Reasons for dating a dancer Daddy dom chat room
A true master on the dance floor will be able to naturally translate those hip skills to the bedroom." /We've got passion for days. Anyone who can rock the dance floor has enough endurance to not get winded after 3 minutes and ask you to handle the rest on top.
Nothing's worse than a wet blanket in the bedroom, and I'm not talking about the comforter.
If she wants you to pick her up, she'll most likely run and jump on you like she's reenacting a scene from .4.
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.
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.
You guys could all get together and swap the exact same stories about wasted nights, full-blown disappointment, and confused, desperate whack-off sessions when you all found out that dating a stripper is no different than trying to debate Nietzsche with a Dalmation. Her life is a flurry of activity selected at random. At 10am she will be rocketing down the freeway at 130mph on the back of some guy’s crotch rocket. That Saturday night dinner and special room you’ve secured at the fucking Ritz will be vaporized after she tells you she’s going to Mexico with some of her "friends." Her whimsical trip to Mexico will forever after be known as Cabo Wabo Orgy 2002, and you’ll likely come across some digital pix of her fellating two guys on the beach in Cabo while you’re scanning some amateur porn site on the Net.
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.
Keep in mind that she pulls down more than most corporate attorneys (who also represent a large portion of her clientele). At some early point in the evening though, you’re going to have to find her cell phone in her purse and steal the battery out of it, because that thing will ring incessantly and she will eventually find something or someone better to do. Here are a few tips because dating a stripper is a hazardous affair and the only thing you’re going to get out of this insane ride are bragging rights for the rest of your life. She meets 50 guys a night who are potential dates, so she’s just playing the odds with you. You’ll never change her or pull her out of Stripperville. Her apartment is littered with soggy G-strings and cheap 8-inch heeled shoes, along with empty tubes of body glitter, mascara, prescription drugs, zit cream, Aqua Net and Polaroid pictures of her and her "friends" engaged in some drinking and dancing on St. The Polaroid pictures of her and her stripper friends getting nasty for the entire bar are still circulating around town because one of the guys she dated last month stole them out of her nightstand when he sensed the end was near and he wasn’t going to be getting any more Cinnamon Love. She has more guy friends than you had all throughout high school and college, collectively. All they need is their Xanax and Raspberry Stoli on the rocks and their job. That’s what fuels the lifestyle and you’re never going to pry her from it. If your goal from the aforementioned list is "sex," you need to understand that it’s going to take at least five dates. While that fine body, devoid of tan lines, might fuel you to the fifth date, I’d recommend looking into escort services in your area.