Tales Of The Lap-Danced

"Were going to go back to my place and order some Chinese. You want to come?"

I liked the idea of going home with the two of them and I'm not sure exactly what stopped me from doing it. I didn't really need the job. I wasn't even sure that doing it would get me fired. But I just had a feeling that somehow it was a bad idea in the making. Somehow I managed to respectfully decline their offer.

I'd been gone from the club for a good many years and had lost touch with all of them, dancers, bartenders and the bouncers. It was probably for the best. There was always something going on in that place that was slightly suspect. It probably was only a matter of time until it ended up finding me and I ended up in trouble.

So it was several years later. A friend was getting married and it was his bachelor party I and another friend of mine were to plan. We checked the local places and managed to find a hot spot about an hour away. We rented a van, packed up a herd of revelers and well-wishers and headed off for the evening.

The place was decently swanky. As many of us had managed to procure not only college degrees but also jobs that required them in the past few years it wasn't the kind of place that was out of our league anymore. But the concept of that sort of money was still a little foreign to us. It was also a Saturday night and it was as busy as any other place I had seen.

The women were gorgeous and there were more than enough to go around. We set up camp at a table in the far corner from the entrance. Little did we know that this was the table that all dancers had to walk by in order to get to the private booths. The bachelor was having a good time. I'd pretty much ensured this by starting off the night by taking a collection from everyone and sending him on his way to the private dance area with a hot blonde and a fist full of cash. Everyone got the hint from there on in and made sure that there wasn't a moment that he wasn't occupied in some way or another. Additionally this gave me a decent chance to keep an eye out for someone so amazingly gorgeous that I would have to have a dance from them before the night was over.

There are essentially two types of strip clubs in this world. The difference is dancers actively seeking out clients for lap dances, tips, shots or drinks.

This was the only place that I'd seen both. Dancers had wandered by and struck up conversations with us and left without propositioning us even in the slightest. Other dancers weren't quite so subtle. I was saddled up to by one blonde that had come directly out of the private dance area and immediately to my side. She ran a hand under my shirt and tried to "convince" me that I needed a lap dance from her. It took a little more than a polite decline but she seemed to brush it off like she'd had worse rejections that night.

It took us a decent hour to figure out the format of the place. Dancing on the stage wasn't really all that much for tipping but seeing the dancers better. The lap dance was the big thing. There were some topless dances that occurred in small hovels around the place that were generally out in the open. For what would be the price of a lap dance in most places the women would get topless and give an almost teasing preview of what would go on in the private dance area.

Throughout the night you could tell who was being taken by these and who wasn't. The big dopey grin and bewilderment of an empty wallet was a sure sign. Sure they were getting what they'd paid for. But in a sense it was only a preview. We'd sent the bachelor in for the full treatment a few times and it wasn't long until the curiosity was getting to me.

A very exotic looking brunette had caught my eye earlier in the night. She wasn't drop dead gorgeous but she had these wonderful tan lines and a killer smile. I'm always a sucker for a smile. Her breasts were pert but barely a handful. And she had this long brown hair that went halfway down her back that I was just dying to feel against my skin.

I managed to get her attention her as she was finishing up a couch dance with another client. She put her clothes on and I approached her in the entryway. I asked her how much a private dance was.

"One hundred....uh...thirty" she said with a bit of an accent.

"And what do I get"

"You get me for fifteen minutes in the private dance area alone and a bottle of champagne."

All in all the cash was much more than I'd really expected. I hemmed and hawed for a second hoping that it would bring the price down ten bucks or so. I was foolish to think that a woman that gorgeous wouldn't find someone else's money to take. She looked at me slightly annoyed before I bagged my bluff.

"Okay...let's do it."

She grabbed my arm and hauled me across the club to a cash register. Once there she had me ante up the money and the cashier assigned us a booth. We made our way to the booth with her holding onto my arm. She pushed open one side of the saloon-style doors to the booth and motioned for me to enter. Once inside I immediately sat down in the oversized faux-leather chair against the back wall. I had to. There was barely room for one person to stand never mind two.

She introduced herself as "Rio". I had the usual lack of tact to ask about her accent and she politely replied that she was from Brazil and was working to put herself through college. I filed both little factoids under "probably bullshit" as we made more idle chitchat until the "champagne" arrived. The waitress was nice enough to unscrew the top of it for me and soon departed.

Rio got started pretty quickly. In an instant she had shed her day-glow half-shirt, thong panties and had also kicked off her shoes. She started in my lap with the usual fare. Since I was unfamiliar with the venue I played it slow. It wasn't long before I had a nipple in my mouth and my hand on her other breast. She ground her pussy against my leg and her thigh against my cock as she pushed closer to me. She put her fingers through my hair and whispered something to me in her native tongue. For all I knew it could of been her grocery list which she was orating to me. But with the accent and the fervor I was putty in her hands.

Rio got up and turned around. She pushed my legs apart and planter herself into my lap, grinding her pussy into my crotch in aggressive little circles. She leaned back and took my hands in hers, guiding them to her breasts. I ran a hand across her thigh and up to her stomach. She reached back and touched my now hard member sequestered in the small of her back with her hand, and gave it a little rub. She ran her hand down my leg and stood up again.

She straddled me and my hands instantly went to her hips. She backed away and pushed her torso against mine. She slowly slid down onto her haunches and laid her head on my thigh. With one hand she gently brushed my raging hard on and with the other she wormed her way up my shirt and gave one of my nipples a squeeze. Her tongue snaked out and I could feel it against my pants, arousing me even further.

She stood up and leaned into me. Her pubic mound was pressing against my crotch and I leaned forward to give one of her nipples a quick lick. She took my hands and placed them on her hips instructing me to guide her. Slowly she slid down as my hands pushed and pulled in the motions that brought waves of pleasure over my body.

I leaned my head back and let it all go. She rested her hands on my arms as I could feel my semen welling up inside me. I looked down in time to see her line of sight solely concentrated on my crotch. Her breasts rested just above my thigh as she pushed one last time and I came. She smiled and gave my slowly diminishing member a gentle rub.

She climbed up into my lap and curled up. We talked for a minute and I told her what amazing tan lines she had. She giggled and told me how she loved the beach and how she missed the ones at home. A minute or so later she looked at her watch and announced that the fifteen minutes was up. While she was dressing I checked my own watch and realized it had only been eleven. But what was I going to protest about. I had gotten more than I had expected and she was at least polite about it.

Someone else that night had a lap dance from Rio after me and commented on how good it was on the drive home. I couldn't help but wonder how many guys were returning home in need of clean shorts that night because of her.

In retrospect I realized Rio had quite a racket going, as probably did the club itself. It was a generous chunk of change but while it did offer the "release" it explicitly made no mention of it. It was brilliant in its implementation and ability to offer a service just not available in most clubs but also do so coyly.

The thing about slow declines into debauchery is that eventually you're likely to find yourself in a place you never thought you would ever be or engaged in an act you know you shouldn't be doing. If you become involved in the pursuit of one thing for long enough eventually you will find you have crossed over a line you had clearly defined in your mind as what is the divider between acceptable and unacceptable.

And there's is no other city in the world that could of happened in but Montréal.

I guess, if I have to look back on it, I was really ratcheting things up for the trip. It was a small group of people and I had clearly done my homework. When you start gearing up with information and knowing what different clubs in a city like Montreal will and will not offer then you can make the argument that you're very much looking to place yourself in harms way.

And on one weekend in July we looked to do almost exactly that.

Some time around eleven at our third club I wondered if the information I'd had was correct. The first two spots we'd hit were more along the lines of Gentlemen's Clubs, which are nice. But it was almost an unspoken thing at this point in time that we were looking to be not quite gentlemanly.

We wound out the night at the clubs with minor disappointment. The recent crackdowns by the police couldn't of happened at a worse time. No-contact dances were being enforced and for some reason the venues were jam-packed. On the way home we lost one of the group to a massage parlor. It seemed seedy, but considering why were here and what we came for almost seemed halfway reasonable.

The second night we plotted out a "can't miss" location on the far side of town. When we came through the door we realized that if seediness was likely to lead to less-than on the level lap dances then this was the place. We took our seats and enjoyed bad drinks with reasonably attractive dancers.

The night wore on and with Montréal's average cost of dance being as cheap as it is coupled with the exchange rate I seemed to not be able to go through money fast enough. Every time I checked my bankroll it seemed fatter than the last time. As I kept drinking it became a haze of indiscernible flesh, bad conversations and shenanigans with buying dances for other members of the group.

Some time around one AM it was decided. The night needed to come to an end or move someplace else. Feeling like I needed to complete my collection of lap dances from all the strippers working that night like they were baseball cards I approached one that I'd had my eye on. She was dressed in dominatrix-style garb and had been busy most of the night; so busy I'd barely seen her except when she was on stage.

I approached her and asked for a lap dance. She smiled at me and winked. She was older than the others, maybe mid-thirties. Her skin was almost glowing it was so white. Decked out in straps of leather and PVC with a police-styled hat and heels so big she towered over me she took me by the hand and led me into a booth.

The booths were small with a wooden chair facing out from the wall and a black semi-see through veil across the front of them. You could see in, but not really much more than shapes. She sat me down and introduced herself as she sat in my lap. I was feeling the effects of the alcohol, but not so much that I couldn't sense an air of self-confidence about her I'd never seen in a booth before.

She leaned over and whispered in my ear.

"I've been so horny tonight I can't wait to go home and have my boyfriend fuck me until I'm sore."

Somehow I managed to retort with "If there's anything I can help you with now...."

She replied, "No, let me take care of you."

When the dance started she managed open and make available her ample breasts through her outfit. She simply managed to snap something away and there they were. Her dancing was more sensual and I tried not to let the pure animalistic frustration from having hour after hour of lap dance that had built up in me boil over.

The first song ended and she asked me if I wanted another. If a lap dance is not up to my expectations I'm usually likely to cut my losses. But what was strange was that it wasn't that she wasn't good, but she was different. I nodded enough in my state to indicate that I wanted her to keep going. She reached down and rubbed my crotch with her gloved hand and lamented at how tough it is for anyone to sleep in that condition.

She continued where she left off, movements slow and deliberate, more artistic than teasing but with enough of a payoff to keep me wanting more. She would put her hands on my face and slowly pull her breasts towards my lips and slide her body down them. It was minimal contact, but in the right places. She put her cheek against mine and moaned. She stood in front of me and squatted down, her face inches from my exposed kneecap from my shorts. I gently felt her hand reach up the leg of my shorts towards my fully erect member. She gave it a little rub and removed her hand.

She turned around and presented her gorgeous ass at about my chest level. It was almost an awkward point to be in, her thong right in front of me with her doubled over so far that her palms had to be almost flat on the floor. I barely managed to notice that she wasn't really moving much either. With the situation being so awkward I gently caressed her ample curves, feeling how soft her skin was until I leaned forward and gently ran my cheek against hers. I gave a gentle kiss and felt her body reverberate like she was saying something.

I half realized at this time I'd crossed the line. No stripper wants to be slobbered on and I expected her abrupt turn towards me as indication that I had violated the rules. She straddled my lap and sat for a quick second before leaning forward.

"Do you mind if I unzip your pants?"

I was stunned. Too stunned to do anything but nod. She reached down between us and slowly and carefully unzipped my shorts which were adorned with a small stain. She parted my boxers and gave the base of my cock a squeeze while she moaned in my ear about how big it was and how good it would feel inside of her. Slowly her two hands came together over my lap and I felt the soft plastic of a condom roll over my manhood.

It was at this time that I was now, officially, well over a line I had set for myself. It was a split second later that I became conscious of her putting a condom over me. I sat still and dumbfounded as she leaned into me again.

"This will help you sleep tonight."

I felt her hand tighten and gently stroke me while I watched her other hand probe her pussy underneath her thong. She moaned and grunted into my ear while pleasuring the both of us. She spoke something in her native tongue and I felt my cock only grow harder. She leaned into me so that her collarbone was pushed up against my neck but turned so I could watch her. I couldn't even try to hold back and it wasn't long until the condom had been filled.

It was an interesting sensation. There were three factors involved, my desire to keep going, apparently her desire to keep going and my penis which had been left in the dust. She became more aggressive with her motions onto herself. I felt her cheek against mine and her breath deep against my ear and neck. She swallowed deeply and I felt her shiver slightly. As she caught her breath she let go of my cock.

The song ended and she leaned back into me. I was completely beside myself.

"Do you want another dance?" she asked.

"I uh....I think I'm done" I said with a bit of a grin.

I wasn't sure how many songs had passed and I figured that $60 Canadian was reasonable enough. If anything it was probably double what she would have gotten without the extras and it seemed reasonable. I zipped up, thanked her, and stumbled out of the booth towards the men's room. I managed to find an empty stall and removed the condom and dropped it into the toilet.

It had been a strange transition over a decade from not having any concept of what a lap dance involved to being on the receiving end of one as mind-blowing and interactive as they could get.