I was asked to do a little interview today about drinking and, since I’m fairly well versed in the art of beverage consumption, I gladly obliged.
Being sexy is thirsty work.
Month: July 2014
Stripping back the truth of exotic dancing – as told to Deborah Bennett
Stripping isn’t just about sexual gratification or titillation; it’s a sexual adventure, a desire and a fantasy.
I am a stripper for private parties and events and I provide a sexual adventure for my clients, rather than just a quick lap dance.
Despite popular belief, stripping alone doesn’t make me enough money to survive. In fact, some strippers I know are 9am-5pm government servants or professionals in other sectors. I can make up to US$500 for one half an hour show but the work isn’t as regular as I’d like.
Some weekends, I can get two to three different jobs, if I’m lucky. Sometimes, there’s the occasional lunchtime birthday strip-o-gram sort of thing, which always interests me; and for me, a show can be performed at any time, anywhere.
Very few people in my private life know that I strip. I’m not a bad looking girl, but I don’t have the face of a supermodel. I’m in good shape, but I’m no Gisele Bundchen; and I can dance pretty well, but I’m no Joaquin Cortes. And I don’t have gigantic boobs but I’m happy with what I have.
The one thing I do have is what every successful stripper needs; and that is confidence: confidence that your audience wants you and confidence that you can make them want you more.
Stripping isn’t just about sexual gratification or titillation; it’s a sexual adventure.
I got into stripping in college. A friend of mine was looking for a stripper and he asked me because I’m a dancer.
I’ve always been a show off on stage and I thought it was the perfect opportunity to make a few bucks and get a thrill. Plus, I had the chance to impress someone. I had so much fun and after that show, more and more people engaged me for strip shows.
The clients usually give me a few details about what they want from me, for example, the theme, venue, time, what it’s for and the kind of crowd that will be there.
My first experience was doing a routine that is a must for almost all female strippers: go in dressed like a school-girl and ask if you can join in the party. It turned out to be a going-away party for an English lecturer from my college! Since I was a Computer Science major, I didn’t know many of the English faculty.
It was mostly men about 30 years older than me. As the featured stripper, I always arrive after the crowd has had one drink, two at the most. If I get there too early, everyone’s too reserved to get into it, and I end up feeling too self-conscious with the lack of audience participation. On the other hand, I don’t want to get there when everyone’s smashed. My rule is that my client has to be there at all times to ensure my safety.
That first evening, I did the school-girl thing and danced for the man of honour. I was nervous at first, but I warmed up quickly and everyone seemed to be having fun. He was flattered and fairly buzzed; and when I got down to just the thong, he wanted me to come closer.
Stripper rules are: I can touch the customers if I am invited to; and they always want me to! But customers are not allowed to touch the strippers unless she guides them to.
I ended up doing a lap dance for him, me in his lap, straddling him, facing him and grinding against him. The music ended, I gave him a kiss, and I got up to go.
Then another song started. That was not my plan. A few guys wanted me to dance. Gamely, I took a few steps with each, gave them a kiss, and tried to work my way towards the door. Then one, probably the youngest, best-looking man grabbed me for his turn.
He was about 20 years older than me but in great shape. He looked familiar. I had probably bumped into him in the hallway rushing from one lecture hall to another. We did a little bump and grind on the pseudo dance floor.
He looked at me and said, “Hello little dancer.” At first, I thought he might not recognize me, since I was lacking clothes and all. But then he whispered, “I remember you.” He smiled and slid his hands down to my waist.
“Hello sir,” I whispered in his ear. “Nice to see you here.” He gave me another slightly lop-sided grin and proceeded to lead me to dance as the crowd of men around us cheered enthusiastically.
All the attention was feeling really good and I started getting horny. We were quickly going to a place that I didn’t want to go with a crowd of boozy academics watching over us.
I danced us over to the door, told him that I was very sorry, but had to go. I gave him a kiss on the cheek, smiled at the glassy look in his eyes, grabbed my stuff and raced out the door.
My job is sexy, fun and exciting. I try my best to fulfill my clients’ fantasies and desires, as long as my safety is assured.
As a stripper, men drooling over me with a big hard on is nothing new and the thrill of stripping is that a bunch of men that I don’t know have that desire for me; never mind that they’re usually half drunk. Never mind that I might not be especially attracted to any one of them. It is all ego gratification in its purest, most addictive form.
SECRET WOMEN’S BUSINESS – as told to Deborah Bennett
I have a thing for hands when comes to men. I like them rough. I don’t like them pretty. Pretty hands are for women. A rough pair of hands shows me he’s willing to get dirty and it feels good to have rough hands running all over my body.
I love thinking about sex; it consumes my thoughts. I used to wonder if I was addicted to the eroticism of my fantasies, but now I know I’m as normal as the next woman.
Women have sexy thoughts all the time.
Women have sexy thoughts all the time. If a woman tells you she doesn’t, she’s lying. We think about sex just as much as men do, but a lot of women are too shy to speak about it.
Sometimes when I am having a conversation with an attractive man I’ve just met, I find myself fantasizing about him, imagining what it would be like to feel him against my lips, touching my skin or thrusting deep inside me.
I failed my diving writing exam because my instructor was too hot and I couldn’t stop staring at his butt as he wrote on the board. I found myself lost in a fantasy of us together in the water, naked. I couldn’t answer any of the questions he asked. It was so embarrassing.
Many of my girlfriends have boyfriends and they are faithful to them in body but not in mind; they all masturbate thinking about other men. I am no different.
It feels good to have rough hands running all over my body
Having said that, when I’ve had sex with a really hot guy, I will think about him non-stop until I can have him again. I think about his face, his mouth, his chest, and his hands, especially if they are rough hands.
RACING TO CLIMAX
Shelley wasn’t entirely keen on working this year at the Grand Prix. She’d done a stint years before as a grid girl and that was fun, but since becoming a librarian, she’d stopped all of that and left her lingerie and swimsuit modelling days behind.
But that afternoon, her friend Debbie begged her to fill in as a waitress in the Prestigious Motors corporate box. “It’ll be fun!” Debbie trilled. “There will be really hot guys to flirt with, and you said you needed a little extra cash.”
She was right. Shelley was saving to go to Europe and needed the money. And flirting with guys was always fun, she giggled to herself.
Now here she was, in a short skirt, low cut top and an apron serving drinks to rev heads. It felt just like the days when she was modelling. She felt the men’s eyes crawl up and down her body taking in every curve, every inch of bare skin. She watched them lick their lips as she leaned over to put a beer in front of them, letting them drink in her scent. She loved being wanted, she loved to tease.
The atmosphere was electric. The rev of the engines, the smell of fuel, the buzz of the crowd washed over her and she knew she was going to have some fun. Debbie had looked after her, and put her in the best corporate box with only five people to look after that day.
Debbie and Shelley had been friends since high school and had gotten up to all sorts of mischief together. Their parents had unsuccessfully tried to separate them when they were 19 because of a crazy spa party and an incriminating video; but that’s another story.
Lost in her thoughts, as she often was, Shelley hadn’t noticed the man in front of her until she felt the tea towel she was using to polish glasses being removed from her hands. She looked up into the dark eyes of the stranger in front of her as he slowly pulled the towel from her grip.
“Sorry. Can I borrow this? We’ve had a bit of a spill over there.” His deep voice soaked into her senses and she snapped out of her daydream.
“I’ll come and clean that up,” she smiled.
Dressed in a Prestigious Motors shirt which fit snugly over muscular shoulders; and tailored pants which showed an outline of his quads, Silvia was impressed.
“After you,” he offered, watching her walk away, so she swung her hips to make sure he didn’t miss anything.
The guys at the table were drunk and loud, yelling to be heard over the engines of the Formula One cars on the track beneath them. In between demands for more beer, they slurred names like Rosburg, Magnussen , Alonso; throwing down money for bets and challenging each other to drink more.
Shelley wondered where Debbie was. She said she’d be back with more beer an hour beforehand and the punters were getting thirsty. It didn’t help that they were spilling their beer either.
Shelley cleaned up the spilled lager and headed back to the bar to get another round for the table of rowdy guys.
“Do you want some help?” a voice behind her murmured.
She turned around and smiled at the man who was drinking in her gorgeous frame. She tossed her long, blonde hair back and looked him up and down. He was strong, powerful and sexy as hell. He was slightly removed from the guys at the table so she figured he must be the owner of the elite car company. She smiled to herself, though, because his name was embroidered on his shirt, which she thought was adorable. Ted, she thought to herself. You are well worth my attention today.
Interrupting her thoughts, a message came through on her phone. At last, Debbie had made contact.
CUM 2 DOWNSTAIRS FRIDGE. NEED U CARRY BEER.
Shelley shuddered at Debbie’s appalling grammar and spelling but welcomed a change of scenery. The Melbourne weather was hot and she was looking forward to cooling off a little.
“I’m fine,” she smiled at Ted. “But if you could man the fort until I get back, that would be awesome. I’m just heading down to the coolroom to get more beer for you guys.”
“Sure,” he grinned. “It’s in good hands.”
Those hands, she thought. God, I’d love to be in those hands!
Downstairs in the portable coolroom, Debbie was flustered. She had been dealing with a Japanese company who’d booked a corporate box and they were driving her insane. “They just want everything I don’t have!” she whined. “And they’ve drunk me out of fucking Asahi!”
Shelley hugged her friend, pulling her firm body against her and stroking her red hair. “I’ll swap with you, if you like, Deb,” she offered.
“Fuck no!” her friend laughed. “I’ve seen the big sexy man up there you get to play with! I wouldn’t take him away from you!”
“Oh my god, Deb. He’s so hot! I don’t know if it’s the vibrations of the car engines or Ted the car man, but I am so horny!”
“Maybe we could both take him, for old time’s sake?” Debbie giggled.
At that moment, the door swung open. Ted walked in, a little startled to see two women in front of him. “Oh, I thought you might need some help carrying stuff,” he muttered. His humility was just as sexy as his confidence.
“I was just leaving,” Debbie said, hurrying out the door, smiling cheekily. “Debbie needs some help carrying those cartons upstairs, though. Thanks.”
The door swung shut and sexual tension hung between the two in the crisp coolness of the refrigerated air. Shelley broke the silence.
“I’ll grab the Corona if you can bring the Johnnie Walker cans,” she said, a bit unsure what to do.
She moved to the pile of cartons and bent over to pick up the box. She felt him behind her. First, his crotch against the back of her legs, then his hands on her thighs. She stood up as his hands moved up the length of her body, moving around her front. She leaned back into him, his breath on her neck, his hardness pressing into her.
Moaning gently, her hands found their way behind her and stroked him above his pants. His breathing became heavier and he kissed her neck hard. Shelley grabbed Ted’s hand and guided it down her front and under her tight, black skirt. His fingers made their way under her lace knickers to stroke her wet pussy.
Behind them, the door opened, but they were too horny to notice. Debbie had returned and approached the couple, whose backs were facing her. She pushed her body with her big tits against Ted’s back and her hands went inside his pants to join Shelley’s.
Shelley smiled, knowing it was her friend. She could have predicted Deb wouldn’t stay away too long. She was the horniest woman Shelley knew.
Ted groaned in ecstasy as the two sexy young woman played with his cock; his fingers dipping deep in Shelley’s pussy, daring her to cum. As if on cue, Shelley squirted on his hand. “Lick it,” she whispered.
Drinking Shelley’s sweet orgasm off his skin, Ted noticed Debbie wanted some too. He offered her his hand and she sucked his fingers. Desperate for more, Shelley took Debbie’s face in her hands and kissed her. Ted watched as the two women licked each other’s lips, their hands everywhere.
The pile of beer cartons was at the perfect height for Shelley to hop up on and offer her pussy to Debbie, who responded by pulling off Shelley’s lace g-string and hungrily plunging her tongue inside. Ted stood back, watching Shelley’s pleasure as Debbie gently sucked, nibbled and licked her friend to orgasm.
Shelley came hard and the women kissed, sharing the cum between them. “Your turn,” Shelley whispered.
They swapped places. Debbie opened her legs and Shelley bent over to eat the soaking wet cunt in front of her; her own pussy glistening with juices and begging Ted to take it.
As if reading his mind, Shelley turned and looked at him, licking Debbie’s cream off her lips. “It’s yours,” she purred.
Ted took out his cock and drove it into her cunt. She yelped with pleasure and her tongue plunged deeper into Debbie who groaned with delight. Ted fucked harder, Shelley sucked and licked faster and the three moved in unison, begging for each thrust from each other.
Putting her fingers inside Debbie to bring her to the ultimate climax, Ted readied himself to cum with Shelley. Grabbing her tight little arse, his cock moved harder and faster inside her. She pushed back against him, her arse bouncing against him as he watched her munching on Debbie’s smooth, perfect pussy.
They came together.
Ted straightened up with Shelley, holding her against him. She turned back and kissed him. Debbie moved forward and kissed them both. He could taste each woman on the other’s lips and he felt a stirring in his cock.
Reading his mind, Debbie smiled, her hands moving to Shelley’s breast, circling her nipple with her finger. “We’ll need another beer run later,” she murmured.
Ted tidied himself up, grabbed two cartons of beer and headed to the door. “I’m in. I’ll meet you here,” he said.
As the door closed behind him, the girls started to laugh. “Just like old times!” Debbie giggled. “Better get back to work. Those engines are revving!”
TEQUILA AND GROUP SEX – by Marcus Armstrong
As with many a good story it began with tequila.
Debbie and I sat in the casino bar contemplating whether we should go. We reasoned that the decision could only be made after we’d had shots. In the warm haze that followed, we kissed and sealed our fate. In the taxi Debbie took my hand and we journeyed in silence: we were in this together. Our destination was a non-descript door set among shops and other businesses on a main road in the suburbs. It could have been an accountant, a real estate agent, an art gallery. But inside and up the stairs was a swingers club.
Our relationship was relatively new but we had jumped in at the deep end with no looking back. Debbie and I had both come out of relationships that had become stale and were devoid of risk taking. Tonight was antidote to that. However, both of us being professionals with a number of tertiary qualifications to our name, this was not something we would be able to talk about lineing up for the coffee machine at work on Monday morning. We were, to all appearances, a picture of respectability. Swingers clubs might be something that most of us hold some curious fascination about, but how many of us actually know someone who’d go to one? It conjures up images of keys in bowls and poorly trimmed moustaches. We were both going far out of our comfort zones and there were understandable misgivings: who knew what we would find at the top of the stairs? While it had been my idea to come here, Debbie held similar fascinations, but she was also wary about not becoming the centre of some male fantasy. We had set rules for the night in advance.
We found ourselves in a darkened bar that could have been any nightclub, save for the porn playing on the television screens and that everyone was dressed in their underwear. And there were lockers. As far as venues go, the swingers club is friendlier than your average club; there is no difficulty in sparking up a conversation. As per protocol we dressed down to underwear and, with the effects of tequila fading, ordered another drink.
It was time to explore. Debbie took my hand and we wandered through the maze of corridors and different themed rooms. We giggled like a couple of teenagers, the sound and smell of sex were all around. We breathlessly listened at doors. Any misgivings that Debbie had previously held about the place had completely dissipated. She was clearly energised and stimulated by this new environment, displaying a poise I hadn’t seen before as she led me around the shadowy maze.
We eventually got chatting with a South African couple. It was a pleasant enough conversation but it became clear that they were losing their attraction for each other and had come here trying to spark something. They were a good looking couple and we would have been happy to play with them, but later Debbie and I agreed there was something distinctly unattractive about people who weren’t attracted to each other anymore.
It was the most erotic thing I had ever seen.
Moving to the main play area we found a sexy couple naked on a mattress as she was animatedly sucked his cock. A lithe brunette, she must have been a regular attendee, known to the gathering crowd as Rachelle. He lay on his back, as she bent over him, her delicious ass pointing upwards. It was confronting and arousing. This might have been a commonplace scene in a porn, but here it was happening in front of us. We were both transfixed and took a seat; to feed our arousal we kissed deeply. Another couple were seated next to us also enjoying the display on the floor. She was dressed in elaborate red lingerie and spoke in an Eastern European accent. We affectionately dubbed them the Romanian Couple. With barely any interaction the woman reclined back into Debbie’s lap and they began kissing. As this became more intense the couple asked us to join them in a private room. By this time we had caught the attention of Rachelle and her partner who asked if they could join us. There were then six bodies in a small room and things were happening fast. Rachelle dropped to her knees and began eating out the Romanian woman and sliding her fingers into Debbie’s aroused pussy. The Romanian woman pulled down the straps of Debbie’s lingerie revealing her large, firm breasts and both women moved, beginning to feast on them. It was the most erotic thing I had ever seen. I was holding Debbie from behind, hard against her watching this display of raw sexuality unfold.
We stripped off any remaining items of clothing and exchanged passionate kisses with other members of the group: Debbie was kissing Rachelle’s partner and Rachelle was on my lips. I was surprised at my reaction to watching Debbie being kissed by another man. In this context it was incredibly arousing. Making our way to the floor, Debbie lay on her back and spread her legs; Rachelle got down on all fours. I entered Debbie while Rachelle’s partner took her from behind. Meanwhile the Romanians were still involved: she perched on my back while he fucked her. I could feel their every move. Six bodies were now moving together: thrusting, groping, fucking. Meanwhile, Debbie and I took turns kissing Rachelle and our hands went to her pussy. It felt like soft velvet and we could feel him thrusting inside her. This wasn’t exactly swinging, it was something more intimate. We were each with our own partner but feeling the bodies of everyone else, sharing this incredible sexual energy. I’m not sure how long we kept at this, time seemed irrelevant. Eventually we moved to a larger room. I’m not exactly sure why. Maybe it was time for an audience, maybe we just wanted to be able to stretch out in a bigger, more ventilated space. As we walked down the corridor naked, we passed by the South African couple from earlier in the night.
“Wow. You guys didn’t waste any time!” he said to us, a hint of envy in his voice. And it was true we didn’t. We might have had some hesitations about going to this place, but once there we were committed to experiencing all that we could without pause.
The six of us went to a public room with a large, round bed in the middle and continued in much the same fashion as we had in the smaller room. An audience grew around us. It was a turn-on to have people watching us and hear their groans of approval. This time I took Debbie from behind who had now developed a deep fascination with Rachelle’s cunt. She was displaying an awesome confidence I had never seen before: she was directing the show. Any fears of being some pawn in a male fantasy had long been cast aside; this was Debbie’s fantasy and she was in complete control. With her hand on Rachelle’s pussy she gave the orders to Rachelle’s partner: “I want to you to make her cum,” she said, while also forbidding him to cum until she said so. Debbie held Rachelle’s gaze, and with a hand on her, Rachelle orgasmed. The sexual energy passing between the two women was an incredible thing to behold.
At the end of the evening Debbie and I found our way to a private room, and having held back through the night, I came alone with her. It was a beautiful and loving moment and I think it was then that both of us knew that we had a partner who was perfectly suited, who could balance the crazy, dirty moments with the loving, intimate ones.
We had gone there with a sense of curiosity, knowing that it would be far out of our comfort zone. But it was, in fact, a better experience that I could have imagined. It wasn’t freaky or salacious: just the most natural act on earth, only shared when we would usually keep it safely locked away. And it wasn’t in any way about ogling other people, it was about us as a couple. We began the night together and never left each other’s side before ending the night together. We each definitively knew that we had an audacious partner who would never settle for the mundane.
That was a few years ago now, and it was that night that we really fell in love.
Thank you tequila.
Deborah Bennett's Naughty Nightcaps 