Originally posted by Baboy
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Well, I don't know if I should admit to this. I have already confessed on another thread to having succumbed to a polyamorous relationship. Should I also confess that I once dated a stripper? Okay, here goes. I'll refer to the young woman as "V".
First off, let me say that V was not a stripper when we met, and had not been one in the past. But she was very attractive - and she knew it - and had regular employment that was not particularly remunerative. She had heard about the money some strippers make and one night she came home (yes, we lived together for awhile) and said she thought she was as good or better looking than most girls in the trade and if they could do it, why not her? She wanted to know what I thought, but I could tell she was going to give it a go regardless of my opinion.
What came next is something outside the experience of most guys. While most have been to strip clubs, not many get dragged to every club in sight by their gfs. But that was my sorry lot! A dirty job, but someone had to do it. V set her course to visit as many clubs as she could over a couple of weeks to observe the girls in action and learn their moves, what was popular, etc. So almost every night, I dutifully accompanied her. I was conscripted and given no choice. I was called to pronounce upon the attributes of the young ladies under scrutiny. What did I think of various parts of their anatomy, their divers modes of dress, undress, makeup, hair, ability to pole dance, etc. It was horrible! What torture! Why did I put up with such abuse? A man can tolerate only so much naked female pulchritude before he rebels. The crap we take in the name of love!
So it came to pass, in the fulness of time, that V went out to work at a couple of those places. Some were so-called "bikini bars". Alcohol allowed; no real nudity. I was her shill. If no one else would throw money at her, I would, and conspicuously so. If no one else bought that lap dance, I would. All for show, to try to get other guys interested.
V also did brief stints at topless places and all-nude. Patti, you'd have loved those places! All the v-jays on display! Of course for me, it was a tough go, but I was undaunted by all those v-jays. I averted my eyes, of course.
The ultimate moment had to be at an all-nude club where guys who had no gorgeous v-jay at home could pay to get close to one. They could pay for a dance in what was called the "VIP Lounge" (many clubs use similar terminology) and have the girl pretty much climb all over them. But they were not permitted to touch! Hands had to remain firmly away from the girls.
As to that ultimate moment to which I alluded, it was this: V did not like a lot of the girls with whom she worked. No big surprise, they were competitors. But at the all-nude place, she befriended a young black woman who was also new to the business, and shy. V felt sorry for her, because she was not the best at promoting herself to the clientele and rarely got asked for lap dances, VIP dances. She wasn't making much money. So V, being a good sport, came to me and asked me to buy a couple of dances from this girl in the VIP Lounge. She even gave me the money, saying it was her idea and I should not have to pay. All I had to do was stare into this girl's v-jay when she stood astride me, while I was seated on a sofa, and 6 inches from my nose spread those black lips showing the pink rose beyond. She really was a lovely young woman and, even though I think she knew that V had something to do with her being recruited, and certainly knew it was with V's blessing, she gave me a couple of dances that showed real appreciation.
V was very successful in what was a rather brief stint as a stripper. She gave it up because she tired of guys trying to feel her and telling her stuff like "No, I won't pay you $20 for a lap dance, but I'll pay $400 to spend the night with you." It wore her down. She did not mind stripping, but did not want to consider prostitution. She returned to school and completed a business degree and became successful working for a large corporation. I doubt she put her strip club days on her resume. My time with her made me see strippers in a rather different light. I am not ashamed of my close association with one.
First off, let me say that V was not a stripper when we met, and had not been one in the past. But she was very attractive - and she knew it - and had regular employment that was not particularly remunerative. She had heard about the money some strippers make and one night she came home (yes, we lived together for awhile) and said she thought she was as good or better looking than most girls in the trade and if they could do it, why not her? She wanted to know what I thought, but I could tell she was going to give it a go regardless of my opinion.
What came next is something outside the experience of most guys. While most have been to strip clubs, not many get dragged to every club in sight by their gfs. But that was my sorry lot! A dirty job, but someone had to do it. V set her course to visit as many clubs as she could over a couple of weeks to observe the girls in action and learn their moves, what was popular, etc. So almost every night, I dutifully accompanied her. I was conscripted and given no choice. I was called to pronounce upon the attributes of the young ladies under scrutiny. What did I think of various parts of their anatomy, their divers modes of dress, undress, makeup, hair, ability to pole dance, etc. It was horrible! What torture! Why did I put up with such abuse? A man can tolerate only so much naked female pulchritude before he rebels. The crap we take in the name of love!

So it came to pass, in the fulness of time, that V went out to work at a couple of those places. Some were so-called "bikini bars". Alcohol allowed; no real nudity. I was her shill. If no one else would throw money at her, I would, and conspicuously so. If no one else bought that lap dance, I would. All for show, to try to get other guys interested.
V also did brief stints at topless places and all-nude. Patti, you'd have loved those places! All the v-jays on display! Of course for me, it was a tough go, but I was undaunted by all those v-jays. I averted my eyes, of course.
The ultimate moment had to be at an all-nude club where guys who had no gorgeous v-jay at home could pay to get close to one. They could pay for a dance in what was called the "VIP Lounge" (many clubs use similar terminology) and have the girl pretty much climb all over them. But they were not permitted to touch! Hands had to remain firmly away from the girls.
As to that ultimate moment to which I alluded, it was this: V did not like a lot of the girls with whom she worked. No big surprise, they were competitors. But at the all-nude place, she befriended a young black woman who was also new to the business, and shy. V felt sorry for her, because she was not the best at promoting herself to the clientele and rarely got asked for lap dances, VIP dances. She wasn't making much money. So V, being a good sport, came to me and asked me to buy a couple of dances from this girl in the VIP Lounge. She even gave me the money, saying it was her idea and I should not have to pay. All I had to do was stare into this girl's v-jay when she stood astride me, while I was seated on a sofa, and 6 inches from my nose spread those black lips showing the pink rose beyond. She really was a lovely young woman and, even though I think she knew that V had something to do with her being recruited, and certainly knew it was with V's blessing, she gave me a couple of dances that showed real appreciation.
V was very successful in what was a rather brief stint as a stripper. She gave it up because she tired of guys trying to feel her and telling her stuff like "No, I won't pay you $20 for a lap dance, but I'll pay $400 to spend the night with you." It wore her down. She did not mind stripping, but did not want to consider prostitution. She returned to school and completed a business degree and became successful working for a large corporation. I doubt she put her strip club days on her resume. My time with her made me see strippers in a rather different light. I am not ashamed of my close association with one.
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