Thursday, June 18, 2009
Hello, Mr. Bitey!
Wednesdays are usually kinda quiet at Adonis. If you're lucky, you'll manage to snag a couple customers who will let you grind their nutmeg for extended periods of time, earning you sizable wads of cash in exchange for a few minutes of simulated dry-humping. However, if you're REALLY lucky and you play your cards right, you might land a kink.
A kink is basically a customer with an unusual fetish who will pretty much hand you a bulging sack with a dollar sign on the side should you choose to roll with them. Thus far, I've had the following:
An Ecuadorian guy with a foot fetish who spent $45 to give me what was essentially a ten minute foot massage.
One garishly-dressed Koran who spent three minutes sniffing me head to toe like a basset hound while I stood still and prayed for his death.
An asshole who didn't quite understand the concept of a lap dance, and instead spent the entire time standing up while I tried desperately push him back into the bench.
One guy who did this weird thing where he kept karate chopping my ass crack like some sort of X-rated Bruce Lee.
A very nice guy who traded me a lap dance for one totally bitchin' pair of undies (although it does squish up your junk like mad).
A guy who heaped generous amounts of praise on me for having feminine qualities. My response? "I hope you die. In a fire". He had no idea what I was saying.
Another guy who asked me for a dance, then said he had a thing for guys with small dicks. Gee, thanks a heap there Rico Suave. Needless to say, I may have "accidentally" kneed him in the balls and spilled my Jack and Coke on him.
Which brings me to last night. Normally, there aren't a lot of guys who come into the place that I would willfully sleep with, until the next guy came in. He was kinda short, but he had that sexy South American look with the long hair and the tan skin. Oh, and he was built like a brick shit house, which is a total insta-boner for me. Seriously, a nice set of pecs, some biceps thrown in for good measure, and I'm a wriggling ball of repressed sexuality.
Anyways, he gave me the probably-bullshit excuse that he had never been into a strip club before, which I probably would have believed if he was 19 or something, but the guy was like 30. Anyways, he the guy was for shizz hot and I was about to pull a Denzel Washington and start collecting his bone (read: I was totally desiring to ride him reverse-cowgirl), so I offered him a free lap dance, which is basically my way of saying "I want you to fuck me like a dog".
Anyways, once in the back, I was all over the dude, grinding up against his wang like I was going for Gold in the Sexualympics. All of a sudden, I stand up to give him a better view, when all of a sudden, the guy starts gnawing on my glutes like they were made of steak. To be honest with you, I was a little confused, because (A) I wasn't sure whether or not letting a customer chew on your cheeks was kosher or not, and (B) I was kinda turned on by the whole thing.
To be honest, I have a huge love of all things fetish that sadly goes unfulfilled. In fact, I wanted to apply to Kink.com, but I decided that I was way too skinny for them to want me, so I figured I might as well save myself the rejection.
Anyhoodle, I later consulted the DJ (who is essentially the judge of what is kosher and what is verboten) and found out that not only was biting just peachy keen with the management, but that I could finagle extra money out of the situation. Needless to say, I kicked myself for offering him my cock-jockeying skills gratis when I could have just as easily squeezed even more money out of one very fine piece of man. Balls.