “Don’t you be getting any ideas about her ya hear.” He nodded vaguely in the direction the dancer had taken from the stage and continued, “Kathy is my girl friend, and I don’t let nobody fool around with my old lady. You understand?”

I looked him up and down before I replied, “I think that everybody in this bar including myself has some ‘idea’ about her after the performance she just put on.” I looked him in the eye before continuing, “Whether I have any intention about acting on that ‘idea’ is another thing entirely.”

I turned back to my drink and sat there in silence, lost in thoughts so fleeting as to not have any real substance at all. The bouncer sat there next to me and nursed his drink too, but it wasn’t long before the bartender came down bar and ordered the bouncer to return to his post at the entrance to the bar.

Minutes passed as I sat there slowly sipping my beverage. The sounds of the bar ebbed and flowed with the moment. Fresh dancers mounted the stages and strutted their wares but I ignored them.

I sensed a movement to my right, I glanced into the mirror behind the bar and saw the dancer, Kathy, moving toward me. She moved up next to me and leaned against the bar.

“Hi.” She said, “My name is Kathy. Would you like some company?” And she extended her hand for me to shake.

I smiled at her, took her hand in mine and said, “Sure, I’d love the companionship. But I have to tell you up front that I have no intention of sitting here all night buying you Saigon tea and then leaving the bar with a case of blue balls and an empty wallet.”

She looked at me quizzically and asked, “Saigon tea? What the hell is Saigon tea? Is that some new drink or something?”

I chuckled at her ignorance and responded with, “Saigon tea is a drink that they serve the bar girls in Viet Nam when they’re trying to rake a G.I. Its just plain tea or coke, maybe very watered down alcohol that’s served in a shot glass and sold at a premium price.”

She nodded her head and said, ”I see, I didn’t know that.”

I said then, “If you want to just sit here and talk I‘d really enjoy that. Or if you want a drink we can get you a real one if you like. Its just that, well, I just spent a year of my life buying gals drinks just to have their companionship and I really don’t want to continue that here at home too.”

She looked me in the eye and replied, “Hell, you look like a nice guy, I just wanted to sit and talk with you. Don’t worry about buying me any drinks if you don’t want to.” She looked up and down the bar before continuing, “Besides, it looks like business is starting to drop off anyway. The boss, she nodded toward the barkeep, won’t mind if I sit here and keep you out of trouble for a while.” She turned her head toward the bartender and said in a loud voice, “Will ya Charlie?”

The barkeep looked up from polishing glasses and replied, “Nope, that’s your business babe, not mine.” And he returned his attention to his glasses and the boisterous crowd at the other end of the bar that now had the two Skaggs pretty much undressed, again.

I just said, “Far out!” and ordered a round for the two of us.

We just seemed to chat naturally, easily for some reason. Our discussion ranged from ourselves to the war to the weather. I found out that her brother had been killed in Nam a few months before and she missed him dearly. She had been going to college but dropped out when her grades fell too low and she had gone to work dancing in bars to fill the pantry and pay her part of the rent.

Joe F.
Joe F.
200 Followers
12