From: spamhole@noslack.com (StraDawg) Newsgroups: alt.sex.strip-clubs Subject: [ASSC] AFTSD - The Last Time I Saw Julia Date: 2 Dec 2003 19:33:37 -0800 Organization: http://groups.google.com Lines: 170 Message-ID: <d2e98f4b.0312021933.bee76b9@posting.google.com> NNTP-Posting-Host: 64.81.232.215 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit X-Trace: posting.google.com 1070422418 22570 127.0.0.1 (3 Dec 2003 03:33:38 GMT) X-Complaints-To: groups-abuse@google.com NNTP-Posting-Date: Wed, 3 Dec 2003 03:33:38 +0000 (UTC) I first met Julia on the very day of my twenty-first birthday. My friends took me out to a topless bar for half of an evening filled with drinks and table dances, yes, actual right-at-the-table, hell, right-on-the-table dances. It opened the door to a different world. That was half of an evening, because we continued on to the a nude club, an unremarkable building, conspicuous by its diminutive size on a generous lot. Here, the dancers were gorgeous, especially Julia. She was a short girl with piles of curly reddish-brown hair that fell to the middle of her upper-back. Her soft, small hands got lost in mine as she towed my to the private dance booth. She pursed her full, round lips into little air kisses when she talked. "Your friend bought you some private dances," she explained in a whisper that cut through the house music. Julia eased me down in a private stall, sat me on an unpadded wooden bench and faced me toward her. A wooden arm swung down across my lap separating me from her, and it was like being strapped into a wooden roller-coaster combined to some extent with being locked up with a pillory. Julia leaned brazenly across the wooden border. She put her face close to mine, and I began a long walk down the corridors of her big doe eyes. Did she say she was Persian? I opened my mouth to ask her again, but I was mute; and she was saying something else, but her words never reached my ear, just melted into the air like smoke. She freed her breasts. They hardly budged. Huge and firm and probably very expensive. If she had stepped back, she would have revealed the doodle on every 8th-grader's homeroom book cover, the one with gravity-defying, perfectly round, God-must-have-just-popped-these-on-as-an-afterthought boobs. Well, except she was drawn by a much better artist. For the length of two full songs, though, it was my eyes that painted her, pressed firmly or delicately as the form dictated along every stroke as she moved. Her feet left the floor. She would relinquish her life in the free world to join me in my little wooden cell. Everything that was good fell on me at once, her body, hands, hot breath. And then the gate lifted. I was allowed to return to the free world. Julia pecked me on the cheek and made me promise to return. I said I would. It would be another 6 years before I returned to a strip club. ========== A New Club ---------- When I next encountered Julia, I was again with friends, and, again, I my friends afforded me private dances with her. It was my first visit to a different nude club, where my friends had been going frequently, at least once every time they were home from the road. Julia was older. She had easily aged twice the six-year gap between my club visits, but she still looked fantastic. She was taller now, about 5'7" with raven hair, not nearly as curly, but still piled generously to the middle of her back. Her breasts were still large, but all natural. Her lips were still full, but she no longer pursed them when she talked, rather they slid across each other gracefully, and I noticed her lipstick shade was lighter than before. She said she was half Filipina, which I heard this time; that must have been what gave her those big, almond eyes. This time there was no stockade in which to sit. Instead, a row of booths were populated by plush chairs that stuffed the booth from wall to wall. Julia chose the booth closest to the exit door, which she said was away from "the prying eyes of the camera." Her hand brushed eagerly against my pants even as she drew the thin curtain that veiled the booth. If there had been a wood barrier this time, it would have broken between our bodies. Her hands were greedier than before, running freely through my hair, across my neck and face, shoulders, chest, arms, avoiding the quicksand of my own hands, then completing the circuit back to my head. Something in me longed to walk the corridors of her eyes again, but I was rebuffed at the front door. Julia turned her back to me and pressed her nearly-uncovered pussy against my pants, waking my cock. She placed my hands on her waist and began to bounce on my lap in a very familiar way. The last time I felt this I was naked. Had it really been so long? She glanced back at me with those big, brown, almond eyes, a soft, warm light emanating from a closed window. In the chilly outdoors, I could almost feel the warmth for a moment. The song ended. The curtain parted. I introduced my cousin to Julia. She had inspired something in me, and I wouldn't see her again for another six months. ========= Las Vegas --------- I can't even remember how I ended up at this Las Vegas club. I had a few drinks in me, an I was talking for quite some time to Julia. She was a 21-year-old single student with a baby girl. Her hair was as brown as it gets, straight, and still down to her mid-back. She was skinny as a rail with small, natural breasts and hips that had somehow become more perfect by pushing a child out. Her eyes were tall, narrow and dark. She had thin lips. She sat in my lap as we talked, and I caught myself playing with the thin chain that she wore at her waist. I watched her on stage more than once. If she had a tattoo anywhere, I don't remember it. She easily coaxed me into the VIP room, and it seemed like a bargain in the moment. In our private chamber it was as if we picked up right where we left off, only this time her eyes were open to me, and her hands were not afraid to fall into mine. She pinned me down and kissed me. I met her at first with trepidation, then freely. I apologized to her. I know I was supposed to keep my hands to myself, but I really had to grab her ass. I asked her if it was okay. It was okay. We meshed together easily, and as my hand kneaded her buttocks, she turned herself and took one finger inside her. She was wetter than anyone I'd ever known before. We carried on way past our allotted time. Turns out it was okay, because the club was so slow at that hour. She squeezed my hand tightly as I left. She gave me a kiss to remember her by. I used to go to Las Vegas a lot. I sent Julia a few things for her baby. Within a few weeks, her e-mail and phone were no longer working. I never saw her at that club again. I said a prayer for the well-being of her daughter and her and expected never to see her again. It would be three months before I returned to a strip club. ========================= The Last Time I Saw Julia ------------------------- I had been clubbing on an almost regular basis for about 6 years. I saw Julia again several times here and there. She was continually quitting the industry, only to pop up somewhere else in short time. She had been absent for 6 months easily when one of my nights took an unexpected detour to the club where I first met Julia. It was a giant now, full of dazzling neon and ostentatious decor that somehow stated this was the place for wild but tasteful excess. I didn't expect to see her there. I didn't even recognize it was her. She led me to the lap booth. Her hair fell shoulder length. Her delicate features tapered to a point at her chin. Her wide eyes were open and did have a light behind them. Her soft hand did get lost in mine as she pulled me through the club. I followed the trails of her hips as she walked, her smooth legs. We arrived at the VIP room. Julia eased me down in a private stall, sat me on an unpadded wooden bench and faced me toward her. A wooden arm swung down across my lap separating me from her, and it was like being strapped into a wooden roller-coaster combined to some extent with being locked up with a pillory. Julia leaned brazenly across the wooden border. She put her face close to mine, and I began a long walk down the corridors of her big doe eyes. These dances were nearing an end. I wanted to say goodbye, but I was mute; and she was saying something else, but her words never reached my ear, just melted into the air like smoke. It would be one week before I returned to a strip club. But I never saw Julia again.