I headed out of town this week to meet with a business associate. When I checked into the hotel, I asked the clerk for some recommendations for a place that served good steaks. The young guy working the desk said that the only place in town he ever went for steaks was just up the road, about a two minute drive. He said that the steaks were seasoned perfectly and the drinks were always well-mixed. It sounded good to me so he quickly gave me directions, and I headed up to my room to drop off my things and change.
I pulled up to Pistol Pete's and was impressed to see the full parking lot...a good sign that more than just the hotel clerk enjoyed the food. When I opened the restaurant door, I was surprised by the maitre' d. I'm used to seeing young gals as hostesses or older well-groomed men. This maitre' d was in his thirties, long hair and beard, barrel-chested, and his sleeveless T revealed two massive arms covered in tattoos. I was taken aback, but again, the place was packed. To me, that meant the food had to be great.
I told Muscle Man that I just needed a table for one, he asked if I wanted a table down front or secluded. I had no idea what that meant, so I told him I'd leave it up to him. He smiled and showed me to a table along the wall, but not too secluded, about half-way into the restaurant. I sat down and waited for my server.
Lisa was another surprise. My waitress was wearing a tight white tank top, slit at the neck to reveal her full tits and purple bra, a short frilly black skirt, and at the bottom of her long, long legs, she wore spiky black patent leather shoes. She brought me a menu, and I ordered a Manhattan. The quick spin she made as she turned to leave caused the skirt to flare out and up, revealing a tiny pink thong.
As I waited for my drink, I looked around, finally looking at the restaurant and the other patrons. It was only at that moment when I realized that I was the only female diner. The only other women were servers or working the bar. And "down front" there appeared to be a stage, or really, three stages. With poles.
Oh my god. I was in a strip club! That explained the maitre' d...or should I say, bouncer. And the attire of the server? Just a teaser for the show to come. Pistol Pete's wasn't a good ole' fashioned steakhouse; it was a gentleman's club. And there I sat.
When Lisa brought my drink, I quickly downed it and ordered another. I still wasn't sure if I was going to stay, but if I was going to leave, I was going to need lots of alcohol to walk past all those men.
See, I may be bi-sexual, but I've never in my life been to a strip club. I always picture the smokey atmosphere and the loud music and the men slobbering as they slide their money into the g-strings of the strippers. To me, there just never seemed anything sexy about that type of place.
As I was contemplating leaving, I smelled the wonderful smell of great steaks sizzling in the kitchen. I love steak, and I only eat it once in a blue moon. The smell convinced me to stay. It was just dinner. I didn't have to partake in the show. I ordered my steak and baked potato, and slowly sipped my second drink. I pulled out my book (I know; I'm that nerd who carries a book, especially when dining alone). I was thankful for that book last night; I didn't have to acknowledge the room full of men staring at me.
When Lisa brought my meal, she said I should eat fast, that the show would be starting soon. She meant to eat fast so I wouldn't miss a bit of it. I wanted to eat fast so that I could get out of there. But again, I love steak. I was going to savor every bite, and just ignore my surroundings.
When the music started getting a heavier beat, when it got louder, when the lights dimmed..that's when I knew the show was about to start. And I still hadn't finished my meal.
I sat there expecting the worse: some cheesy dance moves by some unattractive women and men hootin' and hollerin' ... and that's not at all what I saw.
Instead, I saw a beautiful, graceful woman dancing on stage. Her dancing wasn't sleazy or cheesy, it was very artistic. The men in the club seemed to be respectful. I was impressed and intrigued. I forgot about what was left of my steak, and I stared at that stage. I was mesmerized by her beauty, by her movements. She seemed to be dancing for herself, as if she forgot there was a room full of people watching her.
Her song ended much too soon for me. She left the stage and three women came out, each taking a stage and swinging and spinning and climbing their respective poles. They were still good, but the first dancer was still on my mind. I went back to eating my cooling steak and cold potato, and I went back to reading my book as I ate.
Lisa came back through and said she'd bring me another drink. I went back to reading and realized someone was standing beside me. I looked up to see the first dancer standing there.
"Come for the dinner or for the show?"
"Erm, came for the dinner. But I really enjoyed your show. Very well done."
She asked if she could have a seat, and I said sure. I didn't know the protocol, but who was I to turn down a beautiful woman. Lisa cleared my plate and I bought my new friend, Trichelle, a drink. She was touching my arm, then my leg, her eyes flirting with me just as much as her body was.
I told her how beautiful she was, and the alcohol in me told her how nice her tits were. She thanked me, as her hand reached out and brushed my own full tits. I was a bit embarrassed by my comment, but pleased by her reaction to it. I wished she were still in only her g-string, barely covering her pussy, showing off her great bare tits.
We chatted about things as I tried to not think about her body concealed beneath her black skin-tight dress. Then she mentioned it....
"You know, I give table dances. $20 per song. Would you like me to dance for you?"
Before I even answered, she was up. A new song had started and she was dancing in front of me, beside me, for me. I felt a tingling sensation building between my legs as I watched her body move. A bit self-aware, I took my eyes off of her and looked around the room and saw a few guys watching us.
When the song ended, I fumbled for my purse on the floor. "That's enough. Thank you." I laid the $20 bill on the table.
"I thought you were enjoying our time together. You didn't like the dance?"
I did like the dance! A lot. I just said that one was fine, that she had others watching us. I think she knew that I meant I was being watched, and that I didn't like the attention.
"Come with me." She took my hand, and a I grabbed my purse and followed. She led me to the VIP room, a much more private location. There was another woman giving a lap dance to a fellow, but other than that the rooms was ours.
"Bottle service is recommended in here, but we usually waive that for ladies. Would you like a bottle of something, or shall I just dance?"
I was now sitting on the long velvet bench, and she was straddling me. "Dance...," I whispered.
She reached down, and pulled up her dress, revealing first a different g-string, a purple one now instead of the pink from her stage dance. Next her flat stomach, and then there they were, her glorious tits, right in front of my face. Her pussy was grinding against my own, her hands on the back of the bench. Gyrating, grinding, her tits right there. How I wanted to suck on her tits, lick her nipples bury my face between them.
The other couple in the room left. Well, were forced to leave. It seems that he had been touching a bit aggressively, getting angry with her. The big guy from the front had come and escorted him out. I didn't mind. We were alone now, and I was less self-aware, totally focused on her.
She leaned in and nuzzled my neck. "You can touch me now, if you'd like. I won't mind. I always let the ladies touch, if they're hot enough."
She stuck her tits in my face, shook them around, her hands now on my tits. Her grinding was harder, her tiny g-string climbing up into her with each movement. Her bald lips were clearly visible now. She leaned back, way back. Her thighs clamped around my legs. She was leaning back, still gyrating, still grinding me, only now I could see her even better. Her hard clit was bulging against the purple triangle of silk.
As she sat up again, her hands slid up my legs, under my short skirt. "May I?" She was already rubbing my pussy as she asked.
"Please ...." Her other hand unbuttoned the top of my blouse revealing my cleavage, my black bra. She buried her face in my cleavage. I heard someone enter, but I never looked up. I didn't care who saw me now.
"May I?" I asked, using the same desirous tone she had used. She knew what I meant. She stuck her tits back in front of my face and I began to lick first her left tit, then the right. Her long nipples were hard. I sucked one in, my teeth nibbling, biting. She moaned. Her hands were hiking my skirt all the way up. I moved so that my ass was uncovered except for my red bikini panties. Her pussy, my pussy ... grinding hard and fast now. She stood up then, just before I was about to cum. I thought the dance was over.
It was. Well, the dancing at least. But now she was kneeling in front of me, her hands spreading my legs, her mouth headed toward my pussy. She pulled back my panties, and her tongue plunged right in. I couldn't believe it. I came to the "restaurant" to eat a nice dinner. Instead, a stranger, a beautiful dancer, was eating me. It was the best feeling, so erotic.
I slid down, my ass on the edge of the bench, her tongue on my clit,three fingers fucking me. My head tossed back, I bit my lip...I was cumming. I moaned out, I thrust my pussy against her face. I came seated on that velvet bench where so many others had sat. But I don't think a bit of cum landed on it. Her tongue and lips worked so fast, licking and sucking it all up.
She stood and kissed me, fully on the mouth. Her tongue slipped inside and I tasted my sweet juices.She stood up and slipped back into her dress.
I heard someone clapping then. I turned and looked to my left. There sat the hotel clerk who had recommended the place getting a lap dance of his own. "Thought I might find you here, but didn't think I'd find you in here. Pretty amazing."
"Yes, it was. Yes, she was, is." I smiled then, not caring who had seen us or who had just seen me cum.
I ended up staying in town an extra night. It was Trichelle's night off. She came to my hotel room where I gave HER a lap dance. And oral pleasure. And fun with a strap-on.
And when we were done, we called down to the front desk and demanded some room service. From him personally. He kindly obliged, letting himself in with the master key. Trichelle and I never even flinched when he jumped on the bed and plunged into the first hole he found...my ass.
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Submitted by:
Paige
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