Stripper Boy!

First, let me apologize for not posting in so long! I can't believe I have let almost all of September pass without another post. But, since I have made you wait so long for an update, I will put my best story out there and tell you about Stripper Boy.

I originally met Stripper Boy at a training class we had together in December, 2001 in Atlanta. It was a week long class, and we hung out a little bit. We talked enough that I knew he was engaged, and therefore, off limits in my book. Skip ahead to July, 2002 and my first trip to Chicago with my job--also my first experience with Love Spell. I had just recently been promoted to the position I hold now, and I had to go to a bunch of training immediately after taking the job. This trip was for two one-week classes, back to back, so I stayed over the weekend between the two. Yes, that becomes important to know later in the story.

Anyways, I get to class and sitting behind me is Mike--he hadn't earned the nickname Stripper Boy yet. Since this was my first trip to Chicago, I was so happy to see a familiar face. A group of us hung out all week, going to lunch together and such. The evening before the last day of class, Mike decided to become the "party-planner" of the class and arranged for a large group of us to go out to a club together. We partied hard all night and into the wee hours of the morning, so much so that we ended up going to class the next day still drunk. Was this a smart thing to do, no. But, some of our instructors were with us that evening, so they weren't feeling so hot themselves on that last day.

Mike and I were cracking the next morning, shocked that we were still as drunk as we were. As the day passed, the inevitable happened, and soberness started setting in. I have never been one to have a hangover, thank goodness, so I was fine as I sobered up. Mike on the other hand did not sober up so well. By lunch time, he was green in the face and he was having to run to the bathroom every few minutes.

Since this was the last day of class, Mike was headed home that evening, but his flight wasn't until 8:00 or 9:00 pm. He had checked out of his room that morning, so he had no place to go to try to recover. Here is where me staying the weekend becomes important. I still had my room. Being the sweet, naive person that I was, I offered to let him come crash at my place for a couple of hours before he had to head to the airport. I had a huge place, more of an apartment than a hotel room, with a full kitchen and living room, and two separate bedrooms. You would have thought I had just offered to give him a million dollars! He immediately accepted and even talked the instructor into letting us cut out of class early.

My hotel was only a little over a mile away, and he was too sick to get in a shuttle bus, so we walked it. I guess the fresh air and exercise sobered him up, because he was feeling more than okay by the time we got to my room.

I let us in and showed him to his room and sat down in the living room to watch some television. He came out and asked it if was okay if he slept in his boxers. I told him it was no problem--he had his own room, so I didn't really care what he did. With that he told me that he really slept better when he was completely naked. And then he proceeded to take off his clothes. It was at that moment that he was cursed with the name Stripper Boy for the rest of his days. Now, this was a bit shocking to me, as I am sure you would guess. I just sat there, dumbfounded, wondering to myself, "What is he doing???"

It didn't take long to figure that one out. He went to his room, but he sucked me into coming in there by asking for a glass of water. Now, for those of you who know me, you know I strive to be the perfect hostess, so I of course obliged. And that was when things started getting interesting. As though having a naked man standing in my hotel room wasn't interesting. But, I digress.

He began to beg for sex. I am not talking just trying to coax me into having sex. I am talking "Please, oh please!" I couldn't help but laugh, because I kept thinking these things don't happen to real people, especially not me. I turned him down, pointing out that I was sure his fiancee wouldn't approve. He kept begging, telling me that he just wanted one last fling before he tied the knot. And I kept telling him no, it wasn't going to happen.

If a guy can't get sex, what is the next best thing? A blow-job! He finally accepted that he wasn't going to get sex, so he downgraded to just wanting a blow job. Still a big fat no from me. I actually did feel for the guy. To put it nicely, you could see that he was very frustrated. Not enough to give in though. "What about just one little kiss?" Nope.

We talked for a little while then, and I thought he had given up. I was wrong--he just needed time to think up his next proposition. This quote stands out as one of my all time favorites: "How about, you show me yours, I'll show you mine?" I am not kidding, he actually tried that line. I had no choice but to bust up laughing and replied to him, "What good will that do me? I can already see yours!" If I hadn't decided the guy was pathetic before that point, then at that moment I did. I still kept thinking to myself, this can't be happening! This really doesn't happen to real people--only in the movies!

By this time, he had not got any sleep, and there was only about an hour before he needed to head to the airport. He asked is he could take a shower. Again, being the perfect little hostess, I said yes. "Join me?" I told him to get his ass in there and shower and to give it up already.

I had been swimming all week during the evenings, so my bathing suits were hanging in the bathroom to dry. I went in and got them out, gave him some towels, and left him to his shower. He left the door open, pointing out that the offer stood, just in case I changed my mind.

Now comes the most pathetic part of the evening. He got out of the shower, thankfully with a towel around him, and come into my bedroom and got my bikini. He then pleaded with me, " Will you at least put on your bathing suit for me? If I can't see you naked, can't I at least see you in your bikini?" Of course, I said no.

I do feel kind of bad for the guy. He really tried hard, and all he got out of his efforts was a hug before he left on the shuttle to the airport. Was the whole evening a loss for me? No, I had a blast. I have a great memory from that trip; a story that has been told many, many times now. One that had led to other interesting stories, but I will get to those later. Oh, and one thing I have failed to mention: Stripper Boy is an absolute hottie. I would be lying if I tried to say I didn't enjoy the show. :) Hottie or not though, he was taken, and I behaved myself.