Richard Thruster

After a funky Friday night, which I promise I’ll get to, I needed something to cleanse the pallet.  The choice came down to the 205, Jiggles, or The Dolphin II.  Each had their merit.  The 205 is closer to home and Jiggles features a younger crew that I have yet to review, but the D2 had something neither of the others did.  Raquel.  Redhead strippers are few and far between.  Even fewer are really hot ones.  And Raquel is certainly that.  So flush with a grip of cash from my night gig, I made the trek out to Beaverton Saturday night to visit my new favorite.

Rolling in, the girl at the door was going over the menu.  I asked her what she was having as I paid my cover.  She replied the fettuccini was pretty good.  That’s surprising since normally I don’t equate Italian with a strip club.  “Actually”, she said, “anything with chicken is pretty good.”  Worth noting.  There are only two menus in town I’ve been wanting to check out:  the legendary steak at the Acropolis and the bar food at the 205.  Everywhere else has left me kinda squeamish.

Moving through the door I immediately scanned the place for Raquel.  The plan was to stick like Velcro to her until she’d taken all of my money.  Unfortunately she wasn’t working.  And that just sucked.  Is she still out there?  Has she moved somewhere else?  I need to know!  I’ve got singles that need to be thrown!

It wasn’t long before Plan B came into focus.  Sitting in the back corner, nursing my beer and feeding Raquel’s money into the video poker machine, the DJ announced Jewel was next up on the main stage.  The pole stage.  Time to go make acquaintances

.

After my last time in there, I was 99% sure she knew who I was.  How could she not?  Everytime she was on stage, I was right there.  Then a couple of days later a glowing report showed up on the Internet.  I figured the gig was up.  And besides I owed her a couch dance to see how the new improved Jewel stacked up against the old jabby Jewel.

I sat down in a corner and waited for the show to start.  She immediately saw me and smiled.  Yeah.  She knew.  The show was spectacular as usual all the way down to hanging from the rafters by her legs and swinging back.  Oh goodness.  Her set ended with her naked, sitting on the rail with her back to me.  *Sigh*  As she scooped up the bills she asked if I wanted a private dance.  I did.  She told me to meet her in the back for the next tune.  I headed straight for the ATM, because I knew this wouldn’t be a one-tune thing.

It took an extra minute to get cash from the machine.  Looking across the room, I could see Jewel was looking for me.  In the room.  Around the entrance.  It’s probably not the first time someone had disappointed her.  She’s a businesswoman and probably doesn’t take kindly to a-holes who run off on her.  I caught her eye and assured her I was hitting the ATM.  Probably a good sign from her perspective.

We retired to the same couch Roxy and I had used a few weeks ago.  We made some small talk while we waited for the next tune to start.  Didn’t she know me from the Dolphin 1.  Do I come here often.  All that sort of stuff.  Pretty soon the song began.  She took off my glasses and went to work.  She started out asking what I liked.  Knowing that she knew who I was, I sensed she wanted to give me a good show.  I assured her I was in her hands and she could do whatever she wanted.  She rubbed the back of my neck, asked if I liked it, and we were off.

After my last couch dance with Jewel, the one where I swore I’d never make that mistake again, The Librarian and I hatched a book idea.  It would be a sales book comparing the sales game to the stripping game.  It’s all about sales, you see.  And the two things all “successful” sales guys and managers love are strippers and metaphors.  If you’ve ever read that book Who Moved My Cheese or, the even more dreadful, Fish!, you know of what I speak.  We had the outline all done up during our drive back home one night.  Unfortunately neither one of us remembered to write any of it down.  So it’s lost to the ages.  Except one chapter title.  “Can’t get past the jabby”  In a word, that was my initial issue with Jewel.  It was all finger-tips and jabbing.  Not a good thing.

Jewel, though, is a smart cookie.  She’ll see if something’s not working and adapt.  She’s honed her craft and is good at it.  Both on stage and now on the couch.  Where before it was sort of frenetic and…well, jabby, now it’s softer, more free flowing, and…well, nice.  Some nuzzling, some blowing on my ear, and lots of rubbing earned her a second dance.  Oh!  And a nice shot of her cleavage while she lay on my lap and rubbed the back of my head.  Heaven.  Jewel has one of the best bodies going.  Period.  And $20 to have her lay down on my lap and show it to me (even though it was covered) was a bargain.

At the end of the second song I said she had all my money and we went back to small talk.  I asked if it was her or someone pretending to be her who’d e-mailed me.  She said it was her.  We spent the next 20 minutes talking on the couch about this and that.  Like I said, smart smart girl.  And not in that Phil Stanford “she can speak four languages and put a bunch of sailors in their place” sort of way.  It’s more of a “don’t piss her off because someday we’ll all be working for her” vibe.  Hopefully when the revolution comes, she’ll be kind.

Our conversation quickly ended when she was called to the back stage.  Our newfound friendship gave me some extra benefits.  She kept making little comments to me as she passed by, but I could only make out the pronouns.  Beyond that, I just smiled and nodded.  And fed her singles.

As soon as her set ended, I headed back to the video poker.  I was having relatively good luck at the machines, picking up $30 or so which wasn’t too shabby.  I had no complaints.  I kept one eye on the action in case there was anyone else I wanted to check out.

There was one girl I’d talked about last time I was in there who was back.  Short.  Very cute.  Bubbly.  And blonde.  I saw she was on the side stage, so I made my way back.  She leaned down and asked my name.  I gave it to her and asked hers’.  “Misty,” she said.  Oh Misty.  She proceeded to put on a show for everyone at the rail.  She’s gorgeous.  All the way down to her toes.  Unlike last time, she was a little less shy about showing off her butt, which is one of her best assets.  Last time she kept it covered and made sure to pull down the back of her skirt lest it be exposed.  This time, though, it all came off.  As she stood in front of me and bounced her tits a little, she said she didn’t like doing that because it made her butt bounce.  I told her she had a great ass and she shouldn’t be bashful about it.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

From then on, I got a little extra.  A close-up of her breasts.  A little tap on my head.  Clearly I’d gotten her attention.  Later, at the mainstage, she came over and thanked me for the compliment then proceeded to crawl down the rail to give me an up close look at her ass.  *Swoon*  After Jewel, I cannot say enough good things about her.  And it’ll be because of her that I’ll be back again.  Soon.

My night wrapped up a little while later.  I’d been drinking ice water for a little while and it was starting to make me a little chilly.  Jewel was standing at the bar with another guy, looking at the menu.  I went over to thank her for the dance and the conversation.  And I recommended the fettuccini.  Can’t wait for my next visit.

Well, OK. I’m not in love, but I certainly had a great time and was separated from a few more dollars than I had intended. The evening was supposed to be about checking in with Jewel to see if indeed her skills on the couch had improved since I’d last experienced them. It ended with a freckled redhead kissing me on the neck after I complimented her breasts. Only in a strip club.

My last trip to the D2, as the kids call it, was for the Miss Nude Oregon pageant. You can read all about it here. I wanted to see how it was on a “regular” night. I pulled in around 8:30 to find the parking lot beginning to fill up. I paid my $5 cover and headed to the bar for my customary bottle of Coors Light and to load up on singles. $4.75 for a bottle of beer seems kind of steep, but if anyone can get away with that, it’s the Dolphin.

I sat down at a table to get my bearings and see if my girl Jewel was in. At first glance I couldn’t see her. The girl on stage, an Asian, was a nice distraction. She was younger and looked happy to be there. So important, I’m finding. If you’re not having fun on-stage, I’m probably not going to have a whole lot of fun on the rail.

It wasn’t long before the DJ called out Jewel’s name for the main stage. Oh goodie. She came out wearing an outfit not unlike something Marilyn Monroe would have worn back in the day. Like this here. Only barefoot. Was she going specifically for Marilyn? Probably not. But who am I to quibble?

As is her custom, she went right for the pole and proceeded to defy gravity. Spinning upside down, hair flying, arms outstretched. I don’t know about her couch skills, but I can tell you she’s been working on the pole. At one point, hanging upside down with her legs wrapped around the pole, one hand on the ground to steady herself, she reached up, undid her top and let it slide down. The clincher though came during the second song. Naked, she climbs the pole, which is probably 8′ high, swings her legs out to the rafter above and wraps her legs around it, lets go of the pole and just hangs there by her legs, back to the pole. She took a second to get her bearings, then swung back, flying from the rafter back on to the pole and spun all the way down. I’m telling you, it’s worth the cover and the expensive beer to watch that. It’s Olympic. Has she been working out? You can’t tell by looking at her. She’s still soft and curvy. And that smile. Remind me to have her over for Festivus.

I was bashful about sitting right down in front. Would she know it was me? And was I ready to chat about the blog? The answers are probably and no. I still want to keep some anonymity.

With Jewel gone, it was Candy’s turn. She’s a tall, thin drink of water with long hair and a nice body. Like Jewel, she worked the pole like a pro. At one point she got her hair caught in the bolts and such at the bottom of the pole. A fun little moment.

After she left the stage, I hit the head and went for another beer. As I stood at the bar, who should approach but Candy. She started to chat me up but with a speaker right above us, I couldn’t make out a word she said. I finally asked her to sit down with me away from the crowd. We sat in the back corner and talked all things stripper. She tells me she’s from Medford and dances at Le Dolls. Only it’s not Le Dolls anymore. It’s something else. She was up for a pole dancing competition the Dolphin is sponsoring. Apparently there was a qualifying round on Thursday night, but she decided not to compete. It’s a long story.

Sidenote: With apologies to Natalia, Jewel, IMHO, was robbed on the Miss Nude Oregon thing. And after watching her last night, I’m even more convinced of that. She has the hottest body, hands down, of any girl in there. And the smile and the hair. And the zero tattoos. She’s the complete package. That said, if she doesn’t win this pole competition, there’s something seriously wrong. I guess the finals are at the Dolphin 1 in a few weeks. That means she won’t be able to do the rafter trick, but everything else will be on display. She should win this thing walking away. End of discussion.

I told Candy she should enter the competition. She’s better than most everyone in the building, But she said she couldn’t afford to drive all the way up and not win. Besides there’s something going on down in Medford. Some star is coming to work and she needs to be there to pick-up the sloppy seconds.

As with all stripper conversations, ours ended with an invitation to go visit the couch. I was saving myself for Jewel and politely declined.

I made my way back to the rail in time for a set from Raquel. If Jewel is going to be my dancer crush, Raquel would be the girl I keep on the side. Tall. Red haired. And freckled. Oh God the freckles. I could have sat there and just looked at her lounging nude all night. Her body was taught and perfect. And she had some spunk, which is nice. Unlike a few of the girls I’d met earlier in the week, hers’ seemed genuine. Like she really wanted to know what it was I sold. And who knows, maybe she did. All I knew was I wanted to catalog every last mark on her body. Goodness.

It was somewhere in here the night went off the rails. Knowing I wouldn’t be stopping at just one couch dance, I hit the ATM for some ammunition. The DJ then announced we were celebrating a special occasion. A guy had just returned from Iraq and his buddies wanted to show him a good time. So they brought him up on stage bachelor-style and had one of the girls give him a show to Skynyrd. Normally I’m all for this, but the DJ couldnt let the song just play. He kept having to interject. Actually the whole night he played more the role of hype-man than DJ. Which is fine, I guess. The clientèle certainly enjoyed it. They were mostly an under-30 crowd who’s idea of a strip club was straight out of a Puff Daddy video. The Dolphin gives that experience in spades.

There was one other girl I wanted to check out before I got my dance with Jewel and went home. There was a youngish blonde with pale skin and a killer soft body that I wanted to see. She had that “what in the Hell are you doing in here” look that I go for. She finally ended up dancing on the side stage near the DJ booth. It took about thirty second to figure out what she was doing there. As she sauntered around on stage, you could see the tattoo working its way up her side and around her right breast. Yikes. Thats not my thing at all. But I wasn’t going to let that deter me from getting a good look at her. She looked sort of uncomfortable with all the single guys up there. The groups were all sitting at the main stage. The side stage was all degenerates. Myself included. Except I wasn’t the guy taking notes. Kids, THAT’S creepy. Right up there with trying to snap cell phone pictures while no one was looking.

She eventually got her panties off and peeled the dress down to expose her breasts. She wasn’t comfortable showing off her butt and several times pulled her dress down to cover it. This is a crime since that’s one of her best features. When Sir-Mix-A-Lot spoke of the LA face and the Oakland bootie, he was speaking of this girl. Man. Except the tattoo has got to go. At least no more, ok?

With all the silliness out of the way, it was time to go visit Jewel. She came back up in the main stage and went right back to her routine. A group of guys sitting opposite me couldn’t help but applaud and throw money “making it rain-style”. And as much as she wanted to give me attention (I have a feeling she put two-and-two together immediately and knew it was me), she couldn’t ignore the guys waving all the cash. And who can blame her. She’s there to make money, not get critiqued. At the end of her set, she gathered up her cash and quickly went back to the couches. Time was a wastin’.

Dang. I’d struck out. With a stripper, no less! How does that happen?

So I went to the bar to grab a glass of water and reload on singles. I was determined to wait the fellas out and get my private time with my girl. No sooner had I sat down than Roxy came and joined me. She’s a cute brunette with an easy smile. We chatted a little bit. The place had nearly completely filled up and I asked her if it was always this busy. She said it was. We compared notes on the Dolphin 1.

“It’s in a weird location” she said.

I told her about the buffet and the old days. She seemed interested, but we both knew why she was there. And she eventually got around to asking.

“I’m a little drunk and want to give you a couch dance.”

‘Nuff said. I asked her if she thought she gave better dances while drunk. She replied she did everything better while drunk.

“Except drive.”

I might be a cop. You never know.

So we went back to the back, hand in hand.

I’ve had probably hundreds of couch dances over the years. Some good. Some great. Some terrible. The Roxy experience is definitely in my top-5 of all-time. She’s always a surprise because I never remember to put her and her couch skills together. There’s a disconnect. As soon as she went to work though, I remembered I’d traveled this path with her a few times before. Her style is all about contact. She puts her body right across yours and never loses that contact. She stroked my face and neck with her hand while she moaned into my ear. And slowly worked down my face and neck, taking nibbles along the way. Yeah. She had my attention.

She worked around to my face and nose and lips. And gave me a good look at her still-covered breasts. Oh God. When the song ended, I didn’t have a choice but to go around again. She knows what gets guys going and gives it to them 110%. Any girl who wants to improve their game should spend some time on the couch with Roxy. I guarantee your customers will beg for more.

I managed to peel myself away from Roxy after two songs although I could have gone on with her all night. Working my way back to the main room, I saw Raquel was on the side stage and had to get another look. We picked right back up where we left off. She, trying to figure out who I was, I trying to figure out how to get her to slow down and let me drink in every inch of her. I’d forgotten how much I dig freckles.

After her set ended, I got up to leave but she chased me down, practically demanding I get a table dance from her. I was hoping this would involve her being inches away from my face, naked. But no such luck. It was a couch dance. She promised me the ride of my life. After the E-ticket that is Roxy, that would be difficult to pull off. We talked a little more about my pseudo-career and where we lived as we waited for the next song to begin. Eventually she whispered she was going to shut-up and went to work.

Raquel’s style is a little…firmer. And thats not a bad thing at all. As I said before, she’s taught and obviously works to keep herself in shape. I was distracted because my car keys kept jabbing at the both of us as she thrust herself into me. She didn’t seem to mind, and as she nibbled on my neck, neither did I. She let her hair fall across my head and caressed my face while she gave me a good look at her breasts.

Our time was up way too quickly. My Jewel fund was spent and I just sat there spent. I let her know her freckles drove me insane and her breasts were phenomenal. You would have thought I’d just asked her to the high school dance. She quickly kissed my neck and thanked me. Genuine? Who knows. I guess I’m not paying her to be genuine. I’m paying her to entertain. And that she did.

I wasn’t planning to go back to the Dolphin anytime soon. There remain way too many other places to check out. But there are way too many loose ends at the Dolphin. Will Jewel win the pole dancing competition? Have her couch skills improved since we last encountered one another? What would it be like to be the filling in a Roxy/Jewel couch sandwich? And most importantly, does Raquel like me for me or for my wallet? I guess we’ll find out next time on “As The Dolphin Turns”.