After just having moved to Austin, Texas to begin college at the University of Texas, I spent the first summer of my time away from home in a provisional program. It was essentially a summer program for those who were on the cusp of admittance, but still needed to prove to the university that the individual was not entirely without merit and should indeed be admitted. Basically, my high school grades were good, but not quite good enough to just get me into this huge public university. So I attended. Fortunately I fooled the school. In the rather typical fashion I tended to treat college until I eventually pursued something I really enjoyed, I did just enough to get by. This is an irrelevant detail to the story of The Stingray other than the fact that I wound up starting college about three months before the majority of my friends and peers did and as a consequence, had to fill my time with the few friends I had there. Perhaps also worth noting is that until Austin, Texas became a significant city on the US stage, most of the city was shut down over the summer time as the reduced student population just didn't create the same demand for entertainment. So the opportunities of finding activities in the evening were much more limited than they would eventually become in Austin.
I had been assigned a random dorm roommate named Geoff Smith. Like me, he was from Houston, albeit not particularly close to where I grew up. I also acquired a pseudo-roommate who I had attended high school with named Donlee Cone Smith. Despite the shared last name, there was no relation between them. If you met the two of them, that would be immediately obvious. Whereas Donelee was an athletic, socially normal, country-raised kind of guy, Geoff was a tall, lanky, quirky, socially awkward person. He was very friendly, but ever so different from both Donlee and myself.
Donlee had been placed in single-bedroom, sparsely-populated dorm. Needless to say he was often very bored and used to stay over at our place a lot, hence the pseudo-roommate. He would d hang out with me for most of the day, attend shared classes (when we did), and then often sleep on our floor. And although this was back in the day of Intel 486 chips and just barely Pentium branded processors, I had a pretty solid rig that my dad had bought for me for college. So I think Donlee appreciated the ability to not only have people to hang out with, but also a way to play computer games too. Incidentally, our respective girlfriends were good friends and both were still living in Houston.
Although I'd been to a strip club in Houston with my friends Daniel Putt and Roger Graham before (infamously known as the PPP), this was the first strip club that I had opted to venture out to in Austin - though it would not be the last. The strip clubs made a habit of littering the cars and door knobs around campus with coupons for their respective clubs. All of the college material we were given upon arrival to school had equivalent coupons and ads in them too. Who knew that college kids were such big patrons of strip clubs? Geoff had never been to a strip club before and so of course Donlee and I were delighted in giving him that first experience.
As we walked inside of the club, our first bit of awkwardness was using a coupon. Yes, you can actually use coupons at strip clubs, but it surely has a stigma attached to it. So with our discounted entry fee, we we're already feeling pretty lost. The PPP of Houston was been a pretty small club. It was notorious for hiring pretty unattractive dancers, often ones who were older or even pregnant (not that there is anything wrong with that, but it's not exactly what one tends to think of when imagining a strip club). By stark contrast, The Show Palace in Austin was a huge venue with three different stages and surprisingly very attractive dancers. Like the PPP, it was also an all-nude club. After a minute or two of exploring the place, we awkwardly found a little area around one of the side stages. We proceeded to sit down and watch the various shows going on all around us. At this time in Texas' history, it was extremely easy to get into a club with even the worst of fake IDs. That all changed around the year 2000, but this was still the late 90s. The club itself only required you to be 18 years old to enter, but you also couldn't drink if you were under 21.
The Show Palace was the kind of strip club that advertised BYOB. This just means that you could bring your own beer and alcohol into the club and then pay for mixers (like coke, sprite, lime juice, etc.) They weren't entirely uncommon and typically had the distinction of being all nude clubs. The ones that sold liquor tended just to be topless clubs. I was told it had something to do with insurance, but who really knows?
Though none of us had fake IDs, it didn't take long before some older lonely patron starting chatting us up. He was probably in his 30s, but when you're just 18 years old, that seems pretty ancient.
In any event, he invited us over to his area and offered all of us some drinks. Geoff didn't drink, but Donlee and I were more than happy to partake. Naturally we wound up talking with this guy for awhile. As we were all getting along, he eventually asked if we wanted one of the girls to give us a private dance. Before we could really even answer him, he had his hand in the air and called upon one of the girls he knew by name to come over. He paid her the requisite $20 and asked her to "give these young men a good show". He told us that her name was Stingray.
As strippers often do, she started talking to us about her life, her boyfriend, how long she's been working, and other mundane and trivial details like that. It's always a little weird when a woman who has just been paid $20 to dance naked in front of you starts sharing her life story, but again, at 18 years old it seems like you should just listen. And so we did. At some point, we asked her why she was called Stingray. She didn't immediately answer, but it obviously piqued some idea in her mind.
She wasn't giving any of us a traditional lap dance, but rather just using one of the cocktail tables and a chair to dance privately for the three of us while this older gentleman just looked on. A short while later, she started telling us the kinds of sexual activities that she was into. Namely things to do with pain, submission, etc. She started telling us how she loved using candle wax as part of her sexual experiences with her boyfriend. She asked us if we wanted to see it and so of course we eagerly nodded approval. She proceeded to put one of her legs up on the cocktail table, the other planted firmly on the ground. Her legs were open rather wide at this point as she grabbed one of the candle jars from the table top next to her. It was lit and had a fair bit of melted wax sloshing around the top of the jar. She proceeded to lean back slightly, using her left hand to balance on the chair while her right hand handled the candle jar. She ever so gently started pouring the candle wax all over her lady parts, either genuinely or pretending to moan in a kind of orgasmic ecstasy as she did this.
Naturally this was well beyond any expectations that we had.
If you're familiar with the female anatomy then it may have already jumped out at you, but if not, I'll finish the story.
After another short while, the wax had stopped dripping and began to firm. She set the candle jar back on the table and carefully proceeded to remove the now hardened wax from her body. It came out perfectly in tact, a small drip even remained attached to the bulk of it. It had formed from drip running down her bare leg. She proceeded to set this wax mold on my knee, looked at us, and said: "that's why they call me Stingray".
If I hadn't seen it myself then I wouldn't have believed it were possible. But there on my 18 year old knee was a perfect mold of this stripper's vagina, complete with that tail from the wax that had dripped down her leg. And sure as she said it, it looked exactly like a Stingray. Perhaps more of a manta ray if you want to get really technical with it, but when you're 18 years old, are a bit out of your element, and strippers are making wax molds of their female parts specifically for you, it's just not the right time to get technical. So Stingray it was.
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