tagHumor & SatireI'm in Love with a Stripper

I'm in Love with a Stripper

byOzzyDaBum©

This story is told from a perspective of a young guy who recently turned eighteen. This has been made purely for satire purpose and syntax, tone, and storytelling elements are used the way they are for that exact purpose. Basically, this is the story an eighteen-year-old me would tell people, with some elements being true and some being fully exaggerated. Feedback (of any kind) is greatly appreciated.

*

What the hell am I doing here?

Why did I come here, this is not a place for me!

How did I ever convince myself to come here?

The night was almost over and my shift was coming to a close. It's strange to remember that two months ago I had to plead with my parents for some spare cash for food and other junk. It's even harder to imagine that as of four days ago I was allowed to buy cigarettes and lotto, not to mention going to the place that had me tantalized for years. I'm sure I'm not the only kid.....excuse me, young adult, that wanted to go to a strip club.

The appeal has certainly gone down due to "the almighty" internet being available, providing porn by the barrelful, and the "No touch" policy that I so heard about. The only other factor was money, but that hasn't been a problem since I got a job as a delivery boy for a decent size restaurant.

This gig has fallen out of nowhere, and I picked it up, although with some difficulty, fairly quickly and the money started pouring. Looking back now, making minimum wage didn't seem so bad when I was working in my step-fathers office, but this was just amazing compared to sitting in an office nine to five making telemarketing calls trying to sell junk to people.

Eighteen bucks an hour, my own schedule, driving around blasting Metallica wile all I had to do was delivery food to anyone crazy enough to want a pizza at two in the morning. Great gig like I said, and with a few fine tunings I had it under my belt. The stories that I got from that job are going to last me for a lifetime, but that's for another day.

I had the thought for a while, but this was the night to make my long-time dream realized. The strange part is that I've been in a strip club before. Sometimes the girls or the manager himself order from my restaurant and because they are located across the street from us, it makes for an easy "run". Run being a sequence of deliveries that the driver makes and in which order.

Yes I've been inside many times, even before I turned eighteen and once I decided to stick around after I made my drop. This however wasn't a good experience, as I learned that forty bucks doesn't go a long way in a strip club. I'm not going to count that as my first strip club experience as there was really nothing to experience; I came in sat down for few minutes and the money I made that night I saved for a new set of strings rather than tipping the girls (which I didn't know you were required to do if you sat at the pool). Needless to say I wanted a real strip club experience. The same situation happened with my first run in with sex, but that will be another story.

I had about two hundred bucks on top of twenty in singles which I so meticulously aligned in "tip" portion of my wallet. I had my valid license and most importantly I had my leather jacket, skinny jeans and old pair of vans.

I couldn't look anymore like I kid as I did at that moment, to top it off I had a buttoned up collar shirt with the neck very loosely unbuttoned going for that straight out douchebag look. I thought that I looked mature and I thought I would fit in fine among the adult atmosphere, plus the leather jacket gave me strange boost of confidence.

I finished my report, clocked out at two in the morning, and I was ready to head out. The stench of "axe" and breath mints lingered in my nose. Tired but exited I drove towards "the Body Shop" to finally feel for myself what a strip club really was.

I heard stories about this place. One of the drivers mentioned his experience. He got a dance with a tall man-ish Russian girl who had a "signature" move of what I could make out as pile driving your face into her ass.

Erotic to some but seemed a bit too rough for me, at least for now. I broke my nose a few times and though that would be a fun story to tell, I would have to pass.

I didn't help that I was passing by this place almost every other day on my runs. Still living with my parents, my new job gave me another bonus, as now I had an alibi as to where I was at four in the morning. Not many people have that excuse, but I tend to overthink those kinds of details.

I had it all planed and this was the night to see my plans turn into actions.

It was a Friday night so many drunks were hanging around the entrance, no doubt guys who struck out and in their inebriated state wanted "to see some tittles!" I don't judge, I had many experiences striking out with pretty much every girl in the club. Hell, the club is not where I belong, but being drunk and horny sure does help. But again, that is another story.

I bravely storm the entrance and the bouncer asks for my id. I proudly present it and smile when he begins to compare the pictures. Seems like a very dorky move looking back, buy I probably not going to see him ever again so it didn't matter.

He smirks to himself and directs me to the cashier. Yes! Step one: complete!

The woman behind the register takes the same weird look and asks me for ten for entry. I give her a twenty and ask for some singles. She gives me a great stack of old singles bound by one paperclip.

The second bouncer pulls the curtain and lets me. I step into the dim lit room and I'm ready to experience the dream.

The room was packed, there were people filling almost every corner of the club. The music was blasting some generic bass beat and the lighting made it hard to navigate but I wasn't there for those reasons. Going to a strip club for the DJ is like going to McDonalds for a salad.

Both stages had girls, topless and just like the ads described them. And I quote "time to see some titties!" Yes, I truly had no class or etiquette dealing with naked women.

I take a seat at the poolside of the first stage prepare my singles. The girl on the stage was in the middle of her routine as only half of her outfit was gone. Considering that their outfits consists of the heels that never come off and two other articles of clothing.

She was rather tall, or not, I couldn't tell at the time between real height and six inch heels. Come to think of it, why do I care how tall she is?

Her body was lean and agile as she slid up and down that pole with ease, but again I could just be naïve in my first firsthand look at a real stripper. Again, why do I care, she's naked!

Not enough breasts. A cup, for a title like "Body Shop" seemed kind of obscure. Awh, I wanna see big titties! I don't have to think too mature about that, plus I doubt I can make an intelligent argument to get a girl with a bigger bust.

As I was making my mental marks her g string came down to her knees. Forget I said anything about boobs!

My eyes widened and at an instant smile arouse even though I tried to hide it. Pussy was shaved clean, and her lips were enticing me as I haven't seen enough of the female anatomy up-close, and the internet is no substitution.

She spread her legs and I got an even better look. I was getting exited already, it wasn't that hard to excite me, but it seemed rather too quick. I tried to calm down and look smooth and not as some horny teenager after that point (even though I was just that).

It seemed very short lived, but I ran out of singles as few other equally gorgeous girls came and went. I had to get up and leave the poolside and seek a place to observe the girls else were.

This was around the same time the severity of the situation started to settle in. There really isn't much to do after the money is gone, a lot like in real life.

With no more singles and no spot in the pool, the sight of naked girls has begun to be distracted and then despoiled by ugly drunk guys, the scary bouncers, and the terrible club beat music.

I was desperately looking around for a girl to take for a private dance, but it in that odd instance, there were no girls coming to harass me for a private dance.

I sat at the table with the chair turned away to face the stage and the situation has fully sunk in. On the outside I tried to have control and appear cool and confident, but inside I started to feel that this is not a place for me either. And that's when the thoughts settled in.

What the hell am I doing here?

Why did I come here this is not a place for me!

How did I ever convince myself to come here?

The lustful atmosphere has begun to pull me hard but this time my nerves were pulled along and stress came shortly after. Yeah they're naked, but so what?

Just as I was thinking to leave, a miracle happens!

An angel in a red g string comes out of nowhere. Yes I realize how cheesy that sounds.

I look up, then down, then up again fully observing her essence into my view. I wish I had a cool line to describe her, something like "her g sting was red like the passion hot of a thousand suns!" or some kind of poetic line like that. Instead I'm just going to say "She was fuckin' hot!"

She saw the look and like a true pro, didn't spare a moment to approach and seal the deal. Our eyes meet as she stood in front of me in mere seconds but she didn't stop there. She came even closer parting my legs and getting real up-close and personal.

I was surprised by her warm "hospitality"; I had a clue that strippers will do almost anything to pull you in for a private dance, but even this seemed too much, even for the time and place.

Still I did not let it cloud my judgment. I wanted to come once, see it once and leave once not to comeback. I heard stories of people throwing their money down the well and claiming to be "in love" with their strippers. But these were just after-toughs, because I was lonely, and very horny, and she came at just the right time.

She made the girls performing on the stage seem like trash. Ok that's a little mean, the other girls were good....ok, average at best, but she seemed like the best this place could offer.

She stood at maybe five nine with heels. Well, it matters to me; I'm a rather tall dude.

She was a natural golden blonde, with wavy flowing hair, about a b cup, again a bit contradictory to the name of the place but whatever.

She had a nice classy looking red bra and a matching g string which complimented her milky skin and fiery lips, but her best feature by the most contrasting way was her face.

No it wasn't tired dead-eyes expression that the other girls had. She wasn't drugged out and she didn't have that fake smile that only lusted after money. For whatever reason she seemed out of place for this environment, a lot like me, but unlike me acted like she was right at home.

Her face said European, which I could tell right away as I was Russian myself. A little bit of a coincidence I would say.

"Hi honey, how you are?" she started to flirt.

Weird enough, as much as it sounds like a typical stripper line, her accent and soft cute tone made it surprisingly special, but my skepticism kept my mind at a sharp doubt and it kept me on guard.

"I'm Elena" she continued

"I'm John" I roughly blurred out. As far as you know anyways.

"Nice to meet you babe" she answered me.

Again, her words, even though completely scripted, seemed so real. Maybe she has gotten so good at her job that it even sound convincing, or maybe I'm just that naïve when it comes to strippers.

I didn't care about the truth, nor should I. I came to places that enforce a sweet lie of women coming to you.

"Russian?" I roughly ask her.

"Yeah" she answers me in her spunky tone.

We then switch to Russian. For the sake of the story I'm going to roughly translate in English but we spoke both languages in some alteration.

"Russian! Me too, ha nice" my interest in her arouse even more. It felt a little more personal.

"Oh wow, from where?" She responded.

"Oh, I'm from such and such," I respond in a rather forced manner.

"Oh ok, well I'm originally from such and such myself" she responded in her spunky mode.

The dialog seemed extremely awkward but due to the place I knew that there was no chance of me striking out, after all I did pay my entry fee. That gave me some confidence.

"Would you like to get a dance?" she asked me kindly.

I knew it eventually would come down to this, and I was ready with open arms, but I wanted to appear cool and confident.

"Sure, let's go" I tried to sound charming. Sure I laugh now, but at the time I felt like I was Brad Pit or something. I don't know, do girls still go wet over Pit? I don't keep up with pop culture.

She grabbed my hand slowly led me to the back section of the club. On the way I saw many other guys who were in the same situation as I was a minute ago, standing against the wall waiting for their girl to come. Ha! What losers!

It felt pretty damn good, like buying your first car, and driving it off the lot. Except it wasn't a car, and I wasn't really taking her home, so it's more like renting a car...hell, I'm overthinking this.

She led me to the back and showed me the other room.

It was a separate room filled with cubical like stalls surrounded by mirrors. There were also two separate little rooms covered by a curtain. Some of the stalls were occupied, but it was hard to see what was going on in there, I guess that was the point.

"Ok, pick anywhere you like." She told me.

I looked around with concern. This wasn't really what I had in mind. I was a bit flustered trying to make a quick decision.

She then leaned in closer and whispered into my ear. "Let's go to the other room"

"I don't think I have enough..." she stopped me in mid sentence by placing her finger on my lips.

"Let's go to the back room" she repeated with a more provocative tone. "Don't worry honey, I'm gonna take care of you."

I wanted to object because I really didn't have enough money, but I couldn't say "No" to such a gorgeous girl. Plus, I never heard a girl tell me, she's "gonna take care of me".

I didn't have a clue why she wanted me in the back. I was going to pay her either way, even if is not that much by strip club standards. She left me in front of the curtain and went to talk to the other cashier at the booth that I saw at the entrance to the back room.

She came back quickly with a much exited smile. She then opened the curtain and pulled me in.

It was actually much taller and roomier then I expected. They managed to fit a fairly huge leather club chair inside this little room. The music seemed much calmer inside as the bass wasn't slipping through the wall as much.

I humbly walked in and to my surprise she gently pushes me into the chair, still retaining that very playful matter. I was pleasantly surprised at her enthusiasm.

"Don't worry honey, I'm gonna take good care of you" she said now with my more dominance in her cute tone which was starting to become less soft and more sexual.

Damn!

Rarely can one word describe what I felt at that point.

"Damn!" this time out loud. She smirked at my childish approach.

She then reached back and unhooked her bra and tossed it to the corner. Hooray! Time to see her boobs!

I got to see her breast hang free and it did not disappoint. Firm and spunky, a lot like her, natural and seductive just like I started to believe she was. Stripper being human, absurd right!

Next came down her g string. Again, her kitty was well shaved. I felt my eyes staring but I didn't care, that's what I was her for. That's what she's here for.

She tossed it aside and started to mount me. I was halfway lying down as the chair was quite large and there were no arms, but it seemed that they were folded down rather then not been there at all. I had to keep my hands on my knees because I didn't want to ruin this situation.

She was on top of me. A naked girl on my lap, and it seemed that I was already hard from the first few seconds.

She then started to unbutton my jeans. I was bit concerned, my wallet was there. That fear was dispersed when she pulled out my belt from my jeans. The rhythm of the music came into play and she was giving me a lap dance. My hands were now loosely placed on the chair. She grabbed my hands and put them on her tits and started to rub them. Well, that's nice.

I got to feel her breasts and they felt even better then imagine. Just enough to grab and play with but not too huge to be hard to handle! I played with her breast and she was grinding on me. We were both getting in the groove and it felt great, but the fun didn't stop there.

She backs off and reaches into my jeans and into my underwear. I jerk forward feeling her hand down my pants. She then grabs my dick and starts to play with my already hard thing.

"Oh my! You're already exited!" she says with such enthusiasm. Honey, I was exited before you even got on top of me.

I couldn't say anything. I was expecting some contact but she just reached into my pants without any shame. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed every second of it but the surprise caught me off guard.

She then pulls it up and unzips my jeans so my dick, still bound by my boxers, could peek out.

She then aligns herself and started to rub against and then just straight out grind on my dick. The only thing that kept it from being full contact was that small layer of fabric.

The fun didn't stop there as she skillfully unbuttoned my shirt. While she was doing that my hands kept exploring her body. I'm paying by the minute so might as well enjoy wile I still can.

I played with her nipple and then proceeded to suck on them. She only seemed more turned on by this and started to grind faster. Adding small nibbling was a plus.

My hand then got on her ass and I started to sway it along with her movements.

"Spank me honey!" she yelled out. Damn! That is not the reaction I expected.

First a soft spank. She yelled "Harder!" I do it again with more force but I'm still afraid of hitting too hard.

She yells again "Harder!"

Turned on by her words I smack her left cheek pretty damn hard. She only lets out a bigger "yeah!"

She didn't leave me out as she was moving her arms on my chest and feeling me up almost as much as I did her. Maybe more? Nah, probably not.

My hand slowly made its way down to her pussy, down the abdomen and past her clitoris. She slowed down her movement and lifted herself up as I began to pet her kitty. That also got a different result than I expected. It's not like I had a particular plan of action, but it threw me off.

She closed her eyes and started to rub against my hand by her own will. I didn't let up and kept rubbing her cunt. I aligned my thumb and started to play with her clit. For some reason I wanted to call it "her button" due to past experience, but again that's another story.

By the sounds of pleasant "oh's" I was encouraged to keep going. My middle finger then attempted to penetrate her. There was a small nudge of discomfort on her face as I slid my finger in her but she allowed me to keep going. Ha, "no touch" policy my ass!

She started to get even louder and I tried to slip another finger in. she seems to really enjoy it.

She was now pushing herself into my two fingers. I wanted to add another one to the mix but that just seemed out of place. I don't know, what's left of my morality told me not to do it.

She began to moan loader, and use and less "stripper terms" like "yes baby". While my right hand was doing that my left continued to play with her breast and pinch her nipple. Even though her nipple was rock-hard I still kept playing with it.

Report Story

byOzzyDaBum© 0 comments/ 8154 views/ 1 favorites

Share the love

Report a Bug

Next
2 Pages:12

Forgot your password?

Please wait

Change picture

Your current user avatar, all sizes:

Default size User Picture  Medium size User Picture  Small size User Picture  Tiny size User Picture

You have a new user avatar waiting for moderation.

Select new user avatar:

   Cancel