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…
6 thoughts on “Something Funky This Way Comes”
As you can see, I’m still reading your blog, and still enjoying it.
Another fraught racial issue raised by this post: how our attitudes toward race influence our preferences with respect to sexual partners. Its interesting how you toss out that comment about your own preferences: as a defense against someone thinking that Chloe might have been racist.
It brings to mind a theme of the Black Pride movement (before your time, but I assume something you are aware of). Black women, in particular, (obviously, I mean some black women) argued that, when black men showed a preference for or were attracted to white women, this revealed some self-loathing.
So, what does it mean when a black lesbian woman is “not into” black women. (oops, a little redundancy there). Does it mean that, at least in some cases, we can accept racial preferences in sexual partners as just a matter of aesthetics and taste?
Absolutely. We’re all human creatures with different tastes in relationships, food, hair styles…I’ve dated black women. There are some I find absolutely stunning. But that can be said for any race. I’m not really into blondes either, but there a few who have stopped me in my tracks with a ‘wow.’ It’s entirely based on what turns me on and what doesn’t. My first choice wouldn’t be with a black woman because I have an insatiable lust/like/love/attraction to Asian women. They fascinate me. It wasn’t a conscious choice, I just listen to my heart…:-)
When men react that way, it is said that we are responding to a different body part. Not our hearts.
That can be said for men who sleep with all kinds of different women at random, with no rhyme or reason other than to ‘hit it.’ When a man is attracted to a woman, no matter their nationality, with more than just his penis, he acts differently. He seeks to romance her rather than get her into bed. Feelings are expressed best through action and if the only action he’s trying to get across is in the bedroom, then yes, he’s reacting with his penis.
It’s so funny you mention the titles bc the other day my sister commented on that very same thing…that they crack her up. Thanks so much for reading! I enjoy writing it just as much as I enjoy reading comments. Yay!
I officially dub thee ‘Queen of the catchy titles’ 🙂
I love your posts – fact. Sorry about the creepy finger thing – and just as you were getting comfortable with your dominatrix role!