What Happens in a Strip Club...

Like most people that enjoy a good tale of romance, I've read a fair number of erotic stories from the Internet that the authors claim to be true. Of course if some of these stories were actually true, it would mean that the entire world is made up large breasted bisexual women that are completely insatiable and handsome men with 9 inch penises running around fucking every man, woman or child they see. Also in this world every teen lusts after her father, mothers all want to teach their sons how to have sex, not a single person on earth has an old homely aunt, and semen tastes just like fruit juice. I am sorry, but this story that doesn't have any of that stuff in it. This is my true story.

I'm not much to look at. I'm not ugly but I'm not pretty either. Now that I am older I can admit that I'm a bit flabby. When I was younger I couldn't admit any of this, especially to myself. Now I can admit that I have always been shaped different than most girls, even when I was little. I'm not pear shaped or apple shaped. I'm still shaped like a woman. I just am not very toned. Back in high school a bunch of mean girls started calling me GT. It didn't take long before I found out that GT stood for granny tits. I hated that name so bad, but it was true. I got my breasts early, and by high school they were fairly large, but they weren't very firm. They hung down on me like an older woman's breasts.

Along with being shaped different in high school I was pretty awkward, so I didn't date. Let me rephrase that. I never got asked out. But at least in high school I got teased. After high school I just seemed to become invisible. My opportunities to date were less than zero. Men hardly ever looked at me let alone talked to me. I finally got tired of being alone and started forcing myself into social situations. It wasn't dating, but at least I was meeting people. Without doing this I am sure I never would have met my husband.

I met my husband at a renaissance festival and I thought he was the funniest person I had ever met. He and I were a lot alike. We were both socially awkward, and he also didn't have the greatest physique either. He was kind of flabby like me, which I thought would keep him from judging me. I didn't really know him but I kind of knew one of his nerdy friends. So I used that acquaintance to start hanging out with my future husband and his little band of geeks. He never would have noticed me had I not started hanging out with them, so I am glad I took the initiative. We got married three days after my twenty-fifth birthday, and after we got married we started gaining weight. We became a fat couple.

On my twenty-ninth birthday I decided that my husband and I were going to do something about our weight. So I turned to a man I had met who was a self-proclaimed health food and supplement expert for guidance. I got every book and read every label on how to eat healthy and lose weight. With the mix of healthy foods and supplements I actually lost a lot of weight, and my husband lost a good bit of his as well. By my thirtieth birthday I weighed even less than I did in high school. I looked pretty good except for those awful granny tits were back, but now they were even looser than before. I know he didn't mean any harm, but my husband made balloon animal jokes when played with them. It kind of hurt at the time, but the things he said were pretty funny, and it sure beat being called granny tits.

The very best part of my losing weight was that my new found knowledge landed me a job at a health food store. I liked this job. I enjoyed helping people and sharing my knowledge. It was nice that people needed me and I was finally the expert at something. When people were in the store I was no longer invisible. The only down side was that the store wasn't always busy and it had long periods when no customers would come in.

When the store was empty and I had all of the shelves restocked, there was simply nothing to do. At least there was some built in entertainment to watch out in the parking lot. You see this store shared a parking lot with a strip club. When the store was empty I would watch the strip club's customers come and go. There were all kinds of men going in and out of the place. Surprisingly some were even pretty good looking.

As I watched the men I would make up little stories in my head about their naughty exploits in the club. I'd never been in a strip club so I had no real idea what went on in there, but my stories were entertaining to me none the less. My husband hated the fact that I worked across from a strip club. He was afraid that horny men from the club were coming into the store and trying to talk me into having sex or something. I never told him about the little stories I made up about the strip club men. He would have come unglued.

As time went on I started to get more curious about what really went on inside that club. Seeing all those men come and go made me wonder. I wondered if any of my stories could really be true. One day the club put up a new sign that said 'no cover for women'. Hmmm, I thought; free is good. I spent the whole next week trying to decide if I should go check it out or not. I really wanted to go, but if my husband found out I'd be in trouble. That Friday I made a bold decision. After work I went over to the club and went in; all by myself and everything.

The excitement of doing something I shouldn't be doing made me have to pee so I went to the ladies room as soon as I got there. When I came out I found a place in the corner where I could just sit and watch. It was like a different world in there. There were pretty women dressed in sexy lingerie either walking around or sitting with men. Three women were completely naked and dancing on stages, and every one of the three had shaved everywhere. Men sat around the stages staring at the naked women. Every little bit a man would put some money up on the stage and the dancer would climb down in the man's lap and let him grope her for a little bit. Then she would climb back onto the stage and move on to the next man.

When the three naked girls were done dancing on the stages, each would take a man by the hand and lead him off to a doorway marked VIP, where a burly man would take some money before he would let them in. Then three more shaved naked women would take to the stages. Seeing all of this was so strange. My little stories had been so far off. Now I wondered just what was going on in that VIP room. All I knew is that ten or fifteen minutes after going in to the VIP, the dancer and her man would emerge smiling. I wondered if they were back there giving blowjobs or something.

I was there for a good forty-five minutes and no one really seemed to notice I was there. Of course when there were so many beautiful women around, who is going to notice me? As it got more crowded a man came in and sat at the table right in front of me. He was a bit older, maybe fifty, but he was still kind of handsome. He only sat there for a few minutes and a tall blond dancer came over and sat next to him.

They had to talk pretty loud to be heard over the music so I could hear almost everything they said. They briefly introduced themselves and asked each other how their days were going, and they talked about if he had been there before. Then the dancer asked the man, "Do you want to play"? The man said something back to her that I couldn't hear. The dancer then told him he could touch her anywhere he wanted to in the VIP. Then she took him by the hand and led him off to the VIP entrance where the burly guard took his money and let them in. It all seemed really simple.

It was getting late and I had to go. I didn't want to be home so late that I would alarm my husband. As I drove home I couldn't get over what I had just seen. That night I sat in bed to read but I couldn't stop thinking about all those men ogling and groping the dancers. I am sure the dancers didn't see it this way, but I thought that they were so lucky. They were all born pretty, had nice bodies and every man in that club wanted them. None of them had to go through life being invisible. None of them had to be someone like me. The more I thought about it the more I wanted to be like them. I wanted men to look at me and want me the same way the men wanted those strippers. I thought about how it might feel to be touched by so many strangers. All that thinking got me so turned on that I put down my book, and woke up my husband to have sex.

Over the next few months I started paying more attention to the dancers coming and going from the club than the men. I started wanting to be like more them. I wanted to be one of them. I thought about working there, but knew I didn't have the body for it. One evening I took a bold step and shaved my pubic hair like theirs. It felt so different and I have to admit it was an improvement over my normally ratty looking bush. I told my husband that it was an all-natural hygiene recommendation from the store. It was a wasted lie. He had barely even noticed that I did it. In the weeks after I started shaving, I secretly shopped for sexy stripper looking underwear and wore them when I was alone at home. I would look at my new outfits in the mirror and try to dance like the strippers. I think I actually looked kind of sexy dancing in my little outfits. Once I had a little collection of sexy bras and panties, I shopped for a couple of reveling outfits to go over the top of them.

Eventually I started wearing one of my more subdued sexy stripper outfits to work. My husband didn't seem to notice when I left wearing it and no at work seemed to notice either. It's not like we had a stream of men walking through the health food store to look at me like there was over at the club. In fact, almost all of our clientele were older self-absorbed women that used to be hippies. I started wearing the outfit more often, and every day I did I sat there hoping someone would notice me being sexy.

On one particularly slow day at work I had been watching the men go in and out of the club pretty much all afternoon. I had that sort of sexy outfit on and I kept thinking that if those men saw me in it they might think I was one of the strippers. After going back and forth in my mind, I decided to go into that club and see if my outfit would get any attention. It was a pretty harmless plan. I'd go in and men would look at me, then I would leave. What could possibly go wrong? So I went over to the club and of course right away I had to pee. When I came out of the ladies room, I had no idea what to do next so I sat right back in my old place over in the corner.

As I watched I saw that everything was pretty much the same. Pretty girls were walking around and some were sitting with men. Naked women were dancing on the stages and men were groping them. Girls were taking men back to the VIP and they would come out smiling. And just like before no one seemed to notice me. I just sat there and watched the naked girls dancing and wished that those men wanted me the way they wanted them. I didn't care who looked at me, even if it was this fat old man I saw sitting at one of the stages. At that point I just wanted someone to notice how sexy I was. As I sat there I started to imagine that I was one of the dancers and what I might do in the VIP with the men. I was getting pretty turned on by it all.

Then it happened, and it couldn't have been more perfect. This good looking man walked out of the VIP and checked me out. He ogled me! Then he smiled. Oh if only I were one of the strippers I would haul him off to that VIP so fast...

What happened next was nothing short of a miracle. The burly man that guards the VIP left his post and walked right past me and into the mens room. I saw my chance and made the boldest decision I have ever made. I hurried up to the man that had checked me out, took him by the hand and pulled him towards the VIP. As I pulled him I said, "Let's play". It was the only thing I'd ever heard a dancer say. Then into the VIP we went. Thankfully nobody saw us go in there. I am sure I would have been in a lot of trouble for doing what I was doing, and if my husband ever found out he would probably leave me.

Having never been in the VIP I had to think fast. There were two hallways, a shorter one and a longer one. I chose the longer one so that I would be as far away from the entrance as possible. As I pulled my man down the hall I could see naked dancers behind flimsy curtains in little cubicles. One was dancing and the other two were sitting in the laps of their men. I was relieved that I didn't see anyone getting a blowjob. I pulled my man all the way to the last cube hoping to hide back in the corner and not get caught.

Once we were in the cubicle my man sat on this little padded bench and was staring at me. I thought I should talk to him, but I couldn't seem to speak. I was scared to death and my heart felt like it would pound right out of my chest. I couldn't believe I was about to get naked in front of a total stranger and let him feel me up. All of the other dancers in the VIP were completely naked. So I went ahead and undressed in front of my man. Then I did a couple of the stripper moves I had practiced so the man would think I was a real dancer. In reality I had no clue what I was doing. On top of all that I was horny as hell.

As I danced the man just stared at my breasts. He didn't say a word about them and I think he kind of liked them. Go figure. Then I ran out of dance moves and didn't really know what I was supposed to do next. So I climbed in his lap and swayed to the music ready to be groped, but he didn't touch me. I wondered if I was doing it all wrong or god forbid he thought I wasn't pretty enough. I really wanted to be touched so I took his hands and placed them on my breasts. The man smiled and started squeezing them. He really did seem to like my tits. Then he started licking and sucking my nipples. It felt so damn good, and it was setting my pussy on fire.

I suppose I could have just let the man play with my tits the whole time, but I wanted to do more. I wanted him to touch me everywhere just like he undoubtedly had done with the real dancers. So I moved to his side and guided his hand down to my pussy. He wasted no time opening me up and putting his fingers into me. Then he started dragging his fingers perfectly against my clit. I didn't want him to stop so I held him there by the wrist, and I didn't budge. Oh god it felt so damn good. I laid my head on his shoulder intending to just enjoy his fingers for a little bit longer and I started to come. I couldn't have stopped if I wanted to. My orgasm was intense and I wanted to cry out, but I didn't want to get caught so I kept it as quiet as I could. The combination of doing something I shouldn't be doing, the possibility of getting caught, and having to keep quiet, made this orgasm even bigger.

After I came I had no idea what to do. I probably should have done something in return for the man, but I wasn't really a dancer. I didn't work there, and yet there I was naked in the VIP. I needed to get out of there. So I thanked the man for the orgasm, dressed as fast as I could, and hurried out of the club and back to the store. As I passed by the VIP entrance the burly guard was back at his post and he had to have seen me. So when I got to the store I locked myself in and watched through the window to see if anyone had come after me. I waited frozen not wanting to go back outside for fear I would be found.

I watched everyone coming out of that club. When the man from the entry counter came out and looked around the lot I thought I was busted for sure, but he just lit up a cigarette and leaned against the wall to smoke. Then I saw the man who I had just been with in the VIP come out. I ducked down hoping he wouldn't see me. I spent the next hour sitting on the floor behind the store's checkout where no one could see me, waiting for it to be safe to go. As I sat there, I couldn't stop smiling about what I had just done.

When I finally got home it was late. I hadn't even worked up a decent excuse to tell my husband why I wasn't home at my usual time. When I walked in he was relaxing in his sweats and playing a video game as usual. He didn't even seem to notice that I was so late. I figured if I distracted him he wouldn't realize how late I was, and I was really horny again. So I took away his controller, pulled off his sweats and sat in his lap and fucked him. The whole time I was imagining that I was back at the club fucking that man in the VIP. Those thoughts provided me with another intense orgasm, but this time I could get as loud as I wanted. Of course my husband took credit for my orgasm, but he really had no clue why I came so hard.

Emboldened by my success I started thinking about doing it again. A couple of months had passed and I made my plans to go back to the club, but this time I planned to do more. This time I was going to try and make a man come for me in the VIP. So I wore my sexiest stripper outfit under my clothes and headed over to the club after work. But when I got there the man at the entry counter told me I couldn't come in. I asked him why not. He told me that they had me on video tape taking a customer to the VIP and that I was permanently banned from the club. I couldn't believe it. I didn't get away with it like I had thought. I had actually gotten caught. As I walked back to the store I was pissed. I wasn't really pissed at the club. I was pissed that I had been caught. Then I realized something. I realized that I was special in a way. I had actually gotten to live out the sort of wild fantasy that most people only get to dream about. I also knew there were other clubs in town.

Okay, I am sorry. That story wasn't actually true. The story wasn't even about me. It was based on a true story that did happen to me, but it just isn't true. I promise that the rest of this story is indeed one hundred percent true and is one of the most erotic things that ever happened to me.

A new chapter in my life started at the age of 43 when I found myself divorced and alone. My ex-wife and I hadn't been intimate for a long time before the divorce and I sorely missed being with a woman. I was trying to date again, but wasn't having much success. When I was a young man my friends and I would go to dance clubs to meet women. Back then dating was easy. Now all of those clubs were gone and I had no idea what to do. I was trying the Internet dating thing, but I was like a fish out of water in that arena. I did meet a few women online, but those women weren't what I was looking for. I met a few women that were obviously much older than they claimed. I also met a couple of women that were married and looking for a fling. One look and it was obvious why their husbands had stopped being intimate with them. I even met one woman that was a private investigator. She was out meeting men that her clients thought might be their husbands. It was all pretty sad.

Eventually I hit a low point and I started going to strip clubs just so I could have some kind of interaction with a woman that was actually pretty. The fact that they were naked also didn't suck. There was one club in particular that I found that didn't serve any alcohol. State laws allowed the dancers in this club to strip completely naked. I liked that. I hate to admit it, but for a short time I became a regular at this club.

Besides the complete lack of clothing at this club, I also enjoyed the seemingly complete lack of rules. Long gone were the days of look but don't touch. At this place as long as you didn't touch a dancer between her legs, no one ever complained. Most of this this no rules stuff happened in a high priced private dance area they called the VIP. Like any man I fantasized about things getting out of hand in the VIP. I think men's VIP fantasies are probably the only thing keeping these clubs open. I know I was being pathetic, but I had the money, it made me feel good, and no one got hurt.