Getting Clubbed, Part Two

(continued from Part One)

It was a bit dizzying to tilt my head up to watch naked body parts bouncing around over my head.  I tried to look around and take a visual break but mirrors everywhere reflected the performance.  It was better to just watch the stage with its one set of boobies instead of the 18 pairs reflected in the mirrors.

I rolled with it.  Maybe I was finally growing up.  Or maybe, more possibly, it was all the scotch I’d had.   They continued to play good music so I bopped along.  The girls were good dancers.  I noticed a few moves I wanted to try.  You know, with clothes on.  I was just starting to admire how brave they were to prance around so exposed when a soft body bumped against me.

“Hello?”  I said to no one in particular.  My scotch was still full (I was slowing down after my eighth glass) so it wasn’t the cocktail waitress.  I kept staring at the scotch like it was going to answer me when a lightly Eastern European accent informed me that the manager had sent them over to dance for me.

Wait wait wait, them??  I looked up, hoping Eastern European girl was referring to her breasts in an anthropomorphic way.  But no.  There was a second girl up there, standing silently next to her.  They were both smiling down at me while the Editrix and her friends laughed so hard that tears rolled down their faces.

Meanwhile, Eastern European and the Silent One had parted my legs and started dancing between them.  I mentally patted myself on the back for choosing the romper, which was perfect for this sort of thing.  Then they pulled their dresses off, and then all I could think was that I needed to hit the gym a helluva harder.  Holy moly, their bodies were perfect!

Then they each straddled one of my legs and started doing something like the Worm against my body.  They would swoop their bodies against mine and then slowly slide upwards against me so their chests would rub up against my face and head before they made it back up into open air where they would gyrate for a while before coming back in for another pass.  Sort of like those crazy city pigeons that almost fly into your face when you’re walking.

I worried that my necklace might hurt them.  Then I wondered if they ever injured themselves on men’s shirt buttons.  I mean.  Nipples are sensitive!  Then I started wondering how they timed themselves.  Because they alternated really well.  First, Eastern European would swoop in and mush me for a while.  Then the Silent One.  Then they’d gyrate and smile at me and lick their fingers or something.  Then it would start all over again.

I thought about making conversation but quickly realized that opening my mouth would make the encounter that much more intimate.  Plus, what would one tip for that sort of thing?  Emily Post provides zero guidance.

Maybe it was the repeated mushings or maybe the dancers were really good at putting people at ease.  I mean, there had to be male customers who were even more awkward than I was, right?  Anyway, I just stopped thinking after the first minute.  They were soft and I was comfortable once they had mushed me far enough into the couch that I just relaxed and leaned back.  They smelled nice, too.

Hey, wait.

One of them smelled like the lotion I had at home.  I tried to sniff them and figure out which one.  You’d think it would be easy since they were naked and in my face, but it was difficult because my nose was constantly squashed under one boob or another.

So there I was, nearing the end of the song when, from their point of view, I suddenly became way more interested than I had been for most of their performance.  I was lifting my head off the seat and sniffing them as they danced their chests off the top of my head, trying to catch the light scent of my lotion on one of them.  The song ended, and they looked confused but gave me a friendly smile anyway.

The Silent One hightailed it out of there.  Couldn’t say I blamed her.  Eastern European hung around a minute longer though.  Long enough for me to confirm that she was, indeed, wearing the same lotion.  I had been going around smelling like a high class stripper without knowing it.  Then she said she liked my necklace and walked away.

I waved like she was my best friend on the playground and yelled “Goodbye!”  The Editrix shook her head and told me the night was over.

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