1 comments/ 25021 views/ 5 favorites Tales Of The Lap-Danced By: slightly_distracted I wish I could say that I had my first strip club experience as some form of male bonding ritual where a group of friends felt that I had come to a certain age and that this was something that needed to be experienced or celebrated. But it's all far from that. I barely had a vague notion of what went on in a strip club even into my late teens. Even past the age of 18 when I could get into one I was pretty much in the dark. None of my friends seemed to pick up on it and it wasn't until I was 22 that I stumbled into a strip club in one of the seedier parts of downtown Denver. I remember my roaming the city as a victim of both insomnia and mild altitude sickness and happening upon this place that was open at one o'clock in the morning. The experience was pretty low key. The truth be told had it not been for some stripper that had "befriended" me that night I probably would of left within 5 minutes of entering the door. She obviously saw how uninitiated I was and managed to cash in on me by getting me to come back the next night so she could perform a lap dance for me. The dance, like the club, and the woman now that I think about it, were pretty forgettable. Had it not been for the fact that it was my first time I probably would have forgotten about it entirely. But now that it is years later and I have become some sort of de-facto Grand Pubah among my friends for initiating them into the world of strip clubs and the inherent male bonding that comes with it, the place holds some weird sort of sentimentality for me. Enough so that the last time I was in Denver I felt obligated to take a walk by it when I was downtown. With this less than spectacular experience under my belt it's kind of a wonder that I stepped foot into one ever again. But somehow I did, and I brought one of my closest friends along with me. I laugh about it now, how naive and out of place we must have looked at the time. We were both pretty poor and blew through our designated thirty dollars worth of "funny money" in under an hour. But the place was decent to us, and local. They treated us just as well as the high rollers and the dancers must have taken pity on us. The lap dances still to this point in time were pretty unremarkable. At best I could hope for a small mis-step and might actually end up making some form of physical contact. But most times the only thing I got out of it was half a stiffie and some feigned interest in conversation. Most times I could look in their eyes and see them mentally going through their grocery list. Years later I ended up working as a bouncer in a strip club. It wasn't a great job despite what every guy that likes strip clubs will try and tell you. When you see the same half dozen or so pieces of tail paraded around for eight hours straight while you sit six yards away checking IDs, smoking cigarettes and drinking bad coffee it gets old quick. If anything I think I was hoping that taking that job would cure my mild fascination with strip clubs and the culture inherent to them. Nothing bad could probably come out of me never stepping into one ever again. Like many things in life I ended up being wrong, especially about this one. Late one Sunday afternoon I was told to drop by the club to see one of the other bouncers for one reason or another. There was a "private party" going on for some nameless group of people and my stopping by to conduct some minor business and have a beer or two wouldn't be all that disruptive to them. I got in the door and immediately I spied one of the dancers whom I had struck up a repoir with. Her name was Kelly. She stood about five foot six inches and had long black hair with a blonde streak in it. She had smallish breasts and a cute face. She always wore knee-high vinyl boots and had an attitude that made up for all that she may have been a little short on. Kelly stood completely naked (aside from her boots) at the end of the stage and waved for me to come over. The place was pretty empty. Come to find out later that it was the last hour and a half of a bachelor party that had long since broken up. So I saddled up to a stool next to the stage and said a polite hello. Kelly slapped the counter in front of me with her palm and instructed me to put down a one dollar bill. I took out my wallet and did as she'd instructed. She took the one dollar bill and proceeded to lean forward and cram my entire head between her breasts. The first thing I remember is being almost overpowered by the scent of Kelly. There were two that were totally distinct; the first was this generic perfume that strippers tend to wear. It's cheap smelling and covers without overpowering. The second smell was that of light layer of warm sweat upon the flesh. It was alluring in the most animalistic sense. Kelly rubbed her chest into my face as I both reveled in the sensation and wondered when someone would be by to toss me out of the place and dole out the appropriate shit-beating which I was due for breaking the Golden Rule: don't touch the dancers. She pulled my face away by my hair and smiled at me. "I'm glad you made it to a private party" she said "I've wanted to do that to you for awhile now." She walked away in her confident manner with her knee-high boots and her hair swinging like a pendulum across her back. I sat dumbfounded as another dancer approached one of the patrons and performed the same service. Still another one stepped over the stage and sat in the patrons lap. I was aghast with the fear that this is going on and the possible legal repercussions of it and I was delighted that this was happening. My initiations into real lap dances happened about an hour later. Kelly had gotten off stage and was having a drink with me as we chatted while I attempted to appear like what was going on around we a normal everyday occurrence. One of the bouncers came by and informed Kelly that the club would be shutting down in half an hour and that now was the last call for lap dances. Kelly got a mischievous grin on her face. "Why don't you get yourself a lap dance?" she said. Normally I associate lap dances simply with the act of actually being able to sit down and talk one on one with a stripper. However since this afternoon was far from the standard fare and I had already been one on one with a stripper I decided it would be best to take Kelly up on the suggestion. She took my hand and led me to this little hovel off to the side of the club. The front of it was being guarded by one of the other bouncers. I was instructed to pay him thirty dollars. I forked my money over and was led by my hand and seated on a bench as the bouncer turned his back to us. Once I was seated Kelly immediately started taking her clothes off. Like a professional that did this for a living she was naked quickly and sitting next to me talking like nothing was strange. The song stopped and a new one started. Kelly gave me a quick grin and plopped her naked body into my lap. She swung a leg over my head and straddled me all the while keeping eye contact. She ran her hand through my hair and forcefully shoved my head into her breasts again. This time she kept me there for a longer period of time. The sensation of her breasts against my cheek and lips aroused me immediately. She ran her hands all over my head and down my arms. She separated her legs and I felt her crotch against my thighs. Immediately she started grinding against me as she took a hand and guided it to her breast. Within seconds both hands were gently performing their ritualistic patterns upon her body as she gyrated and ground against me. She got up quickly and spun around. She reached through her legs and separated mine as she let her full weight fall onto me. She took my hands again and urged them to roam across her thighs. I felt one of her hands reach between her own legs and gently rub herself as she reached farther back and rubbed my balls through my pants. We were about a minute into the song when she sunk back into my lap facing me. "Do me a favor?" she asked. I was in no position to be terribly vocal and managed to utter some phrase that notated denoted agreement. "I've been doing lap dances all day and I'm very very horny. Do you mind if I get off on you?" I think I might have replied something witty but in retrospect I probably barely managed to utter a quick "go ahead" before she went to town. She whispered in my ear what she wanted me to do. She had me gently bite one of her nipples as I ran a hand through her hair. Her moans in my ear became more pronounced as her movements became more violent and familiar. Her hand reached down in front of her pussy and I could feel her fingers against the inside of my leg as she worked her clit and pushed harder against me. I sat there with nothing to do but hold on to Kelly as she worked herself into a lather. Finally she shuddered near the end of the song and I felt her body stiffen and her hand movement slow almost to a halt. I could feel the sweat on her back underneath my fingers as she slowly started to come back around. She leaned all the way forward and thanked me for helping her out. I told her that I was happy to and that I'd be more than willing to do it again in the future. She made some reference to me being cute and dismounted. It wasn't until another private party several months later that I had another decent experience. In the mean time I wrote it off as mild fascination between the two of us. A couple of times Kelly and I had gone out for coffee and hung out as friends with a decent amount of sexual tension between us. Fortunately I was willing to let it be just that. For as hot as she was she had enough emotional baggage to sink a ship. But anyway several months passed and I was in attendance at another private party. This one however was quite a contrast to the other one I had attended. The person throwing it was an employee of the club and for the entire day the ladies had plenty of guys to drool over them. And they most certainly did enough to return their appreciation for the patron's efforts. The afternoon was again dwindling and I had bought a ticket for a lap dance. The half hour warning had been sounded and I knew that if I didn't use it I would have paid thirty bucks for a worthless piece of paper. So I stood in line with the rest of the guys waiting for dancers and took the first one available. I wasn't wild about the woman. She had always been fairly polite to me but she struck me as a bit arrogant. Her name was Kim and she had an amazingly well toned athletic body. You could tell she'd made good on her gym membership because she was so well defined but still managed to be curvaceous and feminine. The only problem was that her breasts were smallish and contrasted with the amazing visual feast that was the rest of her. Kim took me by the hand and sat me down in the little lap dance hovel. She hadn't bothered to put her clothes on from the previous dance. We had awkward conversation for a brief minute, probably something about the club, and then the song ended. It was her cue to get to work. I sat back and let Kim do her thing. I was all set to just sit there and let her gyrate and grind and for me to pretend like she was the hottest thing in the world. Truth be known I was looking forward to just going home and jerking off more than I was more than having to feign excitement over her. But I'd bought the ticket and it would be silly for me to not use it. Kim climbed into my lap facing me. She looked over her shoulder to make sure none of the bouncers were watching and she reached behind her thigh and adjusted my package so that the underside of my member would be flush against the front of my jeans. She leaned forward and whispered in my ear "Hold on tight." She slowly rocked her body against mine, her thigh concentrating heavily on my erect member. The nipples of her tiny breasts hit my face as she moaned and whispered things into my ear. I placed my hands on her thighs and guided her movements. After a bit of this she stopped and turned herself around, flashing me a sly grin as she did. She sat in my lap with her pussy right on top of my stiff cock. I ran my hands down her back and over her thighs. With one hand she guided me around and to her pussy to play with her clit. With the other she ran her hand through her hair and wrapped her palm around the back of my neck, pulling us closer together. I could feel myself becoming overly aroused. She leaned back harder into me and continued rocking in my lap. She moaned slightly and ran her lips across my cheek. After a minute of this she got up again and straddled my lap. She stood there for a moment looking at me heaped against the bench with a raging hard-on straining in my pants. She had the same grin on her face as she bounded forward stuffing a nipple in my mouth and pushing her pussy against my manhood. I could stand the tension no longer. If I was going to get thrown out of there then so be it. I was entirely too worked up to not take decisive action as to my needs and fate. I grabbed Kim's hips and started pushing and pulling her in the motion I needed. She immediately sensed what was going on and leaned forward to accommodate. Her stance closed as she came close to me and I could feel the effect. She ran her hands through my hair as I gave her one final and decisive pull into me as I went off. I remember feeling light-headed. She collapsed on top of me and said something to the effect of it feeling as good as it looking. I could only grunt in agreement and nod as I regained my composure. The song had ended moments previous and the bouncer was becoming irritated at my hesitation to leave. Kim told me to take care as I lumbered out of the hovel and out the door into my car. I drove home and changed my clothes. I was still so turned on I got off just thinking about the incident no less than an hour later. Another dancer befriended a month or so later me. Her name was Jessica and we held a common bond in appreciation for Goth music and bizarre dark comedy. Our friendship started when one night I came in to have a drink and found her dancing to "The Misfits" on stage. I knew at that point that whoever had the balls to play that sort of music to mostly hicks and be-boys would be a person I'd get along with. So I bought her a drink and we spent the rest of the night talking and smoking cigarettes. No more than a few weeks later I invited her to come out dancing to a Goth club we both had attended independently and sporadically in the past. My problem with going to this place was that I loved the music but felt like a tool sitting around by myself. Her past attendance record was the result of working and not always having a ride. So we ended up trekking into the city and had a grand old time. On the way back we stopped at an all night coffee house she knew and had a few cups. I sat in sweat-drenched vinyl with streaks of eyeliner down my cheek for hours with her smoking cigarettes and talking about music and life. She was a stunning woman, far from the typical model ideal. Her Ruebenesque qualities combined with very pale complexion, long jet-black hair and piercing eyes fascinated me. But it was her persona, her cynicism, her dark humor and her wit that drew me to her. Just as the sun was coming up she suggested that we should probably get going. She had to dance at a party later in the afternoon and was going to need at least a few hours of shuteye. On the ride home she asked me to be her assistant for the little outing and I gladly accepted. I did so, if for no reason, than to be able to get to know her even better. The event went as it was expected to go. It was a birthday party held at a garage and my primary function for her that afternoon was somewhere between personal assistant and bodyguard. I carried a nightstick in the back of my jacket and made sure she managed to leave with all of her clothes and money. Afterwards she treated me to dinner and asked to be brought home as she was exhausted still from the previous night. Our friendship went on like this for several weeks. One night while we were sitting around at work she asked if I was going to be attending the private party the coming weekend. I told her that I was unaware that there was one and asked her if she was working it. She informed me that she, as well a dancer named Jenn, had been asked specifically to work the event. Jenn was a newer dancer I had also made the acquaintance of casually while at work. The day of the private party I was doing something I almost never do in the place; drinking. This seems odd in hindsight because I was always conscious of how over-priced the drinks were, especially in difference to how shitty they paid me to work there. At any rate Jenn and I ended up at the bar while she was having a break. We ended up ordering the same thing and the conversation started. We talked for a bit about the job, the club and the usual things that you really would probably like to avoid more than anything when you're at an event at work and not working. As we were chatting Jessica came by and gave me a hug. I offered to buy her a drink and she declined the offer stating that she had lap dances to do. She said I should come by and get one from her with a wink and a nod. After she left Jenn looked at me and mentioned how hot Jessica was. Both girls were such a counter-point to each other; Jenn's trim but firm and natural body versus the curvaceous and Vamp Jessica. She mentioned how she'd love to get her alone for a bit. That's when I had the idea. I asked her if she would be interested in joining her for a lap dance with me. She got the most mischievous grin and replied that if I could work that out she'd do it for free. Twenty minutes later I managed to have Jessica's approval and the three of us were on our way to the hovel of infamy. I will admit that things were awkward for a few seconds. Both women knew they liked the other, but the rules of protocol with someone who was a patron of the club kind of made things weird. Thankfully it didn't take long for it to work out. I sat back as the two of them started in on each other, gently kissing, groping and pulling each closer together. I leaned back and took in the scene not needing to be included in the scenario to feel like I was getting something out of it. It wasn't terribly much later that the two of them broke their lock and turned their efforts upon me. There was a dialogue between them about me and what they wanted to do, but it was hard to remember it all as they decided that I needed to be topless in this mix. As Jessica's teeth locked onto one of my nipples I felt Jenn arrange herself to be able to pleasure Jessica while she guided my hand across her breasts. At one point Jessica had her back to me as she was sitting in my lap. Her legs were hiked up onto the wall and Jenn was leaning down with her head between her legs. Jessica leaned back and told me what was happening to her and how good it felt. She told me how she wanted to take her home and see how much of her tongue she could fit into her pussy. The interchange went on for the entire song. Points of attention changed and positions between the two ladies moved directly into my lap. I'd have been happy just to watch; I'm thankful that they thought to include me. At the end they both thanked me for the opportunity with a kiss. I stumbled off to the bar for a stiff drink. I stayed at the bar for the rest of the event. Nothing I could see or do would top that. I hung out until closing so I could sober up. Jessica and Jenn came out from the dressing rooms and joined me at the bar. They had a drink and chatted for a bit. When the bartender left his post Jessica grabbed my shoulder and turned my barstool so that I was facing her. Tales Of The Lap-Danced "Were going to go back to my place and order some Chinese. You want to come?" I liked the idea of going home with the two of them and I'm not sure exactly what stopped me from doing it. I didn't really need the job. I wasn't even sure that doing it would get me fired. But I just had a feeling that somehow it was a bad idea in the making. Somehow I managed to respectfully decline their offer. I'd been gone from the club for a good many years and had lost touch with all of them, dancers, bartenders and the bouncers. It was probably for the best. There was always something going on in that place that was slightly suspect. It probably was only a matter of time until it ended up finding me and I ended up in trouble. So it was several years later. A friend was getting married and it was his bachelor party I and another friend of mine were to plan. We checked the local places and managed to find a hot spot about an hour away. We rented a van, packed up a herd of revelers and well-wishers and headed off for the evening. The place was decently swanky. As many of us had managed to procure not only college degrees but also jobs that required them in the past few years it wasn't the kind of place that was out of our league anymore. But the concept of that sort of money was still a little foreign to us. It was also a Saturday night and it was as busy as any other place I had seen. The women were gorgeous and there were more than enough to go around. We set up camp at a table in the far corner from the entrance. Little did we know that this was the table that all dancers had to walk by in order to get to the private booths. The bachelor was having a good time. I'd pretty much ensured this by starting off the night by taking a collection from everyone and sending him on his way to the private dance area with a hot blonde and a fist full of cash. Everyone got the hint from there on in and made sure that there wasn't a moment that he wasn't occupied in some way or another. Additionally this gave me a decent chance to keep an eye out for someone so amazingly gorgeous that I would have to have a dance from them before the night was over. There are essentially two types of strip clubs in this world. The difference is dancers actively seeking out clients for lap dances, tips, shots or drinks. This was the only place that I'd seen both. Dancers had wandered by and struck up conversations with us and left without propositioning us even in the slightest. Other dancers weren't quite so subtle. I was saddled up to by one blonde that had come directly out of the private dance area and immediately to my side. She ran a hand under my shirt and tried to "convince" me that I needed a lap dance from her. It took a little more than a polite decline but she seemed to brush it off like she'd had worse rejections that night. It took us a decent hour to figure out the format of the place. Dancing on the stage wasn't really all that much for tipping but seeing the dancers better. The lap dance was the big thing. There were some topless dances that occurred in small hovels around the place that were generally out in the open. For what would be the price of a lap dance in most places the women would get topless and give an almost teasing preview of what would go on in the private dance area. Throughout the night you could tell who was being taken by these and who wasn't. The big dopey grin and bewilderment of an empty wallet was a sure sign. Sure they were getting what they'd paid for. But in a sense it was only a preview. We'd sent the bachelor in for the full treatment a few times and it wasn't long until the curiosity was getting to me. A very exotic looking brunette had caught my eye earlier in the night. She wasn't drop dead gorgeous but she had these wonderful tan lines and a killer smile. I'm always a sucker for a smile. Her breasts were pert but barely a handful. And she had this long brown hair that went halfway down her back that I was just dying to feel against my skin. I managed to get her attention her as she was finishing up a couch dance with another client. She put her clothes on and I approached her in the entryway. I asked her how much a private dance was. "One hundred....uh...thirty" she said with a bit of an accent. "And what do I get" "You get me for fifteen minutes in the private dance area alone and a bottle of champagne." All in all the cash was much more than I'd really expected. I hemmed and hawed for a second hoping that it would bring the price down ten bucks or so. I was foolish to think that a woman that gorgeous wouldn't find someone else's money to take. She looked at me slightly annoyed before I bagged my bluff. "Okay...let's do it." She grabbed my arm and hauled me across the club to a cash register. Once there she had me ante up the money and the cashier assigned us a booth. We made our way to the booth with her holding onto my arm. She pushed open one side of the saloon-style doors to the booth and motioned for me to enter. Once inside I immediately sat down in the oversized faux-leather chair against the back wall. I had to. There was barely room for one person to stand never mind two. She introduced herself as "Rio". I had the usual lack of tact to ask about her accent and she politely replied that she was from Brazil and was working to put herself through college. I filed both little factoids under "probably bullshit" as we made more idle chitchat until the "champagne" arrived. The waitress was nice enough to unscrew the top of it for me and soon departed. Rio got started pretty quickly. In an instant she had shed her day-glow half-shirt, thong panties and had also kicked off her shoes. She started in my lap with the usual fare. Since I was unfamiliar with the venue I played it slow. It wasn't long before I had a nipple in my mouth and my hand on her other breast. She ground her pussy against my leg and her thigh against my cock as she pushed closer to me. She put her fingers through my hair and whispered something to me in her native tongue. For all I knew it could of been her grocery list which she was orating to me. But with the accent and the fervor I was putty in her hands. Rio got up and turned around. She pushed my legs apart and planter herself into my lap, grinding her pussy into my crotch in aggressive little circles. She leaned back and took my hands in hers, guiding them to her breasts. I ran a hand across her thigh and up to her stomach. She reached back and touched my now hard member sequestered in the small of her back with her hand, and gave it a little rub. She ran her hand down my leg and stood up again. She straddled me and my hands instantly went to her hips. She backed away and pushed her torso against mine. She slowly slid down onto her haunches and laid her head on my thigh. With one hand she gently brushed my raging hard on and with the other she wormed her way up my shirt and gave one of my nipples a squeeze. Her tongue snaked out and I could feel it against my pants, arousing me even further. She stood up and leaned into me. Her pubic mound was pressing against my crotch and I leaned forward to give one of her nipples a quick lick. She took my hands and placed them on her hips instructing me to guide her. Slowly she slid down as my hands pushed and pulled in the motions that brought waves of pleasure over my body. I leaned my head back and let it all go. She rested her hands on my arms as I could feel my semen welling up inside me. I looked down in time to see her line of sight solely concentrated on my crotch. Her breasts rested just above my thigh as she pushed one last time and I came. She smiled and gave my slowly diminishing member a gentle rub. She climbed up into my lap and curled up. We talked for a minute and I told her what amazing tan lines she had. She giggled and told me how she loved the beach and how she missed the ones at home. A minute or so later she looked at her watch and announced that the fifteen minutes was up. While she was dressing I checked my own watch and realized it had only been eleven. But what was I going to protest about. I had gotten more than I had expected and she was at least polite about it. Someone else that night had a lap dance from Rio after me and commented on how good it was on the drive home. I couldn't help but wonder how many guys were returning home in need of clean shorts that night because of her. In retrospect I realized Rio had quite a racket going, as probably did the club itself. It was a generous chunk of change but while it did offer the "release" it explicitly made no mention of it. It was brilliant in its implementation and ability to offer a service just not available in most clubs but also do so coyly. The thing about slow declines into debauchery is that eventually you're likely to find yourself in a place you never thought you would ever be or engaged in an act you know you shouldn't be doing. If you become involved in the pursuit of one thing for long enough eventually you will find you have crossed over a line you had clearly defined in your mind as what is the divider between acceptable and unacceptable. And there's is no other city in the world that could of happened in but Montréal. I guess, if I have to look back on it, I was really ratcheting things up for the trip. It was a small group of people and I had clearly done my homework. When you start gearing up with information and knowing what different clubs in a city like Montreal will and will not offer then you can make the argument that you're very much looking to place yourself in harms way. And on one weekend in July we looked to do almost exactly that. Some time around eleven at our third club I wondered if the information I'd had was correct. The first two spots we'd hit were more along the lines of Gentlemen's Clubs, which are nice. But it was almost an unspoken thing at this point in time that we were looking to be not quite gentlemanly. We wound out the night at the clubs with minor disappointment. The recent crackdowns by the police couldn't of happened at a worse time. No-contact dances were being enforced and for some reason the venues were jam-packed. On the way home we lost one of the group to a massage parlor. It seemed seedy, but considering why were here and what we came for almost seemed halfway reasonable. The second night we plotted out a "can't miss" location on the far side of town. When we came through the door we realized that if seediness was likely to lead to less-than on the level lap dances then this was the place. We took our seats and enjoyed bad drinks with reasonably attractive dancers. The night wore on and with Montréal's average cost of dance being as cheap as it is coupled with the exchange rate I seemed to not be able to go through money fast enough. Every time I checked my bankroll it seemed fatter than the last time. As I kept drinking it became a haze of indiscernible flesh, bad conversations and shenanigans with buying dances for other members of the group. Some time around one AM it was decided. The night needed to come to an end or move someplace else. Feeling like I needed to complete my collection of lap dances from all the strippers working that night like they were baseball cards I approached one that I'd had my eye on. She was dressed in dominatrix-style garb and had been busy most of the night; so busy I'd barely seen her except when she was on stage. I approached her and asked for a lap dance. She smiled at me and winked. She was older than the others, maybe mid-thirties. Her skin was almost glowing it was so white. Decked out in straps of leather and PVC with a police-styled hat and heels so big she towered over me she took me by the hand and led me into a booth. The booths were small with a wooden chair facing out from the wall and a black semi-see through veil across the front of them. You could see in, but not really much more than shapes. She sat me down and introduced herself as she sat in my lap. I was feeling the effects of the alcohol, but not so much that I couldn't sense an air of self-confidence about her I'd never seen in a booth before. She leaned over and whispered in my ear. "I've been so horny tonight I can't wait to go home and have my boyfriend fuck me until I'm sore." Somehow I managed to retort with "If there's anything I can help you with now...." She replied, "No, let me take care of you." When the dance started she managed open and make available her ample breasts through her outfit. She simply managed to snap something away and there they were. Her dancing was more sensual and I tried not to let the pure animalistic frustration from having hour after hour of lap dance that had built up in me boil over. The first song ended and she asked me if I wanted another. If a lap dance is not up to my expectations I'm usually likely to cut my losses. But what was strange was that it wasn't that she wasn't good, but she was different. I nodded enough in my state to indicate that I wanted her to keep going. She reached down and rubbed my crotch with her gloved hand and lamented at how tough it is for anyone to sleep in that condition. She continued where she left off, movements slow and deliberate, more artistic than teasing but with enough of a payoff to keep me wanting more. She would put her hands on my face and slowly pull her breasts towards my lips and slide her body down them. It was minimal contact, but in the right places. She put her cheek against mine and moaned. She stood in front of me and squatted down, her face inches from my exposed kneecap from my shorts. I gently felt her hand reach up the leg of my shorts towards my fully erect member. She gave it a little rub and removed her hand. She turned around and presented her gorgeous ass at about my chest level. It was almost an awkward point to be in, her thong right in front of me with her doubled over so far that her palms had to be almost flat on the floor. I barely managed to notice that she wasn't really moving much either. With the situation being so awkward I gently caressed her ample curves, feeling how soft her skin was until I leaned forward and gently ran my cheek against hers. I gave a gentle kiss and felt her body reverberate like she was saying something. I half realized at this time I'd crossed the line. No stripper wants to be slobbered on and I expected her abrupt turn towards me as indication that I had violated the rules. She straddled my lap and sat for a quick second before leaning forward. "Do you mind if I unzip your pants?" I was stunned. Too stunned to do anything but nod. She reached down between us and slowly and carefully unzipped my shorts which were adorned with a small stain. She parted my boxers and gave the base of my cock a squeeze while she moaned in my ear about how big it was and how good it would feel inside of her. Slowly her two hands came together over my lap and I felt the soft plastic of a condom roll over my manhood. It was at this time that I was now, officially, well over a line I had set for myself. It was a split second later that I became conscious of her putting a condom over me. I sat still and dumbfounded as she leaned into me again. "This will help you sleep tonight." I felt her hand tighten and gently stroke me while I watched her other hand probe her pussy underneath her thong. She moaned and grunted into my ear while pleasuring the both of us. She spoke something in her native tongue and I felt my cock only grow harder. She leaned into me so that her collarbone was pushed up against my neck but turned so I could watch her. I couldn't even try to hold back and it wasn't long until the condom had been filled. It was an interesting sensation. There were three factors involved, my desire to keep going, apparently her desire to keep going and my penis which had been left in the dust. She became more aggressive with her motions onto herself. I felt her cheek against mine and her breath deep against my ear and neck. She swallowed deeply and I felt her shiver slightly. As she caught her breath she let go of my cock. The song ended and she leaned back into me. I was completely beside myself. "Do you want another dance?" she asked. "I uh....I think I'm done" I said with a bit of a grin. I wasn't sure how many songs had passed and I figured that $60 Canadian was reasonable enough. If anything it was probably double what she would have gotten without the extras and it seemed reasonable. I zipped up, thanked her, and stumbled out of the booth towards the men's room. I managed to find an empty stall and removed the condom and dropped it into the toilet. It had been a strange transition over a decade from not having any concept of what a lap dance involved to being on the receiving end of one as mind-blowing and interactive as they could get.