From: DrD <spamblock@yahoo.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.strip-clubs
Subject: ASSC: AFTSD 2003 East St. Louis Stage Mileage
Date: 2 Dec 2003 05:38:08 -0800
Organization: Erisian Anarchists Seeking You
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Message-ID: <bqi4k001be9@drn.newsguy.com>
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Most of you guys will never get here.  It's a long drive--most of it through
parts of America that are quite scenic, but severely lacking in people, or vice
versa.  But somehow, I found this area.  It took a long trip around, but I'm
here and you're not.

Anywhat, my topic is stage mileage, and, in particular, stage mileage at clubs
in what is probably one of the most economically depressed areas in America.  At
the clubs I frequent here, stage time is highly interactive.  Most of the stages
are positioned so that a young lovely can lie on her back, raise her knees, and
scootch along the floor using her butt muscles so that one has a perfect view of
the pearl.  Some are such great scootchers that they will accidentally end up
shoving their entire cootchie into one's face.  That would be worth....$2.  They
might keep it up for two or three minutes, until some sort of natural miracle
occurs, and an ambrosia-like elixir starts to glisten in the area in question. 
That would be worth....another $2.  Thus ends song one of a three song (all
uncut) rotation.  Song two generally will start with your amour of the moment
climbing down off stage and asking you to push your chair back, so that she has
some room.  Reverse cowgirl, and she grabs your hands to cover her breasts,
trying her damnedest to poke holes in your palms with her nipples.  She might
reach around to readjust Mini Me, so that he would best enjoy the frottage that
is occurring.  That would be worth....another $2. She swings around to face you,
trying her best to put out your eye with those damned rock-hard nipples.  She
cups the boobage around your version of Verne Troyer, then reaches up the leg of
your shorts, groping as if for a life preserver.  The second song ends, and that
would be worth....$2.  Song three comes on, and if you are the only one at stage
on, say, a Tuesday afternoon, she continues these offstage antics.  Somehow,
those nipples drag across your cheeks, in search of a tongue, or a set of lips. 
Her hands roam, as do yours. If you have correctly positioned yourself in the
room, she can hide so that it looks like your sitting alone at the stage--but
you're not.  Some stunning vixen is trapped between your legs and the stage, and
she has the most demanding fingers, working hard to make sure you are having a
good time.  Uh, that would be worth another...$2.  As the final song draws to a
conclusion, she rises up and shakes her booty in your face, then turns and
whispers in your ear, "It feels to me like you and I should go get nasty. What
do you think?" The song ends, and you come up with another....$2.

And now you must choose between what's on the stage, and what is behind door
number three.  No Monty Hall here.

Hmm, what would YOU choose?

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