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    Rip Skor
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The content presented here is for informational or educational purposes only. These are just the authors' personal opinions and knowledge.
Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are based on the authors' lives and experiences and may be changed to protect personal information. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Boy Story: Go North Young Man - 3. Saturday Night!

Saturday Night!

 

The next day was Saturday and would be our first full day and night in Montreal. We did some touristy things during the day like walking through Old Montreal, taking a jet boat ride on the river, and ending at the botanical garden. Every so often I would daydream about that boy we had seen the night before. He was the whole package. I praised him out loud the first couple of times to my friends, but then kept it to myself so it wouldn’t appear like an obsession. However, I found my friends in agreement…that boy was a 10.
I found myself anticipating the night.

I’ll cut to the chase. We decided to go to Club David at about the same time, so we’d get some underwear dances and the all-important nude sets. We saw Shawn looking every bit as hot as the previous night, but even better inside a pair of black boxer briefs. He seemed to have the full attention of everyone in the club, especially mine.

“God damn, they don’t make boys like that where I come from,” I joked to the guys in my group.

“Well, why don’t you hit him up for a private dance?” my friend Andy suggested.

“Nah, I couldn’t do that,” I admitted.

“Why not? That’s what they’re here for!” Bob declared.

“I’m…I’m too…embarrassed,” I admitted.

“Embarrassed? About what?” Andy asked.

“Maybe embarrassed isn’t the right word,” I explained. “I’m self-conscious.”

“Nah, you’re unconscious! Just go up to him and tell him you want to buy a dance,” Bob said.

“Uh, I don’t know. I just don’t want to…”

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Tommy said coming to life. “Do you want me to ask him for you?”

“Really? Would you?” I asked.

“Fine. Otherwise we’ll be listening to you procrastinating all night for no reason,” Tommy grumbled. “So where did the little shit go?”

We all scanned the club for signs of Shawn. Not even a whiff.

“Wait until his nude set and you’ll have him in your crosshairs,” Andy pointed out.

So we waited until it was time for Shawn’s nude dance. He appeared and walked through the audience to the stage door while the guy before him was about halfway through his dance. Then the French announcer went into his spiel in French again…eventually ending with the word “Shawn.”

Once again, Shawn’s beauty was unparalleled. Though I was preoccupied following the image of his cock and balls and his cute bubble butt, every inch was a pleasure to feast on with the eyes. I found myself needing to catch my breath. He was literally breathtaking.

Just before the dance was over, Tommy got up and walked over near the stage door. The next dancer went up on stage and started his performance. Where was Shawn? Finally, the door opened and Shawn walked out. Tommy called out to him and they started chatting. Tommy pointed over at our table and they both stopped talking and looked over. I put my hands over my face in mock embarrassment. They both began approaching.

Shawn stopped on the other side of the table from me. He was wearing a gray one-piece spandex singlet. “You want to buy a dance?” he asked as his eyes sparkled.
“Yes!” I managed to squeak out as my throat tightened. He moved over to my side of the table and crouched down next to me.

“I have someone waiting out back for a dance. As soon as I’m finished with him, I’ll come out to get you, OK? Just don’t change tables so I can find you,” Shawn directed.

“Sure, OK,” I replied.

Shawn put his hand on my shoulder as he got up out of his crouch. Then he gently patted my shoulder and went off to thrill yet another happy patron of the arts waiting in the mystical “back room.” I touched my shoulder where his hand had been and made a face of mock ecstasy cracking up my friends at the table.

We sat and watched dancer after dancer come and go. After about 45 minutes, half of our table decided to move on to the other stripper bar nearby to see what they had to offer. Two of my friends, Tommy and David (yes, inside Club David!), stayed behind to keep me company. As the minutes continued to tick away, David leaned over and said, “Do you think he forgot about you?”

I just looked at him and shrugged my shoulders. As the waiting lengthened to over an hour, I had my doubts. I said, “So what do you think? Another ten minutes and we leave?”
They shook their heads in agreement.

About three minutes later from behind me I hear, “Oh my gosh, you’re actually still here!" It was Shawn and he HADN'T forgotten about me. "I AM SO SORRY! The customer before you kept buying more and more dances…22 in all!”

“Oh wow, really?”

“It was unbelievable… a record number for me,” Shawn added.

“We’re gonna go,” Tommy broke in. “We’ll meet you over there when you’re done, OK?”

“At KOX?”

“Yeah.”

“OK.”

 

 

Q

©Copyright 2017 Rip Skor; All Rights Reserved
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The content presented here is for informational or educational purposes only. These are just the authors' personal opinions and knowledge.
Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are based on the authors' lives and experiences and may be changed to protect personal information. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Oooh! What will happen in that room...? Apart from some heavy breathing and heart palpitations... Will they talk? Or will it end in more pining from afar?

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What does go on in those private dance rooms at every stripper bar? Does it vary by club? Does it vary by country? Does it vary by dancer? Does it vary by client?

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