Eddie met Svetlana

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That Eddie met Svetlana at all was implausible at best. Oh, don’t get me wrong. Lot’s of guys meet strippers. It happens every night. Eddie met ‘Star’ as, he was sure, had hundreds of other guys. That was her stripper personality. It was when she revealed her true name, her true self, that Eddie met Svetlana.

She was 22, with long, flowing, brown hair, hypnotic eyes, a cute little button nose, and luscious lips. She was 5′ 2″ with 34 B cup tits, a 24 inch waist, athletic legs, and the tightest ass you could imagine.

Her pole dancing was inviting. It was as if she was there to show-case herself just for him, teasing him with her lingerie, seducing him with her smile, unleashing his desires as she toyed with her pussy just inches from his face.

Ozzy’s ‘Crazy Train’ boomed in the background.

She reached over from the stage and put her arms around him, raking her finger nails across the nape of his neck. Drawing him in, she kissed his neck wetly then whispered in his ear, “If I wanted to sit on your face, would you let me?”

His cock sprang to life. “Absolutely.” As she finished her set she collected the singles strewn across the stage. In front of Eddie though she was rewarded with a $20 tip. Upon picking up the bill she leaned over and kissed him full on the lips.

“Thanks lover,” she said as she walked from the stage.

The tone of the club changed completely with the transition to the new dancer’s music selection of ‘gangsta rap.’

The next dancer asked her, “Did that guy just give you a twenty?”

“Fuckin’ right,” was Star’s reply. “Don’t get too greedy sweetie. That man is mine,” she said as she looked back over her shoulder and blew Eddie a kiss.

The next dancer hit the stage and immediately angled toward Eddie. Eddie was polite and laid out the required three-dollar minimum tip on the rail.

Back stage, Star stood in front of a fan to cool off, while she brushed out her long, red, flowing, mane and freshened her makeup. She admired petite form in the mirror. While both ears had several piercings filled with diamonds of various sizes, her left ear was adorned by a chain that draped from the apex to her lobe. Both nipples supported small barbell piercings. Her navel was pierced with a two-inch silver chain with a solitary diamond at the end and her clit sported a ring piercing that, when toyed with, produced the most powerful orgasms she had ever experienced. Her eyebrows were waxed to perfection, as was her pits, mons, pussy, and ass. A multi-colored sleeve of several lovers fucking in a collage of various positions circled her left arm. Focusing through the glass to the mirror behind her she saw the multi-colored ink that ran from shoulder to shoulder. ‘Ruckus,’ she smiled to herself. That was her, what she wrought, and so much more. The fact that in the mirrored image it read as ‘suckuR’ was not lost on her either.

She applied some baby powder to her arms and thighs and re-dressed in her lingerie. She had on a red lace half-cup bra that barely covered her nipples and pushed her cleavage up, a matching red lace thong that barely covered her shorn, wet, pussy, and red thigh-high stockings with red hooker heals to complete the ensemble. A spritz of perfume and she was off to find Eddie.

She smiled and winked at him as she exited from the backstage area to the meat market. He got up from the rail where her rival was showing off her wares and followed Svetlana to a small sofa in dark corner of the club.

“Hi sweetie. What’s your name hon?” Star said loudly to combat the rap playing in the background. Star gently pushed Eddie down onto the sofa. As she, followed, sitting next to him. Eddie replied.

“Really? Does it matter?”

“Don’t be like that sweetie. I need to call you something,” Star answered back.

“You can call me Ed.”

“Well, I’m Star. I like Eddie better. I’m going to call you Eddie,” she said as she giggled and kissed his cheek. “I’ve never seen you here sweetie. Are you new.” Star looked him over. ‘Nice watch. ‘Is that ring from Stanford?’ she thought to herself.

“First time here. Been to strip clubs before, years ago (he lied), in my twenties, with friends, but first time here.”

“I’m really thirsty after dancing Eddie. Would you mind?” Svetlana asked as she motioned to the bar across the room.

“Sure,” Eddie replied. “What can I get you?”

“Just tell Mike at the bar that it’s for ‘Star’. He’ll know what I want.”

Eddie got up and left the sofa and headed to the bar as yet another gangsta-rap tune blaired from the speakers. As he walked away, Star took stock of him. He was dressed in khaki slacks with a button-down shirt that was untucked and with the arms rolled to his mid-forearm. Greying hair, broad shoulders, a little pudgy, but, not a bad ass.

In a few minutes, Eddie returned with a $4 Sprite and a $10 champagne cocktail for Star. He sat down next to Star and handed her the glass.

Star sipped her drink while Eddie settled in, and then she stood and re-settled herself in his lap. She threw her arm around his Escort Çankaya neck and giggled in his ear.

“I love the champagne but the bubbles tickle my nose.”

Eddie had watched the ‘champagne cocktail’ being prepared. Two shots of second-class champagne to give it some color and seltzer water. Obviously, a money-maker for the bar that the girls get a cut from. “I’m surprised you can taste the champagne,” Eddie quipped.

“So, what brings you here tonight hon?”

“You,” Eddie answered somewhat sarcastically.

“I can tell,” Star replied as she wiggled her ass against his growing cock.

“You really want to know?” Eddie retorted.

“Of course, Eddie!” Star placed her drink on and end table and brought her hand to Eddie’s thigh.

“Well… my divorce is final,” Eddie confided. “Here’s to my ex-wife,” Eddie said as he raised his Solo cup of sugar water to the sky.

“Did she take it all baby? Alimony, I mean?”

“Oh, she got a pretty good settlement. I’m fine though.”

“Thanks again for the tip,” Star said as she raked his thigh with her nails.

“You earned it. I sat there through ten girls before you came out. The way you danced? The way you looked? You’re the best girl here Star. And, the fact that you dance to classic rock and stuff from my era doesn’t hurt either.”

“Thanks baby!” Star said as she unbuttoned the second button of his shirt. I’ve been doing this for four years and I love it! Besides, got to give the customers what they want!” she said.

Her fingers combed through the hair on his chest.

Eddie put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “I know what I’d like to do, but I guess I’ll settle for a lap dance.”

Star smiled and kissed him gently on the lips. “I’m all yours, lover,” she said.

Star stood up and retrieved her drink and with her free hand, she helped Eddie up from the sofa. Placing her hand in his, she delighted at how soft it felt. Most of her customers came from blue-collar jobs and the roughness of their palms was sometime welcome against her baby-soft skin. It was nice to have a change of pace though. Whatever Eddie did for a living, his hands were the softest she’d experienced in a long time and she was going to enjoy feeling him touch her.

Star headed off, with Eddie in tow, as they retreated to a booth for a private lap dance session.

“Have you got a $5 hun?”

Eddie brought a wad of bills from his pocket and rifled through them as Star saw hundreds, twenties, tens, and fives. He pulled out a $5 bill and she took it and fed it to a machine. Swallowing the bill, the machine buzzed and let them into a door shielding a row of private dance booths.

As they traversed the row of lap dance booths, Star disregarded the first well-lit few and headed into a darkened booth toward the end of the row.

“The bulb’s out in this one,” she said. “Normally, the light goes out as you feed the machine,” she said as she pointed down at another bill swallowing device. “When the timer runs out, the light come back on, but this one’s broke.”

As they waited for the playing ‘song’ to end, Star laid down the rules. Eddie seemed like a nice guy, upscale, polite, clean shaven and smelling of cologne. A welcome change from many of her clients.

“It’s $20 a dance sweetie. There’s a camera in the corner,” she pointed up, “and the bar tender keeps an eye on us. You’re supposed to sit there with your arms at your sides and I’m allowed to touch whatever I want but Mike’s a friend of mine and if I let you touch me, he’ll be ok with it, as long as I look like I’m having fun. So, follow my lead,” Star sermonized as she had with countless other clients.

As she finished her speech, Star took a draw of her champagne, then removed her bra and put it, and her cocktail, aside on a small ledged over Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie nodded his understanding of her instructions and handed her $60. Star took the money and held it while the rap droned on. She reached down and brought up his right hand into the light and examined the ring on his finger. An ‘S’ ensconced in ruby and the words surrounding it confirmed her question of its origin.

“Stanford Medical School,” Eddie confirmed. “I’m a surgeon.”

As the song ended, she fed the machine his twenties, and as the next song began she placed her arms around Eddie’s neck and undulated her crotch against his firm cock.

With most clients, Star remained somewhat perfunctory, rubbing her ass on their fabric covered cocks, letting them ogle her tits, pulling her thong to the side and flashing them with her pussy, while they remained obediently cock-held with their arms at their sides. But, Eddie wasn’t her usual client.

He was older than she… much older. “I’m 61,” was the answer to her interrogatory. “Too old for you,” he continued.

She had always found herself attracted to older men. They were more distinguished, more practiced in the art of love making, more stable, and she was thusly attracted to Eddie. The fact that he was a Stanford educated Çankaya Escort surgeon only sweetened the pot. Star crawled up into Eddies lap, threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck.

“You might be surprised Eddie. I’ve always had a thing for older men.” ‘Just ask my dad,’ Star thought silently to herself. “I’m a little bit of an old soul. I’m more about my dad’s music than the stuff that’s out today. I grew up on Ozzy, Van Halen, Led Zeppelin, Bruce Springsteen, Rush, Def Leppard, Metallica. Those are all my dad’s favorites. I’m also a fan of the eighties. Journey, Bon Jovi, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Black Eyed Peas, they all do it for me. I love to fuck to a lot of these bands. Some of the auto-tuned crap that passes for music these days… just listen to this shit. I can’t dance to that. My next set will be Nickelback and Daughtry.”

She felt comfortable sitting on his lap, her arms around his neck, her face buried in his neck, and he in hers. She inhaled deeply his scent. “What are you wearing?”

“Armani, Code”

He kissed her on the flesh at the base of her neck and she cooed and returned the favor.

Their ‘dance’ consisted mostly of necking, talking, and stolen caresses. She savored his touch, and he the softness of her skin.

“What kind of surgery do you do?” She asked.

He replied, “Heart Surgery.”


They talked about his job. He practiced in a busy heart surgery center at the local university hospital. He had been estranged from his now ex-wife for two years and had come to the club because he just wanted a night away from it all.

She revealed a little of herself as well. A college student, studying psychology, formerly of Las Vegas, she lived with roommates. No boyfriend, no kids.

He felt a little guilty, she, being around the same age as his daughters. She smiled and hugged him.

“I told you, I love older men. I’ve always been attracted to guys older than myself.”

Star was much different than other strippers Ed had encountered before. Not that he was an expert, but he went to another club in town every month or so and knew the girls there pretty well.

He had stopped here, quite by accident, while returning from a restaurant across town. Several of the nurses he worked with had been following his divorce and when it became final they convinced him to go out and celebrate. He probably could have gone home with at least two of them but a personal rule about not eating where you shit prevented him from doing that. That said, two of the nurses had paid quite a bit of attention to him that evening and almost seemed to be tripping over each other to see which one would harpoon his whale ass. Having those two cozy up to him all evening long had the

Strippers didn’t respond this way. Sure, the baited you, rubbed up against you, even tried to get you off, through your pants for the nice tip it would earn them, but they didn’t open up to you about their personal lives.

She once again buried her head in his neck and he plied soft wet kisses to her shoulder, to the base of her neck. She shuddered and the hair on her flesh stood at attention.

And then, it happened. She kissed him, lips to lips. It was a quick kiss but it was soft and inviting. This was an almost forbidden act in strip clubs. Strippers did not kiss clients like this. It surprised them both. “I like you. Really,” she said.

At her beckoning, the touching got bolder. She allowed his hands to rove over her skin.

He stroked her back and took those perfect ass cheeks in his palms and crushed her pelvis into his growing hard-on. She was only too happy to oblige and rocked her pelvis against him, the fabric of his trousers rubbing against her scantily clad vulva, making her moist and achy.

She faced him and brought his face to her bare breasts, not just to ogle up close, but to kiss, to lash with his tongue, to suckle with his lips.

She reversed position and now lay back against him. His hands roamed over her belly, cupping her breasts. His lips were at her neck, his tongue teasing her earlobe. Her perfume wafted into his nostrils, intoxicating him, seducing him.

She reached down and took his right hand and brought it to her crotch and laid it against her womanhood, then closed her legs around it. “I love to have my clit stroked,” she said. He obeyed and was rewarded as her ass massaged his engorged cock.

After three songs, he gave her more cash and she remained in his arms until it was her turn to dance again.

“Star to the main stage,” the announcer said.

“FUCK!” she blurted out. “They’re going to fine me for being late. I have to dance,” she said as she hastily did up her bra.

“I want to see more of you,” Star said.

“What’s your schedule?” Eddie replied.

“Sunday’s, Monday’s, Wednesday’s, Thursday’s,” she said, “but I want to see you away from the club. Can I get your phone number?”

“I’ll leave it with Mike.”

Star almost ran out of the door. “Every time they call your name it’s another Çankaya Escort Bayan $20.”

She kissed him and left him standing there with the biggest boner he’d had in years.

A Star stumbled out onto the stage, Eddie walked up to the bar.

“I’d like to leave a drink for Star,” he said to Mike.

Without a word, Mike concocted a ‘Champagne Cocktail’ and pushed it on a napkin toward Eddie.

“Ten bucks.”

Eddie reached into his pocket and pulled out a two twenties. “That’s for the drink, this is for her ‘fine’, and the other ten is for you to make sure she gets this.”

With that, Eddie took out a pen and wrote his cell phone number on the napkin.

“It’s a waste of good money my friend. She’s a stripper. This is what they do, but I’ll take your money, and so will she,” Mike said as he stuffed the ten in his pocket.

Eddie watched as Mike walked out from behind the bar with Star’s drink and disappeared back stage. He took one more look at Star before heading for the door.


That night at a little after 2 AM, Eddie got his first text from Star.

“eddie, this is sevetlana aka star. got your number, and drink :-). ttyl hun”

Over the next few days, they texted. She seemed different than strippers that had texted him in the past. It wasn’t just the typical ‘Hi baby. When you coming to see me?’ Instead, they chatted about other things. And, she gave him her real name. No stripper had ever done that before.

He returned to the club a week later to see her again, and again, they spent a long time together, talking, kissing caressing. He knew that he should consider himself nothing more than her client but she pressed for more.

“I really do like you.”

“I’m too young for you baby. I have daughters the same age.”

“Age doesn’t matter. I told you, I have a thing for older guys.” She smiled at him and kissed him again.

He invited her to dinner and she accepted. He didn’t know what caused him to do that. He expected that she’d quickly become bored with him and seek out men of her own age; young, virile men. Men that shared the same interests she did, watched the same TV shows. Men that would rock her world in ways that he hadn’t experienced in thirty years.

He had serious doubts about relationships like this. In fact, he had serious doubts about relationships at all.

Last year he met someone on a dating site and spent several months dating a woman 8 years his junior. She was beautiful, kind, loving.

Over the course of a couple of months, she started staying over more frequently. First it was Saturday nights, then weekends, then she would surprise him mid-week and he would find her waiting in his driveway when he arrived home. She was sexually insatiable. And he, divorced about a year from a marriage that had been sexless for several, was enjoying the attention.

He gave her a key so she didn’t ‘have to wait in the driveway’. Within a few weeks she moved in, without an invitation. She brought her clothing (lots of it), shoes, nick knacks, photo albums, and pieces of furniture.

Then there were the Teddy bears, lots of Teddy bears, all over his bed. HIS bed! He put up with it because she fucked him at every opportunity, at home, in the car, in the bathroom of a bar. She seemed like she couldn’t get enough of him.

Then he found out that just before they had met she had gotten a DUI and lost her job. He felt bad for her even if this seemed somewhat opportunistic.

She began complaining of money issues. She had her own apartment. Her daughter was living there and was going to college. He soon found himself paying the rent, the utilities, her auto insurance, and her legal fees, amounting to thousands of dollars a month.

How did this happen? It was like overnight he went from being a care free bachelor to being married again. At least he was getting fucked regularly. But, he was getting fucked in the proverbial sense as well.

As he thought about it more and more, he felt like he was really getting shafted. She was calculating. She needed a man of means that could support her and he had come along at the most opportune moment.

And then, there was her jealously and the double standards. Whenever he had a late surgical case she would accuse him of cheating. She even went so far as to have the hospital operator track him down at 1 AM just to make sure he was really in the OR.

When female work colleagues would text, asking for advice on how to treat patients from their ‘Chief’, she would tell him how inappropriate it was for other women to be texting him. All the while she continued to text with ‘an old friend’ that supported her emotionally when she lost her husband several years ago.

She finally got a job, and he’d had enough. He’d broken it off and threw himself back into the internet dating pool. But, it seemed as if every woman out there viewed him as their wallet. He was tired of it and took a break from dating, hoping that a quality woman would someday fall into his lap.

That was when he started frequenting the strip clubs. About once a month, he’d come in to blow off some steam. At least there, he knew exactly what he was getting. He was a client and for a couple of hundred dollars sexy young women would sit in his lap, moan in his ear as he held them, and get him hard.

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