It wasn’t at the club. I got a private dance from a stripper that probably should have retired 5 years earlier. She had wrinkles, and big fake tits to compensate for her age. She was looking lonely, but fuck I’m not getting any younger either.
We went back to the room, she stripped, grinded on me, and then headed back out the the club. On her next round, she sat next to me and we chatted. She was complaining about some electrical problems at home, and I had a pretty good idea on how to fix them. She suggested I come over, I thought she was joking. But i gave her my number, figuring I’d never hear from her.
The next day, though, she texted me a picture of the outlet and asked when I could help out. I was able to that evening, and she would be home too, as luck would have it. She gave me her address and I headed over.
She answered and was dressed in a tight v-neck T-shirt, and jeans that might as well have been painted on. She was holding a beer in one hand, and offered me one as we went to the bathroom, where the issue existed.