I was taking a long car through Appalachian foothills out to Ohio, and after ten hours on the road, I found myself really needing a beer before stopping at some cheap motel for the night. After driving for an hour along a deserted four-lane highway in the dark, I saw from out of nowhere an obviously happening bar with a dozen pickups parked out front. Then I saw the pink neon sign in the outline of a naked, well-endowed woman riding a horse, with the name underneath: Lady Godiva's. Clever, I thought, somewhat sarcastically. I figured it would be a typical country strip bar, meaning dancers who had shown a lot of wear and tear over the years, with scraggly over-tattooed skin and sagging breasts. But what the hell, I thought, the beer would be cold and I needed a break. Maybe there would be a few hot ones out in the boonies.
So I sat at the bar and ordered a beer, and got a stack of singles for the parade of dancers that would approach me for tips. After about 10 minutes, my suspicions that most of them were aging skanks was confirmed. Several had come up to me– and I obliged them their dollar each, lest I be tossed out before finishing my beer – but I balked at their offers of private dances. No way was I going to spend twenty bucks on one of them, I thought.
Then as my beer was running out, and I was contemplating whether to get another, out of nowhere I felt a touch on my shoulder. "Do you want a private dance?" All set to say no, I turned around, and was caught by surprise. This dancer was something to see. She was medium height and curvy, with bobbed black hair, and a really nice body with cute b-cup breasts, which were obviously real to boot. I could tell that by what she was wearing, black fishnet stockings, thong, and a bustier which pushed up her tits spectacularly . I was also pleasantly surprised to see that her heels were only a couple of inches, not the six-inch platforms most of the other dancers wore. Most importantly, though, she had a really pretty face, looking nothing like the worn out babes that were currently on stage. It took me a nanosecond to say, "Sure."
So the dancer took me by the hand, and upstairs to the "VIP Room", where the private dances took place. Mainly it's just a dark room with one long couch, and as we approached it, I could see in the shadows that there were two or three other guys getting lap dances in there. I was surprised when we continued past that room to a smaller one a little down the hall, but I didn't say anything.
When we reached the room, I sat down on the padded bench, gave her a $20 bill, and assumed the usual position: my body at a bit of a recline, legs spread open, arms at my sides, since at most places the rule was that the dancer did all the touching, not the customer. You saw that I was obviously a little tense and laughed, "Relax, honey. I know you're here for a good time, you can touch me if you want." Really cool, I thought.
As the song being piped in got going, she started slowly, doing a few dance steps in front of me, undulating her hips, rubbing her breasts and thighs. I was already getting really excited, and I could feel my cock start to bulge into my blue khaki shorts. She then started getting really close, still not touching, but rotating her pussy slowly in front of my face, at one point pulling her thong away to give me a little flash of her neatly trimmed bush. I liked that she kept some hair; I never understood why the fad started for women to shave themselves completely.
The dance got soon even better as she climbed up on me, facing me, and started to climb up on top of my lap, grinding her pussy into my dick. My hands went immediately to her hips, pulling her into me as if she was fucking me, as I desperately wished she was at the moment. As she kept grinding, she moved her lips around my head, never kissing me, but nuzzling against my neck, ears and cheeks, making little moaning sounds, driving me wild. Then she got back on her feet, and started rubbing her tits up and down against my chest, and then down to my cock, and I I could think of was how fantastic it would be to rub my cock between them. She turned around, and now sat on my lap with her facing me, again grinding her ass into my cock. As she arched her back, and leaned herself fully against my chest, my hands slid up and down her belly, tentatively approaching her tits. She must have read my mind, said, "It's OK," and my hands moved up to cup her breasts. I stroked them gently as she kept grinding me, first seeking out and touching the exposed flesh, and then pinching her nipples underneath the material. She continued softly moaning in my ear.
