Russian beauty Ginger

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

Ginger was of Russian-Egyptian descent. That afternoon, I left work early and went to a strip club, the same one I'd been to before. Because of the time, there were only two customers at the bar, me and another customer, while a tall dancer was lazily swaying on stage. Her blonde hair was piled on top of her head, her face was thin but very beautiful, and her floor-length black dress made her look very elegant. That was Ginger.
After her dance, she didn't even bother to collect a tip and sat down next to me. After we introduced ourselves, she asked if I wanted her to dance for me. I couldn't refuse such a beautiful woman.
She pulled me to a private room. Normally, dancers would strip down to their underwear, but her dress had shoelaces tied at the back, requiring dozens of back-and-forth movements. She said it was too much trouble to take it off, so she only showed her breasts without removing the dress.
Her breasts weren't large, which was a bit of a shame. But she had nipple piercings; it was the first time I'd ever seen a real person with nipple piercings. She not only let me touch them but also allowed me to lick her nipples. I jokingly asked if she had piercings down there, and she said yes, but she couldn't show me right now. I asked how I could see, and she told me to go to the "champage room." She also said she was the "champage queen" there and that I wouldn't regret spending 30 minutes with her. In a moment of impulsiveness, I agreed. So I went to the ATM at the bar and withdrew $200.
I'd heard from other dancers that the "champage room" was a more private space where two people could drink champagne and spend the night naked together. Of course, this was a licensed bar, and sexual intercourse wasn't allowed, but any other borderline sexual activity was permitted. Unfortunately, the champagneroom was under renovation and unavailable that day… We had to go back to the privileged arcade. The staff pulled the curtains closed so other customers and dancers couldn't see us. “Why didn’t you say so when you were seducing me?” I felt cheated. But we’d already paid, so we had to make do. Soon, the staff brought us champagne and ice.
I thought she would take off all her clothes this time, but she refused, saying the clothes were uncomfortable. Instead, she took off her black thong and gave it to me. I picked up her panties and smelled them; a strong, pungent odor assaulted my nostrils. But I didn’t feel disgusted by the smell; instead, I felt excited (I’m ashamed of myself for this).
The ginger continued doing the same thing as before, rubbing her bare buttocks against my crotch, then sitting face-to-face on my lap, making me suckle her breasts. I said I wanted to see her genitals. She smiled, stood up, and then stood on the sofa, presenting her genitals to my face. I smelled that same pungent odor again. The difference was that before, the smell had seeped onto my underwear from here, but now I was facing the source of the odor.
In the dim light, I could see she didn't have much pubic hair; it was clearly shaved, as I could still see the stubble. Her
labia minora were butterfly-shaped, slightly turned up. I couldn't make out the color of her labia minora clearly, but it wasn't dark.
The worst part was that she had a piercing near her clitoris. I picked up the piercing with my teeth and gently tugged at it; she immediately stopped, saying it hurt.
I mustered my courage and licked her labia with my tongue, even inserting it into her vagina. It was already filled with her vaginal fluid, very sticky, unlike the Asian girls I'd licked before. Asian girls' vaginal fluid shouldn't be this sticky. Of course, this is just my personal feeling, a case study, and I don't know if it's a common phenomenon.
I saw a post from a fellow pervert a couple of days ago that seemed to reflect the same issue, so I'm just responding here. The claim that Western women have a stronger pungent odor might be true, but it also has a lot to do with whether or not one showers before sex.
Half an hour passed quickly, and we'd only taken a few sips of champagne—anyway, that wasn't what we were drinking. The conclusion was that $200 wasn't worth it! Most of the prostitutes at Craigslist, including white, Latina, and Black women, charge around $200 an hour, while Asian women in massage parlors are generally $160. This white woman, Ginger, was very pretty, but she hadn't even taken her clothes off…
Afterwards, I was still unsatisfied, so I asked her if we could meet outside the bar and have sex sometime. She said yes and gave me her phone number. I asked her how much an hour, and she said $300. Compared to the previous $200, $300 was quite cheap, but I still didn't call.
"With that money, I could buy an Xbox 360!" I often used this excuse to stop myself from wasting money on prostitutes for a moment of pleasure. It worked at first, but it stopped working after a while.
Let's Talk About Those Beautiful and Lovely Strippers – Part 2 (First Half) ************ Beautiful New Mom Alisha
Since the abbreviation for the strip club mentioned earlier is "DC," I'll refer to it as DC in the following text.
DC isn't far from my house, and the environment is nice, the drinks are cheap, and the quantity and quality of the dancers are guaranteed, so it became the place I frequented most often.
Once, I saw a beautiful blonde woman dancing on stage wearing a swimsuit-style lingerie top. Usually, dancers take off their tops or bras completely by the second dance, leaving only their underwear. This dancer was different; she only pulled down her bra straps to expose her breasts, without removing her top. Considering that the Russian beauty Ginger didn't take her clothes off completely either, and that this dancer might be new to the industry and shy about taking them off, I didn't think much of it.
Soon after, she came up to me and started chatting. She said her name was Alisha, and she used to dance here for a while, but stopped because she got pregnant. Now, after giving birth, she's back to her old profession after some time. I asked her if she and her partner were together. She said her live-in boyfriend had an unstable job and low income, so she had to work to supplement their income. I then asked if her boyfriend agreed to her working here. She said he knew she did this kind of work, and since jobs are hard to find these days, he didn't stop her. I was quite moved after hearing this… She asked if I wanted to go with her to the private room in the back. I already felt sorry for her after hearing her story, and since she was quite attractive, I didn't refuse. In the back room, she sat on my lap and pulled down the straps of her top, exposing her breasts. I asked her why she didn't just take her top off. She said she had recently given birth and had stretch marks on her stomach, which she was afraid would scare me. I then understood why she hadn't taken her clothes off on stage…
I said it was okay, let me see what stretch marks look like too. (To avoid upsetting the readers, over 100 words have been omitted here.)
I thought about how childbirth is the most glorious thing a woman can do in her life. Although it may affect a woman's figure and appearance, this is temporary. With proper care and moderate exercise, a woman's body can generally return to its pre-pregnancy state after about six months. During this time, men should be proud of their women and should never look down on or ridicule their figures.
Alisha is of medium height, neither fat nor thin, with an oval face rarely seen in Western women, and long hair flowing down her shoulders. Her breasts are quite large but slightly sagging. I asked her if I could lick her nipples, and she said yes. I then asked, "Would your babyminder?" She said she didn't have any milk after giving birth, and her child was formula-fed. So, without any hesitation, I grabbed her two large, soft breasts and began to suckle. Her nipples and areolas were brown, and the areolas were quite large. I even tried to reach for her genitals, but she politely pushed my hand away.
After we finished, we went back to the bar. Usually, the dancers would go back to their own dressing room or find other customers after their dance. But Alisha didn't do much; instead, she sat and chatted with me for a long time, and I even bought her a juice. We hit it off very well; she seemed like a very easygoing and gentle person. We talked until it was almost her turn to dance her next round before she left.
I don't know if it was because she didn't choose the right time or if she quit, but I never saw Alisha at that bar afterward, which was a bit of a pity. But I wish her and her daughter all the best.
Let's talk about those beautiful and lovely strippers—Part 2 (Part 2) ********** The youthful and charming Anita
. The US economy is sluggish, and many people are unemployed. I heard reports that some office ladies, after losing their jobs, had no means of livelihood and turned to prostitution. Some of the bolder ones became call girls, while others, more shy, frequented strip clubs. I talked about this topic with some strippers, and some said that there have indeed been some new faces recently, and Anita was one of them.
One day at DC, I saw a white girl with short black hair dancing on stage. She had a great figure and danced beautifully. I heard that many strippers learn to dance from professional teachers before "entering the industry," and it seems this one really received her teacher's true teachings. She had fair skin, firm, well-proportioned breasts, and a round, pert bottom—the kind of woman you'd want to sleep with. So I started paying attention to her.
After her dance and collecting tips, she circled the bar but didn't talk to any of the customers, which struck me as odd. Usually, dancers collecting tips behind the bar would spot a customer they liked, immediately approach them after leaving the bar, chat with them, and then lead them to the back; if the customer refused, they'd move on to the next target. There were quite a few customers at the time; didn't she find any she liked?
She didn't ask me anything as she passed by, but instead sat down a few seats away from me, all alone. I rarely saw dancers sitting like that at the bar, especially when there were customers. "Was she waiting for someone to talk to her?"
I'd never approached a dancer before; this time, I decided to try. So I said to her from a few seats away, "Would you sit with me?" She turned around, paused for about a second, smiled, and sat down next to me.
This time I could see her face up close; it was indeed a delicate face. Short black hair covered her forehead, her large eyes blinked, her small nose was playfully upturned, and the lightly applied lipstick made her look even more lively and cute. Her pointed chin exuded an invincible youthful charm. Her arms and flat stomach were without an ounce of fat; any more or less would have made her too plump, any less too thin. Her round, white bottom swayed so brightly it was almost dazzling.
I seized the opportunity to flatter her, saying, "You have a great body! It seems 　　you're the best girl here today
!" She was delighted and said, "Really?" Indeed, she was the most captivating girl I'd seen all day. 　　I then asked, "Let meguerus, are you—20?" "I'm 19!" she answered proudly. 　　Seeing such a beautiful young woman here made my heart ache for her, yet I was also grateful to have such a lovely woman by my side. She told me her name was Anita. 　　As I spoke, my hand wandered to her waist and pinched it, but there was no fat to be found. She cried out softly, "Don't!" trying to push my hand away, a shy expression on her face. So my hand roamed over her hips. Her buttocks didn't look fat at all, but they felt soft and yielding, unlike what I expected. 　　Other dancers would quickly get to the point and ask customers if they wanted to go "behind," but even after chatting with Anita for a long time, she didn't ask that. I finally couldn't resist the allure of her body and asked her if she could give me a lap dance. She seemed to have been waiting for me to say that and immediately agreed. 　　At the dance studio, she took off her bra and sat on my lap, completely bewildered. It seemed her dance teacher had only taught her pole dancing, not lap dance. 　　I was both amused and annoyed, and while stroking her buttocks, I asked her, "How long have you been here? I've never seen you before." "Today is my 2nd day!" 　　No wonder, she's still a virgin, completely inexperienced. 　　I instinctively reached for her lovely breasts, but she covered them with both hands and refused, her face showing a look of panic. She seemed too shy. 　　So I said, "Turn around, let me kiss you butt." If she wouldn't let me touch her breasts, a kiss on the butt would be okay, I thought. 　　Unexpectedly, she said, "No! You're kissy!" She wouldn't let me touch her anywhere, and then called me weird! I was a little annoyed. But then I thought, today is her second day at work, it's normal for her to be shy; if I were to be aggressive, she'd definitely call security. 　　So I took a roundabout approach, saying, "May I lick your breast? I'll only lick your breasts, not bite your nipples." 　　She pouted and puffed out her cheeks, thinking for a moment; she looked so cute. Perhaps feeling she was being too unreasonable by not giving in at all, she let go, but still pinched her nipple with her fingers… "This girl actually came up with this… Oh well, being able to lick her beautiful breasts is good enough, I'll make do! After all, she's still a child…" I comforted myself. 　　Knowing there wasn't much to gain, I didn't ask her to extend the time. After leaving the room, she went straight to the dancers' lounge. 　　Later I thought, if I spent $200 to go to the Chaptagneroom with her and flirt a bit, get to know her better, and let her relax, I might still have a chance to kiss her all over. Alas, what a pity for her youthful and beautiful body! 　　Later I saw Anita twice more in DC, but didn't have a chance to chat with her; she must have forgotten me. I hope she's not as shy as before. Let 　　me tell you about those beautiful and lovely strippers—Part 3 (Part 1) ************ Aunt Eve, with a figure like a young girl 　　. There's a strip club called EC (abbreviation) on my way to work. Actually, EC is more convenient than DC, but the environment is worse, the drinks are more expensive, and most importantly, the dancers are of varying quality, so I go to EC less often than DC. But I still saw a few nice dancers there. 　　When I first saw Eve, I admired her. She was white, with long blonde hair, wearing a pink dress, and no bra underneath, only pink thongs. What was most striking was her figure. She wasn't tall, but her breasts and hips had beautiful curves, her stomach was flat, and the rest of her body was perfectly proportioned, a truly enviable young woman's figure. Because the bar was dimly lit, I couldn't see her face clearly, but from the outline, she seemed attractive. 　　After the pole dancing, she put her long skirt back on and came down from the stage to collect tips. Unlike DC, the dancers here didn't collect tips behind the bar; instead, they went outside and chatted with each customer. Customers would take the opportunity to grope her and try to get something for nothing. Since it wasn't inside the private room, customers generally wouldn't touch the dancer's breasts, even if she wasn't wearing a bra, but her buttocks and thighs were allowed. Then the customer would slip a tip into the dancer's cleavage or thong. Of course, this wouldn't be a one-dollar reward; the dancer would hug the customer, act coquettishly, and try to get a few more dollars. 　　Each time Eve approached a customer, she would have them remove her long skirt, leaving her only in her thong, allowing them to freely touch every part of her body except her breasts. After receiving payment, she would put the skirt back on and move on to the next customer. This tireless process of undressing and putting on her skirt seemed very professional. And naturally, each customer enjoyed helping her undress.

As soon as she came to my side, I smelled an intoxicating perfume. After we greeted each other and introduced ourselves, she turned and gestured for me to help her take off her skirt. I gladly obliged, and after she took it off, I pulled her into my arms. Only then did I notice her face. It was indeed a beautiful face, but one etched with the marks of time; she was at least 40 years old. It was truly remarkable that a 40-year-old woman could maintain such a good figure. Especially for Western women, most women's bodies begin to change shape after 30.
If I hadn't seen her face, I would never have believed she was over 25. Her nipples were small and cute, and even more remarkable was that her nipples and areolas were light brown, the areolas so light they were almost indistinguishable from her skin, suggesting that in her youth, nipples and areolas must have been pink. "Even her labia might have been pink!" I thought lewdly.
A body can lie, but a face and skin cannot. I felt that her skin was rough, lacking the smoothness and delicacy of a young girl's skin. My hand caressed her buttocks; though they looked round and perky, I could feel they were a bit loose to the touch. It gave me a moment of melancholy, like "beauty fading with age, hero's end"...
I originally wanted to say, "You must be a great girl when you are young!" But I immediately felt that would be insulting, so I quickly changed it to, "You look great!"
She smiled and said, "Thak you!"
I felt that her charming smile, accompanied by a provocative flick of her eyebrow, was breathtaking; her allure remained, her charm undiminished. Truly, a woman past her prime, yet still possessing her captivating beauty!
Unlike the other dancers, she didn't ask if I wanted to go to the private room. Instead, I couldn't resist the urge to explore this young woman's body more deeply, so I shamelessly asked her, "Can you offer me?"
"Sure!" she readily agreed.
But she still patiently put on her dress before pulling me to the back.
Once inside, she took off her dress, had me sit on the sofa, spread my legs, and then knelt before me, caressing my crotch. I asked her why she didn't invite me to her private room like the other dancers, and she said, "You're too young!" Apparently, she thought I would disdain her because of her age—how self-aware she was, and how much she underestimated her own charm.
I had her sit on my lap and then caressed her breasts; like her buttocks, they were soft but somewhat saggy. I wanted to kiss her nipple, but she pushed my head away and said, "Don't, I have my juice!" I wanted to try again, but seeing her displeasure, I didn't persist. Dancers also have their own dignity. At her age, she must have been in this line of work for a long time, yet she still maintains her dignity and boundaries—it's not easy! I hope I'm not just imagining things.
Actually, aging beauties should be admired from afar rather than defiled, allowing their beauty to last longer, and making the viewer feel more at ease rather than seeing the marks of time hidden beneath their beauty.
Let's talk about those beautiful and lovely strippers—Part 3 (Part 2) ************ Not mif, but gif debra. Since we just introduced the blonde auntie Eve, let's talk about debra, who is also a "aging beauty." First, let's introduce the title. What are "mif" and "gif"? Actually, I only learned about it from browsing Craigslist. "Milf" – "motheri'dliketofuck." It comes from the movie "American Pie," remember that guy who always tried to sleep with his classmates' mothers? So "milf" represents women who have children but still retain their charm and beauty enough to tempt crime. As for "gif," I'll talk about that later.
There's another strip club near my office, and I've been there a few times. The first time I went, I saw a white dancer who danced quite well and had a good figure, but she was a bit older. "Probably 35-40?" I thought to myself. Of course, every strip club has plus-size, average-looking dancers; I'm talking about those with good looks.
After her dance, she came up to me while collecting tips and said, "Hi, baby! First time here?"
She said her name was Debra, and then she started introducing the bar's schedule, the names of each dancer at the bar, and when they had special events... I laughed and asked her if she was the owner, otherwise why would she be giving such a detailed introduction? She said she had been working there for a long time and hoped more customers would like to come and patronize the
place. The second time I went, I recognized her immediately, and she recognized me too, and even remembered my name. We were practically acquaintances, and this time we sat down and chatted for quite a while. I stroked her back, and she boldly placed her hand on my thigh and stroked it back and forth. Debra was actually quite attractive, at least a beauty in her youth. Brown curly hair, bronze skin, large and firm breasts, a round but not fat bottom, and taut thighs without an ounce of fat. She seemed to be the kind of person who exercised regularly; perhaps dancing every day was her form of exercise. In short, she's the kind of woman who, despite her age, still maintains her charm.
During our conversation, she mentioned she's 42 years old and was one of the earliest dancers at this bar when it opened. She quit over 20 years ago to get married and have children, and is now divorced and living alone. Because she was unemployed, she returned to her old profession last year.
I was astonished; she'd been a stripper for over 20 years! And now her child is almost 20 and she's still dancing—it's truly admirable. I asked if her children objected to her doing this. She said of course they didn't approve, but they weren't exactly against it either; she quite enjoyed the job.
I jokingly said, "You're a beautiful, lovely woman!" I said it carefully, afraid of offending her. Unexpectedly,
she wasn't angry at all, and instead said, "Woman? No, I'm beautiful!" "What's beautiful?" I asked.
"Granma is delicious!" she said. It turns out her daughter had a baby last year, and now she's a grandmother.
After she explained, they both burst into laughter. Seeing her laugh, I felt a pang of sadness for her…
Debra didn't ask if I wanted to go to the private room, and I didn't ask either. It wasn't that I looked down on her age—otherwise, I wouldn't have had Eve dance for me. It was because I felt a certain restraint towards her, the kind of respect one has for an elder, or perhaps a respect for a friend. Maybe it's like what I said before: "A beautiful woman in her later years is best admired from afar, not to be trifled with."
The two "older" strippers I introduced today might not be to everyone's taste. But adhering to the principle of "better to kill the innocent than let the guilty go free," I want to introduce some strippers I consider to have character. Tomorrow, I'll continue introducing some of my favorite strip beauties, so don't miss it.
My Favorites Nikki and Raven—Stripper Series (Part 4) Among the many strippers, my four favorites are: including the 19-year-old beauty Anita mentioned earlier, Nikki, and Raven, all three of whom work at DC (DC is not Washington, but an abbreviation for bar). The last one, Chelsea, works at another bar and will be mentioned later.
**************** GFE's Nikki
GFE is short for Girlfriend Experience, meaning this girl can give you the same friendly feeling as a girlfriend. Those who frequent Craigslist and Escort websites should be familiar with this term.
To be honest, I didn't pay much attention to Nikki when I first saw her. She's quite tall, probably around 1.7 meters (I generally prefer shorter girls); her hair is a mix of blonde and brown, long and flowing; she has fair skin; she's slightly chubby with a round bottom, the fuller type; and her breasts are large and slightly sagging. Girls like that are nice to look at in everyday life, but they don't stand out in the sea of girls at DC.
However, Nikki has her own appeal: her dancing is incredibly energetic, technically sound, and involves large body movements, showing she's truly trained. When she came down from the stage and started collecting tips, I noticed she was panting, probably from too much exercise, so I said, "Take it easy, baby!
Your good job!" She thanked me, and with her large breasts, she snatched the money from my hand. I didn't forget to sneak a quick grope. I also noticed she had a very pretty baby face, and her voluptuous body perfectly complemented her cute, chubby face. I developed a liking for her.
After collecting the tips, she got dressed and started chatting with customers. When she came to me, I asked her to sit down. She said her name was Nikki. I asked if she was new, because I hadn't seen her before. She said it was her second week there, and since she didn't come to work every day, we hadn't met. She also said she was 22 years old and worked as a receptionist at a company, the kind who greets visitors and answers phones, only coming on Monday and Friday afternoons a week.
I placed my hand on her back and felt it was damp, so I asked her why she was covered in sweat. She said it was because she was clumsy; others could just wiggle a little on stage and it would be fine, but she danced until she was drenched in sweat, yet she didn't get more tips than others.
I complimented her, saying she danced very well, and that attracting attention was a reward in itself.
Actually, I was thinking, "Little chubby girl, it's because you're too oily. More exercise will do you good!" Then I said, "May be able to lift your body to make it dry quickly!"
She giggled and covered her mouth, even giving me a nudge, saying, "You are so bad!" We had already started flirting.
She sweetly asked if I could buy her a drink, and I readily agreed. So she ordered a juice; I thought she would order something more expensive. How thoughtful of her! This made me like her even more. As we chatted, she wrapped her arms around mine and rested her head on my shoulder, like a couple deeply in love. It was a long-lost feeling, as if it had taken me back to my university days, sitting on a bench by West Lake with my girlfriend, whispering sweet nothings. No dancer had ever embraced me so gently and without any hint of provocation before, and I was truly flattered.
After a while, I told her we'd go "to the back" once she was "dry." She told me to wait a moment and then left. A few minutes later, she returned. I touched her and found her body was dry, but ice-cold. I asked her what she'd been doing. She said she'd gone outside to get some fresh air so she could dry faster. It was January, and the wind was biting cold outside. This silly girl had actually gone outside to get some fresh air… There was no need to ruin her health like this just to make money quickly! I lovingly pulled her into my arms, warming her with my own body heat.
Once inside the private room, she chose a corner seat for me, took off her clothes, and sat on my lap. I was able to freely knead her large breasts with one hand and her round buttocks with the other. Her breasts were soft and large; I could press my palm against one nipple, while my fingers could almost pinch the other.
I lowered my head to bite her breast, but she quickly pushed me away, saying, "No, you're not really lowered to this!" Seeing my disappointed expression, she cautiously looked around. Seeing no one was watching, she cupped her breasts to my mouth and said, "Quickly!" The scene resembled two high school students having an affair at home, terrified their parents would suddenly appear at the door. So I took the opportunity to suckle her two large, plump breasts to my heart's content.
When we came out of Privatroom, it was almost her turn to dance. She asked me to wait for her, and I agreed. Just as she started dancing, my wife called, and I had to go outside to answer it because I couldn't let her hear the noise from the bar. My wife told me on the phone to hurry home because it was urgent, so I didn't go back into the bar and drove straight home.
Actually, I should have said goodbye to Nikki because I promised her I would wait for her to finish dancing, but she still had at least 5 more minutes to go, and I couldn't tell her I was leaving from the audience. This foreshadowed the misunderstanding that followed.
*************** Raven, who is of mixed race
, had been on my mind for a long time because she was very beautiful, of medium height, with long, black hair, and a face that looked like both a Caucasian and an Asian; the main reason was that she looked like one of my classmates, and this classmate had been my crush from kindergarten to high school.
Raven liked to wear school uniforms when she danced—a white shirt and tie, a plaid mini-skirt, and, more importantly, she often wore black stockings with suspenders. She exuded both a well-behaved, innocent charm (upper body) and a wild, untamed spirit (lower body). Every time I saw her take off her shirt and skirt, leaving only her thong and stockings, and wildly dance her sexy body on stage, my blood would boil, and I'd be completely aroused.
But Raven was too popular; there was always a large group of regulars waiting for her. After her dance and collecting tips, she'd go chat with them, and often went into the privileged arcade with them, which made me incredibly jealous. Since she wouldn't come to me on her own, I decided to take the initiative. One time, while she was collecting tips, I asked her if she could come to my bar later, and she agreed.
But instead of coming right away, she spent a long time chatting with a customer. Just as I was about to get up and leave in a huff, she came to my side and apologized, saying a regular customer had kept her waiting. I said it was alright, and we chatted. I had already heard DJ introduce her as Raven. She said she was of mixed American and Japanese descent and had been working there for almost a year. "No wonder she has so many regular customers!" I thought.
When we talked face-to-face, I noticed that even her smile was somewhat similar to my classmate's.
So I said, "You look like my friend." Unexpectedly, she smiled and said, "Comon, you are a student school!"
She thought I was using an old-fashioned pickup line, which made me incredibly embarrassed, but I meant it! Seeing my silence, she realized she might have gone too far and changed the subject.
Raven was a very talkative girl, and she spoke gently, always wearing a smile on her angelic face. When I made her laugh, her smile became even sweeter. Those who read the previous post might remember I mentioned a dancer named Jessica whose nipples and areolas glowed in dim lighting. Raven, a friend of Jessica, confirmed that Jessica's nipples and areolas glowed.
My hands roamed over her body, and when I placed my hand on her stockinged thighs, my penis was already hard. To be honest, I had never been in contact with a beautiful woman wearing black stockings before. My ex-girlfriends were too young, my wife too plain, and prostitutes not classy enough; they wouldn't buy such sexy clothing as black stockings. Black stockings aren't suitable for every woman; only those with the right thigh length and thickness look good in them, and Raven's thighs were perfect for black stockings. The addition of a suspender top further enhanced the elegant and seductive effect.
We naturally went to the private room. She took off her top, and wearing only a thong and stockings, had me sit in the middle of the sofa. She then spread my legs and stood in the middle, squatting down and rubbing her buttocks against my crotch, occasionally turning to look at me, sucking on her fingers. I placed my hand on her buttocks and stroked them. Her buttocks were soft and round, very comfortable to touch. I noticed a small, brown birthmark, about the size of a fingernail, on her buttocks, usually hidden by her stockings, but clearly visible when I pulled them aside to touch her. I leaned down and kissed her buttocks, licking them back and forth with my tongue; she just giggled but didn't stop me.
I couldn't resist her teasing, pulling her into my arms and grabbing her breasts. Perhaps due to her Asian heritage, her breasts weren't large, the only slightly less impressive feature of her body. I had her sit sideways on my lap, one arm around my neck, and I leaned down to bite her nipple. She didn't object and even let out moans of pleasure, which fueled my lust even more.
I had her sit facing me on my lap, and I took turns sucking on her breasts. She held my head, tilted her head back, and continued to moan softly.
I said, "Baby, I want a fuck you!" She gasped, "Yeh? Then go a fuck me!"
As she spoke, she pushed her knees against the sofa, lifting and lowering her body, her genitals repeatedly striking my penis, as if we were making love.
I reached my fingers through her thong to touch her anus, but she pushed my hand away, saying, "No, honey, don't!" I tried to reach for her genitals again, but she pulled my hand away. But she didn't stop; her genitals and buttocks continued to slam against my penis and thighs, moaning. Although I knew it was fake, I was still very satisfied.
Midway through, she stopped and asked if I wanted to continue, because the three minutes were up. How could I stop at that point? I agreed without thinking. My mouth kept sucking on her breasts, and my hands caressed her bare buttocks and stockinged thighs.
From then on, Raven became my favorite dancer. Every time she saw me, she was happy. After dancing on stage, she would often come to my side, and then inevitably we'd bite her breasts, touch her buttocks, and pretend to have sex in the private room.
One time, I was chatting with Raven at the bar. I saw a familiar figure on stage, like Nikki. So I asked Raven, "Is that Nikki?" She said she didn't know her. Apparently, there were many girls there, and their work hours were different, so some dancers weren't familiar with each other.
When the girl who had just finished dancing came to collect tips from us, I recognized her clearly as Nikki. I inexplicably felt like I'd been caught cheating. Nikki was one of my favorite dancers, and last time she seemed like my girlfriend. I picked up a one-dollar coin and said, "Hey! Baby Nikki!" I expected her to use her large breasts to snatch the money. Instead, she grabbed it, coldly tossing out, "You're such a drama queen!" and walked away without looking back. Confused, I turned to Raven. Raven shook his head, also unsure what Nikki meant. I was too embarrassed to chase after her and ask.
Was she jealous because she saw me sitting with Raven? Wasn't I just being presumptuous? It's normal for a customer to chat with several dancers! Does she have to be fixated on one? Dancers make a living by chatting with customers; they don't fixate on just one customer! Could it be that my abrupt departure last time upset her, and she's angry that I broke my promise? If that's the case, she's taking it too seriously; we're not even dating... After thinking it over, the second reason seems more plausible. The problem is, it doesn't seem necessary for me to go and explain to her; that would seem too low-class. But if I don't explain, people will think Chinese people are untrustworthy, which is a matter of international reputation...
In the end, I never had a chance to sit down and talk to Nikki, and I didn't see her much there either, so I gradually forgot about her.
Tomorrow's topic is the most seductive and lewd stripper I've ever encountered. Stay tuned!
The most seductive and lewd Ginger, Harmony, and zz—Striptease Series (Part 5) If the girls I talked about a few days ago were the "youthful and cute type" or the "mature and reserved type," then Ginger, Harmony, and zz today belong to the "seductive and lewd type"—the
kind you want to have sex with the moment you see them. Actually, my real dividing line is that these dancers allow me to touch their genitals, even perform oral sex and "finger penetration," and they are all available for "going out."
************* Chapter 1: The Seductive Ginger I've already mentioned Ginger in the previous article. If you're interested, you can check out the pinned post "Talking about those beautiful and cute striptease dancers," Part 1, Chapter 3, "Russian Beauty Ginger." Unfortunately, when I wrote it, I arranged it chronologically without categorizing it. This section doesn't repeat what I wrote earlier, but rather describes her second experience, although this one left me somewhat unsatisfied.
Ginger was the first "sexy and wanton" stripper I encountered. Even standing three meters away, you could sense her seductive aura emanating from her every move. My only $200 chat room privilege was spent on Ginger, because I couldn't resist her allure.
The second time I saw her, she quickly recognized me. We sat down and chatted. She started promoting her chat room plan again. Having learned from our previous experience of only being able to fool around behind the curtain for half an hour during the chat room renovations, I asked her, "Are you sure the chat room is done today?" She said it was definitely possible this time. But my reason prevailed over my desire, and I said we'd go another time, just to the private room today. She seemed a little disappointed but didn't say anything.
Entering the private room, we repeated our usual routine:
biting her breasts, touching her buttocks, licking her buttocks. I asked her if I could lick her genitals again. Normally, this isn't allowed here; firstly, there were no curtains, and it wouldn't be good if someone came in and saw; secondly, oral sex is considered sexual intercourse, a privilege reserved for the Chaptagne room.
But perhaps Ginger wanted to please me and get me to agree to go to the Chaptagne room, and she actually agreed to my outrageous request. She stood on the sofa and pulled her panties down halfway, so her genitals were less than a foot away from me. I used my hand to push her buttocks towards me, her genitals directly in front of my mouth and nose. I smelled that alluring, pungent scent again—so familiar, so lewd, so intoxicating… I slipped my tongue into her vagina; it tasted salty, and the fluid inside was thick. I didn't dare go too deep; it was too dirty. I felt I was already being perverted; I couldn't be so careless about hygiene. So I had her sit on my lap and bite her breasts…
By this time, I felt more than three minutes had passed. Why hadn't the genger asked if I wanted to extend the time? She wouldn't be so kind as to let me take advantage of her for free, would she? So I asked her how long we'd been doing it.
She said we'd been doing it for 15 minutes, 5 sessions, which meant $100. I immediately got angry, saying it had only been 10 minutes at most. Apparently, she was using this method to blackmail me because I wasn't going to the chatroom; no wonder she'd been so generous in letting me lick her earlier.
We arrived at the door, and I asked the burly gatekeeper how long we'd been inside. He said, "About three sessions." Luckily, this guy was fair and didn't conspire to cheat me. Seeing his response, Ginger didn't say anything. I gave her 40 dollars, since I'd already given the burly man 20 dollars when we entered.
This experience left me with a bad impression of Ginger; she was truly a femme fatale. But honestly, I didn't lose out; I actually benefited from her.
After our first time in the mall, I was captivated by her beautiful body and the alluring scent of her genitals, so I asked her if we could meet outside. She understood I meant I wanted to have sex with her. She said yes, but it would cost $300 per hour. We exchanged phone numbers, but I ultimately didn't call.
After all, 300 yuan is no small sum. There's an old saying: "That's enough to buy an Xbox 360!" With a game console, I can play however I want, whenever I want, for as long as I want, and it'll keep me entertained for years; 300 yuan for a prostitute only gives me 60 minutes of pleasure. In the long run, the enjoyment a game console can provide far surpasses that of a prostitute.
However, Ginger did call me once. I was having dinner with my wife at the time. Seeing her number startled me, and I quickly said I'd call back when I had time. Luckily, my wife didn't notice. What a close call!
*************** Chapter 2: The Seductive Harmony Harmony was also a DC dancer, white. She had a slender figure, making her appear very tall. She had firm breasts, a flat stomach, a pert butt, and shapely thighs—an almost perfect figure. She had long, flowing blonde hair, captivating almond-shaped eyes, a high nose, white teeth, red lips, and a pointed chin; her beautiful face was unforgettable.
When she went on stage, she wore a black three-piece lingerie set. The narrow bra was actually just a layer of black nylon gauze, barely covering her firm breasts. Because the bra was almost transparent, I could clearly see her white breasts and erect nipples beneath the black gauze. Her panties weren't the typical thongs worn by dancers, but rather the conservative kind that covered half her buttocks. However, because they were also made of sheer gauze, the feeling was completely different. When she stood not far from me and opened her legs, I could clearly see her trimmed pubic hair under the gauze, and vaguely make out her tightly closed labia… A customer sitting next to me, who looked Mexican, was staring intently at her.
I tapped the table in front of him and said, “This is the best of a thousand!” He smiled and nodded in agreement.
After finishing her dance, Harmony struck up a conversation with a customer. There weren't many customers at the moment, so she quickly went to the guy next to me. Judging from his Mexican attire, he didn't seem like someone who spent a lot of money, so I assumed she'd come to my table soon. But after only a few seconds of conversation, they got up and went to the premium dance room.
"Damn it, I have to wait! And I don't even know if she'll come back!" I thought irritably.
Based on my experience, a dancer here usually only hooks up with one customer at a time, and after leaving the dance room, she goes to the lounge and comes out again when it's her turn to dance. She'll be working here for several hours anyway, no need to push herself too hard.
But soon, I saw Harmony emerge from the dance room looking flustered, talking to the burly man collecting money at the door. Then the Mexican guy also came out and hurriedly left the bar without looking back.
"Oh! Something seems off," I thought.
I watched as Harmony exchanged a few words with the security guard and stormed off. As she passed me, I seized the opportunity to stop her and ask if she could sit down and talk. Her anger immediately vanished, and she sat down with a smile. I asked her what had happened.
She said, "That incident led to my drinking..." She didn't continue, perhaps embarrassed. But I already knew what she wanted to say.
I thought, "Anyone actually going to take advantage of this? Trying to rape a dancer in a private descent; this Mexican guy is definitely the first of his kind. If he hadn't run away quickly, the security guards would have chased after him and given him a beating."
I comforted her gently, and after chatting for a while, I said, "Can we have descent? If
we were, we wouldn't put out my dick." She chuckled and pulled my hand to the descent.
At the entrance, the security guard was collecting money from another couple, and we waited.
It was snowing outside, and my scarf was still around my neck. It was orange and white, and quite pretty.
Harmony pulled up my scarf and said, "You're cut." I continued to tease her, "Are you looking at my scarf?"
She smiled again, her anger completely gone.
We went into the room, found a sofa, and I helped her take off her bra, caressing her firm, white breasts, and then her buttocks and thighs through her panties. I asked her if I could bite her breasts, and she said yes, even offering her pink nipples to my lips... It was incredibly pleasurable!
I asked again, "May I touch your penis?" She thought for a moment and said,
"Okay, but you can't go inside!" I wondered, did "inside" mean inside her panties or inside her vagina? Never mind, I touched her first. So I reached down and touched her labia and clitoris through the thin fabric.
Later, I felt this wasn't enough, so I tentatively slipped my hand inside her panties. Seeing she didn't object, I continued deeper. My fingers traced her fine pubic hair, touched her clitoris, and then her labia minora. Just as I parted her labia to insert my hand into her vagina, she quickly stopped me, saying, "Is it possible you can't go inside!"
I could only stop there. But I didn't pull my hand out, continuing to touch her clitoris inside her panties. She then lifted my head and pressed it against her chest, letting me suckle her breasts. My other hand reached for her anus, stroking it through her panties, and she lifted her buttocks to avoid my intrusion.
Not yet satisfied, I wanted a second session. This time, she asked me to let go of her, turned around, and sat on my lap with her back to me. Then she bent over, hands on the ground, knees against the sofa, raised her buttocks so her thighs were touching mine, and then, supporting herself with her hands, did push-up-like movements. Her round buttocks came closer and then moved further away from my eyes, repeating this back and forth. I could see her anus, hidden under the thin fabric, appearing and disappearing with the movement of her body.
No wonder that Mexican guy couldn't resist taking out his thing earlier, and even I almost couldn't resist. This woman is fucking incredibly slutty! I ripped half of her transparent panties down (I could only rip them halfway), and then kissed her exposed snow-white buttocks wildly. She didn't stop me; instead, she let out a soul-stirring moan. But when I spread her buttocks apart to lick her anus, she suddenly pulled away. Because the movement was too fast, her whole body fell to the ground. I quickly helped her up and apologized to her. She laughed and said, "You are a bad boy!" Her laughter was filled with a lewd aura.
When she put her bra back on, I asked her if we could meet outside the bar sometime, and she said yes. I then asked her how much it cost, and she said 300; it seems that's the price for everything.
Just as I was about to return to the bar with Harmony to exchange phone numbers, she frantically rummaged through her handbag. I asked her what was wrong. She said she had lost her receipt. Before entering the premium room with a dancer, I had to pay 20 yuan to the security guard at the entrance. The guard took the money, wrote something on a roll of receipts, and kept one for himself and one for the dancer. The dancers received their commission based on the receipts when they left after their shift. If they wanted to stay longer, the extra time fee went entirely to the dancer. Although I had never asked them if this was how it worked, I understood it after observing it so many times.
I didn't know where Harmony had lost the receipt the security guard had given her. If she really lost it, she might not receive her commission for this service, meaning her first session would be for nothing, so of course she was very anxious. Seeing that I couldn't help her, I returned to my seat, and she went to the premium room to look for it herself.
After she came out, she probably forgot to tell me her phone number and went straight back to the dancers' lounge. What a pity!
But even if I got her number, I might not call her.
Then one time I saw Harmony again at DC. I was leaving the bar, and she was about to go on stage; she probably had just arrived. I greeted her, and she obviously recognized me, saying she'd come find me later. I apologized and said I had to leave, asking if she'd found the receipt from last time. She said she hadn't, but after talking to the owner, he gave her the money. We hugged, and I kissed her cheek before leaving the bar.

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