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There is an old saying: “You never forget your first time.” I found this to be true in strip clubs too.

I can't speak for everyone, but I was very naïve when I first started going to the strip clubs. For one, I started going pretty late in life – waiting until my mid-life crisis kicked into full gear. My only experience was as a 30-something when I attended a very subdued bachelor party for my brother. While we went to an all-nude club and enjoyed the eye-candy, the only lap dance was for my brother up on the stage in full view of everyone. We joked later about being a bunch of boring married guys because we were all back with our spouses by 9PM and after a couple of beers we were in bed by 10. This was a first, but not really my first time.

I'm still not entirely sure what got me started, but one year, my wife started taking cruises with her lady-friends. Each year I would wave goodbye and be just a bit envious because I was stuck home taking care of the kids and working non-stop. I lamented about this to my boss one day and he joked that we should take advantage of her absence and hit the strip club. I laughed, but I think a light-switch flipped in my head. It was left permanently on when I joked about it with my wife who replied, “I think you should, it would be great team-building”. Was she kidding? I just got permission to go to a strip club.

It sounded like it might be fun so I made plans to have a bit of a bachelor weekend – at least as much as you can with kids at home. Fortunately most are teenagers so they don't need attention every minute of the day. I was looking forward to a little stupid fun, but unfortunately, just before my wife's trip, the boss and another co-worker backed out on me. At that point I wasn't sure I wanted to go to such a shady place by myself.

But my curiosity and excitement got the better of me. On the appointed day, I headed over. I really just picked the only strip club I even knew existed as it was fairly close to work. After work, I first went to get some dinner – at Hooters if I recall - just to make the pseudo-bachelor weekend complete. I remember being a bit disappointed with Hooters. The girls weren't so hot or even that attentive. After a couple of beers, they made the strip club seem all the more appealing.

I was still pretty naïve about strip clubs too. Most are in a less than desirable part of town and plenty of stories abound about muggings, shootings, and other nefarious behavior in the clubs and parking lots had me very nervous. But the beer helped and I was determined not to look like a total dork. In hindsight, I don't think there was much I could do to help that. I parked in the back of the parking lot – being careful not to make the car too obvious lest someone recognize the vehicle, but not so secluded that I put myself in danger. The walk across the parking lot was intense. Here I was going into a place that I never imagined I would visit on my own. My face burned with a mixture of excitement, embarrassment, and fear. I had no idea what to expect. I just wanted to see some boobies.

With great relief I slipped inside the door. The bouncer collecting money was actually pretty nice. He must have sensed I was an amateur. He explained the cover charge and their brand of rules. This was an all-nude club so I needed to give $5 to the dancer to get her naked. I was more than happy to do this – at least for most of the girls. Being a little older, I'm not nearly as picky as I once was. As long as they weren't “gross”, I was game. It was nice and I was asked for a lap dance several times. I was clueless and my only reference was a bachelor party from years earlier. It seemed stupid to pay for money to sit on my hands and watch some girl dance in front of me when I could do that much more cheaply in front of the stage. Going by myself was a first, but this was not my first time.

It was a while before I went again. It was probably six months later and I found myself with time on my hands and a little extra money together – always a dangerous combination. Since I had never experienced a lap dance, I thought maybe it was finally time. I hoped it would be fun – after all, why else would guys do this. I went back to the same club since it was convenient. Amazingly, I remembered the girl who hit on me first – because she had done so the previous visit. She wasn't the most attractive girl and very boring to talk to. I traded small-talk with her for a while when she must have realized my inexperience and gave up. I figured if I was going to shell out money for a lap-dance, I wanted one with the best looking girl in the place. I wasn't disappointed. A very young and perky girl approached me. I was at least smart enough to have recognized by now that sitting on the rail and passing money to girls constantly was a losing proposition. I paid my $5 to get the girl naked and enjoyed the show. This is when I learned that throwing money on the stage was a little like putting money in a soda machine – this was how you showed your interest in one or more of the dancers.

After her dance, she came over to me and gave me a peck on the cheek. I felt the flush of warmth and embarrassment, but did not shy away. This girl was a good actress I think. She acted very shy and coy. She sat with me and for the first time, I actually talked a little with one of these girls asking them the same lame questions all inexperienced club-goers do. “How do you like your job”? “What do you do when you aren't working”? It was a slow night so she seemed to become comfortable with me and eventually she laid her head on my shoulder. OK, now I was sold. This girl was an expert salesperson. I recognized it for what it was – but truly didn't care. She was giving me what I wanted.

After what must have been supreme patience on her part, she invited me for a private dance. My face probably flushed three shades of red since I had to ask what that meant exactly – after all, they were private. She patiently explained that I would sit in the chair while she got naked and danced for me. Fair enough, that was what I had expected. We moved to the back, the music played and she danced. Actually, it was a bit more than I had expected. I thought I just got to watch, but she put her naked body on my lap and did some expert grinding to tease this old man. And then she moved to put her sweetest parts just millimeters from my face. My face flushed again – this time with excitement. All too quickly the song was over. She asked if I wanted another, but I really didn't know what I was doing and the tease was a painful way to spend money quickly. I wasn't even sure what to tip or how much was appropriate. I felt a bit awkward. The dance was a first, but not my first time.

I still wasn't quite addicted to clubbing yet, but the memories of that dance began to haunt me. I knew it wouldn't be long before I was back. I actually went a few more times over the next year. Sometimes to the same club and sometimes to another if the opportunity presented itself. I found I liked the full-nude clubs best since I didn't really drink much and hell - what's the point if you aren't seeing a girl naked? If I want to see bikinis, I'll go to the beach. Sometimes I'd get a dance, sometimes I wouldn't. It really depended on the salesmanship of the dancer. During one dance, the girl was grinding my lap to a point where I nearly went over the edge. I half jokingly whispered, “If you don't stop, you're going to make me cum”. She jumped up like I bit her with a look of alarm. That cooled things down quickly. That dance put me off for a long while because I felt a little embarrassed by my own lack of control. When I returned, I was still only visiting sporadically. Most seemed bored or stoned, but occasionally, one would sit and talk to me for a while and sell me on the fantasy that I was actually interesting or attractive.

It was on one of these visits that things started to change. I was at my “regular” club again. Funny how I started thinking of it this way. Some of the girls actually recognized me on site. I still felt like a noob but knew enough to start tipping better – honestly not that much different than tipping the staff at a restaurant. Not surprisingly, the better I tipped, the more attention I got. I even tipped the less attractive girls because sometimes they were the only ones there. I found I liked the early shift better than late nights because there were fewer customers. Even though the girls were often not quite as attractive, they usually made up for it with friendliness. There was always that one girl that seemed to talk to me every time I hit the door, but there just wasn't any chemistry with her. I tipped her on the stage and we would exchange a few words, but she generally moved on rather quickly. I can't believe I started feeling guilty about not getting a dance with her.

Finally, one very slow day, I thought, “what the hell” and I let her dance for me. I expected more of the same. Instead, she kind of chuckled at me with my hands by my side while she danced on my lap. Like a child being led, she grabbed my hands and pulled them up to her breasts. Now my head swirled with a new level of giddiness. These were the first young breasts I had felt since I had been young myself. They were small but firm. She encouraged me to caress her – above the waist. I indulged her. I probably felt greedy in my eagerness. She seemed to enjoy it. I think many of these girls were entertained by my inexperience. After the dance, I stammered some question that I thought I wasn't allowed to touch. She responded with a laugh, “Sweetie, all you had to do was ask.” This was definitely a first – but not my first time.

By now I was going semi-regularly. Maybe once a quarter. But one year near Christmas, I was flush with cash and went several times in the same month; even in the same week. I was feeling generous and confident and in a giving mood. One afternoon, I found myself the only customer and all of the girls there gathered around me just to talk and joke around. My comfort level had gone through the roof by this time since several of the girls were familiar to me. There was a great intimacy and I told them how much I appreciated that we could talk about anything – something missing from my average life. Some smiled, and a couple giggled. We talked about our significant others, the holidays, daily life, and of course sex. I was bold enough to ask questions about their favorite stories from dancing – what they liked or disliked about the customers and their sexual fantasies. Then they asked mine.

On a natural high from all of the women around me, I admitted that my favorite thing was to watch a woman have an orgasm. Some looked skeptical and others looked astonished. I admitted it was a bit of a fetish, but it got me more excited than anything else. I jokingly bragged that I had never failed to bring a woman to the breaking point. Of course I left out the little detail that I had only been with two women in my life so the statistics were a bit skewed. It was a good time. I think I got another dance that day and I'm sure it was fun. It was a first for me to be so open with these women, but it was not my first time.

I found an excuse to get back there a couple of days later. I had really enjoyed myself. I'm not really a lonely guy. I have a wife, and friends, and even my favorite hangout has a lot of staff that know us by name. But I truly had never been able to talk this candidly even at a party with booze flowing freely. It was liberating. When I returned, there were a few of the same girls there. A couple acknowledged me and on this night, Kiki joined me. Kiki was not her real name. By this time, I knew most of them by both their stage names and real names. I used their stage names around the other girls, but always made it a point to use their real names when we were in the VIP area. Kiki and I chatted a bit and this time she shifted the conversation towards sex. I know she was just giving me her sales pitch for a dance, but as naïve as I was about the club, I wasn't born yesterday. If they were willing to provide a fantasy for my money, then I as more than happy to give them the money. That's what I was there for.

Kiki was a little older than the other girls, and that suited me just fine. Her experience brought a higher level of sensuality to the dances and she seemed to really enjoy her time with me. Since we were closer in age, we could talk a bit more. After a little while, she inevitably asked if I wanted a private dance. I was more than happy to join her. Though a little older, she had larger breasts than most of the other girls. She was also rather tall which was different for me since I'm a little on the short side. I was sure her blonde hair came from a bottle, but it was still attractive and exciting.

By this time, I more or less knew the routine, so I followed her like a puppy to the VIP area. This area was semi-private but sometimes the bouncers or managers would peek around the corner. I had noticed this occurring less and less and common sense told me it was due to the regularity of my visits. As I got comfortable, Kiki quickly disrobed and leaned over to nibble my ear. She had found my weak spot and I squirmed. She smiled. The first song started and she began her sensuous routine. By this time, I was no longer sitting on my hands and I let them wander over her body. Kiki moved into a reverse cowboy position and did an expert job grinding me. Suddenly she pulled my hands down below her waste. I immediately felt her wetness and for a brief second wondered if she was that good an actress. This has always been a good position for me to stimulate a woman so I began to pleasure her the best way I could by finding her sweet spot. It was her turn to squirm. We were about through with the song but she whispered. “Can you really make any girl cum”? I was a bit surprised, but already worked up so I just smiled and replied, “I can certainly try”. The song came to an end and she kept grinding in the same position. “Shall we go another”, came her breathy request? “Of course”, I wasn't about to stop now.

Suddenly she was up off my lap and she used her long legs to straddle me. I noticed her glance around the corner once and then she actually stood on the chair. She put her pussy just inches from my mouth and I could smell her sweet and musky odor. Before I knew what was happening, she mashed my head back with her hips. There was no going back now. I used all of my experience, grabbed her ass, and began fucking her with my tongue. I'm sure there was some part of my brain left that was thinking about how crazy this was, but the little brain was screaming “shut up!”

Instead of grinding my lap, she was putting a great deal of pressure on my face. Being tall, I knew she was partially up over the partition from the dance floor to the VIP area. I think she might have been enjoying herself and keeping a lookout at the same time. Evidently, there was no one around or they just didn't care because her grinding became more intense and almost as the song ended, I felt her shudder.

A new song started and this time she didn't even asked. She stepped down from the chair and began another dance. I was startled yet again as she reached down and began to massage me through my pants. Electricity ran through my body and it took all of my control not to let loose right there. By this time big brain was almost completely shut down, but I decided I would just enjoy the dance. I leaned back with my eyes closed and heard her whisper, “my turn”. Before I could even glance down to see what she meant, she had expertly unzipped me and suddenly engulfed me in her mouth. Already worked up from the set, it took me very little time to reach the edge. I whispered that I was about to cum. I assumed she would stop and either finish me off by hand or bring me back down. But she never skipped a beat. Within seconds I exploded in her mouth and to my amazement she just kept going.

I don't actually remember the song ending after that. I know she smiled a knowing smiled and stood up to kiss me. I didn't care. This was not just my first time at the club, but no woman had ever been willing to perform oral sex to completion for me. I said something lame like “that was amazing” and we cleared out of the VIP. Needless to say, I tipped well that evening.

This all occurred before I knew anything about real “Extras” or “ATFs” or “PLs” or “BBBJ” or any of the many other things I have learned through experience and through tuscl. Was she just playing me to get more dances? That's possible, but it sure did seem spontaneous enough. Looking back, this girl could easily have become an ATF. I can't believe I didn't know these types of things could happen.

Though it was actually a while before I returned, I knew I was hooked. Unfortunately, she was gone by the time I made another visit. I've never had an experience quite that intense since, even though I've had some great dances. I also changed my budget so I could go more often. It seems I'm after that big score again though something that amazing has never been repeated. Ultimately, I know it was just for money, and I could never be sure if she had faked everything, but I certainly hoped she enjoyed it – I know I certainly enjoyed my first time.