Magic Wanda - Sex Stories

Magic Wanda

... stage was set out in the shape of a T and we were sat facing the bottom of the T, with a shiny silver pole no more than a few feet from our faces. “Oh baby,” exclaimed Dave. “This place is ace. Either of you been to one of these before?” “Nah,” I said. “What about you?” “No. Wish I had though. Not sure how you go on,” replied Dave. “My uncle went to one of these somewhere,” offered Ringo. “I think it was a few years back. He paid for a lap-dance and I think he said it cost him a tenner.” “What exactly happens?” asked Dave. “Well, she took him to a private room and basically sat on his lap and jiggled about and got undressed. You’re not allowed to touch though. He said it was a bit frustrating. In fact, he said one of his mates came in his pants!” “Bollox,” said Dave. “No, I swear. They call him Milky Pants now. He never lived it down.” “Don’t think there’s much chance of that happening with us,” I suggested. “Not after the amount of alcohol we’ve consumed tonight. Probably a bl**dy godsend.” “Yeah,” said Dave. “Where’s that waitress gone anyway.” “There she is,” said Ringo looking round. “Looks like we’re up next.” Two minutes later and she was with us. As we’d sat down, the two girls on stage had tottered back off and we were looking in anticipation at the twitchy curtains on the other side of the stage. “Sorry about the wait boys. Three gin and tonics, there you are.” “How much love?” asked Dave. “Twelve pounds please darling,” she said smiling while bending over so that ...

... we got a nice view of her cleavage. Dave took out three five pound notes and coolly slipped them down her front. The cheeky bastard even gave them a little tap, right on the middle of her breasts. “Keep the change,” he grinned. “Thanks baby,” she said winking at him. “Anything else for you boys?” “Well,” said Dave beckoning her in. “We’ve never been anywhere like this before. How do you, you know, go on about things. How much does it cost?” “I can organise the private lap-dances for you or if you want to show a lady your appreciation on stage, she’ll have a little pot that you can put pound coins in. If you’re feeling particularly enamoured by a performance, a five pound note may get you something a little more.” She finished the sentence with a wink. “So how do we select the girl for a lap-dance?” I asked intrigued. “Do you have like a profile book with them all in or something?” “No honey. They’ll all get their turn on stage and you pick the one you like. You’ll also see ladies wandering round the club asking if you’d like a dance. They can do a strip at the table for you which is ten pounds, and lasts the length of a song, or for twenty pounds you get taken to somewhere a little more private for a lap dance. Have you seen anyone you like so far?” “Not really,” I replied. “I suppose we’ve missed quite a few of the girls already haven’t we?” She laughed. “I guess so honey. Did you have something specific in mind?” “Er, not really. What do you mean?” I stammered, a little ...