Here was mine. A buddy of mine shows up at the door, out of the blue at 4:00pm on a Thursday, and tells me he ditched the wife at her mom's and he wants to head down to Denver to check out a strip club (~70 miles from Ft Collins). So, after getting directions, we finally arrive at Shotgun Willies and I just remember having that same kind of feeling as when you're a little kid and you get to go sit on Santa's lap...that magical, happy feeling ;-) SWs has about 8 small octagonal stages with seats around them, so we find some open chairs and sit down. I just remember, for the first 20 minutes or so, I had to force myself to really ogle the girls. I've always been something of a gentleman and it took me a while to adjust. Once I did, though, I was tipping with the best of them. Went through the $1s I had, then threw down a couple fivers before dropping a $10. At that point, we were tapped except for one $20 I had in my wallet. The girl on stage was a little older, mid-30s, had seen better days, but after seeing the $10, she asked if I wanted a private dance. Told her my buddy was broke and we were heading out. Well, she offered a tandem dance for my final $20. So, off we went to the private dance area and got our private dance (total air dance except for the head-in-the-crotch-feather-duster move). When we were finished, she thanked us and walked us to the exit. Gave us both a big hug and a kiss on the cheek and we were off. Had a great time.
My first was in the area in Boston known as the combat zone. Basically, you watched a girl strip while the others came around trying to con you into buying them expensive drinks. I didn't buy and found the whole experience unsatisfactory and seedy. I haven't been back to Boston as much later I found out that clubs in other areas were much more fun.
Early 70's; Newport, Ky. Pink Pussycat. Fancy table-clothed stripping out front, gambling and god knows what else in back. Still remember the statuesque EZ Ryder (yeah, she ripped off the movie). Used to sit outside in the car @ closing time with my nineteen year old boner waiting for a glimpse of her. Like she was going to recognize me, wink, and climb in. Thirty five years later and the fantasy dies hard.
Actually the reason I don't remember is that most clubs were pretty lame in those days. You probably see more skin in a standard dance club today than you did in most strip clubs then. A better question might be, when did you first see a fully naked girl on stage. That I remember very well - it was in Montreal on a business trip in the late 60's. I kept looking for reasons to go to Montreal after that.
Mine was so damn long ago that I don't remember what was first - a really lame club in France while in the service, the Combat Zone in Boston, the Block in Baltimore or maybe somewhere else. But I'm sure it was in the 1960's. I think I first visited Mons Venus and 2001 in the 1970's. My first LD was in Key West around 1995 in a club called Pirate's Den which is no longer there. They had full contact fully nude lap dances in unmonitored private cubicles. I'm guessing that's why they're no longer there. Probably the most fun club I've ever visited.
My first time was in the mid 90s when I was working on a case that took me to Houston about once a month. It was at the Colorado Bar and Grill. I had heard of strip clubs, but knew nothing about lap dances...I thought the clubs were all quasi-burlesque stage shows. As soon as I sat down and got an adult beverage, a beatiful double D Asian (surgially enhanced, of course) came over to me and asked if I wanted a dance. She then jumped in my lap and gave me a level of grinding that, through about my senior year of high school, I would have considered enough to constitute a damn good first date. I had my eye on a hot latina, but she was tied up with a loaded (financially and chemically) Japanese businessman, so I spent most of the evening with a cute little spinner named Raylene...pretty much the Chitown ideal for non-Latin girls...five feet, a-cup, shoulder lenghth brown hair. The only off-putting thing about the experience was that she told me that she lived with a Houston cop, which I took to be her way of telling me I had better watch myself. However, the dancing was quite good, as I recall (although my standards were much lower then, as I had never yet had a dancer pull my unit out of my pants).
I remember stepping out in the chill breeze of mid-November Houston thinking that a new world had been opened to me. It was a sensation/emotion very much like that I had felt when I was seventeen, at the end of the first day at Major Big Ten State University that I went to after leaving Small Midwestern Hometown.
I remember I had been working a couple of years on my first professional job since graduating from college. I remember hearing one guy at work talking and laughing and telling me he was going to take me to a brothel of some sorts one day. He disturbed me though talking about fucking chickens which probably only got him going more. I didn't know if he was all talk or for real. Then one day the department manager said he was going to take me to a strip club. I had never been to one and didn't know what to think about them. I was actually wondering if it was like a brothel but didn't want to ask too may questions. Some of the guys from work really liked to joke about fucking this or that.
Anyway I agreed to go when the department manager said he was going to take me. He said to take a lot of cash so I took what I thought was a whole lot $50. Needless to say I enjoyed the club with topless dancing girls and I got a lot of attention from the girls especially when they found out I had never been to a strip club before. I believe the department manager paid for my admission or cover charge. I remember visiting a couple of other times with the department manager and a vendor or customer of ours (for our work) who paid a lot of the strip club expenses himself and even ordered pizza for us to eat in the club. I think I was starting to really enjoy strip clubs at that point. Free pizza and topless girls, seemed alright to me.
Dan, I went to the Admiral soon after my first club. I remembered seeing their ads in the papers years before when I lived in Chicago, and thought it must be a true den of iniquity. Total airdance bore. I got a table dance from a girl who, almost immediately, began saying we should get together for a date. I didn't know what to make of her, it was such a clumsy way to bring it up. I assumed she was trying to set up a paid "date", but later realized it was a standard trick strippers use to milk guys for more dances.
Almost exactly 12 years ago, around Thanksgiving, I met a girl in a regular dance club who was a stripper. She told me about a club she worked at in Detroit with lap dancing. Up to this point, my only experience with strip clubs had been a few not very memorable bachelor parties. I'd heard of lap dancing, but thought it was only done at a few seedy places in New York or San Francisco.
The following week, I headed for Detroit and the Wild Mustang. The girl I'd met wasn't there, but I was bowled over by the number of dancers. There were probably fewer than 20, but there had never been more than 3 or 4 at bachelor party outings. And the way they were mixing with the customers, coming around and sitting on your lap. Unreal. I wasn't prepared for how much the lap dances cost. $10 for just one song?!? I'd brought about $50, thinking that should cover my wildest possible needs. Even if I had more money, I wouldn't have considered getting more than one dance from any girl. Too extravagant. I didn't know about the VIP room until later trips.
I went to a little dive in Greensboro, NC called the Platinum club (gone now) with a couple of guys from work. We were in town for meeting, and didn't know a thing about any of the clubs. They wanted to drink, so we didn't go to any of the BYOB nude clubs, which I am sure would have been a better experience... There were only 3 women dancing that night, and I hadn't planned on going out, so I had very little cash on me. I basically tipped everything I had at the stage, not knowing anything about table dances or VIP areas. Then one of my coworkers started joking about paying to take one of the dancers home, but for my enjoyment. (At least at the time I thought he was joking.) Turns out he wasn't, but I didn't know any better. As slow as that club was, I wouldn't have been surprised if one of the dancers actually agreed to it. Needless to say I've learned a lot since then....
Me and a college buddy went to the Admiral Theater in Chicago. It was basically a place where a girl dances nude on stage and girls will do table dances. I thought it was great at the time. I doubt I could ever go to a place like that now.
My first club experience was in Key West. I was there on spring break with friends. They were back in the motel catching some Z's before our long drive back to campus. I was horny as hell from watching the girls at the wet tee shirt and bikini contest earlier that night. They were gyrating drunkenly and stripping to the raucous roaring chants of guys shouting "Take it off!" Teasers was within walking distance of our motel so I decided to walk over to check it out.
After a couple minutes at the stage, a brunette named Carla approached me for a couple dances. Her lap dances were slow and sensual, and it felt so good. I knew about strip clubs but had never even heard of lap dancing until that night. I don't remember much about Teasers, Carla, or even the dances. The only things I remember about Carla was that she told me that she was a single mom and that she smelled absolutely wonderful. Thinking back, I must have looked and smelled like hell after a full night of drinking, partying, and walking up and down Duval Street.
When I went back to the motel to go to bed -- actually the floor; there were 4 of us in a single -- one of the guys figured out where I had been from the smell of her perfume still on me. He asked me the next morning if I had gone. I didn't say a word.
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I remember stepping out in the chill breeze of mid-November Houston thinking that a new world had been opened to me. It was a sensation/emotion very much like that I had felt when I was seventeen, at the end of the first day at Major Big Ten State University that I went to after leaving Small Midwestern Hometown.
Anyway I agreed to go when the department manager said he was going to take me. He said to take a lot of cash so I took what I thought was a whole lot $50. Needless to say I enjoyed the club with topless dancing girls and I got a lot of attention from the girls especially when they found out I had never been to a strip club before. I believe the department manager paid for my admission or cover charge. I remember visiting a couple of other times with the department manager and a vendor or customer of ours (for our work) who paid a lot of the strip club expenses himself and even ordered pizza for us to eat in the club. I think I was starting to really enjoy strip clubs at that point. Free pizza and topless girls, seemed alright to me.
The following week, I headed for Detroit and the Wild Mustang. The girl I'd met wasn't there, but I was bowled over by the number of dancers. There were probably fewer than 20, but there had never been more than 3 or 4 at bachelor party outings. And the way they were mixing with the customers, coming around and sitting on your lap. Unreal. I wasn't prepared for how much the lap dances cost. $10 for just one song?!? I'd brought about $50, thinking that should cover my wildest possible needs. Even if I had more money, I wouldn't have considered getting more than one dance from any girl. Too extravagant. I didn't know about the VIP room until later trips.
After a couple minutes at the stage, a brunette named Carla approached me for a couple dances. Her lap dances were slow and sensual, and it felt so good. I knew about strip clubs but had never even heard of lap dancing until that night. I don't remember much about Teasers, Carla, or even the dances. The only things I remember about Carla was that she told me that she was a single mom and that she smelled absolutely wonderful. Thinking back, I must have looked and smelled like hell after a full night of drinking, partying, and walking up and down Duval Street.
When I went back to the motel to go to bed -- actually the floor; there were 4 of us in a single -- one of the guys figured out where I had been from the smell of her perfume still on me. He asked me the next morning if I had gone. I didn't say a word.