‘It’s just like page three but we move’: Two girls spend their first night in a strip club

We went with an open mind, had a lap dance, and left feeling confused and unsatisfied.

I’m sitting in a sticky black leather booth, on a towel, whilst a girl who smells of fake tan and biscuits gyrates on me to 50 Cent, ‘Down on Me’.

I had to pick her out of a line of girls, rubbing each other’s backs in a way that resembled a line of chimps, but when they saw I was choosing their eyelashed faces turned and smiled at me, quite predatory, quite scary, and definitely not sexy.

I was directed to a booth and asked to sit in the corner, she preferred it there, my legs were then spread and the show began.

My hands are stuck firmly to my thighs and whenever she brushes against me I cringe.

I could see how this would turn somebody on, the close contact, the leaning in but all I could see was a girl, I didn’t want to look at her jiggling her boobs, I kept trying to make awkward eye contact.

Deciding to focus on her body, which is presumably what most clientele do, I started then questioning my own bum my own tits, and could I move like that? Should I look like that?

Trying not to smile, or look too pervy I started looking at her outfit – flowery pants – not a personal favourite, and then the chest… the most overwhelming thing was the fake tan.

In the UV light I kept seeing patches where she had sweated and it had come off, in between the tits, I feel your pain, we’ve all been there.

It was very awkward; nobody looked like they were enjoying it. When the stripper mouthed the words of the song to me, whilst rubbing her boobs together I just felt so uncomfortable.

It was obviously all an act, a routine to her. As she lunged in boobs brushing my face, her repertoire contained a lot of hair flicks, lots of levels and body rolling, not that dissimilar to girls dancing in a nightclub.

In the grand finale, after stroking her panties her face came close to mine, feeling scared, like she might whisper in my ear and tell me to ‘piss off’ I was pleasantly suprised when I got a kiss on the cheek – probably the most comfortable bit of the whole dance.

After, she stood up dead straight and it was back to business. She seemed shy and it showed in her performance, her heart just didn’t seem in it.

We left the mostly empty, dull lit bar, and headed to another which came across more like a night club.

Lights flashing, chart tunes blaring and Sky Sports on the TV. There were lads in polos sipping on Carling and the only thing that different about the ladies was that they were in their pants, and skyscraper heels.

The first club charged a tenner for a topless dance, we thought that was quite good value at the time. Obviously our knowledge was flawed, in this place it was a tenner for fully nude.

I’m talking bum hole and everything. I saw it all for a tenner – she even twerked.

She told me how it can be worse with naked dances, because the boys always try to finger you. In a place where any touching was forbidden, this revelation was shocking, and gritty but obviously a common job hazard for her.

The doe-eyed, red lipped and fishnet clad girl took me by the hand and led me behind a dark curtain to a cornered off room where all the lap dances happen.

For your money, not only do you get to see your stripper naked, but about five others too. It’s quite hard to focus on your dance.

Next to me was a withered old man sat to my left lounging as I sat bolt upright, we kept awkwardly brushing hands, it was gross.

Eye contact was hard this time, even though she was enjoying the dance, it was to ‘New York’, she felt like my friend.

She was 19, the same age as me. When she started to take her bra off, my first thought was ‘no please, keep it on’. It was like watching your sister chatting somebody up.

She kept breathing really heavily around my face and neck – which was fine, but her breath stank. It was like a combination of a really dry tongue, red wine and cigarettes and I couldn’t exactly tell her to stop.

It’s weird because I really enjoyed the chit chat, you can understand why men come for that. They were all super friendly.

We were talking about things I’d typically talk about with my mates, I kept forgetting she was a stripper. She made me laugh, I made her laugh, we were telling each other stories, she was just a normal 19-year-old.

The Naked Truth: What the strippers told us about their jobs.

The customers:

You get a lot of people coming in on their own, that’s what most people class as wierdos but they’re the most normal, they talk to you and give you no hassle

Couples come in, and the husband will pay for the wife to get a dance whilst he watches.

Couples are weird. Women are weird. They either hate it or like it too much and try to grope you.

Lads that have never been and look around thinking what the fuck is going on.

The stag dos/groups are the worst, when they try to have a dig or criticise you.

Loads of the girls come up to me, crying because some one has called them fat, and It’s like why do you care? Who are they to you? You’ve got to have a thick skin in this business.

You never forget your first dance, the song it was to and who it was.

Mine was a big fat fella in a suit with a briefcase to Kelis’ hate you so much. It was pretty fitting.

You get your next door neighbour coming in, you’re uncle. That’s a strange one.

I turn down whoever I want, it’s not worth a tenner, I can get plenty more tenners.

On what it takes to be a good stripper:

It’s the chat that gets you far in this business, if you’re boring you’re fucked.

I’ve known some absolutely beautiful girls, and they just go to shit because they can’t talk. Then there’s the old ones. We had this 58-year-old and she made loads of money because she was easy to get on with.

It’s not competitive, we don’t choose the customers they choose us.

It’s like high school. It can get very competitive, people do try to steal your customers.

The Music:

The most popular music is r‘n’b but most of the girls here love rock music, it’s really sexy.

I cannot cope with rave music, and a lot of guys ask for it.

One time I had to dance to the yellow submarine.

Relationships:

I’m always dead honest in relationships, you shouldn’t judge some one on what they do.

I used to pay girls to dance for my boyfriend in the club.

I’ve had a boyfriend for two years, he doesn’t care. At the end of the day, I fuck him, I fuck him.

I felt awful when I danced for somebody else’s boyfriend. It’s just wrong, but I didn’t know until after.

I would never give my boyfriend a lap dance. It’s just wrong. I’d go into work mode.

On stripping and feminism:

It’s really hard to leave because it becomes all you know.

When most girls see boys, they just see money.

We get branded as slags but it’s actually quite the opposite. You get quite anti-man because you see what they do, even married men, you wise up to them.

We’re just like page three girls, but we move.

If you could shake your booty for two minutes and get paid for it, wouldn’t you?

I don’t have a pimp, stop trying to take me away, this is quite a nice place actually.

I love my body, and I can do what I want with it.

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The most striking was the body image thing. How every girl did look different, and was obviously completely comfortable to walk around in a thong that was more like dental floss.

We were quite envious, it really did seem to get rid of all insecurities, these girls were just being themselves.

A girl explained: “You can be whoever you want here, it’s hot. Male strippers have it way worse. If you’re not ripped, 25 and oiled up, you won’t get work.”

You know where we’re headed next time.