Mr. Joe Whuzzit

SURPRISE DRESS UP PARTNER

The following stories are true with the exception of relocating where most of it happened. This story took place in the late 1990's, nearly twenty years ago. Many people in these stories have also died long ago. Everything has changed, including us, so the stories can now be told.

Still I decided to alter where most of it happened for privacy. Now you'll know the butler did it, so to speak.

The main locations were small strip clubs owned by our new friend Mr. Joe Whuzzit. After Joe died those strip clubs in the country closed and slowly faded back to nature. The last time we saw them there was nothing left. The Country clubs, night clubs, campgrounds, condos and most other places were between Myrtle Beach, NC and Jacksonville, Fl.

Since we have camped in S.E. Georgia and have wandered around many other campgrounds and tourist places there this seemed like a nice compact location to set the scene for this story.

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JUST SURPRISED

This story gets long and will be in nearly a dozen chapters. It's how we met Joe Whuzzit, and how he became our first dress-up surprise partner.

I'm always adding notes. So here goes. As written before, I change names and locations for obvious reasons. This story may, or may not, have taken place where mentioned. And Joe, could be Joe, but definitely not Whuzzit. Our games have always involved trust and honesty. Without either, many games would not have happened as they did.

After retiring to Florida we decided we didn't need to license and insure our motor home plus a tow car since we now lived in the country near a large Game Preserve. We felt as if we were camping everyday. There are many springs, State, Federal, and County Parks nearby, as is the Gulf of Mexico. We were happy taking short drives to enjoy our new retirement land. For extended car and motorcycle shows, we stayed in motels anyway.

After a year or so, we had the yearning to go camping again. After all, that's when we played many of our games. We left the old motor home sitting in the yard and bought a small RV travel trailer to pull behind a full sized old Chevy van.

Somehow we were able to leave our young adopted son for a week and get away alone, something we hadn't done in awhile. We headed aimlessly toward a strange land called Georgia, north of our piece of sand in Florida. At the time, we belonged to a membership camping group so chose a campground not far off I 95 in this new land.

On the way to the campground, we spotted a few neat lookin old bars and a biker clubhouse. Something to checkout after setting up camp, we figured. So our adventure began, by accident, as it often happens. Perhaps here I should mention it was July. It was very hot!

We'd set up at camp. Dollie put on her slutty bar hoppin clothes later that evening and off we went to play. Her clothing of choice was a micro-mini, thong panties, and a low slung blouse. Pretty daring and sexy for a retired old gal. However she was showin her age by adding the thongie thingie for modesty.

We love old rustic bars and restaurants, so looked forward to mostly just looking them over. First one had a couple of bikes near the entrance. Only a few locals inside. We've learned from the past, not all of these places approve of strangers wandering in. But, we've never encountered a real problem. Been asked to leave a few. Left some on our own because of uncomfortable looks and vibes. But, for the most part, we've found people, especially bikers, friendly, and curious to check us out.

This was the case that entire weekend in all the places we visited, some places multiple times. I suppose Dollie's attire had something to do with this. I don't like to brag, but we seem to be likeable people. Seem to make friends and small talk immediately. Usually has to do with tits and asses, as it did this weekend.

We hadn't paid attention to the faded signs outside, but found out the first bar was also a tiny strip club, or tittie bar, as the locals called it. Dollie fit right in with the working girls. As back in Illinois at the bars, Dollie often got free drinks. Since she couldn't drink them all, I was always kind enough to help.

We are both cheap and easy to please. Bottle beer made in the USA suits us well. After the usual guys hittin on Dollie and flirting thing, an older man in a suit asked to sit with us. He looked out of place in that classy suit, wearing a Rolex, and his fancy gold jewelry. He became friendly and he often hinted that Dollie go on stage when the other gals took breaks. He told us she didn't have to strip totally. Just tease the guests.

We all know that crowds get unruly when Strippers don't strip. And I knew Dollie doesn't get on a stage, or in a crowd, and not at least bare her boobies! A few beers, and seeing the same skinny young girls doing their bump and grind, it was time to head elsewhere before Dollie accepted the invitation to show off. After all, we were going to be in this area for a week. Why not keep the natives in suspense awhile?

The next small bar was only a few miles away. This time we both noticed the Strip Club and dancing girls signs. Mostly because some of them were now blinking neon signs. Pretty much a repeat of the first joint. However a few of these Strippers were very well endowed. A little on the chubby side, but real women. Not some barely legal kids.

I spent more time mesmerized by swinging pasties and jiggling boobs than watching who was flirting with Dollie. I'm not even sure when Mr. well-dressed-slick-talker from the other Club showed up. Lucky I noticed about when he had Dollie convinced to get on stage and shake her booty.

I believe it was when she giggled and stood up that I saw the dude standin there with his arm around her, his hand resting on the exposed part of her tit. Again, a few beers, small talk, and we were outta there. Thinkin back, it was usually me encouraging Dollie to flash. Mustta gotten mellow in my retirement.

There was yet another small bar somewhere along our original route to the campground. But I didn't see it that evening. We ended up in the small town where the bike Clubhouse was. It was Friday night and there were a lot of motorcycles parked out front. Also from experience, strangers do not wander into biker clubhouses uninvited. Rumor has it, people have disappeared from earth this way!

I passed by and stopped at a small Mom-N-Pop diner. Happened to be several bikes outside and several biker couples inside the place. The men had jeans and only vests on. The few gals were dressed in tiny tops and hot pants. I believe one gal was wearing only a vest for a top. Wasn't covering much of her large jugs, from what I recollect. I seem to remember important things like that! My kind of biker babes!

I was lookin at all the eye candy, trying not to stare. Those were big boys! They were lookin back at Dollie, not caring that I knew it. Again, seemed like old friends in a short time. They told us the food was good here, but save your cash. They were only there to pick up the waitress who was one of their girlfriends. Follow us to their clubhouse for BBQ chicken and cold beer, on the house! Yep, we were invited!

With those big hairy dudes, how could we refuse? We were treated like a King and Queen, waited on hand and foot. We were treated super and invited back.

Then came the shocker. From the back room of the clubhouse came Mr. smooth talkin from the two Strip joints. Almost like he was following us! Again, he shook my hand, hugged Dollie and was very polite. One thing led to nuther, and we told him where we were staying for the weekend.

Sometime after I had a belly full of fried chicken and one too many beers, the mystery man in the fancy suit disappeared. It was late. We had a good time and met some great bikers. Time to find our way back to camp.

I'd sworn there was a small RV similar to ours in the next campsite. Now there was this humongous multi-dollar motor coach. Beyond a motor home, a mansion on wheels!

The way our heads were spinnin, we weren't even sure we were in the right campground, or the right RV. So we just sort of forgot about it, went to bed and made love.

You're getting ahead of me here!