It really shouldn’t—I did nothing wrong. I merely documented the evening; in part for the later fun of reliving it with friends for years to come, and in part for reporting it here for all of you. But sometimes when you’re dating someone, they don’t necessarily see things with the same logical eye that you do. There’s a certain level of jealousy that can taint their viewpoint. And that’s not to say that I have never been infected with the disease of jealousy; but, to trigger the symptoms in me, it takes a little more than learning that someone I’m dating watched an amateur strip tease. Some years ago, a girl I was dating had a threesome with her male friend and one of his close female friends, and the only part that really pissed me off was that I never got the pictures from it that I was promised. But I digress.
Saturday we celebrated the birthing day of my friend Stan (or “Mr. L-R-G,” as he prefers to call himself on MySpace). We did it up at Calico Jack’s with a $10 all-u-can-drink happy hour from 8-10 pm, followed by further gratuitous boozing. My brain was soon awash in cheap bourbon and Coronas.
Around 10, LRG called my attention to a girl in a fluorescent blue dress walking past. “I guarantee you,” he said, “later on she’ll be on top of the bar getting naked; she does it every week.” I had witnessed this type of behavior the last time I visited C-Jack’s. Flesh displays take place every weekend, and have become something of local lore. Scanning through the pictures on the club’s website, you find plenty of examples. It makes you wonder sometimes if these girls realize that their pictures are getting put on the internet. Someone’s going to walk into a job interview and get a big surprise one day.
Around 1am, the party started. LRG’s prediction came true, as Blue Dress made her way onto the bar and began giving the people what they wanted. She started demurely (for drunken clubbing standards), showing glimpses of her black panties from underneath the blue cloth that stopped high on her thighs. Soon she was pulling the dress up to her chest, shaking her booty for the cheering spectators. Girls dancing alongside her took the cue, and began exposing their panties for the crowd’s approval, too. One girl wearing jeans was getting a spanking from those closest to the bar, and when she finally pulled down her pants, red skin glowed through black lace. A few feet down the bar, a girl lay on her back while others climbed on top of her and went to town. Is it still closeted lesbianism if it’s acted out in front of hundreds of strangers at a nightclub?
All the while, Toe, LRG, Zach, and I cheered and snapped photos with the rest of the slobbering throng (the pictures below are all authentic, and are among the 30+ that I took...and no, that's not my hand approaching for a spank). And we each spoke the same undeniable thought: “I hope I never have a daughter.”
2 comments:
That's a bad case of noassatall but looks like a late spring break fiesta.
I disagree about the noassatall. And I've carefully examined these pictures over and over and over, occasionally with lotion handy.
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