Tattoo Boy and The Milkman: Saturday after drill with Det. 2, Co. D, 109th Aviation, Lincoln, NE.
I think this was the outing that Ben and I remember best, because we reviewed the story every time we saw each other for a year after it happened.
After a typical Saturday drill, several of the clan decided it would be a good day to start out at the Royal Grove, just a few short miles from the base. I know Ben and I were there along with Terry Read, and Shaun Busskohl. Other than that my memory of who attended is foggy.
We took our normal positions in the drool trough so we would have a great view of the exotic dancers as they performed their little teases on stage. After enjoying the first few performers, one gal with a very nice post-pregnancy rack got down next to Ben while she was fondling herself. She told Ben to open his mouth. Naturally, when a stripper tells you to do something, you just naturally do it, no questions asked. Even if its some obscure demand like, "Stand on your head, stack b-bs, and gargle peanut butter." So Ben opened his mouth. Like a highly skilled marksman, the stripper shot a stream of milk from her breast, right onto Ben's tonguef It was the coolest thing we ever sawf It was so cool, we did one of those massive group head jerks to look at each other with that 'did you see that shit?' look on our collective faces. So I asked for some, and she shot me in the eyef We were just dying over how cool it was, and we told the story to everybody we saw for the rest of the night and the following day. The detachment commander, Captain Person, asked Ben the next day, "Got Milk?" Shortly after that, the entire Army National Guard was forever banned from going to the Royal Grove in BDUs.
We enjoyed that trip to the Grove so much, that we went again the following drill. We didn't see the same set of strippers, but one we hadn't seen before had a tattoo that I couldn't help commenting on. The one piece of clothing she was wearing was a tiger striped thong, but the waist band was wide enough to cover up the bottom of a tiger tattoo that was obviously finished at the bottom by a very happy tattoo artist.
I told her that I had some tattoos also, and that I'd gladly show her mine, if she'd show me hers. She was a stripper, so she didn't get smart and tell me I could see most of it already, she simply asked me where my tattoos were. I lied and told her I had a $ sign on the head of my unit. I didn't really, but I had to come up with something worth seeing in trade. I couldn't just show her the ones on my shoulders and chest, and I was hoping that once we disrobed to sport our art that something else might happen.
I borrowed a ball-point pen from Terry Read, walked to the bathroom, and proceeded to draw a neat sign exactly where I told the stripper it was. On her next break she came to me with that 'bring it on' look, so I got up and followed her to a private place behind the stages that I never knew existed before.
She had additional clothing on during her break, but it just added to the erotic moment because the clothing hid nothing. She said, "You first," so I pulled my pants down and stuck the already-swollen head out the fly of my boxers. It wasn't a well lit room, so she got on her knees to examine it more closely. She claimed that it looked fresh and that it must have hurt like hell. I said it did, and I was only stretching the truth a little, because drawing on the head of your dick with a ball-point pen isn't the most comfortable experience in the world.
Then I told her it was her turn to show me. "First, I want to kiss it and make it feel better". Who was I to argue with a stripper? She wrapped her lips around it and started sliding her mouth back and forth on my schwancef She was so damn good, I didn't think I was going to last very long. She practically read my mind. She got up and pulled off her thong. She then bent over a table and spread her legs and told me to come over and inspect her tattoo as closely as I wanted.
I don't think I even looked at her artwork. I got up behind her and went right to work. This got no argument from her, so I humped the hell out of her for about four minutes, pulled out and nutted all over her back. Some of it must have hit her tiger in the eye. That was payback for the stripper who shot me with her milk. I'm certain that she didn't notice that my tattoo had somehow vanished.
All right, the part about getting laid isn't true, but Ben always wants my stories to end that way, so I fabricated an ending that would give him 'wood'. Ben, I hope it made for a better story.
If you like Penus A Lotta"
Derek Whisenhunt