The Road Journey - Sex Stories

The Road Journey

... moment. I went to the bar and asked her to text me when she was ready -- that way she could have her space. When I received the text, I headed upstairs with great anticipation, like unwrapping a very sexy gift. When I entered, Amanda was sitting on the couch, legs crossed and a seductive smile that made me melt and get hard at the same time. She was wearing a black cocktail dress and high heels that I had gotten just for this occasion. She wore her hair smooth, and her diamond earrings sparkled in the soft light. My lord, she looked incredible. I extended my hand to her and pulled her toward me. “Honey,” I whispered in her ear, “you look absolutely incredible.” Playfully, I added, “You’re going to make two men very happy tonight.” I encouraged her to enjoy the date because she deserved the attention of a handsome man. I gave her one last hug and a kiss and went on my way. As part of the date, I would go to a local strip club and have my own fun. I found a place called The Brass Rail, which had received pretty good reviews. The plan was for me to go to the strip club, and Amanda would meet Slate in the hotel bar. I grabbed a taxi and headed over to the club. Inside, it was a typical strip club: pumping techno music, platforms with poles, disco balls and weird odors. I found a seat in the lounge area from the stage as I was more interested in hanging back than leaning over the bar stuffing dirty dollars into dirtier g-strings. I ordered a scotch and soda from the stoned ...

... waitress, and looked around surveying the surroundings. I as on skank alert as I was sure they would come popping out of the back any minute. Sure enough, a young woman slithered over to me and introduced herself as Elsie. I misheard her and repeated “Elsa?” I thought it was weird a stripper was so inspired by a Disney character. “No!” she over-annunciated over the din of cheap knockoff Skrillex beats, “Elsie!” The shouting killed the mood, plus she had one of those face tattoos down to her neck, which I first thought was a birth defect. I politely shooed her away and settled back to my drink. Eventually, an older woman approached me from a distance like a beeline. Rather than shaking her goods, she simply sat down next to me and introduced herself -- Simone. Ok, so it was a bullshit stripper name, but she seemed nice and wasn’t fresh out of college so I didn’t feel like the office creeper. Unlike the other girls, she was wearing a little more. It was a black one piece kind of thing that at once looked like a short mini-dress and a bathing suit as two straps tied around her neck to keep everything together. She was a brunette with an an open, inviting face. She was also a little on the plus side, and that was just fine by me. I got the sense she was very attractive at one time, but years of tough living eroded her beauty. “Are you waiting for friends, or are you on your own tonight?” Simone asked. I thought it was interesting how she phrased the question -- on your own . “Well,” I ...