Up until a year ago I'd have said this:
https://forum.oneclickchicks.com/sho...68#post2314468
or this:
"I'm an oblivious person. Frankly low self-esteem physically, I rarely ever catch that someone's hitting on me unless it's blatant, and then I assume it's a prank (due to a really shitty experience once). One night I ended up 'closing' the coffee shop near campus. A barista I'd talked to like 3 times asked me as I left if I was still as wired as she was. I said yes. She asked if she could come over and hang out, maybe watch a movie. I was actually leery of the offer, but gave her my address and she said she'd be by after finishing up working. I went home and waited. And waited. Finally after I was really pissed she'd wasted my time, she knocked. I opened the door and she was in a long coat, which opened immediately revealing a very short teddy with see through cups. "I stopped to change," she said. We didn't watch any movies. And to let you know it wasn't all a fairy tale, she stank, she really, really, stank, and we never did it again or dated, and I think she picked up on my disgust, but didn't know why I was feeling it."
BUT, this year I had a wild, Penthouse Letters experience which no one will believe but I'll tell anyway:
Years ago. I was trying unsuccessfully to extend my 20s into my 30s when Michelle started hanging out at the bar I went to. Turned out she was only 19 but she was hot and acted older so she got a pass most nights from the bouncer.
We started hanging out after the bar closed. We'd drink each other under the table and then she'd crash in my bed, wearing just a t-shirt of mine. Seeing her butt once for a second was the extent of what I saw of her. I never made a move. We almost kissed once, and once or twice we woke up spooning and she'd give me shit about what was poking her. I was too afraid she'd ditch me as a friend. Or, that it'd change things between us and there was no way I wanted to get involved with a lady 12 years younger than me who was also a drama queen of the first order. But gawd I fantasized.
She got a possessive boyfriend and stopped going to the bar. I stopped trying to pretend I was 23. I got married, etc.
We lost touch for years then kept in touch every few months on social media.
A year ago she calls me and asks if I want to hang out, go to a bar. She's now in her mid-30s. I check with my wife, she says it's fine.
I go to pick Michelle up at her house and she's still putting her face on. I tell her that it's not necessary but you know how that goes. While I'm waiting I notice a travel bag at the end of her couch. It's overflowing with lacy things and neon colored things, all looking like lingerie or bikinis. She finally comes out and I'm trying to think of explanations for what she'd have it for.
I finally broke and just said, "What the hell is that?" pointing to it.
"I'm dancing these days down at ____"
"And by dancing you mean..."
"Stripping."
And I made appreciative noises and over the course of the night I made a couple hints I wanted to see. I actually wasn't totally surprised she was in that line of work, she never could hold a job longer than a few months at best and to be cruelly honest about it without an education and with a tattered CV it might've been the best paying work she could get. But it was still surreal, like I'd wandered into a strange universe.
She picked up on the hints and finally said she was cool with me dropping by, most of her friends had been stopped in.
"!" I thought.
We talked, saw the bar close and I took her home.
Once home, the next morning I mentioned it to my wife. She said she was surprised Michelle hadn't aged out of that game. Ouch.
I didn't want to seem too eager. . but I got Michelle's rough schedule from her and cleared it with my wife. I wanted her to go too, but she hates strip bars- the smoke and loud noise kills her. She rolled her eyes and said sure I could go.
So I went, and waited for a good two hours, fending off come'ons from other dancers. Just as I'd decided to go she showed up.
We talked for maybe five minutes- all her bits were covered but I was seeing more than I'd ever seen of her. We've always gotten along well so were deep enough in conversation that she missed hearing her name called as the next dancer and a waitress had to come and extricate her.
She actually seemed shy about me seeing her on stage as she went off. I took this as a once in a lifetime opportunity and moved up to pervert's row after a respectful 30 seconds.
And. . I got to see possibly my best girl (space space) friend's titties. She danced well, and I saw an emotion I'd never seen on her before- embarrassment. She was definitely not completely cool with me seeing her in just a thong. But she kept at it and slowly seemed to acclimate. I tipped, and tipped well and got to slide it through the waistband of her thong, and I thought that was as good as it was going to get.
After her set was over she came back to our table and we talked more. She was nervous and giggly about the whole thing. She is not and never has been a giggler to my knowledge.
Then the older floor manager / head waitress came over and asked me if I wanted to buy her a drink (overpriced watered down and equivalent to a token for time you can spend with the girl) or go to the private area for a lap dance. Now it was my turn to laugh nervously, and Michelle joined in. She said I was just a friend.
But the battleaxe gave her a mean look, and Michelle looked anxious, then it was the vodka speaking when I said, "Sure, I'll take a dance"
Michelle's eyes went wide, then she laughed nervously again. I added, "If you're up for it. . " She giggled and said she was.
I worked out the details with the older lady, and had to go to the onsite ATM (damn those things) to get money. Apparently Michelle would collect a percentage of it, I never knew how much.
Knowing it was wrong, and knowing it was a one time thing, I followed Michelle as she led me back to a row of rooms, nominally open but with curtains for doors.
She showed me where to sit, and after a second or two of talking about other stuff she did admit she was dying from embarrassment when she first saw me in the club, and then on pervert row; that she was even more embarrassed that we were in the lapdance rooms.
I told her she didn't have to do this. She disagreed and said she had to- I'd paid, and she'd said yes. We argued a bit about it, but I gave in (not reluctantly I'll add)
Picture your typical very hands on lapdance. . but from a girl you lusted after for years.
The song ended, and I don't remember how much time I'd paid for, but we ended up just having the same conversations we always did- except she was sitting on my lap facing me wearing only a thong; and I had my arms around her, stroking her sides, and occasionally her boobs, or her inner thighs. You know, like good friends do. I was hard the whole time, and she knew it.
Finally she or I said, "This is bad," and the other nervously agreed. There was a rustle of the curtains and I heard "5 minutes!" from outside.
I called out, "once more?" looking at Michelle for approval and the old lady came in. I dug out my wallet and peeled off more and my money went away.
We kept talking, and I kept stroking. She stroked back. I eventually was kissing and sucking her nipples and her neck and we still kept the conversation about everything except what we were doing.
I know I said at least once "this is really, really bad," and she replied, "but it's hot too." I couldn't help but agree, at least physically.
Finally she said, "I think this is the last song." I wanted to continue but really was starting to think how much money I'd blown.
The song started, and she said something like, "let me finish off right."
She started in with the typical lap dance then bit my crank through my pants. She blew hot breath on it, then came up for a kiss, while stroking me. After almost, just almost too long I told her to stop- I was afraid this was far beyond what my boss, I mean wife, had authorized, plus I did not want to walk out with a mess on my hands.
The song ended, we walked out. I stayed another 15 or 20 minutes to make damned sure I was sober, and we hugged and said our goodbyes.
We haven't seen each other in person since - the COVID's made sure of that. But we did text a couple of times. She said she felt embarrassed at me seeing her almost naked, but more than that it was that I was seeing her at -that- job, one she really wouldn't have taken if she had other options. She felt humiliated and like she was disappointing to me, but then got really turned on in the lapdance room, like I was paying for her like a [forbidden word]. She said the night was now in her 'spank bank' and hoped it was in mine. [Edit- I did assure her I wasn't disappointed in her. (but I really hope she gets a better job)]
We texted a few times more, once she said I needed to bring my wife next time, or, just come over to her house and eliminate the "house's" cut. That was a very interesting idea. . .then COVID happened and that dashed chances of getting together.
I still keep thinking about it but I really don't think anything will ever come of it. I did confess everything to my wife and she was pissed but forgave. She also didn't outright say no to the possibility of Michelle coming over some night- and my wife swings bi- when she's liquored up.
But anyway- hottest thing that's ever happened to me, or probably ever will. Shit, it's probably all downhill from here.