"Mediterranean" Goddess

I nonchalantly checked out the place while I waited. Most of the customers were spread out around the room at tables or at the bar, not at the edge of the stage. All the dancers I could see were sitting next to customers engaged in relaxed conversation. Good. I didn't want to feel pressured for table or lap dances all night. From what I could see, most of the dancers were not knock-out beauties but were attractive enough - and most were out of their 20's.

When the waitress reappeared with my beer, I wanted some information. "Thanks, Ma'am. That's just what I needed." I handed her a $2 tip on a $2.50 beer.

"Thank you, Hon'. When you want another it's Flo." She said with a smile while tucking the tip away.

"Tell me, Flo. How do lap dances or table dances work around here?" Get the waitress on your good side and you're golden.

"Well, we don't really do table dances much here. Most guys enjoy the stage show instead. But lap dances are done back in the private booth." Flo pointed to the corner just to the right of the stage. The "private" booth seemed to consist of an L-shaped wall that came out about 7 feet from the far right wall, making a right turn to the back wall for another 4 feet or so. The wall was solid to about 5 feet in height and was a lattice work to the ceiling after that. The L-turn side faced the stage had about a 3 foot gap completely open to view to whoever was on stage. I figured there was room for only one customer at a time, and it was not that private.

"Is there a standard house rate for laps?" At some clubs, dancers will try to gouge new meat.

"Yeah. It's 20 bucks. You have to buy a ticket from me or at the bar. Then you give the ticket to the girl when you get the dance." A ticket? That was a new one on me, but I hadn't been to many places in this lap dance era.

I took an elaborately enthusiastic swig of my beer and winked, "That really was what I needed. Thanks, Flo." Flo smiled and moved onto a table of guys who just came in.

I settled in to get the lay of the land a little more. The dancer on stage now had her top off. She had pretty nice pair of C cups with dark nipples and aureole. A guy went up to the stage and put a dollar bill between his lips. The dancer sashayed over to him and grinded a while. Then she bent over and buried the guy's face between her tits. After slapping the sides of his head with her boobs, she used her hands to push her tits together and slowly pulled back, removing the dollar from his mouth with her breasts. I watched another guy get equally good mileage for just a buck. Yeah. This was the right kind of place to ease some of my sexual tension. However, the feminist in me brought an overwhelming feeling of guilt. I contemplated quickly downing my beer and departing.

As the song came to a close, the dancer took off her shorts, using her high-heeled shoe to flick them into the corner of the stage. Underneath she had on thong that might as well have not even been there. I think they sometimes call this style dental floss. She started what had to be at least her third song of the set. I knew she must be close to the end of the set. I took my time taking another sip or two of beer, contemplating my horniness versus my respect for women. I finally recalled discussions that I had with dancers in the past where they made it clear that they didn't feel exploited. I finally put all doubt out of my head and extricated three dollar bills out of the wad of ones I had brought. Not Charlie Sheen money, but more than I had seen spent.

I went up to the stage and sat in one of the empty chairs. I wasn't quite sure of the protocol yet, so I simply held the money casually in front of me in plain sight. Although in no rush, the dancer immediately started dancing her way toward me. I made sure the bills were fanned so that if she cared she would notice there was more than one. On her way to me, she sexily moved onto all fours and crawled toward me with a sinuous cat-like motion. She gave me a lascivious smile as she got near, and turned and sat on her rear right in front of me. She spread her legs wide and began gyrating her hips in slow unison to the blasting power ballad. Instead of looking at her exposed pussy where I knew most guys would, I looked her straight in the eye and smiled. I started to rock to the music, matching the timing of her movements. She smiled in response. After a few moments, she thrust her hips, violently fucking the air. I felt she was impelling me to look between her legs and I happily complied. Her shaved pussy was almost completely exposed. It had been so long since I had witnessed such a sight, I was completely intoxicated by the view. Fumbling, I put the money on the stage in front of me and ogled. She gave me a highly playful and flirtatious grin. She then scooted closer to me until she was so close that she put her legs over my shoulders, resting her calves on my shoulders. I could have easily buried my face in her love triangle. Instead, I gave an exaggerated, "Rrreeow." I then put the back of my hand to my forehead feigning a swoon. She giggled and increased the radius of her gyrations. After I enjoyed a good long look up and down her body, she eventually pulled one leg over her head and spun herself sideways in front of me. She held out one side of her thong and said, "Put 'em in here." I happily complied. She brought her head close to mine. "Name's Crystal," she said putting out her hand.

Shaking her hand, I replied, "I'm Carl. Thank you for the excellent show, Crystal."

"No. Thank you," she said. With that she kissed my cheek and exited the stage as the song ended.

I went back to my seat trying to be cool, but I knew I had a big grin on.

I finished my beer and had Flo bring me a new one while the next two dancers did their routines. The first was a African-American in her mid 20s. She had long legs and a fine ass. She was pretty small up top, and most guys probably wouldn't have classified her as beautiful, or even pretty. However, she danced great and did some fantastic pole work. The next was a tall brunette with pale skin. She was probably in her mid to late thirties, and a few pounds overweight with a bit of a tummy. Again, guys at an upscale club probably wouldn't have given her much respect, but she had a great pair of tits and a fun loving personality. I made a trip to the stage every song for each of these dancers, giving them a buck or two each time. They flirted and paid me plenty of personal attention. Before each left the stage, I learned that the first went by Desiree and the second went by Sapphire.

I was starting to contemplate whether I wanted a private dance with Crystal, Desiree, or Sapphire, when the next dancer came to the stage. Immediately, I knew this was the one I wanted to spend more time with. She was short, probably barely 5 feet. Her compact body was well-rounded. From behind she had a firm bubble-butt, which was already highly exposed in the skimpy bikini she had on. From the front she had perfectly rounded C or D cup breasts. But it was her mysterious eyes that immediately pulled me in. Although she was a blue-eyed blonde, her eyes had an exotic, dreamy look. She flirted and laughed easily with the regulars who were at the front. Her dance moves revealed years of classical training -- somehow making her voluptuous short body look sleek and graceful.

As soon as she finished with the first couple of tippers, I went up with a couple of dollars out and sat at the stage. Moving to the music she floated to me. She indicated that I should pull my chair closer. She squatted in front of me and took the money from my hand. She folded the bills once lengthwise and tucked one onto each of my ears the way you might store a pencil there. Giving me a sultry look that started part of me to melt and part of me to rise, she put her hands on the counter in front of me and brought her head to the side of my head. She gently rubbed her head on mine and moaned seductively. I could feel her hot breath all over my neck and in my ear. She took her time occasionally brushing her lips on me while she moaned and continued to expel hot breath on my skin. Finally, she removed the dollar from my ear with her lips, pulling on my ear and moaning in it in the process. After seductively removing the dollar from her mouth, she repeated the same move on the other side. By the time she finished with me and moved on, I was in a stupor. The only part of me that seemed capable of moving was Mr. Chubby who made a steady rise.

Well, there was no way that I was going to leave the stage, even if I wasn't sporting the beginning of serious wood. On her next visit to me, she had her top off, revealing large sexy nipples. She brought them close to my face for a long look, then pulled my head in between them. After rocking me in her chest for awhile, she used her juicy breasts to remove the bills from my mouth as the dancer I had seen earlier had done. I was in heaven. Her breasts felt silken and hot on my face. I kept my composure a little better than her first visit and mouthed "Thank you" to her as she moved on. She smiled happily in return.

In her last song, she had her bottom off too, completely nude except for her heels. Although wearing less on her bottom than Crystal, she didn't spread wide, but danced seductively in front of me, slowly working her way to the ground. The whole time my eyes were locked with hers. She wound up on all fours, facing me, somehow dancing even though she was on hands and knees. Our eyes still remained locked. Her seductive stare transported me to some exotic locale. When the song ended she just laid down sideways in front of me while she collected the tip. Her attitude changed to casually friendly. "In the club, I'm Frankie. My real name is Tanya, but call me Frankie here." She thrust out her tiny hand. When I shook it, she shook it more like a linebacker than a tiny dancer.

"I call you anything you want." She laughed with her eyes at my joke. "I'm Carl."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Carl." Frankie seemed in no hurry to leave the stage.

"I thoroughly enjoyed your dancing," I said earnestly. In a lighthearted fashion I added, "But you could probably tell that."

Frankie chuckled, "Yeah, I could. You were a pleasure to dance for, Carl."

"I'd consider myself lucky if you would join me for a drink when you can, Frankie." I wasn't going to wait for her to ask me.

"I'd like that. I'll be over as soon as I can." With that she stood up and gathered her things. The next dancer was already on the stage but didn't seem impatient.

At strip clubs "as fast as they can" is never as fast as you want them to return. I had immediately purchased a couple of lap dance tickets, but I didn't see Frankie all during the next dancer's set. The second dancer, Diamond, was a mature dark African-American woman. Her breasts were probably spectacular at 20, but they were still quite nice at 40+. Diamond had a great playful personality, and I enjoyed flirting with while I tipped her. I was heading up to the stage for the third time in her set when I heard a woman's voice shout.

"You be nice to Carl here, Diamond. He's a sweetie." I turned to see Frankie approaching me.

"Oh, I know he's a sweetheart." Diamond replied. "Should we give him the special treatment?"

"That's what I'm thinkin'" responded Frankie. She turned a chair around so that its back touched the stage and motioned me to sit. After I complied she instructed, "Lean all the way back."

I stayed sitting mostly straight up and leaned my head back. In a mocking tone, Frankie demanded, "No, aaallll the way." With that she pushed my forehead until my head and shoulders were resting flat on the stage.

"That's it, Baby." I could hear Diamond say. I looked up to see Diamond starting to dance over my head. The view of her hanging tits from directly underneath was just what the doctor ordered. Without a word, Frankie took the two bucks from my hand, creased them and placed them lengthwise on my nose. I continued to stare up at Diamond as she danced farther forward. She was still wearing a g-string, but it didn't cover much. I had a perfect view of her short cropped snatch.

Unexpectedly, Frankie sat down on my lap, which was quite drawn out by my laying position. I looked forward and Frankie smiled at me then pointed at Diamond. I laid my head back down and watched Diamond as I was told. Frankie started gyrating on my crotch simulating sex. At this point, I thought both heads were going to explode, but these two vixens were far from done. Frankie undid the top two or three buttons of my shirt and began running her hands seductively over my chest. To Diamond she said, "MMmm. Hairy chest." I thought this can't get better, then Diamond began lowering herself.

Soon, Diamond was squatting with her pussy waving inches from my face. I could smell her womanhood clearly. The smell was intoxicating. Frankie was now grinding on a raging hard-on. I would have worried about hiding this physiological expression of my horniness from her, but I clearly didn't need to worry because she focused her grinding right on my rod. Then Frankie began running her nails up and down my chest. This was as close as I could get to sex without having sex. I was completely losing myself. Vaguely I thought Don't come here in front of everyone! However, the little head was clearly in control. Luckily, the song abruptly ended. Diamond sat on my face and used her ass cheeks to pick up the tip and stood up. Frankie stopped her grinding and caressed my shoulders while pulling me to a sitting position. Frankie had a very self-satisfied look on her face. She knew that she had worked me up to a fever pitch. I forced myself back to reality and quickly took out a couple of fives. I gave one each to Frankie and Diamond thanking them.

Frankie pulled me out of the seat and still holding my hand started walking toward my table. "How about that drink now?" she asked coyly over her shoulder. All I could do was nod. She stayed close to me while we walked. I think that she was trying to hide the still rock hard Mr. Chubby.

When we sat down, Frankie said playfully, "That was fun."

I gave her an exaggerated you're-not-kidding look and said as jovially as possible, "Yeah. It was good for me."

"No. Serious. I really enjoyed that." Frankie did seem more serious. I looked at her quizzically. She went on to explain a bit sheepishly. "It's been a while for me."

Before either of us could continue, Flo asked for orders. I got Frankie the dancer's champagne which was remarkably affordable -- no gouging here. When Flo departed, we reached for our drinks to make a toast. Frankie fumbled slightly with hers, almost knocking it over. That's when I realized that she was intoxicated. I already knew that while I was waiting for her she must have stepped outside for a smoke. While doing that, she must have either pounded a few shots or enjoyed something not quite legal.

"To new friends." I toasted, clinking my beer bottle to her champagne glass.

"Ooh. I like that." Frankie replied.

To avoid the effects of the loud music, I leaned in close to Frankie and asked, "How could it have been a while? I'm sure that guys must fall over themselves for an opportunity to be with a woman as remarkably beautiful as you." She couldn't hold a candle to Maria, and Mandy had youth on her side, but Frankie was remarkably beautiful to me.

She made a scoffing noise and rejoined, "I wouldn't say the men fall down for me. And it's more complicated than that." I maintained my interested look, which wasn't difficult because it let me look in her dreamy eyes. "My man cheated on me a while back. We broke up, and I haven't been with a man that way in almost six months."

"Try almost two years." I said hooking my thumb to my chest. Frankie looked at me questioningly. "My wife passed away over a year ago, and with the illness she suffered before her death, it adds up to that much."

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear about your wife." Frankie sounded sympathetic. "But I'll turn your comment back on you. You're a good looking guy. Your chest and stomach are still pretty firm. I'm sure you can find a woman any time you want."

"Thanks for the compliment. I'm desperate enough to believe you mean it. But even if I still could attract a woman, I think my job kind of keeps me sheltered from the right kind."

"'The right kind?' What are you? A prison guard or something?" Frankie joked.

"No. Not that kind of 'right kind'. I meant available women my own age. I'm a chemistry professor."

"That must be why we have such good chemistry," Frankie rejoined. I couldn't tell if it was strictly a joke or based in truth. Our eyes locked while I struggled for the appropriate witty reply that would bring us closer to fulfilling both of our needs.

Finally, I said simply, "Yeah, maybe so." Lame, Carl. Lame.

If Frankie found it lame, she didn't let on. "Seriously, a chemistry professor? You must be like a genius or something."

"No. I'm no genius," I assured her. "I just worked hard... And for a long time." I thought that a woman like Frankie might be awed by a genius, but she would know and respect the value of hard work first hand.

"I think it's more than hard work. I've got a smarty here." Frankie mussed my hair and took a solid swig of her champagne. "If you're a professor, you must be surrounded pretty little coeds swooning over their genius teacher."

"No. No swooning going on. See. I told you I wasn't a genius." We both laughed. "Really, even if some of them were crazy enough to be interested in me, I just find it almost impossible to be attracted to young women my daughter's age or younger."

"Oh. I know exactly what you mean there." Frankie stated with assurance. "My oldest boy is 25, and sometimes I have a really hard time trying to get all sexy with the kids that come in here."

We chatted like old friends through several songs, and ordered and finished another drink each. Along the way Frankie threw her legs over mine, half sitting in my lap. We had our arms around each other while we talked. I felt like I was on an actual date that was going very well. Finally, I knew that I had better act if I wanted a private dance with Frankie before she would need to go. As we finished our second drink, I said, "I'm really having a great time here, Frankie. But I'd also like to have a private dance with you."

"I'm more than ready if you are, Professor."

Frankie led me by the hand to the private dance area. She had me sit in the single couch that was back there. "Slide down here and get comfortable," she said pulling my legs until my rear was on the very edge of the couch.

"Do I give you the tickets before or after the dance?" I asked.

"You can go ahead and give it to me now." I slipped her both tickets I had bought. She held one in each hand and asked, "Two?"

"Yeah, I figure I'll want at least two dances with you." Frankie sat on my lap and laid her head on my shoulder.

"We'll just wait for this song to end to start." I put my arm around her and thought I hope this song is a long one. "Once I start the dance, the rule back here is no touching. It's probably best if you keep your hands beside you on the sofa." While said this, she was unbuttoning the buttons on my shirt. I won't complain about the double standard I thought.

"I'll be a good boy. I may have to sit on my hands to do it, but I'll be good." I assured Frankie. She laughed and got up as the song ended. As soon as the next song started Frankie started swaying to the music and gently rubbed her hands up and down her body. She was standing between my legs, bumping the couch. I smiled a big smile that I hoped conveyed warmth and happiness, not the primal lust I was feeling. Soon, she slowly reached behind her and undid the bow on her bikini top. She took the loosened strings in her hands and rubbed the top back and forth across her breasts and nipples, finally pulling it above her head. The action and slightly aroused her nipples. I smiled wider and a bulge began to grow in my pants. I split my gaze between drinking in the beauty of her spectacular melons and her hypnotic eyes.