The Funny Thing About Fantasies

Originally Posted 16 August 2012

 

In my life it would seem that I am considered a “jack of all trades” where I know just about enough about certain things to be dangerous. How does the saying go? Jack of all trades and master of none or something to that extent. My knowledge, mostly, has come from necessity rather than want. As a man, a father, a husband, a home owner, an employee, and even as a friend, I find myself doing things a skilled, trained, licensed, or certified person would be doing. There is one exception, and that is that I am cheap. As I mentioned, when it comes to maintenance, repairs, or installations I know just enough to be dangerous. I may not be the best, but I always try to do my best. Perhaps that is my actual down fall, free or not, I care.

 

It doesn’t help that my boss knows what I am capable of either. For that matter, either one of my bosses because I have done remodeling, maintenance, repairs, and installations at both of my places of employment. It is always a nice interruption to the daily grind I suppose. Since first thing Monday morning I have been impersonating a plumber at my day job. The quotes for the work needing to be done ranged from $3500.00 all the way to $5900.00 so that was going to happen. Then, my boss got the brainchild of an idea that I would be a great candidate to do the work. I did, however, go reluctantly and I was reminded that the tasks at hand clearly fell under the description of “other duties” which of course don’t actually have a definition. So be it because it gets me the hell out of the office and warehouse for a few days. The project, in reality, was very simple, tapping into an existing water line and make two new connections in two separate locations from the exterior of the same building. After 3 days and one morning I was done. And if I don’t say myself, it looks pretty damn good. Nobody will ever be able to tell it was a complete amateur job. But, that is not what this story is actually about. I felt the need to prime the story with a little background so the second part could actually make some realm of sense. All week long we have been in the high 90’s with 80% or better in humidity. In plain English, it was so hot I could cook stuff in my shorts. Needless to say, when the day was done, I smelled like a farm animal because of being out in the sun and heat all day. Did wonders for my tan since I had 3 days going topless.

 

Monday being the first day of my plumbing experience had given me a funk so bad that I had a hard time being where I was because I was trying to figure out what that smell was. It was me, plain and simple. When I arrived at the club I figured I could splash on a little cologne and I would be okay. Nope, it had zero effect on the pungency. A few of the dancers got very offended by my funk and asked if I could go home and fix it. Fix it? That’s funny. Plus, I was not diving the 45 minutes each way, it wasn’t happening. Then my boss came up to me and said to follow her. So I did. She had asked if I had a change of clothes and if so to get them and meet her in her office. So I did, I got them and returned to her office. I then followed her into the dancer’s locker room. A rather large area, but can accommodate about 175 people at once at any given time. Which is good because we have 350 or more dancers and female employees at the club at any given time. She made an announcement to everyone in the locker room that there was a male employee present. Nobody even batted an eye. Then my boss left, but not before instructing me to shower, get dressed, and get to work. I am thinking to myself at this point that I am in a place where many men would kill to be. Granted, I see everyone one of these dancers naked at least 3 times a night already, but for some reason it was different in a private group setting. I spotted a dancer I know real good, I would even consider her to be my friend. I walked over to her and asked if she had soap, shampoo, and a towel she wouldn’t mind me using. She graciously accommodated my requests and handed me everything with a huge smile, a bit sinister if you ask me.

 

I parked my butt on the bench in front of the showers to get undressed. Its a big shower, can accommodate 35 people each with a shower head to themselves. There were a few dancers in the shower already, in various stages of their own shower, some washing, some rinsing their hair, and the dancer directly in front of me, a mere 4 feet away, was shaving herself bare. I found myself undressing real slow, keeping an eye on my surroundings. Others would walk by, tell me hi, see if I need anything or any help. I even got a high five from one I barely even knew and she stated that “now its a party up in dis bitch”. Really? Was my presence going to make it a party? If I were a single man under some different conditions, then perhaps, but not today. I was good with being a literal peeping tom, which when it is all boiled down, is what I was. Nobody seemed to mind, nobody seemed to actually care if I was there, but I can’t help but think to myself that the dancers in the shower were putting on a bit of a show. How? There seemed to be an awful lot of them facing away from me while bending over with straight legs, spending a long time washing themselves knowing I was watching them. Little things, probably just my overactive imagination. Oh yea, finish getting undressed and get in the shower.

 

Completely naked I joined 13 dancers already there. I heard “don’t be shy come down here by us” and similar things. So, I did. Right smack in the middle of 13 completely naked dancers showering with me. By this point I had put my mind in another place and another time so I could just focus on getting clean and staying out of harms way. It was the longest 20 minute shower I think I have ever had! I stepped out of the shower, dried off, and returned to the bench. I couldn’t help feeling as if I had eyes on me, maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part. What made it worse was one of the dancers who seems like she is always doing a private show just for me on my bar sits next to me, she is still naked and wet and started talking with me as I was getting dressed. She told me she had memories now, not her imagination, which she will use to make her extra wet the next time she is dancing on my bar. I thought to myself, am I flattered or afraid. In the end, I am a little of both.

 

I left that locker room a “new” person. Although nothing sexual happened I was left with a very satisfied feeling. I know the story is probably a bit disappointing to most, especially those thinking I was leading into some kind of a shower orgy with strippers story. Sorry, it happened the way it happened. I value too many things to toss it out the window for a little action on the side. After getting off work, I went home, showered again, and got into bed with my wife, where I held her hand for the remainder of the night, it was nice. After some reflection, my wife and I discussed my shower at work. I know other people, some I am related to, that would have kept the whole thing a secret from their spouse. But, that is not how we operate. Since then, being at the club is different. I have dancers screwing with me now, some have the impression I don’t like girls. It doesn’t really matter what they think or say, I know where I stand. I think I got to fulfill a portion of a fantasy that many men would have loved to be in the middle of. I good with the way this has all worked out. Some have said that I missed out on an opportunity of a lifetime and it will never be something that I will ever have a chance at ever again. Maybe so, maybe not. I am left with an intact marriage and a wife who trusts me in life as well as to bartend in a club which features full nude dancers. I think I have the good end of that deal.