“Gina Goes Topless” by mailto:[email protected]
It had been one of those dates that you always hope for in a relationship. Gina and I had gone out Saturday night for dinner, then a movie, and finally for drinks at a local bar before returning to her apartment for a night of torrid lovemaking.
First we had passionate, mattress pounding sex that left us both sweating together. Next, I followed that with slow lovemaking that lasted until the early hours. Nice, leisurely climaxes that left us both breathless. Finally, we both drifted off to sleep together, in each other’s arms.
“Morning, sweetie,” Gina said softly, awakening me from my state of half sleep.
“Morning, what time is it?”
“Hmmm, what a night,” I answered.
Even sweaty and disheveled from the night before, Gina still looked beautiful in bed. Insatiable, she might even want a quickie in the morning. She reached over and kissed me on the lips, then lay her head on my arm.
“So what did you do while I was away?” she asked.
Gina had spent a week with her parents in Arizona, then business in San Francisco, leaving me alone for two weeks.
“Oh, bummed around. Went to a few bars, looked at other women, got very lonely.”
“Do anything interesting?” she questioned.
“Went to a couple of topless bars,” I answered.
“Really? Tell me, what did you do there?”
“Dropped a few bucks on overpriced beers while watching women take their clothes off, played a pinball machine. Really a silly place.”
“What makes you say that?”
“A topless bar is where guys go who don’t have anything else to do. I’d rather be in bed with you than blowing money in a topless bar.”
“Take me to a topless bar?” Gina asked.
“Are you kidding? Now that’s really a guy place,” I answered.
“Don’t men take their girlfriends there?” she asked.
“Never,” I replied, “well, maybe once.”
“Years ago I went to a topless bar, and a guy and his girlfriend walked in for a drink. She was uncomfortable seeing a girl strip on stage. They stayed for one drink, then left.”
“Well, I’m curious now,” Gina said, “so I’d like you to take me.”
“C’mon, Dave,” she answered, “I didn’t say anything last year when you took me to that S&M clothing store down in Chelsea and made me try on that fetish clothing.”
“I thought you enjoyed that,” I answered.
“Maybe not at first. So now I’m asking you to take me to a place that you might go anyway. Please?”
“If you take me, I’ll dress more sexy when we go out on dates,” she offered, “and in the bedroom also.”
The way Gina dressed had been a sore spot between us ever since we had gotten serious in bed. She had an attractive body, yet dressed like a frump. Gina would wear dowdy clothes that she bought from mail catalogs, blouses and pants that hid her figure.
“What do you want for breakfast?” I asked, “McDonald’s or a diner.”
“I have eggs & English muffins in the fridge, so we can spend the morning reading the Times together,” she said, “after a quickie.”
Gina lay back down on her side of the bed, her hand reaching down under the covers to begin massaging my limp cock back to an erection. With her other hand she removed a wrapped condom from the night-table, and tore the foil with her teeth.
“Aaaah!” I moaned as my sore cock stood to attention from Gina’s stroking.
Ever so quickly, my cock soon grew erect, and Gina quickly unrolled the latex on my stiff rod. Sitting on top of me, she lowered herself onto my shaft, impaling herself on my hard dick. She then started a small bouncing motion, my cock pistoning itself within her. Gina emitted a series of low moans, opening herself to my knob inside her.
A morning quickie lacks the staying power after a night of sex. My cock soon grew even more rigid, and we both climaxed quickly, moaning together.
We seemed to cry in unison, Gina then falling on top me after we came at the same time. I pulled her lips close to mine, and we kissed wetly together.
“What a mess, I’ll have to change the bed,” she said, “and why do I always have to sleep on the wet spot?”
“One of the great mysteries of mankind,” I answered, fondling her right nipple.
“Well, one of us has to get up,” she said, “you get the Times, and I’ll get breakfast going.”
“Naked?” I asked playfully.
“Well it would give my neighbors something to talk about, now wouldn’t it?” Gina answered.
Two weeks later, I was picking up Gina at her apartment. We were going to double date with one of her girlfriends.
“Zip me up?” she asked.
“When did you buy this dress?”
“Last week, at Macy’s,” she answered. Her new dress was the famed little black dress, complete with black pantyhose and heels to match.
“That’s quite a change from Chadwick’s,” I observed.
“Surprise,” she answered.
“You know, I’ve been thinking. You’re right about the way I dress. From now on I’m going to look closely at the store ads every week, do try-ons in the department stores, and start dressing more like a woman than a sexless mannequin.”
Looking over at her TV stand, I noticed a new box standing upright. Gina isn’t one to collect tapes or movies, but I could read “Striptease” on the box. I pulled the box out, and showed it to her.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“I caught a few minutes of the movie on TBS, so I decided to buy the tape and see the movie uncut.”
“Did that satisfy your interest in going to a topless bar?” I asked.
“No, but G-String Divas on HBO did. We’ll watch that tonight in bed when we get back home.”
“You taped G-String Divas?” I asked, incredulous.
“Sure. Now let’s go out and surprise Susie with my new look.”
And Gina certainly did, her friend doing a classic double take when we picked them up at Susie’s apartment. After the date, and drinks, we found ourselves back at her apartment.
“I’ve got lots of new clothes I want to buy,” Gina began, “silk blouses, leather skirt and pants, a leather dress, and other very attractive things. From now on, when you take me into a club, I want to be the center of attention. So now it’s your turn.”
“Yes, in exchange for me dressing more sexy, I want you to take me into a topless bar. Else I’ll go on as before. Deal?”
With the tape of G-String Divas playing on the TV, and Gina in her underwear in my arms, the moment overtook me.
“Yes,” I answered, “deal.”
“OK, loverboy, hope you can keep up with me tonight,” she said, “cause I want to get fucked!”
“Then we’ll decide when to go.”
She led me into the bedroom and dimmed the lights.
“Time to perform, stud muffin,” she said when we were in bed together.
“Erect and ready for action!”
And I was too!
The rain had been pouring down when I picked Gina up at her place. She was wearing a black T-shirt, jeans, and high-heeled boots. All new, since I had never seen her wearing any of those before. By the time we got to the topless bar, the rain had stopped and the clouds were breaking up.
“Why did we have to go on a Monday night?” she asked.
“Because it’s not too busy.”
“But I’m sure it would be better on a crowded night.”
“Do you want to get raped on the pool table?” I answered, “you agreed to go on my terms, remember?”
“Yes,” she pouted as I parked the car.
“OK, party time,” I said.
Gina didn’t wait for me to open the car door. Instead, she got out herself, and we walked to the door together. She let me hold the door open for her, and we entered into the male realm.
After Mayor Giuliani had shut down the sex shops and strip bars in New York City, our only alternative had been to drive all the way out to Suffolk County. Bogarts was a favorite of mine out on Sunrise Highway, and I had been there enough times to know that it was OK. Suddenly I remembered the movie “Marty” where Ernest Borgnine and his friends were discussing going to New Jersey to see Burlesque, which LaGuardia had banned in NY.
The bar wasn’t too crowded. A couple of guys sitting at the bar, nursing drinks. Two bikers playing pool and others seated at the stage. To the music of Donna Summer’s “Love to You Love Baby” was a girl removing her top, dressed in a G-String and red thigh high leather boots.
“Sure you want to go in?” I asked softly.
“You bet,” she answered, “let’s sit at the stage.”
Gina and I sat down at the bar, and a waitress soon appeared. I ordered two beers, which the waitress quickly produced. We sat together, watching the girl gyrate on stage. Soon the dancer knelt in front of Gina, displaying her breasts and bottom. From her pocket Gina removed a dollar bill, and placed it under the dancer’s G-String.
“Come here often?” asked the dancer.
“No,” Gina answered.
The dancer then scissored herself over to one of the other men at the bar. Gina took a few swallows of her beer. I expected her to ask to leave, but she stayed put. We sat through one dancer set, then another, drinking a new round each time.
When she finally stood up, she clutched her beer in one hand and her purse. Instead of going to the bathroom, she walked over to the pool table! She placed down four quarters, and waited.
One of the bikers had won the last game, and he approached Gina.
“You want to play, girlie?” he asked.
“Rack em up,” Gina answered.
Being a regular at Bogarts, I knew the biker was a classic pool shark. I’d seen him win time after time. I knew that he would make short work of Gina.
“Stripes or solids?” he asked.
“Solids,” answered Gina.
I had never played pool with Gina before. In fact, we had never discussed it. I was therefore quite shocked to watch as she sunk every one of her balls, one after another.
“Just luck,” said the biker, “another game.”
Gina then proceeded to win four games in a row before she finally gave up the table. She beat both bikers in four games, sinking every ball in quick succession. Neither of them even came close to beating her.
“That was nice,” said Gina, as we sat back together at the stage, “I want another beer, and I’m buying.”
Gina looked positively happy as she placed a couple of dollars into a dancer’s thigh high black heeled boot, clearly enjoying all of the attention that she had attracted. She polished off her beer quickly, and then she stood up.
“Ready to go?” I asked, “or more pool?”
“Let’s go,” she said, “it’s been a full night.”
Everyone watched as we left together. All eyes, from the staff to the patrons, watched us as we went out the door into the chill night.
“Where did you learn to play pool like that?” I asked as we drove towards home.
“Dad didn’t want us hanging out, so he put a pool table in the basement for us kids. Nobody could beat me in High School or College.”
“I’m sure about that. Have a good time?”
“You bet. Thanks.”
Relieved, I drove through the quiet empty streets. What I had thought would be at most a half-hour was instead two hours in Bogarts. Since it was Monday night, now early Tuesday, the roads were empty.
“And I meant what I said, from now on I’m going to dress a whole lot better. From now on the only catalog I’m going to buy from is Frederick’s – or something very similar.”
“I’m glad you had such a nice time.”
“Pity it’s a work day – else you could spend the night,” she offered.
“No, Friday – and come at 10 PM – I’ve got something special planned.”
Friday finally arrived, and I drove to Gina’s apartment to pick her up for our mystery date. I knocked at the door twice, figuring that she was getting dressed before the door finally opened.
“Sharon?” I asked, “what are you doing here?”
Sharon was one of Gina’s friends, who made extra money as a cocktail waitress on the weekends. She had opened the door, and she was dressed in her uniform. Black satin bodysuit, black pantyhose, and matching heels.
“Please come in, show’s about to start.”
She let me into the foyer and placed my jacket in the hall closet. The vertical blinds had been drawn, and there was very little light to see. Sharon motioned me forwards into the living room, and I followed her.
“Wow!” escaped my lips.
The living room was completely unrecognizable. All that was left was the couch and table. Mirrors now covered the back wall, two poles reached from floor to ceiling in the center of the room.
What was even more surprising were the signs on the walls:
“1 Drink Per Dancer Set”
“No Touching Of Dancers Allowed”
“Management Reserves The Right To Eject Unruly Patrons”
“Lap Dances $20.”
Gina had copied every sign that had been posted at Bogarts!
“Drink?” asked Sharon.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Bud,” I answered, realizing that whatever was going on, I had to play along.
Suddenly the sounds of “Dirty Laundry” by Don Henley came from the stereo. I seated myself on the couch, and watched as Sharon walked over to the kitchen. She returned quickly, and placed the beer bottle in front of me.
“That will be six dollars, please,” she said.
“Seems pretty steep to me,” I answered as I fished out a ten from my wallet. Sharon made change, and I gave her a two-dollar tip, which she placed inside her bodysuit by her right breast.
The track lighting brightened slowly, and Gina walked out of the bedroom. I had a hard time restraining a whistle.
Gina was now dressed in a pair of red thigh high-heeled boots, and a skimpy top and skirt. Which I guessed that she wouldn’t be wearing for too long! Gina then began to dance to the music, and gyrated between the two poles. I began to drink my beer in silence.
“Come here a lot?” asked Sharon.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Management here sure has changed,” she said.
“Yes it has,” I answered, “for the better.”
Gina had never told me that she had taken dance lessons, but it was apparent from the way she was performing that she had. She was just too skillful to get up there and strip without any training.
When she came over and lay on the table I placed a dollar bill under the elastic of her G-String, she pursed her lips as if to thank me, then resumed her dance. After two more songs, she walked out towards the bedroom.
Dutifully I paid Sharon for another beer, and Gina then came out and did another set, even sexier that the first set. She finally concluded by placing herself wearing only a G-String and heels on the table in front of me.
“Want a Lap Dance?” asked Gina, looking every bit the striptease artist.
“Yes,” I said, pulling a twenty out of my wallet and handing it to her.
Gina got off the table, and began to gyrate directly in front of me. I could smell the perfume that she had placed between her breasts, and her skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat from her dancing.
“You’re a pretty good customer, mister. Good customers get an extra bonus.”
Gina then sat on my lap and began to unbutton my shirt, followed by my black jeans. She pulled off my undershirt, and my jeans followed, along with my underwear onto the floor. Gina then stripped off her G-string, and sat on the other side of the couch. I removed a condom from a box that had mysteriously appeared on the table, and unrolled it onto my raging hard cock. Gina opened her legs, and I penetrated her.
“Ohhh, give it to me mister,” she cried, “I’m just a bitch in heat!”
I rammed my cock inside her, making her squirm and moan. Leaning over her, I pushed deep inside her, then pulled out, only to go back in again.
“Ahhhh! Ooooh!” Gina cried.
Gina scissored her legs behind my naked butt, driving me deeper inside her. I was determined to give her the most raging orgasm that she would ever have, even if it was on the couch!
“Ah!” I moaned, pounding down on her, making her breasts bounce and squeezing them between us.
All that mattered now was my pulsating hard shaft inside her cunt. I held her close to me, and our thighs melted together into one. From the way my latex covered cock easily slid inside her, I knew that she was wet with desire for me. I wouldn’t disappoint her either!
“Fuck me!” she cried, “I’m just a slut dancer!”
My tempo increased, and I knew that I was finally there. She matched me stroke for stroke, as I began to come inside the latex. My cock pulsed with every orgasm, and I could feel as Gina writhed in orgasm with mine.
“Aaaah!” we both cried together in orgasm, sweat dripping off us both onto the couch.
We lay together in silence, with only the sounds of “Love To Love You Baby” in the apartment. I guessed that in all the excitement, Sharon had quietly left.
“That was excellent,” I said.
“You bet,” answered Gina.
Later that night, after watching “Striptease” and making love again, we lay in bed together, Gina snuggled up close to me.
“Was this the best time you’ve ever had in a topless bar?” asked Gina.
“Yes, that was great.”
“Want to come back here then – to Bogarts West?”
“Yup. Drinks are pretty expensive though,” I pointed out.
“I’m sure that something can be worked out with management,” Gina answered.
I held Gina close to me, happy with everything just then. Saturday Gina was as good as her word, as we went shopping together for some sexy clothing. Somehow I just knew that things were going to be different from now on.