Already I'm wondering if we'll ever talk about this. I can not imagine if, or when I should tell you about mummy's job as a stripper, or "that time way back, when I was naked quite a bit" How will it come up? What will you think? I want to be a positive role model for you today, and for the rest of your life. Am I doing that enough? Does stripping count as a positive example?
Well, I think we can all agree that a wide range of answers exists to that question.
Today I booked my train tickets to and from my next "occupational destination" A new city, new faces, new club. I'm excited and nervous. You are chasing banana peel pieces around the floor, picking one up, putting it down, choosing another and doing the same. Its fascinating to you, and its fascinating to me just to watch you do it. AC/DC's "She's Got The Jack" is playing, and you are bobbing your head to the beat. You sure are one cool kiddo, and I love you to pieces.
I hope some day we can talk candidly about this time in our lives, which I'll remember and you won't.
Thursday, 23 May 2013
Wednesday, 22 May 2013
A Stripper's Wet Dream
If money is your motivation, your buddah and your lube, then in this business, there is almost NOTHING better than a bachelor party accompanied by the organizer, and his fist-full of bills. That's what I walked into last Saturday night at 6 p.m., when all the other girls were still at home making dinner, and putting on their faces. Turns out, early pole practices really do pay off!
Courtney (Young Hopeless) proceeded to get herself "removed" from the bachelor party within the first hour. She really is hopeless. If I see her working another weekend anywhere I will be very surprised. In comparison, I was having a great time!! The men were relaxed and flirtatious, but even better, they were young, and smart! No one was drunk or lecherous, (although every group will have its "dirty boys") and they were in the palm of my hand before you could say "putty". Its hard work though, rotating between conversations, between the bachelor himself, a shy, quiet guy with a long narrow face, and his best man, the bankroll and organiser for the weekend who was a massive dickhead personality squished into a 5'8" package. Plus there's the cuter ones, (WHY are they never the bachelor???) and the ones I'd rather be talking to if given the choice because everything they say is so interesting. Its a busy start, and before I know it, 2 hours have flown by, I've made no money, but I've had a lot of fun. I pull Imagine (what a cool name, eh?) from the V.I.P. area and bring her into the party. There's no way I can handle a fantasy room with this many guys on my own, and I admire the way that girl can just keep on smiling.
Fantasy rooms rent in half hour $450 blocks, of which I see $150. Its easy money when you compare it to the amount of hours serving in a student bar you would need to put in before $150 was tipped out to you. BUT that doesn't mean its an easy half hour. It's WORK! It's physically demanding to squat, crawl, dance sexy, move sexy, be sexy and smile smile smile in a room full of seated jeans. Its mentally challenging to work over that first snag of fear and uncertainty when those panties of yours fall down past your knees. For me, its all a blur, and only a few details stand out. The bachelor seemed uncomfortable the entire time, while his best man shouted directions to his friends, and sent Imagine and I around the room with pointing sweeps of his arms, trying to orchestrate us so that each guy got equal attention. I kept track of my PC Bowler hat as it moved around the room from head to head. Allan, a married man who I bonded with over comparing wedding rings, and swapping honeymoon tales, wore joop, which hubby used to wear all the time, and triggered a heap of scent-based emotions. With twenty bodies in a room designed for about half that many, it quickly warmed up. I realized with a jolt at one point that I was really enjoying myself. And then, just like that, the controller was calling time, and the room emptied. I gathered my clothes, my props and my money, and exited stage left. $150 up, and it wasn't even 7:30.
I was buh-buh-busy after that! I had my first stage of the night, a requested duo with Courtney, and then as soon as I left that 8-song set, the owner informed me that I was booked for another bachelor party fantasy. Right away. In the bondage room.
So ummm.... this should be fairly obvious, but I'm going to say it anyway. Not all bachelor parties are filled with young hot classy male specimens. Some are quite the opposite. This was one of those ones. Luckily for me, they were also quite juvenile, and spent half the time tying each other up in the bondage gear, and taking turns spanking each other while Lacy and I watched on and pretended to be amused and thrilled. The groom to be went first, then his best man, and then we just sort of encouraged all the others to get up too... it killed the first 20 minutes. Then we tied the bachelor up and danced for him. It was easier than the first fantasy booking of the night, but so boring, and so.....unpleasant that I couldn't wait for it to be over. The owner acted as controller, and I know I shouldn't be bothered by the fact that he's male given how many dudes see me naked anyway, but I like it when the one upholding the rules of the club also has the parts you aren't supposed to touch.
What else stood out about Saturday night? Three stage performances. Some nice tippers, two proffered hotel keys, the difficulty of giving a fat man a lap dance discovered. Wraps served in the change room instead of sandwiches. My first 5 a.m. finish. Dancing the Macarena as a group onstage to end the night. Counting a WAD of 50s and 20s on my bed back home and falling asleep with it under my pillow.
Courtney (Young Hopeless) proceeded to get herself "removed" from the bachelor party within the first hour. She really is hopeless. If I see her working another weekend anywhere I will be very surprised. In comparison, I was having a great time!! The men were relaxed and flirtatious, but even better, they were young, and smart! No one was drunk or lecherous, (although every group will have its "dirty boys") and they were in the palm of my hand before you could say "putty". Its hard work though, rotating between conversations, between the bachelor himself, a shy, quiet guy with a long narrow face, and his best man, the bankroll and organiser for the weekend who was a massive dickhead personality squished into a 5'8" package. Plus there's the cuter ones, (WHY are they never the bachelor???) and the ones I'd rather be talking to if given the choice because everything they say is so interesting. Its a busy start, and before I know it, 2 hours have flown by, I've made no money, but I've had a lot of fun. I pull Imagine (what a cool name, eh?) from the V.I.P. area and bring her into the party. There's no way I can handle a fantasy room with this many guys on my own, and I admire the way that girl can just keep on smiling.
Fantasy rooms rent in half hour $450 blocks, of which I see $150. Its easy money when you compare it to the amount of hours serving in a student bar you would need to put in before $150 was tipped out to you. BUT that doesn't mean its an easy half hour. It's WORK! It's physically demanding to squat, crawl, dance sexy, move sexy, be sexy and smile smile smile in a room full of seated jeans. Its mentally challenging to work over that first snag of fear and uncertainty when those panties of yours fall down past your knees. For me, its all a blur, and only a few details stand out. The bachelor seemed uncomfortable the entire time, while his best man shouted directions to his friends, and sent Imagine and I around the room with pointing sweeps of his arms, trying to orchestrate us so that each guy got equal attention. I kept track of my PC Bowler hat as it moved around the room from head to head. Allan, a married man who I bonded with over comparing wedding rings, and swapping honeymoon tales, wore joop, which hubby used to wear all the time, and triggered a heap of scent-based emotions. With twenty bodies in a room designed for about half that many, it quickly warmed up. I realized with a jolt at one point that I was really enjoying myself. And then, just like that, the controller was calling time, and the room emptied. I gathered my clothes, my props and my money, and exited stage left. $150 up, and it wasn't even 7:30.
I was buh-buh-busy after that! I had my first stage of the night, a requested duo with Courtney, and then as soon as I left that 8-song set, the owner informed me that I was booked for another bachelor party fantasy. Right away. In the bondage room.
So ummm.... this should be fairly obvious, but I'm going to say it anyway. Not all bachelor parties are filled with young hot classy male specimens. Some are quite the opposite. This was one of those ones. Luckily for me, they were also quite juvenile, and spent half the time tying each other up in the bondage gear, and taking turns spanking each other while Lacy and I watched on and pretended to be amused and thrilled. The groom to be went first, then his best man, and then we just sort of encouraged all the others to get up too... it killed the first 20 minutes. Then we tied the bachelor up and danced for him. It was easier than the first fantasy booking of the night, but so boring, and so.....unpleasant that I couldn't wait for it to be over. The owner acted as controller, and I know I shouldn't be bothered by the fact that he's male given how many dudes see me naked anyway, but I like it when the one upholding the rules of the club also has the parts you aren't supposed to touch.
What else stood out about Saturday night? Three stage performances. Some nice tippers, two proffered hotel keys, the difficulty of giving a fat man a lap dance discovered. Wraps served in the change room instead of sandwiches. My first 5 a.m. finish. Dancing the Macarena as a group onstage to end the night. Counting a WAD of 50s and 20s on my bed back home and falling asleep with it under my pillow.
Monday, 20 May 2013
Sweet, sweet, sexy Saturdays
I might not always like Saturdays in this business. I could end up hating them, become jaded or just plain sick of the scene's music. But for now, based on this most recent Satruday night, I kind of fucking love them.
I decided to go in two hours early to practice some new moves and transitions on the big stage, and help courtney (aka young hopeless) learn how to do something....anything. The stage was dark, the red lights switched off and the music system silent. It was just courtney and I, and the occasional manager or security guard drifted by. A downtown Irish bartender with a thick brogue stopped by for a chat. At 6:00, Boss Lady Number Two came rushing up the stairs, and in a rapid fire panic mode, said the best line I've heard in awhile:
"I have a 25 person bachelor party downstairs arriving now, and we need you two to cover it"
So much for pre-shift practice, but hot damn thank you God YES!
I could write a shit tonne about that first group. You know what? I think I will. Tomorrow though. I have to eat my boiled eggs (craving something weird at 10 p.m. much?) now, and then go to bed. Presley has been at the hospital today, and is one sick little monkey, so I should take whatever sleep I can get. Its been a crazy stressful day, but the best part was having Hubs by my side the entire time. He has been such a rock lately!! Tonight the three of us cuddled on the couch and watched a David Attenborough special together, roughly the same time as I was being showered with twenties two nights previously as I jiggly-wiggled my way around stage. I know which one of those two is my favourite experience. 100%.
I decided to go in two hours early to practice some new moves and transitions on the big stage, and help courtney (aka young hopeless) learn how to do something....anything. The stage was dark, the red lights switched off and the music system silent. It was just courtney and I, and the occasional manager or security guard drifted by. A downtown Irish bartender with a thick brogue stopped by for a chat. At 6:00, Boss Lady Number Two came rushing up the stairs, and in a rapid fire panic mode, said the best line I've heard in awhile:
"I have a 25 person bachelor party downstairs arriving now, and we need you two to cover it"
So much for pre-shift practice, but hot damn thank you God YES!
I could write a shit tonne about that first group. You know what? I think I will. Tomorrow though. I have to eat my boiled eggs (craving something weird at 10 p.m. much?) now, and then go to bed. Presley has been at the hospital today, and is one sick little monkey, so I should take whatever sleep I can get. Its been a crazy stressful day, but the best part was having Hubs by my side the entire time. He has been such a rock lately!! Tonight the three of us cuddled on the couch and watched a David Attenborough special together, roughly the same time as I was being showered with twenties two nights previously as I jiggly-wiggled my way around stage. I know which one of those two is my favourite experience. 100%.
Sunday, 19 May 2013
Workin Woman
And thus ends my first full weekend as an employed young lady since the fall of 2011. Hubby had Presley at home, and I worked Thursday, Friday, Saturday at the club. Apparantly it was a slow week, but I still made over $1,800. Not too shabby considering my last job was a serving gig where I would be lucky to make $400 in wages and tips over a weekend. If being naked a small portion of the time, and assessed on my looks and conversational abilities instead of my drink carrying/ order remembering skills means I make $1,400 more for WAY less effort, I'll take it.
There's some stuff I want to get down here. I suppose I should do it chronologically.
Thursday morning I caught the bus into the city. It only took an hour and a half. I slept most of the way, so it felt like 5 minutes. I think I'll be using the bus more often. It only costs $31, which is not much more than fuel for our gas guzzling turbo machine.
The house was pretty quiet this week. We had our regular "house mom", the stereotypical 40-something stripper who is still pretty and slim, but has a tired voice and jaded eyes. The two other quality private rooms were occupied by Germans "twins" and a girl from London, England. That put me in the basement dorm bunkbeds, next to the washer and dryer. Again. I don't mind though, since I'm still really new and untested. Its part of my long-term goal to get the Londonite's room. Right next to the main bathroom, with a private balcony and a big chunky timber bed that just whispers "lay here and sleep all day, darling" its the best one for a solo girl, I think.
The club was pretty dead again this Thursday. The only reason I made any money at all was because the self-declared "awesome", "special" "all-round great guy" multi-millionaire (the last bit is the only part I believe) bought 3/4 of an hour with me. After kicking a ridiculous amount to the club, I still made $360 off of that. I''ll tell you what, you can put on as much makeup as you like, and wear the sexiest stuff, but nothing gives the same confidence as having already made lots of money early on. It keeps the desperate out of your voice. After that, a couple of lucky one-offs and a duo dance with the Brit, plus my stage tips brought my total up to well over $600. I tipped the MC $20 (unnecessary, but I find it helpful to have the dj as a friend), paid my $120 in rent, and still left with the most money of all the girls there. After only making $150 last week, it was a nice feeling to start off successful.
I spent nearly all of my Thursday night earnings on underwear and jewelery the next day. But hey, quality knickers are an investment in this business, and the confidence they give you can't be measured in dollars. I spent Friday night in a Playboy set with thigh high fishnets, and made $800 even though we closed early due to NO customers after 3 a.m. Is this because of quality underwear? I think at least partially.
Friday was an interesting night, actually. I met, charmed, and danced for some memorable people. I had my first couple in together for a set, which costs WAAAY more than a single, and is WAAAY less work. These two were, anyway. The guy didn't want any attention; he wanted to watch me seduce his wife. I find these married ladies to be much more gentle than men, and she was very appreciative as well, so this was simply a pleasure dance for me. Every once in awhile, they would stop watching me, and just kiss for a few seconds. Dirty, slobbery, with tongue and noises. It was pretty intense. I didn't really care though, because it gave me a chance to rest for a moment. 5 songs later, they were on their merry way, promising to come back in a month or so to see me again. Walking as slowly as possible, across to the side exit, and back out onto the floor, I wondered whether they would go straight home for sex now, or off to another bar or strip club first. Either way, I'm pretty sure I was in bed with those two in their fantasy land later on. Reminded me of Hubs and myself, only older.
I also met and landed my first quadrant. I'm not sure if thats the official stripper lingo for a pack of four men, but that's what I call the group if I manage to dance for all of them over the course of the night. They were four work mates. I'm amazed at how four such different personalities get along well enough to call each other "mates", but maybe....work commonalities? beer? There was the gentle, reluctant divorcee who was bought a lap dance by someone else and refused to watch me dance at all in the private room. Instead, he insisted on my sitting across from him and discussing frankly and professionally, my business goals and life plan. I found myself telling him about Presley. He told me about work/family balances, mistakes he made, and reminded me that no matter what, the little Prez bundle is Numero Uno. He ended up extending his time voluntarily, and we talked some more. The man who bought him these dances? A married stubbie-shaped dude with a two-year old son, who regularly emotionally cheats on his wife via the internet, and is desperate to sleep with a man, although he keeps it secret. Its a mad world. The other two were younger, dirtier (or maybe just drunker, since I didn't get around to them until almost midnight) and much more like our average customer. I don't even remember a single thing I talked about with either of those two. 75% of it was probably bullshit.
Super-awesome-multi-millionarie dude came back again. I weighed the pros and cons of dancing for him again, and decided that my quadrant had given me enough moolah that I wouldn't have to be near his stinky cigarette breath on this particular evening. I went on stage twice, and enjoyed my first "full-house" where all the seats around the stage were full of rowdy, appreciative tippers and I don't know what I enjoyed more: the money, or the cheering and the name chanting. Its nice to be good at the dancing part. I was glad I came in early and practiced a couple of new moves with Veronica, and doubly glad I'd changed my music. I just can't be sexy to the house dance stuff, ay. Its rock or R&B for me, baby.
I called every single one of the customers baby or darling or sweetheart, or something like that. Its just way easier than remembering names, and it comes across nice and friendly. I fluttered my eyelashes until I gave myself muscle spasms. I laughed at things that I did NOT think were clever or funny in the least, and I practiced letting the sour smell of liquor breath wash over me without dropping my smile. That last one is pretty difficult, not gonna lie. I was too focussed on hustling to notice the other girls discussing how dead it was, and I was shocked when they turned the lights on at 3:30 instead of 5. It was half a pleasant surprise though, because I had been aware that I was losing energy and bounce by then, and trying to decide if a red bull was a good idea. I made $740, and smiled all the way home.
Saturday was pedicure day. Gawd, that process is enshrined in my top-10 experiences post-baby. Nothing is more indulgent than wandering the harbour-front streets aimlessly window shopping until you find a suitable day spa, and splurging on a little self-spoilage. I left an hour later with fire engine red toe nails and happy little feets. You can't do that sort of thing with bubs in tow.
I knew that Saturday night was supposed to be much busier, so I spent the rest of Saturday relaxing, dozing, stretching, bathing, applying makeup, and generally revelling in my sweet sweet free time.
Saturday night is a post in its own right, and the baby is awake and trying to grab the keys, which makes typing difficult. I'll finish off recording this weekend once the house is asleep tonight.
There's some stuff I want to get down here. I suppose I should do it chronologically.
Thursday morning I caught the bus into the city. It only took an hour and a half. I slept most of the way, so it felt like 5 minutes. I think I'll be using the bus more often. It only costs $31, which is not much more than fuel for our gas guzzling turbo machine.
The house was pretty quiet this week. We had our regular "house mom", the stereotypical 40-something stripper who is still pretty and slim, but has a tired voice and jaded eyes. The two other quality private rooms were occupied by Germans "twins" and a girl from London, England. That put me in the basement dorm bunkbeds, next to the washer and dryer. Again. I don't mind though, since I'm still really new and untested. Its part of my long-term goal to get the Londonite's room. Right next to the main bathroom, with a private balcony and a big chunky timber bed that just whispers "lay here and sleep all day, darling" its the best one for a solo girl, I think.
The club was pretty dead again this Thursday. The only reason I made any money at all was because the self-declared "awesome", "special" "all-round great guy" multi-millionaire (the last bit is the only part I believe) bought 3/4 of an hour with me. After kicking a ridiculous amount to the club, I still made $360 off of that. I''ll tell you what, you can put on as much makeup as you like, and wear the sexiest stuff, but nothing gives the same confidence as having already made lots of money early on. It keeps the desperate out of your voice. After that, a couple of lucky one-offs and a duo dance with the Brit, plus my stage tips brought my total up to well over $600. I tipped the MC $20 (unnecessary, but I find it helpful to have the dj as a friend), paid my $120 in rent, and still left with the most money of all the girls there. After only making $150 last week, it was a nice feeling to start off successful.
I spent nearly all of my Thursday night earnings on underwear and jewelery the next day. But hey, quality knickers are an investment in this business, and the confidence they give you can't be measured in dollars. I spent Friday night in a Playboy set with thigh high fishnets, and made $800 even though we closed early due to NO customers after 3 a.m. Is this because of quality underwear? I think at least partially.
Friday was an interesting night, actually. I met, charmed, and danced for some memorable people. I had my first couple in together for a set, which costs WAAAY more than a single, and is WAAAY less work. These two were, anyway. The guy didn't want any attention; he wanted to watch me seduce his wife. I find these married ladies to be much more gentle than men, and she was very appreciative as well, so this was simply a pleasure dance for me. Every once in awhile, they would stop watching me, and just kiss for a few seconds. Dirty, slobbery, with tongue and noises. It was pretty intense. I didn't really care though, because it gave me a chance to rest for a moment. 5 songs later, they were on their merry way, promising to come back in a month or so to see me again. Walking as slowly as possible, across to the side exit, and back out onto the floor, I wondered whether they would go straight home for sex now, or off to another bar or strip club first. Either way, I'm pretty sure I was in bed with those two in their fantasy land later on. Reminded me of Hubs and myself, only older.
I also met and landed my first quadrant. I'm not sure if thats the official stripper lingo for a pack of four men, but that's what I call the group if I manage to dance for all of them over the course of the night. They were four work mates. I'm amazed at how four such different personalities get along well enough to call each other "mates", but maybe....work commonalities? beer? There was the gentle, reluctant divorcee who was bought a lap dance by someone else and refused to watch me dance at all in the private room. Instead, he insisted on my sitting across from him and discussing frankly and professionally, my business goals and life plan. I found myself telling him about Presley. He told me about work/family balances, mistakes he made, and reminded me that no matter what, the little Prez bundle is Numero Uno. He ended up extending his time voluntarily, and we talked some more. The man who bought him these dances? A married stubbie-shaped dude with a two-year old son, who regularly emotionally cheats on his wife via the internet, and is desperate to sleep with a man, although he keeps it secret. Its a mad world. The other two were younger, dirtier (or maybe just drunker, since I didn't get around to them until almost midnight) and much more like our average customer. I don't even remember a single thing I talked about with either of those two. 75% of it was probably bullshit.
Super-awesome-multi-millionarie dude came back again. I weighed the pros and cons of dancing for him again, and decided that my quadrant had given me enough moolah that I wouldn't have to be near his stinky cigarette breath on this particular evening. I went on stage twice, and enjoyed my first "full-house" where all the seats around the stage were full of rowdy, appreciative tippers and I don't know what I enjoyed more: the money, or the cheering and the name chanting. Its nice to be good at the dancing part. I was glad I came in early and practiced a couple of new moves with Veronica, and doubly glad I'd changed my music. I just can't be sexy to the house dance stuff, ay. Its rock or R&B for me, baby.
I called every single one of the customers baby or darling or sweetheart, or something like that. Its just way easier than remembering names, and it comes across nice and friendly. I fluttered my eyelashes until I gave myself muscle spasms. I laughed at things that I did NOT think were clever or funny in the least, and I practiced letting the sour smell of liquor breath wash over me without dropping my smile. That last one is pretty difficult, not gonna lie. I was too focussed on hustling to notice the other girls discussing how dead it was, and I was shocked when they turned the lights on at 3:30 instead of 5. It was half a pleasant surprise though, because I had been aware that I was losing energy and bounce by then, and trying to decide if a red bull was a good idea. I made $740, and smiled all the way home.
Saturday was pedicure day. Gawd, that process is enshrined in my top-10 experiences post-baby. Nothing is more indulgent than wandering the harbour-front streets aimlessly window shopping until you find a suitable day spa, and splurging on a little self-spoilage. I left an hour later with fire engine red toe nails and happy little feets. You can't do that sort of thing with bubs in tow.
I knew that Saturday night was supposed to be much busier, so I spent the rest of Saturday relaxing, dozing, stretching, bathing, applying makeup, and generally revelling in my sweet sweet free time.
Saturday night is a post in its own right, and the baby is awake and trying to grab the keys, which makes typing difficult. I'll finish off recording this weekend once the house is asleep tonight.
Sunday, 12 May 2013
Part III of the Epic Weekend Story
Its late in the evening of Mother's Day, but I'm milking it to the end. I'm staying up late, even though Hubby's already slouched off to bed. I'm enjoying solo internet/computer DOMINATION. Mwahaha.
Now to finish my foursome story. Where were we?
Oh yes. The strip club.
And THEN, while the four of us were trying to decide who was going to get a round of drinks, and who was going to sit here and stare at the ladies being all raunchy with some guy's head and his twenty dollar bill, Hubby runs into a girl he used to go to high school with. She works here now. I admire her sparkly g-string/garter belt combo. We are introduced to her GI Jane "girlfriend" (may or may not be legit). A 6' mountain of a woman with bazooka coconuts right at nose height. I was intimidated as hell and hubby said later that he was too.
All in all it wasn't our scene. We left without buying a lap dance, or talking to any of the girls at all. I don't think I'd need to ask many questions though. The set up and the behaviour on stage said enough. And if I'm really curious, I did see a girl working there who I met at the other club the night before, so I can ask her in a few week's time. Hmmm.... I'm pretty sure that's a contract no-no. Wonder if its something the don't enact, like the dress code, or something they do like Strip-O-Rama, (or whatever that stupid 1:00 a.m. group strip thing is called.)
But I digress. We poured out of the club and back on to the streets. Ever notice how much louder the place is at night? Drunks are looouuudd. Street fights are loud. A half dozen police officers running towards a certain club all at once? Also loud. It was pretty chaotic compared to the sleepy town we call home, but nice to experience. Our hotel was a mere 400 meters away, and what mysteries and excitement awaited there! There was quite a bit of sexual tension in that walk.
The lobby, the elevator, the door key and the green light. Green lights mean go. I was actually giddy, and also felt wildly predatorial. Like we'd just managed to lure prey within our grasp. Of course I did not say this out loud. Good grief, NO! Besides, Hubby was talking a mile a minute. I didn't actually say much at all.
Hey, here's something I've learned the hard way: The first couple seconds, even the first few minutes that you really break the ice are always awkward. But then it gets much, much better.
I am still grappling with how much detail to go into on this space. For now I'll say that I was extremely pleasantly surprised by how natural swapping, sharing a different partner each felt for hubby and me. I thought everyone involved would be more unsure but sex is like molasses, and at the right tempurature, everything just flowed, sticky and sweet.
There are a LOT of position possibilities with four uninhibited individuals involved. One could die of exhaustion before getting bored!
If I ever get into shooting porn, *majorly unrealistic life-plan-goal alert* I only wanna shoot group sex and orgies. mkay?
The rest is pretty cuddly and boring and I won't get into details. I don't know if we will uh, engage in similar activities with that couple again or not. I know we will stay friends though, and that's really the point. We're firmly entrenched back into reality now, with our dustbowl town, and our little 3 person family. Today we hung out and celebrated mother's day by staying in pjs until noon and playing a lot of silly peek-a-boo and tickle games. Presley is pulling up to standing and saying bay-bee, da-duh and ma-ma, but I'm not sure he knows who is who. It was lazy and wonderful.
Prez, by the way, handled the two night separation from me like a CHAMP! I was the anxious mummy with a frustratingly regular baby alarm malfunction. Know the type? I will explain.
You are somewhere without your baby. Someone else is watching it for a while. You are FREEEEE!!!
Ten minutes into your coffee, your book, your catch up with your best buddy, or your blissful nap, your brain will scream at you
CHECK THE BABY!!!
And its like your brain has a one second lag before you can remember you don't have the baby with you and you aren't currently responsible for him or her at all. Its a very confused, panicky second. And it happens every 15 minutes or so for the first little while.
I had a hard time adjusting at first. But the second night was much easier. I had hubby with me, and he brought a phone loaded with cute videos of Prez dancing. We watched them 5 times like the lamos that we are. Taz showed them to everyone we met all night. Chicks dig it. ;-)
Alright. I'm going to end this post now so I can write about other things. Some new and exciting things happening this week. Presley entered day care and spent her first full day there on Friday. That frees me up to go back to the club this week coming up, on Thursday and Friday and Saturday. Three nights away. But we need the money. The sooner we don't rent anymore the happier I will be.
Besides, if I'm being honest with myself, I've missed clubs. I have missed the nightlife, period. Motherhood curbed a lot of opportunities I was only beginning to explore and now that baby is getting older and we are settled and sorted, I'm ready to back out there. More than ready!
Just hope to GOD I don't get pregnant again anytime soon. Fingers crossed.
Now to finish my foursome story. Where were we?
Oh yes. The strip club.
And THEN, while the four of us were trying to decide who was going to get a round of drinks, and who was going to sit here and stare at the ladies being all raunchy with some guy's head and his twenty dollar bill, Hubby runs into a girl he used to go to high school with. She works here now. I admire her sparkly g-string/garter belt combo. We are introduced to her GI Jane "girlfriend" (may or may not be legit). A 6' mountain of a woman with bazooka coconuts right at nose height. I was intimidated as hell and hubby said later that he was too.
All in all it wasn't our scene. We left without buying a lap dance, or talking to any of the girls at all. I don't think I'd need to ask many questions though. The set up and the behaviour on stage said enough. And if I'm really curious, I did see a girl working there who I met at the other club the night before, so I can ask her in a few week's time. Hmmm.... I'm pretty sure that's a contract no-no. Wonder if its something the don't enact, like the dress code, or something they do like Strip-O-Rama, (or whatever that stupid 1:00 a.m. group strip thing is called.)
But I digress. We poured out of the club and back on to the streets. Ever notice how much louder the place is at night? Drunks are looouuudd. Street fights are loud. A half dozen police officers running towards a certain club all at once? Also loud. It was pretty chaotic compared to the sleepy town we call home, but nice to experience. Our hotel was a mere 400 meters away, and what mysteries and excitement awaited there! There was quite a bit of sexual tension in that walk.
The lobby, the elevator, the door key and the green light. Green lights mean go. I was actually giddy, and also felt wildly predatorial. Like we'd just managed to lure prey within our grasp. Of course I did not say this out loud. Good grief, NO! Besides, Hubby was talking a mile a minute. I didn't actually say much at all.
Hey, here's something I've learned the hard way: The first couple seconds, even the first few minutes that you really break the ice are always awkward. But then it gets much, much better.
I am still grappling with how much detail to go into on this space. For now I'll say that I was extremely pleasantly surprised by how natural swapping, sharing a different partner each felt for hubby and me. I thought everyone involved would be more unsure but sex is like molasses, and at the right tempurature, everything just flowed, sticky and sweet.
There are a LOT of position possibilities with four uninhibited individuals involved. One could die of exhaustion before getting bored!
If I ever get into shooting porn, *majorly unrealistic life-plan-goal alert* I only wanna shoot group sex and orgies. mkay?
The rest is pretty cuddly and boring and I won't get into details. I don't know if we will uh, engage in similar activities with that couple again or not. I know we will stay friends though, and that's really the point. We're firmly entrenched back into reality now, with our dustbowl town, and our little 3 person family. Today we hung out and celebrated mother's day by staying in pjs until noon and playing a lot of silly peek-a-boo and tickle games. Presley is pulling up to standing and saying bay-bee, da-duh and ma-ma, but I'm not sure he knows who is who. It was lazy and wonderful.
Prez, by the way, handled the two night separation from me like a CHAMP! I was the anxious mummy with a frustratingly regular baby alarm malfunction. Know the type? I will explain.
You are somewhere without your baby. Someone else is watching it for a while. You are FREEEEE!!!
Ten minutes into your coffee, your book, your catch up with your best buddy, or your blissful nap, your brain will scream at you
CHECK THE BABY!!!
And its like your brain has a one second lag before you can remember you don't have the baby with you and you aren't currently responsible for him or her at all. Its a very confused, panicky second. And it happens every 15 minutes or so for the first little while.
I had a hard time adjusting at first. But the second night was much easier. I had hubby with me, and he brought a phone loaded with cute videos of Prez dancing. We watched them 5 times like the lamos that we are. Taz showed them to everyone we met all night. Chicks dig it. ;-)
Alright. I'm going to end this post now so I can write about other things. Some new and exciting things happening this week. Presley entered day care and spent her first full day there on Friday. That frees me up to go back to the club this week coming up, on Thursday and Friday and Saturday. Three nights away. But we need the money. The sooner we don't rent anymore the happier I will be.
Besides, if I'm being honest with myself, I've missed clubs. I have missed the nightlife, period. Motherhood curbed a lot of opportunities I was only beginning to explore and now that baby is getting older and we are settled and sorted, I'm ready to back out there. More than ready!
Just hope to GOD I don't get pregnant again anytime soon. Fingers crossed.
Thursday, 9 May 2013
What A Start, Continued
We decided to stay at the uni bar until at least 12:30, because Oliver couldn't come with us anywhere else that night, and we wanted to visit with him. I met one of his roomates, an international student here on a student visa. Him and his girlfriend chatted with us for a bit, and then they caught the bus into town. I'd heard it was a 45 minute ride. Been there, done that as a student. Now, as an interloper/oldie at a uni bar, I think I'll splurge on a cab thanks.
The first half a pill did nothing, I'm pretty sure. Oliver explains that most people "double drop" whereas I half-dropped. Taz gave me another half a pill and his practically empty budweiser bottle. I carried both off to the bathroom. Once again, I think I was the only girl in there alone. I sat on the toilet for a while after swallowing the pill, not really needing to pee, but not wanting to pop in and out of the toilet cubicle in under thirty seconds. Conversations washed under the partitioning walls, meant for ears on either side of me. Drunk laughter bounced off the mirrors.
I think that was the point I started to notice the effect of the x. Haha.
The cab ride was random because we rode with a handful of people we met at the taxi stand, to save money on cab fare. I stared out the window and clenched and unclenched my jaw, and didn't attempt to participate in the conversation at all. I have to say, I enjoyed myself the entire ride.
The strip was busy, and the Red Bull was packed!! I don't know how, but we managed to find Oliver's roomate (who now needs a name for the first time... I'll call him Tom, and his girlfriend Crystal) Yeah. Tom and Crystal just sort of popped up near the bathroom, and we all grabbed drinks, and a table on the upper balcony.
We've never arranged a foursome before. Its always been us and another girl. Since I met hubby, I've slept with three other girls, but not a single other dude. I wanted that to change!! Its no fun being bisexual if we only ever include other women! Conversation quickly turned to sex, as it seems to do around us. It took us less than 5 minutes to have them both on board. Good thing too, because out of nowhere, a bouncer appeared and told Tom that he had to leave. I have no idea why, since the four of us were just sitting there talking. Working in clubs all over the world, I have never seen a more innocuous customer kicked out of a club. All four of us left.
Where to go at 2:30 a.m? Why, the strip club, of course. But not the one I worked at the night before. I wanted to check out the competition/alternate place of employment down the road. I've heard rumours about the place, and not all of them were positive. But you never know.....
This time, the rumours were true. I saw more trashy pussy spread buck naked on the stage for free in that club in half an hour than I have ever seen anywhere else in an entire night!!! *shudder* No way could I work there.... I might be working in a morally questionable environment, but dammit, if you wanna see the pink, you PAY for it!
Surprise, surprise, I'm needed urgently in the baby department. I'll have to make a part Three later.
Mwah! xoxo
The first half a pill did nothing, I'm pretty sure. Oliver explains that most people "double drop" whereas I half-dropped. Taz gave me another half a pill and his practically empty budweiser bottle. I carried both off to the bathroom. Once again, I think I was the only girl in there alone. I sat on the toilet for a while after swallowing the pill, not really needing to pee, but not wanting to pop in and out of the toilet cubicle in under thirty seconds. Conversations washed under the partitioning walls, meant for ears on either side of me. Drunk laughter bounced off the mirrors.
I think that was the point I started to notice the effect of the x. Haha.
The cab ride was random because we rode with a handful of people we met at the taxi stand, to save money on cab fare. I stared out the window and clenched and unclenched my jaw, and didn't attempt to participate in the conversation at all. I have to say, I enjoyed myself the entire ride.
The strip was busy, and the Red Bull was packed!! I don't know how, but we managed to find Oliver's roomate (who now needs a name for the first time... I'll call him Tom, and his girlfriend Crystal) Yeah. Tom and Crystal just sort of popped up near the bathroom, and we all grabbed drinks, and a table on the upper balcony.
We've never arranged a foursome before. Its always been us and another girl. Since I met hubby, I've slept with three other girls, but not a single other dude. I wanted that to change!! Its no fun being bisexual if we only ever include other women! Conversation quickly turned to sex, as it seems to do around us. It took us less than 5 minutes to have them both on board. Good thing too, because out of nowhere, a bouncer appeared and told Tom that he had to leave. I have no idea why, since the four of us were just sitting there talking. Working in clubs all over the world, I have never seen a more innocuous customer kicked out of a club. All four of us left.
Where to go at 2:30 a.m? Why, the strip club, of course. But not the one I worked at the night before. I wanted to check out the competition/alternate place of employment down the road. I've heard rumours about the place, and not all of them were positive. But you never know.....
This time, the rumours were true. I saw more trashy pussy spread buck naked on the stage for free in that club in half an hour than I have ever seen anywhere else in an entire night!!! *shudder* No way could I work there.... I might be working in a morally questionable environment, but dammit, if you wanna see the pink, you PAY for it!
Surprise, surprise, I'm needed urgently in the baby department. I'll have to make a part Three later.
Mwah! xoxo
Sunday, 5 May 2013
What A Start
We are sitting at the end of an EPIC weekend, watching footy on the television and Pres scoot around the livingroom, more mobile than ever. This is as relaxed as we've been the last 4 days. Little miss spent her first overnight away with friends, and from all reports, she had a blast. Hubs and I had an adult away SPREE and I got back into stripping at a club in a nearby city/town. Yup. My first night away from the Prezler and I spent it in my next-to-nothin sexies and back on the poles with the mirrors smudged with fingers and ass cheek prints, and the couches that smelled like beer. I was excited to be back, repulsed by the same things I always was, and more than anything, I was SO SO tired!!! By 3 a.m. I wanted to cry I was so exhausted. I forgot what 7 hours in high heels feels like. The money was shit, but I planned to take Friday night off with hubby on the town, and then work Saturday.
That didn't happen.
Friday went like this:
--"sleep in" until 9 a.m. After 5 1/2 hours, I feel like a nocturnal animal being forced awake during the daylight. I wanted to sleep, but there was no way it was happening.
--"Breakfast" at a coffee bar without the baby. I even had time for the second coffee I so desperatly needed. I didn't realize they serve pancakes with ice cream over here. Weird.
--Check into the hotel room, with its King-size bed and balcony overlooking the water. I'm surprised by how nice it is for what we paid. Gotta love big town/small city atmosphere.
--Adult time. :-) Then, a very enjoyable adult nap. Only new parents can appreciate how wonderful an uninterrupted afternoon nap can be.
--Happy hour drinks at a waterfront pub
--Hubby's friend / our tour guide arrives. We pile into his suspiciously lemon-y magna, and drive off to a house party. Hubs decides to just drink for now. I smoke half a joint and tuck the rest in my handbag.
The first house was stunning. A wide sweeping patio overlooking the water, and chairs full of people. A lot of strangers, but in no time quite a few were chatting happily away in a circle with me, discussing everything from immigration to drugs, mother in law stories to local restaurant reviews. After 6 months in a small town with small town people and small town talk, it was refreshing to meet new faces.
It still tickles me to be introduced as someone's wife. I wonder when that starts to feel normal? I know that hubby and I are not exactly the poster-people for a standard, monogamous marriage. Then again, I have to remind myself that the vast majority of 22 year olds are still single/exploring the idea of a full-time partner. There wasn't another 22 year old married mother in the room to compare myself with. In fact, I didn't meet one all weekend.
We left, and drove to hubby's friend's house. I'm going to call him Oliver I think. Oliver lives in student housing, which I was happy to discover looks the same as back home. Put 4 young bachelors in one house and of course you have more pet reptiles than clean cups! The boy had some awesome snakes though! I think I want a snake now.
Oliver had a shower and shaved, which took longer than it takes me. Hubby paced, impatient to be started off to town. Oliver produced from nowhere a bag of ecstacy, and he and hubs crushed and snorted a pill in front of me. I'd never seen anything done like that before, although I'd heard about it many a time from hubby recounting his younger days. (This is the first time I've seen ecstacy since the winter of 2010/2011 and that was such a shit experience that I never wanted to touch the stuff again) But the night held such mystery, and potential and best of all, no tiny loving whack of responsibility in the morning, so I swallowed half a pill in a mouthful of spiced rum and soda, and we all got back into Oliver's car.
The second house party was at another uni house. One of the young guys there knew Hubs from years ago, and his girlfriend was really nice. We didn't stay long because by then both Hubby and Oliver were starting to act like they'd just snorted something (surprise, surprise) so we all just kind of jumped up and left. We told the nice people there that we'd see them at the uni bar.
From there the night kind of took off. One of the best things about Hubs and I is that we can go to a party together, and still be together, but be on opposite sides of a party. We sort of circulate every once in a while to check in, but I swear, sometimes it feels like the lyrics from that overplayed "Bad Girlfriend"
Come together, leave alone
See you later back at home
Hubs liked the dance beats but I had a blast sitting outside on the picnic tables chatting with whoever. There was a live band playing covers in the corner, and people started pouring in shortly after we arrived. Moths to a flame in a courting dance. I told Oliver we were looking for a blond. Did he know any blond girls?f
I have to go make Presley's dinner up now. I'll have to continue this later
That didn't happen.
Friday went like this:
--"sleep in" until 9 a.m. After 5 1/2 hours, I feel like a nocturnal animal being forced awake during the daylight. I wanted to sleep, but there was no way it was happening.
- on a side note: I never gave much thought to staying in "dancer's accommodation" before this weekend but holy hell, there is a LOT of skin walking around that place! I still have to get used to having casual conversation with the chick who's noncholantly getting undressed in front of me. I told hubby that given the price, I wouldn't mind staying there from now on. ;-)
--"Breakfast" at a coffee bar without the baby. I even had time for the second coffee I so desperatly needed. I didn't realize they serve pancakes with ice cream over here. Weird.
--Check into the hotel room, with its King-size bed and balcony overlooking the water. I'm surprised by how nice it is for what we paid. Gotta love big town/small city atmosphere.
--Adult time. :-) Then, a very enjoyable adult nap. Only new parents can appreciate how wonderful an uninterrupted afternoon nap can be.
--Happy hour drinks at a waterfront pub
--Hubby's friend / our tour guide arrives. We pile into his suspiciously lemon-y magna, and drive off to a house party. Hubs decides to just drink for now. I smoke half a joint and tuck the rest in my handbag.
The first house was stunning. A wide sweeping patio overlooking the water, and chairs full of people. A lot of strangers, but in no time quite a few were chatting happily away in a circle with me, discussing everything from immigration to drugs, mother in law stories to local restaurant reviews. After 6 months in a small town with small town people and small town talk, it was refreshing to meet new faces.
It still tickles me to be introduced as someone's wife. I wonder when that starts to feel normal? I know that hubby and I are not exactly the poster-people for a standard, monogamous marriage. Then again, I have to remind myself that the vast majority of 22 year olds are still single/exploring the idea of a full-time partner. There wasn't another 22 year old married mother in the room to compare myself with. In fact, I didn't meet one all weekend.
We left, and drove to hubby's friend's house. I'm going to call him Oliver I think. Oliver lives in student housing, which I was happy to discover looks the same as back home. Put 4 young bachelors in one house and of course you have more pet reptiles than clean cups! The boy had some awesome snakes though! I think I want a snake now.
Oliver had a shower and shaved, which took longer than it takes me. Hubby paced, impatient to be started off to town. Oliver produced from nowhere a bag of ecstacy, and he and hubs crushed and snorted a pill in front of me. I'd never seen anything done like that before, although I'd heard about it many a time from hubby recounting his younger days. (This is the first time I've seen ecstacy since the winter of 2010/2011 and that was such a shit experience that I never wanted to touch the stuff again) But the night held such mystery, and potential and best of all, no tiny loving whack of responsibility in the morning, so I swallowed half a pill in a mouthful of spiced rum and soda, and we all got back into Oliver's car.
The second house party was at another uni house. One of the young guys there knew Hubs from years ago, and his girlfriend was really nice. We didn't stay long because by then both Hubby and Oliver were starting to act like they'd just snorted something (surprise, surprise) so we all just kind of jumped up and left. We told the nice people there that we'd see them at the uni bar.
From there the night kind of took off. One of the best things about Hubs and I is that we can go to a party together, and still be together, but be on opposite sides of a party. We sort of circulate every once in a while to check in, but I swear, sometimes it feels like the lyrics from that overplayed "Bad Girlfriend"
Come together, leave alone
See you later back at home
Hubs liked the dance beats but I had a blast sitting outside on the picnic tables chatting with whoever. There was a live band playing covers in the corner, and people started pouring in shortly after we arrived. Moths to a flame in a courting dance. I told Oliver we were looking for a blond. Did he know any blond girls?f
I have to go make Presley's dinner up now. I'll have to continue this later
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