With the kids away at their grandparent's home, my 40-year-old wife, Kate, and I decided to spend a winter weekend at our cabin in the North woods. When we started off from the city after work on Friday, it was already snowing hard.
The driving was slow-going, and by the time we exited the main freeway to get on to a two-lane highway, we could barely see, and it was already after 9 PM. The wipers were going full speed, but it was a full-on blizzard. Our All Wheel Drive Mercedes SUV was well-equipped for the deepening snow, but visibility was awful and becoming downright dangerous. The sun sets early in the north during early January, so it was pitch black and the headlights were barely illuminating the deep, white, snowy road in front of us. To concentrate, I turned off the Podcast we were listening to, and all we could hear were the wipers.
We had driven on the two-lane county highway for about 45 minutes when I confessed,
"OK, this is a white-out. I can't see anything and there must be 10 inches on the ground already."
"We should stop. We're going to end up in a ditch or get hit by another car," she said.
"I agree, but there's no place to pull over and it's too dangerous to be stopped on the side of the road. Let's keep going until we see a store, motel, gas station, or whatever."
We were in a rural area and even though we'd been on this road hundreds of times, it was impossible to tell exactly where we were. I knew we couldn't be too far from a tiny little town we usually passed through at 70 mph. If I recalled there was a gas station, a liquor store, some small homes, and maybe a restaurant.
We saw the light of a gas station on the left side of the road. With snow swirling around the dulled light of the lamppost we could tell that it was closed - no lights were on in the little store beyond the single gas pump, and we started to get nervous.
Creeping forward along the county road, we could see another light ahead on the right. As we got close to the red, illuminated road sign, we could see that it said, "Misty's".
"There's a place, and it looks open! Thank goodness!" my wife exclaimed.
It was a small, wooden structure. Either a bar or a restaurant. I'd seen it many times before... and then it triggered.
"Oh yeah. I forgot. I think this is a strip joint," I said as I maneuvered the car off the small highway and into a parking lot covered in deep snow.
"What?! Are you serious?" she asked, as I eased our SUV between a row of maybe four or five pickup trucks.
The wind was howling and as soon as we stopped, the windshield was quickly covered with snow as the wipers tried helplessly to keep up with the blizzard conditions. The digital readout on the center console read 5 degrees Fahrenheit.
"Yup. Look at the small sign in the window - 'Exotic Dancers' - I remember wanting to stop before. How many singles do you have?" I joked.
"Good lord. How can this be our only option?" She asked laughing.
My wife, Kate, is an extraordinarily cute, petite brunette with a tight little body. She loves sex, we talk about experimenting, and she's is not afraid of showing off her figure in small bathing suits or tight dresses. But that said, she's also not the type to go to strip joints, especially ones in tiny, rural towns.
"Well, it's approaching zero degrees, we can't see a thing, have a quarter tank of gas, and are 30 to 50 miles away from the next gas station, which may not be open. Care for a Coor's and some cooch?" I asked jokingly.
The alliteration was noted with an eye roll, and she said, "No choice, let's roll."
Upon opening the car doors, we were met with howling winds and snow. Grabbing her arm as we crossed the parking lot, we leaned into the blizzard and trudged through the almost knee-deep snow. I patted her tight little ass in her black LuLu Lemon yoga pants that showed beneath her high-fashion white parka with a fur collar. Her tight little legs fed into fashionable and functional Sorel boots.
When we got to the entryway, I pulled open a screen door and turned the knob of the main wood door. An arctic blast of wind and snow announced the arrival of us two out-of-towners and the entire bar turned to look at us.
There were about seven or eight guys seated around some small tables covered with pitchers of beer and a couple dudes standing at the bar to the right. It was a pretty small room that had a shallow stage about 15 inches high with a short pole and was in front of the tables. A naked blonde was bending over, pulling her cheeks apart and showing her ass to the audience. She too bent her head around her left leg to see who had entered.
I quickly shut the door to keep out the cold wind from howling across both the patrons and the gorgeous bare ass and asshole on full display on the stage.
"Sorry. Just ahhh...passing through!" My five-foot wife looked up at me with a 'AYFKM?' kind of look on her face. I grinned internally, semi-laughing at our situation and led us to the bar.
The middle-aged bartender asked for a cover charge and I happily shelled out $20 and asked Kate what she wanted. Two trucker hat-cladded dudes at the bar took their eyes off the naked blonde on stage and looked my wife up and down as she asked for a "Prosecco", which was met with a quizzical look.
"We'll just take a vodka tonic and a Jack and coke," I said.
The bartender introduced himself as Jim and said he was the owner. He told us we were lucky to get as far north as we had and informed us that the state Department of Transportation and the State Patrol were closing the main state highway. "No one else will make it into this town for at least a day - the plows can't keep up and the county roads are impassable," he said. Kate and I looked at each other and the Jim, the bartender, understood what we were both thinking.
"Yeah, so where are you guys heading?" he asked.
I told him we were going to our cabin another 70 miles from where we were. His raised eyebrows pretty much said it all, but he countered with, "Well, there's a motel not too far from here that maybe you can walk to, and we have a couple trailers out back next my place where the girls stay if worse comes to worse."
I understood that by "girls" he meant the strippers. They must come up from the city to perform and then spend the night in the mobile home/trailer units I could sort of see in the field beyond the parking lot where we had pulled in.
"Well, drink up, you two, you ain't going no place tonight," said Jim.
So we did.
We had no options, no place to go, and a full bar.
We took a seat at the back table and Kate pulled off her parka and revealed her tight, grey sweater showing off her little boobs and most of the guys checked her out. The blonde was still dancing on the stage and I watched Kate's eyes as she checked her out. Possibly out of pure curiosity for the female form, but perhaps also out of admiration for the young woman's courage. Either way, it was hot to see my wife admiring a young naked female.
As the song finished, Jim spoke loudly from the behind the bar while washing a glass, "Let's hear it for Dynasty!" and the young blonde waived both hands above her head at the small audience, with her full breasts and bare vagina on display.
Dynasty stepped down off the small stage and opened and opened a door to the left and behind the stage. When it opened, we could see a skinny, naked young brunette with a large shoulder tattoo in what must be the dressing room.
Two drinks appeared at our table. I looked up and Jim winked, "From some local admirers. Welcome to town."