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Part Two: What REALLY Happens in a Strip Club

Part Two: What REALLY Happens in a Strip Club

Have you ever wondered what it’s like to be in the secret world of a men’s strip club? These days it’s pretty common for women to go with their partners to see strippers (usually after quite a LOT of drinks and a bit of bravado) and some of these women are just as happy to get a lap dance from a beautiful, curvy naked woman as the men are. But…they are probably in the minority with most women never having been, probably never want to go But equally they may remain rather curious about the whole thing.

This story is for you because I got the chance a few years ago. It kind of ended in tears.

I wrote earlier here about my issue with my partner going to the strippers and how much anxiety it caused. I wondered if part of this was my imagination getting the better of me thinking that the girls pretty much dragged the guys behind the curtains and full sex scenes raged on. You know, all hush-hush, never to be spoken of aloud. Guy code.

We were staying in the city for our anniversary, had dinner, went to a bar, had a LOT to drink and the idea came to me: Let’s go to the Men’s Gallery a well-known strip club in Melbourne. At the time, one of the upper market clubs. My husband was initially reluctant at the idea but given he’d downed quite a bit of bourbon I managed to talk him into it; we hopped in a taxi and off we went.

I wasn’t even sure they would let me in, especially because it was called the MEN’S Gallery but apart from a sideways glance no questions were asked and in we went.

Inside I found a well-lit entrance with a winding staircase leading off to the right, and on the ground floor plenty of bars, tables, couches and stools where men were casually perched mostly in groups while a ton of stunning, barely dressed ladies wandered around smiling and chatting to the guys.

I was absolutely amazed at just how beautiful most of them were. I needed to go to the ladies and discovered that the facility also doubled as their dressing room and got a few looks of surprise when I entered (half of them were busy changing into new costumes or applying makeup) but they were super friendly and happy to chat to me. Not one of them appeared uneasy that a woman had invaded the territory and one of them even told me I was beautiful and should consider doing it for a living, I’d make a killing. I just laughed and went back to find my husband.

We settled into some seats and watched girl after girl come onto the stage and do their thing. Some of them looked like they were really enjoying themselves and others appeared bored, unhappy and looked like they were off their heads on drugs with next to no actual dancing skills.

With only the bravery too many drinks brings I stood up, went straight up to one of the prettiest girls in the place and said will you give me and my husband a lap dance? She gave me a huge smile, said of course, grabbed me by the hand and led us to a couch behind a screen where I believe fifty bucks changed hands and then she slowly removed every inch of her clothes which was intensely intimate. I was mesmerised and my hands with a mind of their own reached out automatically to touch her but she quickly backed away. I couldn’t even believe I’d done that but I literally couldn’t help myself. Then she relaxed, moved towards me again, grabbed my hands and ran them up and down her body. I couldn’t believe how soft she was! Did this mean I was bisexual LOL?

When it was over we got up and my husband said he needed to go to the toilet so I stood nearby waiting for him, drink in my hand when this massive, hairy biker strode straight up to me, put one hand on the back of my head and the other hand under my chin and shoved his tongue in my mouth in a “fuck-you-you-don’t-belong-here” display of aggression. I was instantly enraged and threw my drink in his face. He laughed, turned his back on me and walked up the staircase. With fury pulsing through every inch of my being, I followed him.
I got to the top of the staircase, spotted him and like an absolute lunatic whose brain was temporarily bypassed by an alter ego smashed my wineglass on top of his head. I heard a woman shriek and then the next thing I knew, a bouncer had me by the elbow and was leading me down the staircase, saying I think you better get out of here. Holy shit.

My husband was standing there looking up at his wife coming down the staircase, holding just the stem of her smashed glass whilst held by a bouncer with a what the fuck just happened look on his face. I said we have to go. Now. And we need to run before his mates come find us. Without asking any questions, he knew I wasn’t kidding and so that’s what we did. We ran down the street as fast as we could without looking back before we finally caught a taxi back to our hotel.

The next morning we were lying in bed and I could not BELIEVE what I had done. I could have been arrested. I could have been half beaten to death by him and his mates or any one of another dozen scenarios. My husband found the pen on the night stand and wrote this on my bare back: “I am a crazy ass bitch, mess with me and I will fuck you up”.

So that was my first experience in a strip club. The good, the bad and the ugly. Did it make me feel better about the existence of strip clubs and the very real possibility that one day my husband may find himself in another one when his mates drag him there without me? Not really. That girl was SERIOUSLY hot.

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