[ Outline ] · Standard · Linear+ Natalie The Wannabe Stripper!, the 411!

[natalie]

Hey everybody! Right off the bat I know everybody says it but this site is cool! I've enjoyed meeting people here. You guys are nice, supportive of the naked arts and totally not uptight. I've joined this site with my husband(numba1fan) who is also my photographer and I must say is really good at that and other things! We are both 26 and fairly open-minded. We live in Edmonton but my heart is in B.C. where we both are from originally. We have two kids, a boy and a girl who are responsible for my knockers. I like going to the strippers with my husband and have brought a few girls there for their first time. I collect the posters and magnets. I don't care what some people say, those girls are talented! That's why I put wannabe stripper. Gallery is one of my favourite magazines and I hope to be in it one day in the girl-next-door pages. Not much more to say other than cheers as I raise my glass of beer to you all!

[natalie]

I just got sent this today. lol
Dear Connie,
>
>
>
> I know the counselor said we shouldn't contact each other
during
>our
>"cooling off" period, but I couldn't wait anymore. The day you left, I
>swore
>I'd never talk to you again. But that was just the wounded little boy
in me
>talking. Still, I never wanted to be the first one to make contact. In
my
>fantasies, it was always you who would come crawling back to me. I
guess my
>pride needed that. But now I see that my pride's cost me a lot of
things.
>I'
>m tired of pretending I don't miss you. I don't care about looking bad
>anymore. I don't care who makes the first move as long as one of us
does.
>
>
>
> Maybe it's time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our
hurt. And
>this is what my heart says: "There's no one like you, Connie." I look
for
>you in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but they're not you.
>They'
>re not even close.
>
>
>
> Two weeks ago, I met this girl at Flamingos and brought her
home
>with me. I don't say this to hurt you, but just to illustrate the
depth of
>my desperation. She was young, maybe 19; with one of those perfect
bodies
>that only youth and maybe a childhood spent ice skating can give you.
I
>mean, just a perfect body. Tits like you wouldn't believe and an ass
that
>just wouldn't quit. Every man's dream, right? But as I sat on the
couch
>being blown by this stunner, I thought, look at the stuff we've made
>important in our lives. It's all so superficial. What does a perfect
body
>mean? Does it make her better in bed?
>
>
>
> Well, in this case, yes, but you see what I'm getting at.
Does it
>make her a better person? Does she have a better heart than my
moderately
>attractive Connie? I doubt it. And I'd never really thought of that
before.
>
>
>
> I don't know, maybe I'm just growing up a little. Later,
after I'd
>tossed her about a half a pint of throat yogurt, I found myself
thinking,
>"Why do I feel so drained and empty?" It wasn't just her flawless
technique
>or her slutty, shameless hunger, but something else. Some nagging
feeling
>of
>loss. Why did it feel so incomplete? And then it hit me. It didn't
feel the
>same because you weren't there to watch.
>
>
>
> Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you.
>Jesus,
>Connie, I'm just going crazy without you. And everything I do just
reminds
>me of you.
>
>
>
> Do you remember Carol, that single mom we met at the Holiday
Inn
>lounge last year? Well, she dropped by last week with a pan of
lasagna. She
>said she figured I wasn't eating right without a woman around. I
didn't
>know
>what she meant till later, but that's not the real story.
>
>
>
> Anyway, we had a few glasses of wine and the next thing you
know,
>we
>'re banging away in our old bedroom. And this tart's a total monster
in the
>sack. She's giving me everything, you know, like a real woman does
when
>she'
>s not hung up about her weight or her career and whether the kids can
hear
>us. And all of a sudden, she spots that tilting mirror on your
>grandmother's
>old vanity. So she puts it on the floor and we straddle it, right, so
we
>can
>watch ourselves. And it's totally hot, but it makes me sad, too. Cause
I
>can
>'t help thinking, "Why didn't Connie ever put the mirror on the floor?
>We've
>had this old vanity for what, 14 years, and we never used it as a sex
toy."
>
>
>
> Saturday, your sister drops by with my copy of the
restraining
>order. I mean, Vicky's just a kid and all, but she's got a pretty good
head
>on her shoulders and she's been a real friend to me during this
painful
>time. She's given me lots of good advice about you and about women in
>general. She's pulling for us to get back together, Connie, she really
is.
>So we're doing Jell-O shots in a hot bubble bath and talking about
happier
>times. Here's this teenage girl with the same DNA as you and all I can
do
>is
>think of how much she looked like you when you were 18.And that just
about
>makes me cry. And then it turns out Vicky's really into the whole anal
>thing, that gets me to thinking about how many times I pressured you
about
>trying it and how that probably fueled some of the bitterness between
us.
>But do you see how even then, when I'm thrusting inside your baby
sister's
>cinnamon ring, all I can do is think of you?
>
>
>
> It's true, Connie. In your heart you must know it. Don't you
think
>we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances away and start
fresh?
>
>
>
> I think we can.
>
>
>
> If you feel the same please, please, please let me know.
>
>
>
> Otherwise, can you let me know where the fucking remote is?
>
>
>
> Love,
>
>
>
> Dan