Pittsburgh outings

[DruulEmpire]

I admit, I've been holding out -- I was down there for a bit on Thursday March 1st last week -- but old details first.  Colt: yes, Heidi is something -- including a burning hole in one's wallet pocket -- and if I ever get any phonecam ability or such some year she may be my first subject, just to show y'all I ain't lyin'.  Berk: I think they already like to try to get busty ones down there but are dealing with booking peculiarities; plus, their budget may have lowered due to recent remodeling.  My suspicion is that Big Boobs Nite is something they PLAN to do provided the right crop of up-and-coming dancers shows up in time, but that's simply not reliable -- so, I'm done counting on it.

If anyone out there knows and loves one Brandy Lynn Banks, ya got 48 hours from now to post here and talk me into it.  She seems nice enough, but I already kick myself for missing Brianna Banks when she was out here, and Brandi Morgan was already out here, so I wonder: how many Brandys and Banks do I have to accumulate?  (Oddly enough, I waive this principle when it comes to ladies called Leigh: I hope my call urges them to bring back Dana Leigh, the Half-Cherokee Hottie, I still recall Summer Leigh as The One Who Climaxed In My Arms, and I also keep hoping that the sweet tiger-tatted Windy Leigh -- who I believe is originally from around here -- can make it somehow.)

That possibility aside, I'm letting March be a washout -- especially as my faves Jada DeVille AND Brandi Morgan are due in April!  But I checked back in on my Kyra -- turns out she'll be away a couple months but should be back perhaps as early as June, so I wished her well -- the gal has got to take care of her back, her bronchitis (why do so many of these ladies smoke?), not to mention her kid, so I like to see her take care of herself.  As a bonus, I also had another one of those nice extra-intimate dances with Esmerelda.

The list keeps changing somewhat, so I may have to update myself on that as well.  All in all, it could be an interesting April ...

[DruulEmpire]

(A quick technical note -- I tried fictionalizing one new find as "Daisy," only she hasn't shown back up in a while and an ACTUAL Daisy has turned up in the dancer logs.  What can I say, fictionalization is a rough game ... )

Been racking up 12-hour and 11-hour shifts lately, and now I get to play Blow Your Overtime Pay.  I'm interested in the club again, especially concerning April 6 -- that's right, Good Friday.  If anyone out there recalls PBS's Electric Company like I do, (and yes, that was Morgan Freeman as Easy Reader), then you may recall that all their soap opera skits ended with the rhetorical question "What about Naomi?"  But for me it's been a serious question, since I copped out of the Christmas party she showed up for -- so now she's back and I think I'll finally check her out.

But I'm mainly keeping tabs on "my" Kyra, plus I see an unusual confluence of particularly high-echelon house girls, so -- I went down today.  It's the first day of my week's worth of vacation, the weather is beautiful, I've been a good boy nearly a month, so why not?

As I say, Naomi Knight is next week, but for now it was Reinforce Your Favorite Dancers Day.  The first girl up was Ramba, a peculiarly overmacho designation for a rather normally sex blackhaired girl.  Key attraction with her was that she got called on to do a birthday favor for a 29-year-old -- I've seen that before with featured entertainers, but I thought it was cool to see a house girl try it.  She got him up on the stage, took his belt, rode him a bit on all fours, smacked his ass, and even wedgied him till the band of his underpants ripped off -- but she also gave him a nice up-and-down boobyful chair dance before and after, so he got a reasonably full experience.

Next up was Sydney.  (See above!)  Believe it or not, I noticed her dress -- it was NICE, black and glittery and classy, the skirt slit high up her thighs and thongs crisscrossing over her cleavage.  But it was good to see her get it all off too.  Sydney is a cheery and seemingly effortless performer, and I'd've snatched her right up -- but Kyra was next, and loyalties are loyalties.

Kyra teased me right off about my coming back at the end of the month -- wild that she remembers my stuff.  With me she does the intimate lovey-dovey stuff while on stage, our cheeks gliding past each other, and of course I had to get her in the booth, especially as we had an unusually good run of songs.  (She even remembered a story I was working on; sadly, I couldn't get it in shape by the contest deadline.)  

Once Kyra and I smoldered at each other, I came back out and  caught the Mena-Suvari-like Lourdes (see above) finsihing up, but she was already taken, so no Lourdes -- another day, I hope.  A cheery blonde, let's call her Dolores, hit the stage -- and it was eerie, I can't help but wonder that she watched Kyra with me, because damn if she wasn't trying to steal the Kyra playbook.  She was sweet enough, but she just wasn't Kyra, no mystique, no pull, so I ponied up my singles and let her slide.

After all that, though, the universe came back into balance -- but I must post this now, or face possible invalidation ...

[DruulEmpire]

Libra (see above) was next.  She is so fucking beautiful -- if she was better as both a stage and private dancer, she could dethrone Kyra.  How does a girl look that princess-like and manage to be so sweet AND so sexy?  And from our own South Side yet?  Hell of a find.  Anyway, she recognized me very happily, which was reassuring, and she didn't seem to want to dance so much as chat with her audience, but that was okay.

While I was waiting for Libra to finish off some other guy before taking me on, I checked out ambitious blonde Cari (see above) again, who again was giving the "You've got to try a dance with me!" line off the bat.  Someday I will -- but there's something in the very come-on that freezes up any genuine enthusiasm I might have otherwise had.

Libra crooks her finger at me and we go into the booths.  Strange to compare Libra to Kyra -- both women make me feel ravished, but Kyra does it lovingly, with lots of soft squirming and hot breathing, while Libra ravishes me in a more direct and perfunctory way.  With both women I feel as if the very semen is getting coerced our of my testes -- not that I've ever come close to "getting off" at the club, but God only knows that's where my imagination is.

I somehow couldn't bring myself to urge Kyra to "dish" on any behind-the-scenes news, but I do get Libra to "dish," and I learn that ESMERELDA HAS QUIT.  Now, that is a bit of an Argh.  Esmerelda was a very good, very nice, very directly sexual sort of dancer.  Anyhow, with Esmerelda gone the club's premiere black dancer is now clearly Libra.

After taking a pause to de-erect myself after a hearty Libra session, I notice Sydney in that glamorous outfit and feel compelled to go right up to her.  She appreciates my complimenting her dress and I like seeing her s-l-o-w-l-y get out of it.

What IS it about Sydney?  She's one small woman, but so sunny and full of agile energy.  She's pure Mexican, but with her almond-like eyes she passes for Filipino or Asian.  I recall, of all things, the W. Olaf Stapledon novel Last and First Men, of how the American President and Chinese Vice-President of a world government were visited on an island by a naked Daughter of Man, a mix of pretty much all races, and it is easy to imagine her as such.  In the future, though, I think I can stand to sound less fascinated by her look when I talk with her, I suppose it is a bit of a limited topic.  Anyhow, Sydney has definitely grown on me.

Tempting to push my luck, but I figure, three great women in two hours -- leave it go.  I am now more firmly remembered by Sydney, and I had more fun with Libra as well as with Kyra.  It's been a full afternoon.

And Libra AND Kyra AND Naomi Knight should be on hand in one week.  I've made the joke before, and I'll do it again -- there may be potential her for a Good Friday to be made a GREAT Friday ...  

[DruulEmpire]

Apologies to any readers for not dragging myself back to my keyboard till the morning AFTER Great Friday, but it was pretty great ...

Wild how I keep bumping into my parents -- I attended 8 AM Mass at St. Paul's and went down to Pitt's Hillman Library only to meet my father coming the other way ... somehow I did not tell him what my day's plans were ...

I usually keep it quiet, sitting at the bar till the dancers start, but this time a relatively new patron -- let's call him Bruce -- was chatting up the newer, sweeter bartender, and she dropped the name "Jada DeVille," so I hauled my Iron City over there.  It's pleasing to see that even the jaded bartenders notice the show from time to time and that this one really appreciated Jada's funny show back in early October (see above in this thread).  

Bruce was new to the place but had made it out to Silky's and he was wondering how things were here, about touching and all that.  I said, officially hands off, especially concerning the pussy -- but if you can "read" a girl right and establish a trust with her, many of them are pretty cool about it.  That may have been more subtle than he liked -- he seemed to prefer Yes, No, and numbers -- but he was nice, I hope he gets used to the place.

What makes a Great Friday?  FIVE private dancers -- beginning, as luck would have it, with "my" Kyra.  She even asked me "Before or after the feature?" and I said "Before!"  I'm pleased with Kyra -- turns out she's getting her GED, and she's studying to give massage and tend bar.  All this while raising her [censored], too.  Great dancer, masseuse, bartender -- sounds like she's on her way to becoming someone's ideal woman!  She'll be away, for a two month hiatus, in three weeks, probably before my Brandi Morgan cycles back -- shall I stop in just to see her off?  Hmmm ...

After Kyra it was soon time for Naomi Knight, the gal I missed out on back at the Christmas party.  She came out in a great swirling white costume -- her neckless-as-headdress didn't do much for me, but I appreciated the glimpses of her body as she spun.  She's not one of the more facially amazing performers, but inside of a minute I could see that she had body and attitude to burn; I knew I'd be getting her in a booth.

And when I say "to burn," I mean LITERALLY.  She made some rounds with us guys at the stage, buffeting my face with her great mamma-slamma breasts three times, and then settled into a fire-eating act, complete with her panties appearing to catch fire and then gliding fire over her arms and legs.  Oddly beautiful to see, though it does bring out my cautionary nature, I think Okay, I get it, you're HOT, point taken!

Got a picture off her, then caught her after the show ... more on that in one minute ...

[DruulEmpire]

First, a word on the didn't-make-its.  I was a little sad to see that Libra was scheduled but didn't show up, at least while I was there -- her beauty and enthusiasm makes her nearly as much a must-have as Kyra.  Ah well.  Then there was the skinny but beautiful new girl (at least, she was new to me) who I'll call Ava, and I missed out yet again on the ever-self-promoting Cari -- more on them to come.

First, Naomi.  She challenged me with "You're a TIT man, huh!" and suffocated me (nicely) with them a few times.  She also worked and rubbed my (clothed) erection a lot and described a titfuck for me, one if which I could shove it in from above while allowing her to lick my balls.  Truth to tell, I'm very protective of my scrotum, but you've got to appreciate the sheer enthusiasm of the suggestion.  Anyhow, Naomi was very much a fantasy ready-to-go girl in the flesh, not what I'd call a favorite but well worth checking.

I think what astounded me about the day was that EACH GIRL WAS REALLY UP.  Occasionally you get the girl who seems distracted or tired or vaguely pissed-off, but not so on Great Friday.  After Naomi, there was Aria.  I was a bit concerned about Aria at first, because in the "all girls on stage at once" dance right after Naomi's show she just stood there and wagged a little -- but come her own dance she was very alive.  Never had her before -- a brassy blonde with curls with an interesting face, very broad and full, nice wide eyes.  I'd go so far as to invoke Fairuza Balk, but that mighty drive at least one member here crazy.)  Everything about her face says "Sex Kitten."  Oh, and she has some small piercings of the nose and upper lip.

So I get her into the booth and she's raring to go.  I ask "Are all pierced girls bad?" and she's game and says "Yeah, I think we are!"  She's smiling and fun and total energy and as she grins and bunny-hops on my lap I feel ravished and she jokes "I'm r4ping you!"  She immediately regrets so strong a verb, though, so I offer "But nicely!  Consensually!" and she likes those.  She was worth a double dance.

The cool thing was, Granada (search above), the brown-haired  short girl with blonde highlights, came on to me just as I was waiting for Aria, and we passed each other again as she tended to someone else.  So there I was, Granada-less -- and a fun black-haired girl I'd had one, Linda (search above) was already there, having finished a dance, so Iasked "So are you doing anything right now?"  It led to our joking that maybe I should just have my own revolving booth.

That was sort of how it was feeling, too.  With Linda I was able to "dish" a bit about the club.  When it was (finally)  Granada's turn, she impressed me with an opening trick (this is inside a booth, you understand) of doing a headstand and landing her (clothed) ass directly before my face.  I'm glad I look reasonably young and hearty enough for these gals to try such things with me.

The only sad part was, everything began to blur together for me towards the end.  It got so bad, I tried to chat up Ava during her show -- only to realize Ava was sharing the stage with Granada now, and I was talking with Granada once more!    And poor Cari, she deserves a dance, she'll get one yet (I keep saying).  So the effect -- that of getting relentlessly hit on by hot lovely wild women -- worked, the downside being that it became harder to focus on them individually.  Got to try to do that more in the future.

And that was pretty much myu Great Friday -- had my first one last year, and it's a tradition I think I'll maintain ...

[DruulEmpire]

Technically I shouldn't be doing this, as I happen to enjoy the 50:1 ratio of views to posts on this thread and prefer to make each post efficiently, but a certain recent fantasy has been weighing so heavily on my mind that I've got to just get it out of my system.  And while I'm here, some clarification  -- I may not be back out there till this Friday the 27th, to catch a personal favorite named Brandi Morgan, though it's possible I may stop in earlier to be sure to see my Kyra off on her short vacation.

Also, a word about Bruce.  He asked about prices, and all I can say is that, in my experience, you can get away with being a simple voyeur for twenty bucks, but to even begin to get a dance or two, or double dance, off a girl while feeding singles from the stage, you walk in prepared to blow at dead minimum a hundred.  If I have to worry, or consider haggling, I don't walk in.  It's all or nothing; I consider non-haggling, being smooth and magnanimous, part of my own role in the total experience.

But how high can I take that?  At a certain point, it does seem a bit silly.  I would love to get long dances off, say, eight great house girls in a row -- but that would run $500.  Hence my waiting for an event like Great Friday to splurge.

But what if I had a budget to absorb so much happy silliness?  Then I might celebrate every Friday with eight house girls -- it would eat up more than my entire salary (even with overtime), but it would be memorable.

In a realm of infinite budget, I would set up a revolving booth.  It might go something like this:

1. I stake out a nice spacious booth.  Ideally, I even pitch in for features, like the side mirrors of old, and it may even be assured of always getting the music piped in or being season-appropriately warm or cool.  The booth may be as close to the front of that area as possible.

2. I leave a clipboard beside the booth.  It might read "Murdock's Call List of Private Dancers -- If you see your name, stick your head in" and have an appropriate arrow.  I would write down twelve names and then see how many manage to stop by.  The security guy on hand might even point out the board -- tempting to use the DJ, but I wouldn't want to make that big a deal.

3. Girls catch on and check in or wait.  If there's two, we can work something out.

4. If this went on long enough, people might get used to it and it might proceed more smoothly.

This pretty simply is the fantasy: a "revolving booth," one where the patron gets inundated by one excellent dancer right after another, a place where dancers actually gather to win the patron's favor.  One hour there could be heaven.

Would be awfully expensive, though ...

[berkovw]

I haven't been down to the club since I saw Lovette in July.  Hopefully, I'll make it down a little more this summer.  We'll see.

Anyway, my brother's going to be getting married in a few weeks.  I'm throwing him 2 bachelor parties because one of his good friends isn't allowed to go to strip clubs, so I'm going to take my brother to the new strip club in McKeesport.  If I see anything good, I'll post it here.

[DruulEmpire]

Thanks, Berk -- is that Beemer's you're talking about?

Not sure why I felt compelled to go back down this Saturday evening.  Maybe I knew the next month and a half at my critically understaffed work site are going to be hectic and demanding.  Maybe I felt disgusted with dumb mysterious problem attaching files so that they could get printed up in my club's newsletter.   Maybe I succumbed to a need to rebel against this d-r-a-g-g-i-n-g winter in the Northeast.  Or maybe I just got REALLY HORNY.   Anyway, I went.

And the saga of Cari (see above) continues -- she had the bad luck to talk me up right after I promised myself to Linda (see above), and then had to leave before I could get done with Linda.  Is she getting pissed at me?  For that matter, is she worth this wait?  The plot thickens ...

It's tough to resist Linda, she's just so up and cheery and fun, she seems to be very much that "dark energy" all those cosmologists are hunting for.  I mentioned far above that Linda and Sydney are what I call "bookends" of "Gold Power," but there was diversity even beyond the two -- but I'm getting ahead of myself.

It was somewhat tempting to try to pick up the next dancers, either the athletic red-headed Columbia or the coy-coiffed brunette-with-blonde-highlights Granada.  I gotta say, Granada and I had a lot of great eye contact going on through her dance.  I think I've narrowed down her look -- at first her haircut got me to thinking a bit of Jennifer Aniston, but now I understand that she bears a MUCH closer resemblance to Tatum O'Neal way back in her coming-of-age phase in movies like Little Darlings -- not that Granada looks anywhere near that virginal (I'm a perv, sure, but not that kind of perv), but I think that's a fair analogy.

Yes, I very nearly swiped up Granada, both on stage and while seeing my way past her out of the booths -- but I felt an instant "thunderbolt" when I saw the dancer Sarday (I've seen a Sharday somewhere before, but no, she was Sarday).  No more do I have to worrry about Libra now being the main black dancer after Esmerelda quit; Libra is very ably balanced out by this Sarday.   Sarday is simply beautiful, in an almost lyrical way.  So I knew I had to get her.

But in the booth -- eh.  She was an adequate dancer, but she spoke with a rat-a-tat rhythm suggesting a short attention span.  As a quick treat from time to time, maybe it's great just to look at her, but I'll have to take her in passing as part of a much greater girl feast.

The feast came as two women -- more on them in a little while ...

[DruulEmpire]

I decided to just stand around, and then Sydney came over to me and chatted me up.  She has long hair this, and I can't figure it -- wig?  Extensions?  Anyhow, I remembered her as a traveler, and so she talked about that.  The girl loves museums, but mainly of the Ripley's kind that cater to the bizarre (and kinda gross), or the wax museum -- clearly someday she's got to Madame Toussaud's.  Anyhow, she's so damn sunny that I had to get her in a booth.

This may be getting to be a problem.  Am I a man who can't say no?  A slut?  

But if you'd seen the last girl ...  Right after Sydney I immediately tracked down Corinne over in that odd little side booth.  I felt a bit bad about that argument raging on the last time Corinne and I got together (see way above), but this time we were alone and quiet and could concentrate.  Couldn't help but think of my teacher friend George, and how much he's into the classic blonde beauty (rather like his steady girlfriend) and I wondered how much George would want to be me in the booth, Corinne is SO damn glamorous and moves both sexily and lovingly.  A double dance.

The gals are more self-conscious now, mainly due to some new or reinforced decree from the owner, about any breast touching, so I've scaled back -- luckily, it's still perfectly okay, for some reason, for my face to get buried in them.

And that was it, my "Gold" Linda and Sydney, mixed in with the fresh new Sarday and a long-delayed moment of justice with Corinne.  It was a sweet night, a good way to lift the dread of Friday the 13th the day before ... and it had better hold me till my Brandi Morgan gets here in two weeks ...

[berkovw]

Yeah, Druul, it's Beemer's.  

I love the name Sydney.  It's an Alias/Jennifer Garner thing.

[DruulEmpire]

First, a note back to Berk -- It's funny, how I was really hooked on Alias when it was on, and now I find it difficult to make the plunge into any of the local station's late night reruns.  But true enough, Jennifer Garner makes me proud to be a native of West Virginia (not often enough that happens).  I rather suspect she got the name Sydney as a subliminal ad for Disney, ABC-TV's owner.  However, my sweet ex-Angelena Chicana Sydney down at Blush is simply my code name for her -- and, as I say, if anyone ever needs more data I can PM them and give the non-aliases, along with my awfully obscure rationales for my aliases.  What all DOES generate the alias Sydney?  You might be surprised ...

Awright, my Brandi Morgan was back, so I HAD to go back down today -- and I wound up spending seven hours downtown, mostly in Blush, for the chance to catch Brandi TWICE.  The club is now trying something called a "businessman's special" on Thursdays and Fridays at 6:30 PM -- and, eh, it may be a bit too raucous and crowded and smoky for me after all, but it was worth two Brandi performances.

The experience did make me wish -- not at all for the first time, and I would think not the last -- that I was a richer man, because Brandi's performance knocked out just before the new shift of house girls began, and that selection was extra luscious.  Blast, but I was too strapped and also too tired out, having been up since 10 PM the night before, so I left them go for a better time.  I must also say, the dancer lineup was extra sketchy today, there was very little match between the official online list and who actually showed up.  Here I thought I would finally land the ambitious Cari, or waste time with the beautiful Libra, or finally meet the fleeting mysterious Feather -- but no, none of those showed.

Instead, the "eyes" very much had it today.  Eyes always have great power, but they were workin' extra hard today.  I first noticed the power of eyes with a new dancer named Brigham (name seems both masculine and Mormon, but what the hey).   She had a good enough face, oddly reminding me of singer Judy Colins back in her Eighties heyday, and we were locking eyes enough that when she caught me standing around  during another girl's dance I figured Why not?  And that power carried on with Titania, a very classic blonde beauty, and Tommie, a small lively exotic girl, and Aria (see above) who was a full throttle party machine today, just going whoosh-whoosh-whoosh through booth dance partners and I very nearly got caught up in her momentum.

But first, the best eyes were Brandi's.  (It usually helps with recognition if a dancer knows I e-mailed her -- turns out Brandi has a new e-address, which she gave me and I've already availed myself of).  Brandi herself continues to be  a perfect busty blonde girly-girl doll of a woman, but her eyes had power today.  First dance: she came out like a backwoods woman in strategically ripped jeans to the tune of Gretchen Wilson's "Redneck Woman," with a big white hat too, and she happily recognized me and gave me a couple of mamma-slamma greetings while working the stage crowd and steadily stripping down to her black but dazzle-studded lingerie.  Her third song was basic but satisfying, getting out the fake fur rug and then squirting lotion all over her naked body, before finally inciting us to snatch pics of her that were adhering to her breasts, with our teeth no less.

Catching her after the first show, she just let the whole "setting up shop in the corner" bit slide and came with me suitcase and all to the booth.  It is sweet, sweet sorrow, now living in this time when copping a busty feel is evidently verboten, but Brandi is an understanding and gracious soul and gave me some good smotherings between a lot of evocative dance moves -- personally, I'm a sucker for the head thrown back past my own shoulder while I look directly down into the woman hefting her own breasts.  We got a bit updated, she mentioned that her birthday is May 31, and we hugged -- and I said I would come check her out again.  Which I did ...

[DruulEmpire]

After Her Brandiness, my interest was seized by a dancer I'd never gotten a good look at before: Titania, who is a classic blonde-curled beauty abover the neck, I would call her Barbara Stanwyck except BETTER than Stanwyck, maybe closer to Virginia Madsen.  Her body was all right but she dressed VERY well, nice eye-catching satiny lingerie.  So I tried her on an impulse.

After that I needed a break, so I went to the library.  When I got back, I finally got to sit down to a dance involving a short black-tressed girl who'd been catching my eye over and over before, a girl named, of all things, Tommie.  What WAS it about Tommie?  There was something exotic about her (sort of the way I assumed that Libra, from our Burgh's own South Side, hailed from Ethiopia) and I settled on Persis Khambatta, perhaps best known as Ilia in Star Trek The Motion Sickness, except with HAIR.  Tommie and I had a lot of eye talk and smile talk goin' on today, so I had to get her.  What IS it about the really small girls?  I know I've been glossing over the dances here somewhat, but beyond certain details they kind of blur, but Tommie was real dynamite, alternately "bunny hopping" atop me and stretching herself all over me in other ways.

There was no particular luck between Tommie and Brandi's next show, though I'm happy to report ESMERELDA DID NOT QUIT AFTER ALL (see above).  Evidently, a girl can dish on what's going on behind the scenes -- but she may not dish very accurately.  Between Libra, Esmerelda, and Sarday, the club now has a strong and enchanting contingent of black dancers.

Sometime after Esmerelda danced, Brandi was back up -- and I REALLY liked this, wiht her in a black leather bare-butted biker suit with the Harley Davidson brand on it, all to the tune of George Thorogood's "Bad to the Bone."  I didn't get quite as mamma-slammed this time -- she'd been to me and done me, plus she had more crowd to play to -- but hey, it was another brandi strip, and this time around she slowly poured candle wax over her body in the third song.  (Although I miss my audience participation of pulling her blue jeans off fro that first show.)

After her show, I checked the listing of dancers and figured, Too rich for my blood, so I left, but not before Brandi smiled and waved at me before disappearing into the main lobby.  Oddly, I wonder about Tommie -- the owner wanted to see her, and I joked to her that it was like the principal seeing her, and she said, Oh, in school her principal knew her on a first name basis, she got called in so much.  I hope Tommie is doing all right.  I know Brandi did.

[DruulEmpire]

Yesterday's outing was pretty mild -- again, they seem to be having trouble getting girls to show up and match up with their online schedules, though it was sweet to see Libra finally turn up.  Sadly, she turned in her exotic black curls for a more Tyra Banks hairdo, but she remained hot.  Sadly, not nearly enough of the hot girls I expected turned up, at least not that early in the afternoon.

This may be it for me in May -- Claudia Monet was back, more on her in a bit, but a booking I recall for one Ashley Andrews seems to have dried up, and it looks like my Jada won't be back till late summer.  There's one gal, Gina Mond, who looks damn fine, I may come back for her, but that'll be pretty much it.

You know, we fought Fascism and we're getting some handle on racism, but now I must contend with a prejudice of my own -- facism.  A girl doesn't have quite the right face and that tends to throw me off.  Yesterday, though, I seriously had to reconsider that.  One dancer, I'll call her Toti, had a rather weak face, but her dancing and her attitude was so strong that I had to say to myself, Be sure to try her once in a while.  That happened with a few girls today.  I call it the Letha Weapons factor -- Letha's not the first girl I'd pick based on her still photography, but you see her in action and bam! it's a whole other dimension of appeal.

Anyhow, I got to try one new house girl and Claudia almost simultaneously, but first I'll talk a bit about the show.  Claudia came over and hugged and kissed just before the show, and she talked me up a little on stage too.  The dance was not that unique -- her skirt seemed bizarrely "fat" at first, took me a while to realize she was flingin' off layer after layer -- but she's good with the tease: Hmm, should I expose my knockers or not?  Should I pull off my g-string or not?  Hmm!  She got into it pretty good with us folk seated at the stage: I got to pour water all over her breasts and snatch, and she camped it up very nicely with one enthusiastic woman with very shallow breasts who was still game for lifting her braless top and exposing them so that Claudia could lez out a little with her -- good stuff.

Gotta split right this second to have breakfast with my sweet graying parents -- but I shall return to talk about one great find of a house girl, plus a booth dance with Claudia ... and a bodacious phantom in a leopardskin dress.  Hmm!

[DruulEmpire]

I'm calling her Houston, and not just because there was a porn star, I think a momentary fave of Howard Stern's, calling herself Houston.  She's a short young black-haired beauty, not a beauty in a glam way but just a very clear sharp fresh way, you worry that a sitcom might snatch her up.  Anyway, she was walking around with a goo-enough build in a nicely clinging white shirt, and I'd struck up some rapport with her during her dance.  In fact -- funny, I almost forgot to mention -- when I first came in there was still some tutorial going on between veteran dancers and newer ones, it was sweet to see.  A lot of discussion -- "Do what you feel," "Is hanging upside down on the pole overrated?" and "How do you 'glide' wearing these GIGANTIC platform shoes?"  Though newer, Houston was in a position to try to help the newest girls yet.

Anyway, right after Claudia's show I simply stood my ground and Houston kinda-sorta wound her way to me.  I bought her a Coors and we talked a bit -- the back-and-forth politics over banning smoking in local bars, raising her two-year-old, some of my own background -- and eventually I figured All right, get a dance off this one.  She did nicely to, very generously, she even waited and chatted with me PAST a song till a next one she liked even better came on, first time I've seen a girl do that for me.  (I gotta wonder  what the security thinks of me: the girls keep lingering with me and occasionally sticking their heads out and saying "I'm on my way out, honest!" )  Her repertoire wasn't that wide, none of that romantic "head past my shoulder," but she suggestively "rode" me VERY nicely, plus she seemed to have fun.  At one point (and I remind everyone that, yes, I stay clothed) she blurted "I like your dick, it's so nice and so hard!"  It's an easy enough line, I know, but she made it in such an easy, chatty, offhanded way, with a kind of cheery eagerness to divulge the information -- what can I say, she made an impression.  Definitely I'll have to see her again.

As I say, she snagged me right after Claudia's show -- so I come out of the booths and Claudia hugs me, having worried where I'd gotten to.  She has her wares out on a table and chats up another guy for a couple of minutes, but then she packs up and comes back with.  Sad to say, she's not as up on boob-smothering as she used to be -- a shame, because she has a great pair -- but she's very sensuous.  Bit of trivia: Claudia has hung with various rockers and even had a personal performance of her own in the soundtrack for her show, and evidently "catching one" is road talk for masturbating, as in "They caught me catching one," and evidently a good compliment to a woman is "I'm going to catch one in your honor."  Upshot of all this is that security took a Polaroid of me with Claudia -- IN THE BOOTH, which is a first, since they're usually out in the public area, and I do say it looks hot, our eyes were closed and you could see her "altogether."  She signed it "Catch one for me!" and I told "I'm going to catch a FEW for you," which she appreciated.

And that was about it.  Footnote: in other shit goin' down around this Forum, one woman peeked in here and then opted out -- but not before exchanging a few PMs with me.  Evidently she lives in my area, and she's keeping a hope alive of sighting her.  So throughout those two hours I had to wonder if I would catch sight of a certain Bodacious Mature Woman with Long Dark Hair With a Vague Sophie Marceau Vibe to Her Face, possibly even in a leopardskin dress with matching shoes.  She never showed, and perhaps she never will -- ahh, but if she DOES, sports fans, you're hearing it here first.

[berkovw]

You going to go check out Teri Weigel Druul?

[DruulEmpire]

I was leaning to passing -- but I'll tell you what, talk me into it and I'll go!

[berkovw]

Quote:
I was leaning to passing -- but I'll tell you what, talk me into it and I'll go!

What can I say other than she's a living legend?  It'd be like seeing Jenna Jameson or Traci Lords or Christy Canyon or Tiffany Towers.

Now, I'm not going, but that's just because I'm saving my money for my cross-country vacation, but if I weren't doing that, I'd definitely think about going.

[DruulEmpire]

Today fucking took me by storm.  It was sweet.  It was expensive, but it was sweet.

Thanks go out to Berk, especially for the magic words "Tabitha Towers."  He convinced me to go, and I just wish he could have struck up the discussion even earlier, so I could hit up the ol' ATM for one more day in advance -- but I was able to squeak by.

EVERYTHING was a little bit different today.  The veteran busty blonde bartender has been training the newer cleavage-blessed brunette bartender, and the brunette not only served me but chatted me up a little, rare that the bartenders and I say much of anything, as they tend to stick to girls' talk or chat up other customers.  Anyhow, this sweetie talked to me about how she loved to read and write all the time, how she kept journals and computer files and felt she had a book in her.  I'll have to pursue that topic with her at a later date.

First dancer up was Tommie (see above), and she was stuck at first with some song with lyrics like "I hate you," which didn't sound exactly conducive.  After her dance she 'fessed that she was feeling dragged out and tired from all she had don in the past dozen or so hours, but you couldn't prove it by me, she had fun with each observer she locked eyes with and kept flinging herself higher up that pole and hanging herself off it.  Anyhow, I sat down for the second song, and when I heard who was next, a nice-enough gal who just didn't have Tommie's mystique, I decided to get Tommie in the booth.

And I STAYED in that booth with her, for seven songs straight.  I don't know what the hell happened, but I damn near fell in love with Tommie today.  She is one darkly exotic and petite stick of dynamite, that's been established -- but she tried so much and was fun to listen to.  Her story is that she's among the youngest of eighteen(!!!) [censored], her mother has had twin and triplets.  Naturally, I asked if she had any sisters -- and you can thank your stars, male readers, that she said Yes, because we're talkin' primo DNA here.  Evidently one sister of hers is a  Victoria's Secret model, and I'm inclined to open that possibility.  She talked about all kinds of stuff, like how an autistic savant who could play Beethoven had a crush on her back in school (good taste, I'd say), or how she's raising pit bulls ("misunderstood," she says of them) and the occasional python and cobra.  She also admits that she did once ask -- with all the charming naivete of Shannon Elizabeth in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back -- "What's a trouser snake?"

She charmed my own snake just fine.  She became very loving did an interesting move of standing sideways against me and still getting in a smooth pelvic grind.  She also massaged my neck and hands, and we were able to sneak past recent rules against boob touching, as she inspected my hands for possible carpal tunnel while my hands in turn inspected her full soft B-cups, looking quite formidable on so small a  woman.

Anyhow, I enjoyed her -- and was willing to take a pass on the other stage dancers -- so damn much that she was into me for seven dances, a small fortune, and if I may say, not the wisest of moves to make when Teri Weigel is the headliner.

I cam back out and was able to snag one last spare seat at the corner of the stage, in time for Teri ... more on that in a moment or two ...

[DruulEmpire]

Tommie actually talked up Teri a bit -- not all girls always do that for the headliner -- and called her a legend and said she had kept in great shape.  After Tommie gave me an extra hug and kiss, Teri's show was unlike any I'd seen before, as it was not show in the usual sense.  Like Lovette, she had her own lead-in announcement -- mentioning in passing something to the effect of her having played Al Bundy's fantasy wife on Married ... With Children.  (I took that as auspicious -- hey, anything to whittle down the "six degrees of separation" between myself and Christina Applegate!)  Then Teri came out and did not really strip so much as walked around lip-syncing and checking us out individually, while falling right out of her clothes.  She's a solidly built woman with a nice sultry face crowned in black hair, but what struck me most of all is how comfortable she is in her nudity, I mean, she could have been an accidentally nude TV news anchor, she was so nonchalant.  She went around suggesting fellatio and such -- she was not as athletically into it as I had seen, say, Claudia Monet her first time, but we applauded the spirit.  After the song she got a mic and talked up the audience.  I've never seen any headliner call for a cheer for the girls of the bar -- she even mentioned the buffet, for crying out loud.  (Now, that's just TOO generous.)

Next, she wanted to know if anyone was celebrating anything special.  One man at the stage claimed to have just gotten back out of prison for some gun charge of which he claimed innocence.  Teri alternately teased -- she was giving out a lot of what I call mamma-slamma to various audience members -- and kidded him.  "Can a white man dance?" she dared him, and he gave a ... shall we say, forgettable try.  Grappling with him, she got panties on him and declared "You're one of us now!" and tried to get him to pole dance.  Eventually she sat him back down, and for her third song she simply made her rounds giving out kisses and mamma-slamma -- but not without reaching into one man's underwear and yanking it so far up that he could wear it over one shoulder.

There was a fair line immediately after the show waiting to catch her in private -- and damned if Brigham (see above) didn't flash her highest wattage smile at me and seize right on me.  I had to tell her that I was "taken," and she enthusiastically talked about the other night.  Evidently someone was there for his 21st birthday, and Teri got him and a friend up on stage and performing a suggestion of doggie style on each other.  Vulgar, shameless, go-for-it ... the attraction of this Weigel woman was dawning on me.  Anyhow, I'm left to wonder why Brigham is latching onto me so magnetically ... I'll owe her sometime ...

I was the second of three getting dances with Teri, and my dance came up ...

[DruulEmpire]

I got a Polaroid off Teri first, and it is a fine one, she looks really alive and sassy in it, a total sex kitten.  (I've only lately been into Polaroids but have five so far -- and hope to show a previous one to a gal coming back next month.)  A dance with her was quite a proposition -- I had just wrecked my ship with Tommie, and now Teri was charging $120, that's DOUBLE any ordinary headliner's rate -- but I was in.

I'm not altogether sure how I feel about Teri -- she's sweet and sexy enough, but she's such a industrious whirlwind dating machine, I couldn't figure if she a bit cynical or maybe a bit tired.  After all, she had three more shows coming up in the next twelve hours, and I was the second of three customers.

Anyway, she sat me down and did a bit of an interview -- always awkward, because I'm always trying NOT to think or talk about work -- especially with Teri Weigel, c'mon!  Anyway, she could tell I was a relatively sedate guy and started cozying up.

Have to say, these days, with the restored touchiness about breast play, it's always refreshing when a woman actually GRABS my hands and plants them on her breasts, sort of a declaration of All bets are off.  I approve of Teri's huge rack -- augmented, of course, but whereas I've had an attraction-repulsion thing going, fascinated by the sheer size but wondering at the hardness, hers managed to be both big and quite pliable, great to play with.  She also gave me several good smotherings with them.

A lot of the song got wasted on her trying to jack me off.  Maybe this is a point of pride, or even of ego, with some sex stars, but I know my own neurology best and nothing -- sorry, not even Teri (who already begins to loom larger than the great Lovette in my estimation) -- can jack me that easily, I need either my own fantasy-intensive patient handling or The Big V, no alternatives.  So she finally relented a bit, and stretched all over me and began moaning nicely -- and that was the song.

So there I was like a crack addict, plunking down the last twenties and tens I had -- and I was right, it was the correct investment, because the second song REALLY heated up.  At one point I had a good cycle of breasts-hips-ass-hips-brrasts, over and over, and we had a good suggestive gallop going as she knelt on top of me.  I'm thankful that she's not too damn gentle with me, she got right one me and I bore her weight, and my face happily bore the pressure of her great cleavage.  The second song worked out to be a really great sultry moment.  We hugged, and she hoped I had some great memories, and I told her "I see what all the excitement about you is all about."

And, man, I had to tear out of there.    A VERY expensive day, but one that really resonates in the memory.

I do hope that's something like what Berk wanted.

[berkovw]

That's an awesome story.  I'm glad I was able to talk you into it.  I wish I could have gone and seen Teri too.  I hope, much like Lovette, that she'll come this way again.

[Zorro]

If you consider it a sport to sit in a tree stand all day long with a bow or a gun just to put food in your freezer.. you might live in Pittsburgh  

 

If you're proud that your region makes the national news 96 nights each year because Bradford is the coldest spot in the nation, you might live in Pittsburgh .  

 

If your local Dairy Queen is closed from November through March, you might live in Pittsburgh .  

 

If you instinctively walk like a penguin for five months out of the year, you might live in Pittsburgh .  

 

If someone in a store offers you assistance, and they don't work there, you might live in Pittsburgh ; because you're all so damn friendly.  

 

If you have ever worn shorts, sunglasses and a parka at the same time, you might live in Pittsburgh .  

 

If your town has an equal number of bars and churches, or if you are in church and your priest or minister asks you to pray for the STEELERS, and wants to get you all home for 1 p.m. kickoff you might live in Pittsburgh.  

 

If you have had a lengthy telephone conversation with someone who dialed a wrong number, you might live in Pittsburgh .

YOU KNOW YOU ARE A TRUE Pittsburgher when:

1. "Vacation" means going up north past I-80 for the weekend.

2. You measure distance in hours.

3. You know several people who have hit a deer more than once.

4. You often switch from "heat" to "A/C" in the same day and back again.

5. You can drive 65 mph through 2 feet of snow during a raging blizzard, without flinching.

6. You see people wearing camouflage at social events including weddings.

7. You install security lights on your house and garage and leave all the doors unlocked.

8. You carry jumper cables in your car and your wife knows how to use them.

9. You design your kid's Halloween costume to fit over a snowsuit.

10. Driving is better in the winter because the potholes are filled with snow.

11. You know all 4 seasons: almost fall, winter, still winter and road construction.

12. You can identify a southern or eastern accent.

13. Your idea of creative landscaping is a concrete statue of a deer next to your blue spruce.

14. You were unaware that there is a legal drinking age.

15. Down South to you means MORGANTOWN WV .

16. You find '0' degrees "a little chilly."

17. Your neighbor throws a party to celebrate his NEW FORD F150

18. You go out to fish fry every Friday and bingo every Wednesday.

19. Your 4th of July picnic was moved indoors due to frost.

20. You have more miles on your snow blower than your car.

21. You actually understand these jokes, and you forward them to all your Pittsburgh friends.

 

[Shimmerin]

Well zorro.  you pegged us.

[DruulEmpire]

Ummm ... thanks, Zorro.  Oddly enough, I can relate to the shorts, sunglasses and parka ensemble; I would never wear it, but the odd weather certainly makes it a downright sensible temptation at times.

Time for a new report -- and sometime later this night, I'll need to talk things out a bit, but first the report.  Oddly enough, this was a good day fro breaking in relatively new gals.  Some established favorites were around -- good to catch Esmerelda in passing -- but I went for three firsts.

My first first was Ramba -- if I scroll back, I think I'd caught her before, but she was up and alone on a relatively lonely afternoon (it was that rare kind of afternoon when a couple of guys actually picked up and walked away from their stage seats in the middle of the headliner's show, a shame).  Clear sharp features, long straight dark hair, very athletic, smiles easily -- in sum, a lot of fun, very girly despite her macho name.  We had a great rapport going, so I decided to snatch her up for one dance.  And another new talent crawls up my list.

No sooner did I recuperate from her that I came out in time to catch a girl who was brand new, who later confided to me that this was the third shift she ever worked, so I was happy to show her the ropes (heh-heh) -- no, not ropes per se, but the booths.  She went by the name Romance, which was awfully ironic, because she looked FINE but in an almost antiromantic way.  She had the body of some sculpted lust object, some lean hard beach girl with long blonde hair, a vague Shannon Elizabeth look to the face, and nice round large apples for breasts, clearly augmented and yet not staggering (at least, not yet -- one may hope).  Rare that I care much about areolae, but hers were light and large.  She looked so fine that I immediately had to snatch her away as well.  In the booth she assured me of her professionalism, and went a fair way to proving it.

Ramba and Romance behind me, it was time for headliner Angelica Wild -- and what was wild was how she reminded me somewhat of last week, she was a kind of Teri Weigel Lite, n one of the raucous behavior, but a petite gal with big dark hair and very solidly built with good large breasts, likewise very comfortable in an Eve-before-the-Fall way with her nakedness.  She came out and did a bit of a schoolgirl uniform thing, which in combination with her smallness sort of unnerved me at first, but she got naked in no time and then I could concentrate on the woman.  I think she's still trying to find her way through her act -- somehow I got a distinct vibe of a former house girl, and she told me she had indeed been a house girl for several years before plying the road.  Anyhow, we immediately got a good eye conversation going through her dance and she came around to tease me with her full fun breasts a couple times.  SHE DID THE PEC FLEX -- hadn't seen that since our own house girl Cathedral, who I've not seen around in an age now.

In the booth, Angelica complimented me on my good reputation -- we were left alone to work out our own number of songs; with more usual customers that has to be nailed down beforehand, but I'm cool.  She comes all the way from Kentucky, but I would have taken her for a Jersey girl.  Anyhow, she was very loving and sighing and purring, not giving me quite enough mamma-slamma (but I NEVER get enough of that!) but grinding all over me and pushing her whole body up and down along me.  Like Teri before her, she climbed right on top of my body and worked from there; I always really appreciate that initiative.

I looked around and the remaining girls seemed taken care of with enough bar patrons, so I scooted out -- and I think I'll stay out, and pretty much call it a month.  I was tempted to come back in this evening, what with the online dancer lineup promised, but I feel curiously content, so that will be that.

And sometime in the night, I'll talk about how I'm seeing the rest of this year ...

[DruulEmpire]

June should see the return of Tanya Taylor and perhaps someone named Schevelle.  "My" Jada may not return till August, if then, but my eyes are always open.  There was once an intriguing mention of one Ashley Andrews, but she's not on the calendar anymore.

As this thread plods along by sheer text to match the Silicone Stella thread in viewability, I'm going to indulge here in an open brainstorming ramble -- so if anyone is inclined to roll eyes and moan "Druul being verbose again," they can scroll down to some post beginning with the word ACTION!  I may also number some points -- last time I did that, I got parodied like I was trying to be all huffy-stuffy, but kindergarteners know how to count, for goodness sakes, so I'll do it anyway.

Some realizations I've made along this semi-journalistic journey:

1. There are indeed other clubs in the area, but Blush remains the easiest for me to get to, although it should not be too hard for me to get to Beemer's and technically I could WALK from my apartment to Cricket's.  I continue to prefer it for a few reasons.  I keep track of ads, both in the City Paper and the local Go-Go! magazine, and I keep seeing nice-enough girls featured in the ads, but none yet have made me think "Dayum, got to branch out."  This is not to say that all Blush girls are amazing -- but with an ever-revolving stable of sixty or more, and with an owner who seems to have both a good eye and good sense, I find that there are several who look good, and a few among those who both look good and are great to hang out with, plus several more who are not classically dazzling but grow on you quite easily.  Also, with the notable exception of Ricky Raxxx turning up at another club, I continue to appreciate the fact that Blush seems to be the only place in town to keep on featuring headliners -- and there is another, even deeper, reason I find myself having become somewhat loyal to the place, but I'll touch on that later.

2. Ever since beginning to make this an off-and-on habit since December 2005, I've come to the conclusion that the strip club is simply one of the most magnificent inventions of civilization.  There was a time when my dream job was a toss-up between being someone like Robert Osborne, hosting movies for a channel like TCM, or being involved in some way with space tourism, like Burt Rutan and Richard Branson seem to be attempting out New Mexico way.  Now I also wonder what it would be like to run this sort of club.  Much of the devotion comes from the fact that I find myself hooked on this sort of live entertainment most of all.  Shocking but true, I don't think I've seen more than twenty adult videos in my life, and I don't feel that shortchanged, whatever I've seen of video has felt rather tedious, clinical, even unappetizing.  I was never a big magazine collector, and now about the only ones I pick up anymore are the autographed premiums handed out by the headliners.  And dare I admit it, I've downloaded quite a few pictures from the BEA, and whereas once I could happily sit down to a "slide show" of them all just flicking by, it's been ages now since I did that.  Nothing seems to be doing it for me anymore quite like the live dimension.

(more to come ... )

[DruulEmpire]

(Just declared invalid -- really shoots down the spontaneous flow of consciousness there, gotta say.  All right, try again ... )

3. Hitting the club has been a pleasant surprise.  Time was I would only pop in to catch, say, Lisa Lipps, and my attitude at first was to concentrate on the headliners.  Now I'm thinking a decent ad would say "Come for the feature entertainers, stay for the house girls," because that has been very much my experience.  And as for the men, I have to admit, I once thought of these places as "square," as watering holes for middle level executives with middle age crises to smoke and drink and crack lousy jokes and generally act like douches.  In fact, the patronage is still pretty sorry (hey, I'M there), but that only makes sense, it;s a therapeutic place and those who need therapy will tend to look it.  That said, I like the mix.  You get the quietly rich and the openly poor, the mischievous old and the crew-cutted young, black and white, the kid in the wheelchair, mere gawkers like myself and those who actually like to drink (it IS a bar, I have to keep reminding myself).  The soundtrack often relies on the Eighties, but that's all right by me.

4. I also have to admit I was still a bit brainwashed when I first checked it out.  I wondered if the girls would look and act all disconnected, like they were biding time and would much rather be somewhere else.  Fact is, nothing has sold me on the healthfulness of stripping more than the strippers themselves.  Many of these gals are simply cool people -- they could look like gawky geeks with no bod to speak of and they would still be cool.  They're up and raring to go.  One thing to keep in mind is that they're not simply part of "the sex industry," that it is flatly dumb to lump in strippers with porn starlets or even Nevada hookers.  Strippers are sexual illusionists, not sexual exhibitionists like the starlets; they sell not SEX but SEXUALITY, and God only knows the world needs more sexuality.  But you never know who you'll meet -- Ramba, one of the house girls I got a dance with in my last report, is a fellow Pitt graduate.    You get the world-travellers, the ones raising toddlers, the ones with exotic pets or talents or lifestyles.  Prejudice would teach us they're the walking dead; fact is, these are just about the liveliest women I've ever met -- and I do mean offstage.

[DruulEmpire]

All right, so now I've got to ask: where am I going with this?

If I were a millionaire, I could, and might, indulge this endlessly -- but I'm barely much even much of a thousandaire.  Perhaps more to the point, I owe it to myself to ask: Sure, this is wonderful therapy -- but therapy towards what?

If a man simply wants to hang with strippers to his dying day, I understand and I applaud him.  Unfortunately, I am not that man.

The upshot of all this thinking about what it's costing and where it's going is that I'll still keep going, but I'll need to cut back the visits.

What complicates things a bit is that there is now a bit of a social bond going on.  It's nice to go right in and already have the beer waiting.  It's nice to be trusted and admired by the club's gofer.  It's nice to get chatted up by the charming busty new bartender.  And what is nicest of all is walk into an upside-down world where being a man is a prize rather than a liability.  On the right night, you sit at a table, and pow, from out of a crowd of men "hot German Heidi" locks eyes on you and comes over for a drink.  It's a powerful concept, that of prime beauties lining up and stalking you, aching for a chance to get you alone and shuck their dresses right off and dry-hump half to death.  It's also an expensive illusion, but it's been worth it.  And while I am only one patron, there only on occasion, I like the spark of recognition in their eyes, and I do want to keep that going.  So, I will keep going.

But what now?  Because I look over all this and I'm feeling a bit limited.  I'm not sure there are all that many ways I can describe a dancer or her dance, and I seem to have pretty much given up trying.  But even if I were to somehow channel the descriptive powers of F. Scott Fitzgerald, it still seems unfair.

Maybe it's time I tried to get this thread -- and in the process, myself -- a bit visual.  Don't know how that will go, how cool the club would be with pictures of any sort (I already know they don't like cameraphones) and if I would have to step off the premises or some such deal, but it seems a step worth considering.  It'll be work -- but then, I generally need to become more cyber-savvy anyway.

It's a thought.  Maybe I'll get cards printed up -- perhaps more on that later ...

One more reason I like the club.  It's an island of old Pittsburgh, the kind that would somehow manage NOT to make it into one of those Rick Sebak specials on the local PBS station.  It recalls a time when people remembered and understood what "quality of life" means, and evidently it's continually under siege from something called the Cultural Trust.  The more I learn of its history, the more I see of how nicely it's run, and the more I see of the patrons, and most of all the house girls, the more I know I've incorporated something into my life.  Maybe I'll own a club, or failing that, I'll get a "virtual club" started online, or simply try to sell a drama set in a club.

We spend our lives trying to sex up our existence.  The beauty of the club is, the sexuality is already a given, it's open, it's obvious.  Whatever is left is up to who we are as people.

(End of ramble, for today)

[MasterDragonfly]

Quote:
(Just declared invalid -- really shoots down the spontaneous flow of consciousness there, gotta say.  All right, try again ... )

Quick tip:

Instead of scribing inside the composition pane while logged in here, scribe to a plaintext editor like Notepad (or Notepad++ if you're so inclined).

Once done, click Reply in this thread, and copy/paste from Notepad to the composition pane.  Continue as usual.

Master "avoid using Word, as it's overkill" Dragonfly

[DruulEmpire]

I'm ba-ack.

Dragonfly -- someday I may bend your e-ear for all kinds of basic computer advice; for right now, I'll go on being a savage ...

Wild that I've lived long enough to squeeze the views-to-posts ratio of this thread to over 60:1, although by cheating, by posting nothing new at all -- and I HAVE been cheating, because I hung out with dancers one night and then Tanya Taylor another day -- but there were two bits of sad news on Tanya's day, and I like to keep this "up," so I'm crossing my fingers that the karmic swing of the universe will be with me to day as I check out this feature dancer Schevelle and that today will turn out fine -- if I'm feeling really ambitious, I may confirm that in a new report within the next 24 hours, and maybe even throw in notes from those last two visits.

Things are still up in the air -- still at this, still figuring out where to go with all this, still wondering about a phonecam, all of that -- but I DID go ahead with a secret project I call Operation Perversity.  What is Operation Perversity?  Let's just say I feel slightly different about the video careerists than the ones who primarily dance and model.  Zoe Britton is on her way here, and I will try a small Operation Perversity experiment with her -- nothing too outrageous, more silly than anything, I just hope something good comes of it.  Remember, you are forewarned.

Heading down within two hours, so wish me luck ...

[DruulEmpire]

I'll cover Tanya Taylor first.  I don't even remember the actual show so much, as the odd upside-down feel of the day.  The hottest, friskiest women were consistently just a little off my visual radar, their faces were relatively ordinary but their spirits were very high.  One black-haired girl chatted me up so nicely for so long at the bar that I couldn't not pass up a booth session, and there was one dancer, minded me of a young Streisand more than anyone else, but what can I say, she was great, athletic, had very good eye contact going -- I may try her.

But at the other end, there was Aria.  I've noted her before, very wantable, party machine sex kitten -- so I get her back, and I don't think I've ever seen a gal so unwound.  She was barely coherent, said something about a DUI charge, asked if I was a lawyer (that of course is a big No -- I suppose I should take it as a compliment that she'd ask).  It throws off my whole sense of Aria -- but you know what, in the stock market of strippers, one declines, and another like Lourdes becomes all the more intriguing, sort of filling out the same niche.  But I get ahead of myself.

Tanya Taylor gave me a great mamma-slamma time, and said she'd be back through in October -- but after that she retires to go into real estate.  It was an odd day like that, transitions and pushy surprises.

Luckily, I had a dancers-only day as well, and made two new acquaintances, one being Pace, who not only boasted of having been a champion athlete but proved it at both the pole and the booth, and another being Fallon, who I'd had my eye on, both as name and dancer, for a while and I finally got her.  How beautiful is Fallon?  I broach the subject in the booth by asking her if she ever saw Sin City, and she immediately talks about the prostitute, the girl who was in Gilmore Girls, so yeah, she does know that she's a ringer for Alexis Bledel.

That was my June, which I wrapped up yesterday with the Schevelle show.  A Texan, her first time up to Pittsburgh,  she had a good enough body and personality and optimism to burn, so how can you turn that down?  She came whirling out as a French maid, giving all kinds of peeks -- awfully retro, but still very nice.  We were teeth-plucking photos and cherries off her, and I usually mind cooterball -- I'm never good at it, but that day I was, got a huge and very nicely autoed picture off her.  Very friendly, easy to talk with -- I found myself giving her a brief history of Pittsburgh starting 250 years, for crying out loud.  I confessed to her I'm a boob man and she playfully worked in a lot of boob, though not so much what I would call "slamma."  She mentioned that she was in Penthouse, and they like to hear fan enthusiasm, hint-hint -- who knows, I may do something about that.

My Schevelle day was also nicely rounded out with Ramba, my fellow Pitt graduate, awfully friendly, and Libra, who continues to be damn beautiful and has her hair back in curls.  When she was dancing she enthused to me "I missed you!" and the feeling was mutual.  She was very jangly, more jewelry than usual, but her session was very thorough.

Somehow yesterday was when I paid especial attention to the bartenders, chatting about when and how they'd gotten laid.  It's an interesting team, the cynical great-looking blonde, the appraochable Aniston-like little brunette, and of course Ms. Zaftig Zoomers, I've noted her before.

Zoe Britton in three months -- I'll be there, along with Operation Perversity.  And so it goes.

[DruulEmpire]

Three months?  I meant three weeks -- sorry if that threw anyone off ..

The crowd was peculiarly hungry this noon.  A few men on the far side of the bar all were tucking into plates of the buffet, and talking too.  I don't think I've ever seen that much male bonding in the place.  Of the bartenders, the small coltish brunette was her ever chipper self, but the cynical blonde with the deep cleavage was also in an unusually good mood.

I went down prepared for Operation Perversity, and I didn't go through with it -- but maybe in two weeks' time.  More further down ...

This was my chance to catch Zoe Britton, so I was prepared to be cool to at least the opening dancer -- ah, but the opener was my sweet Ramba, so I had to go down and check her out, then hang on for all the subsequent dancers.  After Ramba was a new black dancer named, of all things, Elwell -- VERY good face, just a knockout face, good body, good attitude -- but eh, really not that into the dancing.  It was tempting time and again to ask her back to the booth, but I left her go.

Before I knew it, it was Zoe Britton time.  She was a rather hardbodied redhead who started out in a "torah-rah-boom-dee-ay" kind of costume and gradually stripped it off, and she was attractive enough and fun enough -- but you know what, I prefer when I feel something in my gut, a raging burning NEED for the woman, and somehow I never caught that spark.  She went around playfully sntching dollars into her cleavage, and then later she lubed herself up and we sort of papier-mached her a bit with dollars -- and that was about it.

So I was tempted to call it a day.  (No doubt some Zoe Britton fan out there is crying "Foul!" and might have reasons why I should not have passed her up,)  But there was that business with all the house girls up on stage all at once, and I checked that out -- and I almost automatically made a LOT of facial (and smiling) interplay with some sweet fresh busty young brunette known as Antonia.  We smiled a lot, and then the dance was over and Antonia hit the floor, and we sort of naturally chatted, and the next thing I knew I had in the booth for three dances.  So Antonia was the real find of the day, sweet and exuberant.  She said she was made for the job and I agreed.  She was particularly bosomy,  especially for such a sweet small (Italian, but from the metro area) girl, and all natural too -- not nearly as phenomenal as the twin naturals of hot German Heidi (see above), but very hefty in their own right.  Antonia took VERY good care of me, and I will have to see her again.

This worked out fairly well, I'd say, as it freed up more money for the science fiction convention here at Pittsburgh (Confluence) being run by the club PARSEC next weekend (27-29) down at the Doubletree by the airport, across from a Bob Evans.  With any luck, I may have cash left over for "my" Brandi Morgan come the beginning of August.  (Meanwhile, "my" house girl Kyra isn't back yet from her own hiatus, and I do miss her.)

A DJ announcement (not confirmed yet of the website) is that Ashlynn Grant will come at the end of August.  Ashlynn Grant  -- now that is a name from the past, I think even from before I began this thread nearly a year ago.  She took my breath away back then, and I hope she does again.

So for now, science fiction and then one of my fave gals Brandi Morgan, possibly followed by Ashlynn Grant.  Suddenly the summer is really looking up ...    

[DruulEmpire]

Before anything, I officially bow down before the coolness that is fellow Pittsburgher Shimmerin, who by now has probably  already completed his own pilgrimage to Ohio to catch THE Chelsea Charms.  I salute you and await any word you can share with us, Shim.

Things were looking bad on a couple of fronts.  I was at a science fiction convention, where there seems to be a peculiar statistical clumping together of large shapeless "earth mother" types of women, quite plain and almost sexless to the eye -- many of them great people, just not that stimulating at first glance.  As if to overcompensate, there were a few INSANELY hawt attendees but, of course, they were already spoken for.  And then on top of that, one Taya Parker, who I dubbed Tornado Parker last time she was out here, snubbed Blush altogether and went out to some place in Smithton.

But if you want my concept of paradise -- barring the staggering dimensions of a Chelsea Charms -- then find yourself the August issue of The Go-Go! Magazine (a local Pittsburgh rag rather informally distributed) and open it to pages 20 and 21 and BAM, you'll see not only one of my faves, Brandi Morgan, and the way-too-long return of the mysterious beautiful Ashlynn Grant, but the appearance of Miss Nude Universe '04 Jada DeVille, my OTHER favorite -- and they're ALL in August.  Last time an August was this memorable, I caught one of Sade's last concerts in 2001 -- that's right, just before 9-11.

And as if all that were not enough, I finally decided to proceed with Operation Perversity.

I went twice, first for the "businessman's lunch" on Thursday evening.  I was planning to skip all the house girls -- ehh, but I got very pleasantly surprised by one I'd somehow never caught before, and she turned out to be a real veteran too, in and out of the place since the Nineties.  I'm calling her Lockley.  She was a classic, with big augmented (yet still very soft) breasts and ash-blonde tresses.  She generally gave the vibe of "a broad who's been around," and she was GREAT as a private dance.  Only downside: she immediately tried to tweak my nipples.  I swear, a woman meets maybe one man who digs that and she tries it on everyone.  But she learned that I am in fact quite sensitive, which delighted her ... and then she concentrated on climbing all over me and loving me up.  I always appreciate it when the dancers exercise the discretion of get my hands all over their breasts, and there was plenty to get hold of with Lockley.  Definitely a must-repeat.

It was getting to be Brandi time, so I initiated Operation Perversity ...

[DruulEmpire]

Those who have checked out my Addventure episodes may not be too surprised by this operation.  When I first considered it, I thought it might change things radically, requiring a whole other story besides my already being "Murdock."  (And may I say, I've had the damnedest luck with the name, half the time I get called "Murlock."  A tribute to King Arthur's wizard?  Or to the world's first consulting detective?  Or one of those repulsive monsters threatening poor Yvette Mimieux in the original -- and best -- movie of The Time Machine by H. G. Wells?  You decide.  Anyway, it's the name of a street one block away from me.)  But I've cooled off since, and come to think of it as more of a joke and even a naughty compliment, something that may never really need to get discussed at all, as the club is a low-lit gathering place for hijinks (within reason).

Simply put, Perversity is a false penis with a five-inch screw hammered up its center.  I ducked into the men's room, shoved it in place between my boxers and my jockeys, and came back out with a Barnes and Noble shopping back for cover.  I already had a healthy e-mail discussion going on with Brandi beforehand, and hinted I was up to something -- and while we had a very good dance, she betrayed no indication of her reaction one way or the other.  Of course, she may have figured "This has got to be faked" and politely left it aside -- and so did I.

And the operation may have been left there, an apparent washout, were it not for how things perked up when I returned for the Friday matinee ...

[DruulEmpire]

Come Friday, my main misgiving over Perversity was having to duck again and again into the men's room -- the matinee's the best time for such behavior, since they don't insist on the whole "businessman's lunch" deal of "Here, let us take that for you," they just leave you be -- but still, I would have preferred more stealth and control.  Quite simply, it's a challenge keeping the thing in place.  Might undersized jockeys help?  I've got two weeks to figure this out.

I'd been slightly disappointed by Brandi resorting to the "schoolgirl" motif at last evening's dance, but she did a good pinstriped businesswoman theme this time.  As before, she got herself squirted all over with lotion, then had us bite pictures clinging to her breasts.  I found that she seemed more open this time around and we chatted more freely while she wriggled all over me and permitted me far more mammary manhandling than during her last visit.  Somehow we got to talking about how impressed she is by the Blush girls (what can I say, I agree) and we both settled on one new up-and-rising gal named Phoenix, whom Brandi said reminded her of an early Jenna Jameson.  Yes, I've got to try Phoenix -- to report to Brandi, of course!

I did learn, rather unfortunately, that Brandi's not very gracious.  She had a poor opinion of everyone from the Amish (she lives out in a famously Amish part of Pennsylvania) to Nineties big-bust stars.  (I just let that slide.)  It did rather newly color my overall sense of her -- but when she's loyal she's loyal, and she's already signed up to rock in the New Year.

On Perversity, she did note "It's huge!" and asked me quite seriously about my "treatment" of it, but I gathered she was very take-it-or-leave-it.  At least it did not appear to in any way sour or alienate her.

But before Brandi, there was Monaco -- not to be confused with Monica or Monique or whoever.  Yet again, I was planning to let the house girls slide -- but I was intrigued that day, especially with Perversity in my jockeys, by this evidently new girl Monaco, who took to me very directly right away without ever seeing me below rib level, a very cheerful clear-faced can-do brunette who sort of reminded me of Ramba (see above).  So, with time yet before Brandi, I figured "Why not?"  So we talked a while at the bar, and it turns out not only that we're both very Burgh but that we both LOVE the neighborhood of Squirrel Hill.

In the booth we got underway and she flinched slightly at Pervesity's hardness and proceeded smoothly and very quickly became very lovey-dovey, and she too climbed all over me and let her at her very full soft breasts.  What interested me was that as she rubbed up and down me, against Perversity, one two occasions she murmured, as if thinking out loud, "I want to see you again.  The friction and attention that Perversity got from her seemed to increase, and though the place was cooled she began to shimmer with a fine sweat as she nuzzled against me and whispered "Fuck ... !" into my ear out of nowhere.  That particular action verb is rather useless in the booth, I must say -- sure, it's what you're thinking, but also pointedly avoiding.  She seemed intent on seeing me again -- but for my personality (yes, I do have one) or Perversity?  It's an interesting puzzle -- interesting enough to try more of this in the future.

Meanwhile, "my" Kyra still isn't back yet, after months now.  If she could make it back before August's end, now, that would be way cool.  

I guess that's it for now ...

[DruulEmpire]

Today was a quick, simple, but still very sweet rendezvous with the gal who is probably my one favorite dancer thus far, Jada DeVille.  What's wacky is that I think my reliance on Operation Perversity (see above) is constraining my visits back towards their original limits.  Evenings are too crowded and too monitored for me to feel at ease with Perversity, so I've got myself back to the noon schedule -- and preferably, of course, I'd be catching a feature dancer, so that would leave me just one hour to try a house girl, since the feature would perform by 1 PM and then hanging around with house girls while the feature girl continues to linger about is just awkward.  So I've got to oblige myself to try one house girl before 1 PM -- and the hell of it is, there was a good selection up there who I simply waited out, and I'm kicking myslef a little over that.  Estee, a Kirsten-Dustish whitish-blonde gal who I got a private dance from a long time back (see) was up and was NOT retreating into her microphone act, she seemed more at ease with it all.  The fun and busty Ramba was also up.  One interesting new one was up, who I can't help but think of as "nice Jewish girl gone so bad" -- I'm code naming her Adieu.  And then sweet soft-featured Lourdes was locking eyes with in a mirror while standing directly behind me -- but dagnabbit, it was right before Jada's performance, at that point I wasn't budging for anyone.  But there will be other interesting Fridays -- the mysterious and lovely Ashlynn Grant reappears after something on the order of a twenty month hiatus two weeks from now, and some star of Playboy and Penthouse and so forth named Lexie Karlsen the week after, so I'll be back for those -- and for that matter, there will always be many weekday noons, it's all a matter of how good (and reliable) the online dancer schedule is looking.

Jada came out in a standard black feathery bikini which had a "showgirl" look about it, and she toyingly stripped it off nicely by really kicking up one athletic storm.  Turned out to be a firestorm, as Jada settled into a circus-like act of fire-eating and brushing fire over her limbs and breasts and  pussy, wrapping up with giant alcohol-fueled breaths of fire worthy of a dragon.  I appreciate the courage and talent, but frankly I'm glad when that sort of thing is all over.  Then she slapped pictures onto her body for us to bite off,  and that was pretty much the show.

Update flash: the November Gent (which for all I know may already be out) should be featuring Jada.

I took her back for a couple of dances, and she was very nice, saying that I "made her lunch," so to speak, with my bearlike growling (in a nice way) over her body and boobs.  In fact, she said she missed my notes -- wayu back when I was getting used to this, I slipped "PRIVATE DANCE?" notes to the features, and she misses that!  Closest thing to a sentimental chord I think I've ever forged with one of these dancers, and I'm glad it's Jada.

She accused me of having failed to e-mail her, but of course I had.  I seized the moment to make her the first official recipient of one of my druulempire@hotmail.com business cards.  She asked where I got my name, and I gave the short (though wrong) answer: Voltron.  This led her to confess to being a grown-up tomboy who lived by the old Transformer TV cartoons and enjoyed the hell out of this movie that's out.

She'll be back in December, I'm guessing right ahead of Brandi.  

And speaking of Brandi, soon I've got to bug her about sending me that pic of her and Ashlynn Grant, who I'll be catching in two short weeks.  After all, fingers crossed, I should be hearing from Jada ...