"Um, I like him instead!", clamored Dara as she ran her hands over the picture of a well-toned brunette with a chiseled face several spots over from ol' Tex. "Ya, me too, but he's not going be here for another two weeks," pouted Rita as she pointed out the pretty boy's appearance dates.
I could tell at that moment that it was going to be an interesting evening. I mean, here Maz and I were, at the premiere gay strip club in San Francisco with two beautiful women. Nob Hill for Men- heck, even the name of the club sounded flaming. Now, we sure weren't gonna stick out like a sore thumb or anything, were we?
After we entered the den of man love, we immediately spot a plethora of toys: Dildos, vibrators, and of course, Swedish penis pumps. The odd thought of the moment was, "Wow, these are all for men instead of women." After stalling for a few minutes in the gift shop, we decided to head inside.
Our little group took most of a row of seats in the cinema styled theater as our eyes adjusted to the dim seediness that was known as the main room. A big movie screen ran the full length of the back wall, but nothing was playing at that particular moment. There was some nice "bow chika bow bow" music in the background however. We had to squint to survey the scene.
Ever see an octopus wrap itself around something? That's what one customer looked like wrapped around a muscular dancer wearing a g-string plastered with an American flag. I don't think I've seen as much groping in the last 10 strip clubs I had been to, and that included some pretty nasty ones. I mean, this customer's hands were everywhere! A quick glance back a few moments later caused a definite double take. Yup, the dancer had pulled himself out and was stroking away vigorously. Wow, I didn't know they could do that here in the open like that.
As our eyes got totally accustomed to the darkness, one thing became apparent: there were mostly women customers here! When I thought we'd stick out, I was right, but not because we came with two women, but rather because we were part of the very small male contingent in the theater. I guess weekends are geared more towards bachelorette parties and women's nights out. There was another dancer a few rows up stroking himself in front of a group of cooing women trying to cop a feel. If you think us men look for mileage at strip clubs, you haven't been to a male strip club with hordes of horny women yet, have you? I'd say most women are ten times grabbier than men in strip clubs.
It didn't take long for the fella with the American flag g-string to spot Rita with her wildly sensual red hair. Within several minutes of us sitting down, he had positioned himself in front of her, had her legs over her shoulders as he ground away with 14 different types of pelvic thrusts. All Rita could do was look over at Dara and I with a big smile on her face. "What's your name?", asked Rita. "Neek," answered the beefy Russian. It took us awhile to figure out what his name actually was. Maz thought it was 'Neck', Dara thought it was 'Meat', and I had no idea whatsoever. It turned out to be Nick.
While Rita was getting the dance of her life, Dara looked over at me and quickly snapped, "I knew I shouldn't have worn these glasses! He totally ignored me with these things on!" Hey, I wouldn't have ignored ya baby! The action was getting pretty hot and heavy while Nick tried to procreate through fabric with Rita in a pretzel position. She still had this big cheesy smile on her face however. Now I really know what we look like when we're getting a good dance.
After what seemed to be a few songs of Rita gropage, Nick came up for a breath of air. Rita noticed a ring on his finger and asked if he was married. "Yes, but she is in Russia", was his reply as he pressed his groin into Rita again. I tried in vain to buy Maz a dance from Nick, but the only thick accented reply I got from the beefy Russian was, "I only dance for women." Well, there goes that interesting and amusing idea.
Nick worked his way towards the stage to finish up his performance. A bit of strutting, some swinging, and some hip and pelvic thrusts and Nick was off the stage and back into the dressing room. Maz and Dara both commented on how they couldn't believe all these women paid for these men to grind all over them. Not much different than regular strip clubs with the opposite sex eh?
Soon after both dancers cleared the main room, the movies came on. Ah, guys blowing guys. Hey Laar, are you reading this? But waitaminute! If this club was supposed to be so gay, especially with the gay flicks running on the screen even, how come almost the whole audience was women? You would think that they'd switch the films to a more hetero genre if they gear it that way for weekends. But no, male on male fellatio and ass romping were what we got on screen that night. The announcer screeched over the PA, "The dancers are in the showers, you can get private shows if you wish."
Of course we wandered through the halls into the private show booths. The doors were open and we could see right through. There was Nick, stroking himself in the shower, behind a wall of plexiglass. So what did we do? All four of us crammed into this little booth and shut the door. It didn't take long for Nick to notice us as we crammed a few bills into the tip slot. Stroke stroke ... more stroking. Hey, why isn't he getting hard? "Well, you'd have a hard time getting it up too if you just did an eight hour shift of this!", answered Maz. I had forgotten that he had danced in some seedy club back on the right coast in his younger days.
Out of nowhere, this semi pretty gal pops into the shower room where Nick was. Hmm... What was she doing in there? "Get a private show!", she squawked. Huh? A private show? What was this all about? She was actually shilling for him! "Hey, buy a private show with Nick", she screeched again from the other side of the plexiglass. I couldn't believe it! A shill in the showers! There was another dancer who was already dressed who kept popping his head into the room as well and looking into our booth. I guess they weren't used to seeing that many people in a booth.
It only took about two or three minutes before Dara and Rita tempted Nick to leave the showers and beeline it straight for our booth. Yes, he actually walked out of the shower room, naked, through the club, down the side hall, and into our booth. The dripping wet Russian came in and started stroking himself towards Rita while she was cornered against me and the wall. Maz was looking down at Nick stroking away and Dara took off her glasses.
"It must have been the glasses", Dara said in retrospect. And I think it was! Because less than 30 seconds went by from the time Dara took her glasses off to her being pressed up against the plexiglass by the wet mass of a man. "Where have you been?", grunted the Rusky. "Uh, duh!", I could see in Dara's expression. Although her eyes were pretty wide open at this point with Nick grinding his wet self all over her. You seem to be all wet Dara! "It sure isn't from being turned on!", she snapped back as she looked at her outfit with big wet marks all over it.
Knock knock. It's the Shill Chick! We open the door and she comes in too. At this point, there were six of us crammed into this little booth. She just doesn't give up! She starts deeply kissing Nick and then turns to us, "So, why don't you guys buy a show?" Heck, we're getting one right now! I mean, what kind of show does she want us to buy? I asked her if she meant a show of her and Nick fucking, but she replied, "No, a show of Nick!" Er, excuse me, but what do you think we were doing? He seemed to be doing fine without your help! Now looking back at the whole situation, I guess she meant a show of Nick fucking one of the girls perhaps? Who knows what these wacky San Francisco connotations mean.
Knock knock. Who could it be this time? Ah, it was the other male dancer. The one who was peeking earlier from inside the shower room. "Do you wanna come in too?", asked Dara. He looked inside, thought about it for a brief moment like he really wanted to, then said, "There's NO way I'm gonna fit in there, I'm 6'4"." While this was happening, Nick had reverted his attention back to Rita again, groping, trying to nibble. Shill Chick was grabbing on Nick. This was getting ugly. It was obvious that Shill Chick was a Nob Hill Dancer Groupie (NHDG), and a possessive one at that.
It was about time for us to get out of there and we started to make our way out of the booth. Rita yelled back at Nick, "We're going to Power Exchange, meet us there!" He kind of grunted and agreed, but all Shill Chick could say was, "Do you want to get a private show with Nick at Power Exchange?" Give it up already! With that, we ended our interesting night at Nob Hill for Men. What a different, yet exhilarating experience. We never did make it to Power Exchange, but maybe Shill Chick finally got to sell a private show for Nick.
LMR
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Las Vegas Strip Club Review
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