Dating an exotic dancer

I would post a picture but I dunno how that would go.

I think my next step is to wait and find out if she might be pregnant. As far as her texting other dudes - Until I find out about the constant flow of text messages.

Look — walking into this without a goal is certain means for failure, because she operates on her own terms and if you let her manipulate you and lead the show, you’re sunk. It’s her job to make guys feel like they’re the only one she’s interested in. That sultry stare she’s giving you across the dinner table with those piercing green eyes is the same look that forces 75 men-a-night to fumble for their wallets and jam fistfuls of green into her G-string even though they’re six months behind on child support. Your future with this chick: broken dates, shattered windows, holes punched in doors, a slew of ex-boyfriends and husbands, a thousand "friends" calling all the time, an encyclopedia of restraining orders she has out on said exes and a couple customers who stalked her for six months. " DO remember this: strippers are more fucked up than The Who was during their 1973 U. They’ve got it all and they don’t need you or anyone else. Compound that and it’s a nice little used Hobie Cat or a decent house payment.

You’re one of 18 guys she’s juggling right now, and one of a hundred who witness her naked glory every night. She’s ripping 2-5K a week tax-free, and you shouldn’t expect her to pay for anything. Guys fawn all over her every single night and offer her stacks of crisp Benjamins in an effort to get their knobs slobbered on in the parking lot behind the club (something she’ll claim she’s never done, but the other girls at the club have — right — she’s done it at least once). If you get emotionally involved with this girl, you’re in for a hurricane of pain. Pull the battery or she’s going to get some call at midnight, when you’ve got the Miles Davis playing lightly in the background, and the candles illuminating the room in a soft glow and you think you’re about to "storm the beach." This call will undoubtedly be from one of her "friends" who is going to an after-hours party at some country bar and all of the sudden she’ll squeal with delight and jot down the address on her hand and say to you, "Let’s go Two-Stepping at the Country Bunker with John and Kevin! They’re a bad lot to hang out with, because there’s so much freedom and money in Stripperville.

They saw the Promised Titty Land and thought they could get there, too.

Once they tired of the bullshit and drama, or she found someone else, they were relegated to "friends." They could’ve bought a fucking sailboat with all the money they blew on young Cinnamon, and now they hang on to some last vestige of hope, thinking that she may just get drunk enough some night and let them put their spit on the slit.

Cut the movie short because it sucked and went back to my place. I end up banging her with no condom and she says she has no birth control. Keep in mind I just met this chick like a little over a month ago.

I just think her texting while with me is a little excessive.

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We end up in a private area for no money and she ends up sitting on my lap sucked on my neck and asked to kiss me which is not allowed in the club. Gave me her number and I left thinking I had a fake number. I know she doesn't want to dance for much longer and she wants to settle down. Just wanted to know if anyone else has had experiences with exotic dancers?

Called her up and chatted about this and that and had a nice little conversation with her, huh? " And you, still gripping on to that glimmer of hope for some pussy, will say yes and you’ll spend the next three hours in a simmering rage while you quaff watered-down Bud Light drafts, because she’s the most popular girl in the bar and every person with a penis in there is looking to hop on the Stripper Wagon that is blazing through Stripperville at a very unsafe speed.

First of all, you’ve got to have a destination in mind before you embark on this venture. A few fun evenings out on the town with a little hottie on your arm? The guy friend will ask her — right in front of you — if she wants to go to Happy Hour at the Knick Knack Paddy Whack Lounge and she’ll look at you with bright eyes and say, "Yeah — let’s go to Happy Hour with Tim here — it’ll be fun!

Sure they're at work taking their clothes off rubbing there asses and tits on a guy, hustling the sucker to cough up money.

Sure they get offered money for sex, but that doesn't mean all of them will do it. Put it this way, most men say the only way to sleep with a stripper is to pay her, or buy her expensive things.