My name is Rick. I am a 35-year-old white lawyer who lives in Georgia, just north of Atlanta.
When I was an 18-year-old student at the University of Georgia in Athens, I not only loved SEC football, and thought our bulldog mascot was cool, I enjoyed going to see strippers. This has now snow-balled into a terrible porn and stripper addiction that has taken over my life.
It all started when I was in college. My Dad, Ralph worked construction in North Georgia near Lake Lanier. My Mom, Ruth, worked the early morning shift at Waffle House.
In fact, Ralph and his crew built a lot of homes for the well-to-do folks from Atlanta who have vacation homes up here.
Ralph loved Playboy magazine and kept a great stash in the back room of our garage. I bet my Mother knew about it, but Mom kept mum.
When I was 19, they told me to clean out the garage during my summer break from college. I already knew about the stash. I took some Barbie Benton issues to my room.
Then, Dad went out early to a construction job site. As soon as Mom left for her job, I was my room looking at those old Playboys.
Later that summer,
I worked with Dad's crew along the lake. I needed the money for school, and Dad needed the help.
What experiences those were. I learned what it is like to work hard. I also saw that some of Dad's crew played hard, too. They loved two things above all else. Plenty of beer and all the nude dancers they could watch.
On their days off they loved a strip joint along Interstate 85 in Toccoa. The food was terrible there, but the strippers were hot as Georgia asphalt.
Some nights I would come out of the strip joint in Toccoa and see guys in their pick up trucks getting blow jobs in the parking lot.
When I was in law school, I met a nice stripper there named Debbie. She grew up in Helen, Georgia, where there is a popular nudist resort.
You see, Debbie used to tend bar there nude when she was about 20.
Debbie was not shy. She was used to laying out and swimming with all the nudists at the resort near Helen, which is cool town itself. It is an Alpine Village.
The first time I saw Debbie dance at Toccoa, I was mesmerized. I got hard quickly.
I went home that night and pulled the nude pictures of Diane Parkinson out of Dad's stash. I usually pretended I was with Debbie. I came in about 5-minutes, looking at Diane and thinking of Debbie.
I could not get enough of Debbie and the other nude dancers, real or in my sexual fantasies.
I was going to see the girls 5-night a week.
Well, I was seeing the strippers so much my addiction was making me cash poor.
Once you pay to get into the strip joint, buy the Foxy Lady a few drinks, then some drinks for her 18 to 20 year old strippers, you are talking real money. About 100 dollars-a-night, 500-a week, easy.
I was a lawyer by then making about 70k. But my addiction to skin and porn was crazy.
My attraction to Debbie and the other nude dancers was getting worse. Plus, I loved going to an Adult store, where they sold everything from porn and lingerie to hundreds of dildos.
Great place to meet women, unlucky hooking up that night. They would call it a night, stop by for a new dildo, some porn and later enjoy themselves alone at home.
Or they could meet some horny guy there, looking for sex from the gals who thought the dildo prices were too high. Maybe they just wanted a man, any decent-looking man, for sex.
I loved the check-out girl at the Adult store. She was about 22, had green-tinted hair and wore glasses.
But this girl, named Kelly, was hot and funny, too.
Kelly always dressed real slutty. She wore a black halter top, cut off jeans so short you could see the bottom of her ass cheeks. So fucking hot, and so erotic. She also wore flip flops, which I loved. My foot fetish is so strong.
I had to jack-off in my truck out in the parking lot once after flirting with Miss Kelly.
After cleaning off my cum from my truck seat, I was fixing to leave the Adult store.
At that very moment, Debbie, my stripper friend, pulls up.
Said she was looking for something to keep her boyfriend hard all weekend.
