I eventually got over Theresa.  And under someone else.  It didn’t happen right away and it was a bad choice, hands down.  But it was pity sex that was cute and pathetic at the same time.  Life went on at the strip club for awhile…running shorts guy came and went a few times (figuratively, not literally – at least as far as I knew) Sometimes he took me to the champagne room, other times he took another cute black girl…always a black girl.  If I were a betting woman, I’d say he may have had a thing for a black schoolteacher who used to punish him when he acted up in class.  I don’t know, but he just got weirder and weirder.  I didn’t even think that was possible.  The last time he ever invited me into the champagne room with him proved that I still had some serious boundaries.  At least for the time being anyway.  The half hour was going along just as always – “you’ve been a very naughty boy. ‘spank’ And you deserve to be punished. ‘spank’ That’s pretty much how it went.  I didn’t really have any other material and I figured if it works, don’t fix it.

Just when I thought time was almost up, he tried something super disgusting.  Now, remember that I’m completely dressed: pantyhose, skirt, bra, heels…Up to this point I’ve given random lap dances to guys where I’ve heard the accidental ‘oh, I’m sorry, #$%^&*, I didn’t mean for my thumb to slip’ -or- ‘was I leaning too close while you were dancing with your back to me and my tongue was out?’  Yeah, he got slapped.  Or even better, a Mexican in a cowboy hat who simply turned around after I said hi, and immediately swiped my crotch like it was the most normal thing in the world.  It was fun to watch him get carried out and even more fun to watch the bouncers open the door with his head.  So, mind you I was privy to quite a bit of shenanigans with guys, but this…?

He wanted to suck my finger.  For some reason, that was the most disturbing thing to ever happen to me.  I couldn’t believe it.  Sure, I got naked for a living.  Guys saw my everything from various angles, but putting my finger in your mouth?  That was just too intimate.  That’s the kind of thing my girlfriend, if I had one, would be doing.  I’d rather have him motorboat my boobs for half an hour.  I thought about it for a few seconds, watching him relish my index finger.  I mean, his eyes were closed, he was making grunting noises and then I pulled my finger away.  He looked really hurt, like a child.  His eyes were pleading, his lips were pouting and then the embarrassment set in.  I felt bad but, a girl has to draw the line somewhere!

The half hour ended and when he left, I knew that he’d never invite me to the champagne room again.  I felt kinda bad because, in the whole scheme of things, it was an easy $200 (regular price was $3-400) but it was with my clothes on and he was just a guy with a weird fetish.  Was I just being too uptight?  I decided that I needed a night out, like a big girl…and it needed to be as gay as possible.  So my good friend decided that we should go on this lesbian night cruise.  Cool.

We got all dolled up, casual but sexy and arrived at the harbor, ready to drink and be gay.  By the time the boat took off, we were pretty excited.  I had never been on a cruise and the atmosphere was extremely jovial, there were plenty of women and even more liquor.  Perfect!  So we danced, we drank, we were flirting…it was so much fun.  Finally, we had to take a break.  While we were resting, there was a small show happening on the deck.  I’m still not sure what it was, but there was an emcee and women dancing and such.  Well, an attractive black woman asked me to dance.  I forget her name so let’s call her Lisa.  I know, sad that I don’t quite remember but, oh well.  She’s written down somewhere on my ‘list’.  Anyway, I went ahead and danced with her since she was trying so hard.  It was fun.  She had spunk, charisma and something else…was that body odor?  It was hella humid out there on the deck, mid-summer, but that’s what deodorant is for.  Finally, I insisted on sitting down, partly because I was hot and tired, but mostly because she was sweating like she had the plague and wreaked like it, too.

Unfortunately, she followed me to my seat, also where my friend was sitting.  The thing I should tell you about my friend, ‘Chloe’ and I, is that we were both extremely attracted to each other.  But because we were such good friends, we never went there except when we were intoxicated.  Needless to say, we started making out here and there, and I must admit it felt good.  Even through the searing pain of her biting the hell out of my lip over and over…it felt good.  We made plans for once we hit shore,  finally going to go for it.  We always said that, but usually fell asleep before anything really happen.  Tonight wouldn’t be any different, but in the meantime I could always count on Chloe to tell it like it is.  And she did, just as the music died down.  ‘Why are you talking to her?  She stinks!’  I sighed and tried to make excuses…the heat, the dancing…we’ve all been there at least once.  Let’s face it, I felt bad for Lisa because no woman should smell that bad across a crowded deck, but everyone’s different I guess.  I figured she was just having a bad day. Or the flu?

Lisa stayed next to me, chatting me up pretty well.  For someone who smelled so musty, she sure didn’t let it stop her game.  She brought it pretty hard.  She was the promoter for the event, she owned her own company, she lived in Orlando, blah blah blah.  Hm, that was all pretty impressive.  I decided to give her my number.  Chloe was none too pleased with my decision, of course.  Not because she was that into me, I think, but more because she felt that 1. she smelled, 2. she was more on the butch side than I cared for, and 3. she was black.

Don’t freak out.  Chloe knows me better than most and she knows…ummm, I wasn’t really into black chicks at the time.  So she wasn’t out of line, she was absolutely right.  But there was something about Lisa I could get to know.  I don’t know if it was the sea air, the drinks or her pungent odor that was messing with my head, but I kind of wanted to hear more of what she had to say.  I didn’t have to wait long.  She would.  not.  stop.  talking.  She just kept going.  And as I watched her lips blur from moving so fast, I thought, hm, I wonder what one has to do to shut her up…