Except for the small hand lettered sign on the door proclaiming "Nude Dancers," the Pumper Room looked more like a typical neighborhood workingman's bar than a strip joint. A few strokes of graffiti decorated the glass brick window, and a few more added a crude L to the name, making it PLUMPER ROOM--someone's idea of a joke.
Ordinarily I pass up strip joints, especially seedy ones like this, but something about it intrigued me. I was in town for a couple of days on a sales trip so I decided to check it out after my last business appointment down the street.
All through the appointment, I found myself thinking more and more about the Pumper Room. As soon as I finished, I hot-footed it over, leaving my car in the company parking lot.
I opened the door to a typically dark bar smelling of too many cigarettes and too little fresh air. The middle aged Asian woman behind the bar took my money, handed me a ticket stub and plunked down a watery nondescript soft drink. I took a quick look around. At 4 in the afternoon most strip clubs are pretty quiet, but there wasn't even a single customer besides me.
I grabbed the drink from the bar, wandered over to the stage and sat down in front of a very plump woman swaying to the music and holding her massive tits in her hands. To be honest, I had never seen such a large woman working as a stripper. I looked around the room at the four or five other dancers sitting together to talk or vacantly watching the woman on-stage. They were all fatties--all of them! Sure, I've been to strip joints before to admire the female form, but that form had always been, well...slimmer.
I was about to gulp down my drink and leave when one of the women, very pretty and very young, made eye contact. She was as large as the others, but her smile riveted me to my seat as she walked over to me. Without talking, she stood behind me and began to massage my shoulders which were tense from the business day. I could feel her large fleshy breasts pushing against the back of my head. With each squeeze to my shoulders she would push those huge pillows into me, covering my ears at times. Both of us silently watched the dancer who smiled vacantly back at us.
My voluptuous masseuse leaned down and whispered, "Let's go over in the corner." Before I could object, she grabbed my hand, and led me to a long vinyl L-shaped bench in probably the darkest corner of this already dimly lit club. We sat down side by side and she introduced herself as Angie. I never really had much to do with fat women before, but she aroused my curiosity. Actually, she aroused more than curiosity. Angie gently laid her hand on my thigh with the edge of her palm grazing the tip of my hopelessly hard dick. She began to kneed my thigh as she had done my shoulders, the edge of her palm rubbing back and forth against the head.
Angie asked me if I would like a couch dance. I thought, well, here comes the commercial, but by this time I would have gone along with almost anything. The thought of all that bare flesh squirming and pulsating against me was making me crazy. My mouth like cotton, I squeaked out a "yes." Angie smiled at me and said I should first go in the men's room and put on a condom.
"You know, so you don't cum in your pants and make a mess," she explained. I didn't really think it was possible in the space of a song and fully clothed, but I was thankful for her understanding and dutifully excused myself to put one on.
I returned to her in less than a minute and she climbed on my lap facing me with the grace and ease of a much smaller woman. She kneeled on the seat cushions to hold her weight, and pushed those huge melons in my face until I almost gasped for air. Angie leaned back, grabbed one of her tits firmly and shoved the nipple in my mouth encouraging me to suck on it or smother. Her nipple swelled to the size and firmness of a grape.
I reached around and held Angie's ample buns in my hands, squeezing them and pulling her crotch hard against my throbbing cock. She rocked back and forth gently to the music. I could feel her hot pussy through our clothing. Her costume bottom was as thin as panties. She worked her swollen snatch over my imprisoned cock with a frenzy that told me she was getting more out of this than the customary $20. Before long, her pussy juices soaked the front of my pants. She grabbed my neck from behind, pulled my head between her giant tits and began to shudder. She bore down hard on my cock and held it there for a while, then she relaxed and nuzzled her face against my neck, obviously very content.
This was clearly more than I had bargained for, but I offered her the $20. "No way," she said. "I should be paying you for that one. In fact, I think I will." She expertly pulled down my zipper and freed my swollen cock. I was a little concerned that someone would see, but a quick look around convinced me that nobody was really paying any attention to us. In one motion, she turned around on my lap with her back to me, pulled her sodden panties to the side and slid my latex-encased dick into her dripping cunt. Though she was very tight, my cock buried itself deep in her slippery hole. I began to appreciate one of the joys of fucking a large woman; her size easily masked what we were doing from view.
Angie squirmed back and forth, and side to side sliding my dick in and out of her glorious hole. Though I tried to thrust my hips upward, her weight prevented it. After a short time I didn't even try. I just laid back and let her work her tight full pussy lips around my cock.
Though some men might think that fat women are out of shape, the way Angie's strong tight pussy milked my cock, she gets plenty of exercise where it counts. Sometimes she would stop moving her hips and just suck on my imprisoned shaft with her talented love muscles. Just when I thought I could stand no more, Angie would relax her grip so that I wouldn't cum. I needed all the help I could get at that point.
We continued fucking for what seemed like forever, but in reality was five or six songs. Not that I had the presence of mind to count them. I knew from watching each of the other Rubenesque dancers come up to the stage and dance two songs while I imagined what it would be like to fuck each and every one of them. All the while, Angie wiggled and milked my throbbing cock in a way that nobody before her had ever been able to do. She began to bear down on my cock harder and more insistently, grinding that huge ass into my thighs. Without warning, I felt her throbbing, vibrating orgasm clench my dick with an intensity that instantly made me cum. The warmth and the wetness pouring back on me were evidence that no reservoir tip could have contained that load. It gushed past the rolled end of the condom and soaked my balls as if I hadn't even worn one.
Turning back around to face me, Angie smothered me once more in her creamy tits while carefully putting my wet cock into my pants and zipping up the fly. She kissed me and climbed off. I retreated to the men's room to survey the damage.
Pussy juice and cum soaked my pants. I had no hope of cleaning it up, but I didn't care after having the most fantastic fuck of my life. I came out of the men's room, thankful for the dim lighting. Angie came up to me and kissed me. "Don't be a stranger," she said and went on stage to dance her set. I left to go back to my motel room and change clothes.
After a quick shower, I changed clothes and flopped down on the bed to watch the news on TV. Same old shit. My mind kept wandering back to Angie. I turned off the TV, put on my shoes and said to myself, fuck it, I'm going back. The Pumper Room was only about a mile down the road, but enough time to daydream about my "dance" with Angie.
I opened the door to a now pleasantly familiar bar. "You have ticket?" the Asian woman asked, recognizing me. I pulled the stub out to show her but she waved it away and set another watery drink on the bar for me. I threw down a fiver and walked over to the stage. This time I felt more comfortable, almost at home.
I looked around for Angie but didn't see her. It didn't take long for one of the other girls to come over. She introduced herself as Cheryl. We shook hands gently. "Rick, my name is Rick," I said over the loud music.
"Have you been here before?" she asked.
"Yea, I was here earlier today. Is Angie is still here?"
"Angie works day shift. You just missed her. She left about 20 minutes ago," she explained.
