Strip Club Reports

**Edgewater94** · 11-10-22 13:19

Originally Posted by JoshuaFalken [View Original Post]

Over the next two posts I will wra
p this series up and give you gents your channel back, LOL. Chapter seven ended on night number three of my strip club field research, and covered experiences with five separate clubs. In real-time, however, I am on night number seven and have made multiple visits to six separate clubs at this point (recently adding Lollipops to my repertoire). So you see lads, what I've written to-date lags significantly behind my experiences and the gulf grows wider every day. Since I'll need to end the running commentary somewhere, this seems like a good spot, finishing the series after my first club "finish" as it were. Plus, now that UTR's "Rhymes with Fannie" and "DeLand Barbie" are back on my rotation, I want to start thinking about plotlines for A Space Opera II. If that previous sentence made no sense to you, check out post #2044 in the Deltona, Deland, Ormond, and Port Orange thread. As of right now you'll find it back on page 41. Anyway, cracking on.

Before I pull my thoughts together, let me briefly set the context. My conclusions, observations, ideas, etc., expressed below represent my best understanding as of today, and are the products of all my research, experiences, conversations, and messaging to-date. Also, regardless of how I construct any of the sentences below, they are all opinions and subject to all the flawed logic and skewed inferences you might expect from a strip clubbing novice. So with that, let's get into the meat and taters by paraphrasing the goals articulated in Part 1:

1. What extracurriculars are available on the strip club scene?
2. What costs are associated with extracurriculars?
3. What conditions affect the availability of extracurriculars?
4. What are the best approaches to maximize chances of extracurriculars?

Let's address those one by one. And by the way, if you're an old hand at this strip club game, please don't be offended. This noob isn't telling anyone how they should club. I'm just summarizing what I think I've learned. Perhaps there are even gents out there still more noob than I who could benefit from these experiences. Right, cracking on then.

What extracurriculars are available on the strip club scene? Well, it's all available, if you find the right lass and you're willing to pay for it. Just don't expect much in the private dance areas. Most of these places are as private as a church pew, so a dancer willing to go FIV is rare, and beyond FIV is rarer still. The real action occurs in more private surrounds like VIP rooms or out of the club entirely (OTC). Even there, it will be up to the lass as to what's available. Once you are intimate with her in the VIP, your chances at extras with her in the private dance area or OTC go up dramatically, assuming you've been a good boy of course. It stands to reason, right? She knows you aren't UC, she knows you spend, and she knows how you treat her. BTW, my sad but honest assessment is this. Of the dancers that meet my standards, only about twenty percent offer extras under reasonable conditions. By reasonable I mean those who will nut you for a two hundred quid trip to the VIP (which many here wouldn't consider reasonable at all). I'm sure if you wanted to motivate a lass with obscene amounts of cash you will usually succeed, so I'm not counting those. Oh, and if you are willing to shag any dancer in evidence, your chances go way up as well.

What costs are associated with extras? Let's discuss the entire topic of cost, though these vary a bit by club. The following are all assumed to be pre-tip costs unless otherwise stated. First, the drinks. On the low end are domestic bottles for around four bob. For mixed drinks, expect to pay closer to ten. If buying for a lady, I've seen everything between ten and twenty. When you are sitting at the stage there is a reasonable expectation that you are tipping. Cough up at least a few bob per dancer or sit further away. If you really want to show your appreciation or want her to track you down after her set, plan on a lot more. Five or more per song will impress her and making it rain (tossing a stack of singles into the air above her) will usually impress her even more. Private dances will run in the twenty to thirty quid-per-song range. For a more intimate session with a lass, expect to pay between two hundred and three-fifty in a VIP or Champaign room. If you negotiate any extras beyond that, the costs are up to you and the lass. We'll definitely revisit the subject of cost a bit more in chapter 9.

What conditions affect the availability of extracurriculars? If extras are available at all, one of the conditions they will depend on is you. Are you well groomed, funny, generous, respectful, confident, believably complimentary, and in decent shape? If so, you are going to have a much easier time. If not, you'll need to be extra generous I suppose. And then there's the lass. Her relative need and demeanor, which changes by the evening and the hour, will weigh heavily on the availability of extras. Learn to read her body language and wave off if you aren't feeling it. Recently I approached the hottest lass in the club and offered to buy her a dance. I thought her cold steely gaze and pouty little mouth might just be part of her sexy, alluring persona. Nope, it was part of her real, chilly, no-touching-allowed personality. One and done! In my limited experience, if you are looking for extras, there are two major tells to look for. First, how overtly sexual does she act towards patrons in general. Second, and this is very important, does SHE suggest a trip to the private VIP / Champagne room? If she does, there is probably something more to be had. If you do, she'll probably say sure, then take all your money for a prolonged lap dance.

What are the best approaches to maximize chances of extracurriculars? I've covered many of these in previous paragraphs but I'll summarize and add a few here. First, let's just kick the elephant in the room square in the bean bag. Money talks. Nay, money shouts. Money roars so loud it shakes the clubs and dancers to their very foundations. If you're broke, there are no extras. Okay, so you've got cash, now what? Many of the escort mongering rules seem to apply. Arrive well groomed. Treat her with respect without acting like a simp (or she will not respect you). If you aren't feeling it with one lass, move onto the next. It may also take several visits to the same club and lass for her to get "extra" comfortable with you. If you're here for extras, you might consider chilling out at first, enjoy the stage and some private dances, and settle yourself in for a longer game. Now let's talk about the clock. You don't know her level of motivation at any given moment, but in general, she is probably more motivated to earn cash towards the end of her shift than in the beginning when she still harbors hope of pulling in four hundred quid through stage and lap dances. If we are talking about the night shift, then around one a.m. is peak hunting time. As for which days of the week are best, honestly, I'm not really sure. I've been lucky during both weekdays and weekends and struck out during both as well. There will certainly be more punani available on the weekend, but there will be more competition for it as well. Based on my relatively scant experience, it's been about a wash so far. Most of you reading this probably know better than me anyway.

Okay that was a lot to digest. Lets stop there and in the final chapter I'll try to bring this series to a close.

Thanks for your reports on our local haunts. While it is kind of exciting to see if you can score something unexpected, I've found that it usually isn't worth the green. And I usually realize that on my way home with empty pockets. An AMP or provider that is a known, is boring too. I like to have the situation with a little unknown and still have a great outcome. While being safe.

**Joshua Falken** · 11-10-22 02:17

Over the next two posts I will wrap this series up and give you gents your channel back, LOL. Chapter seven ended on night number three of my strip club field research, and covered experiences with five separate clubs. In real-time, however, I am on night number seven and have made multiple visits to six separate clubs at this point (recently adding Lollipops to my repertoire). So you see lads, what I've written to-date lags significantly behind my experiences and the gulf grows wider every day. Since I'll need to end the running commentary somewhere, this seems like a good spot, finishing the series after my first club "finish" as it were. Plus, now that UTR's "Rhymes with Fannie" and "DeLand Barbie" are back on my rotation, I want to start thinking about plotlines for A Space Opera II. If that previous sentence made no sense to you, check out post #2044 in the Deltona, Deland, Ormond, and Port Orange thread. As of right now you'll find it back on page 41. Anyway, cracking on.

Before I pull my thoughts together, let me briefly set the context. My conclusions, observations, ideas, etc., expressed below represent my best understanding as of today, and are the products of all my research, experiences, conversations, and messaging to-date. Also, regardless of how I construct any of the sentences below, they are all opinions and subject to all the flawed logic and skewed inferences you might expect from a strip clubbing novice. So with that, let's get into the meat and taters by paraphrasing the goals articulated in Part 1:

1. What extracurriculars are available on the strip club scene?
2. What costs are associated with extracurriculars?
3. What conditions affect the availability of extracurriculars?
4. What are the best approaches to maximize chances of extracurriculars?

Let's address those one by one. And by the way, if you're an old hand at this strip club game, please don't be offended. This noob isn't telling anyone how they should club. I'm just summarizing what I think I've learned. Perhaps there are even gents out there still more noob than I who could benefit from these experiences. Right, cracking on then.

What extracurriculars are available on the strip club scene? Well, it's all available, if you find the right lass and you're willing to pay for it. Just don't expect much in the private dance areas. Most of these places are as private as a church pew, so a dancer willing to go FIV is rare, and beyond FIV is rarer still. The real action occurs in more private surrounds like VIP rooms or out of the club entirely (OTC). Even there, it will be up to the lass as to what's available. Once you are intimate with her in the VIP, your chances at extras with her in the private dance area or OTC go up dramatically, assuming you've been a good boy of course. It stands to reason, right? She knows you aren't UC, she knows you spend, and she knows how you treat her. BTW, my sad but honest assessment is this. Of the dancers that meet my standards, only about twenty percent offer extras under reasonable conditions. By reasonable I mean those who will nut you for a two hundred quid trip to the VIP (which many here wouldn't consider reasonable at all). I'm sure if you wanted to motivate a lass with obscene amounts of cash you will usually succeed, so I'm not counting those. Oh, and if you are willing to shag any dancer in evidence, your chances go way up as well.

What costs are associated with extras? Let's discuss the entire topic of cost, though these vary a bit by club. The following are all assumed to be pre-tip costs unless otherwise stated. First, the drinks. On the low end are domestic bottles for around four bob. For mixed drinks, expect to pay closer to ten. If buying for a lady, I've seen everything between ten and twenty. When you are sitting at the stage there is a reasonable expectation that you are tipping. Cough up at least a few bob per dancer or sit further away. If you really want to show your appreciation or want her to track you down after her set, plan on a lot more. Five or more per song will impress her and making it rain (tossing a stack of singles into the air above her) will usually impress her even more. Private dances will run in the twenty to thirty quid-per-song range. For a more intimate session with a lass, expect to pay between two hundred and three-fifty in a VIP or Champaign room. If you negotiate any extras beyond that, the costs are up to you and the lass. We'll definitely revisit the subject of cost a bit more in chapter 9.

What conditions affect the availability of extracurriculars? If extras are available at all, one of the conditions they will depend on is you. Are you well groomed, funny, generous, respectful, confident, believably complimentary, and in decent shape? If so, you are going to have a much easier time. If not, you'll need to be extra generous I suppose. And then there's the lass. Her relative need and demeanor, which changes by the evening and the hour, will weigh heavily on the availability of extras. Learn to read her body language and wave off if you aren't feeling it. Recently I approached the hottest lass in the club and offered to buy her a dance. I thought her cold steely gaze and pouty little mouth might just be part of her sexy, alluring persona. Nope, it was part of her real, chilly, no-touching-allowed personality. One and done! In my limited experience, if you are looking for extras, there are two major tells to look for. First, how overtly sexual does she act towards patrons in general. Second, and this is very important, does SHE suggest a trip to the private VIP / Champagne room? If she does, there is probably something more to be had. If you do, she'll probably say sure, then take all your money for a prolonged lap dance.

What are the best approaches to maximize chances of extracurriculars? I've covered many of these in previous paragraphs but I'll summarize and add a few here. First, let's just kick the elephant in the room square in the bean bag. Money talks. Nay, money shouts. Money roars so loud it shakes the clubs and dancers to their very foundations. If you're broke, there are no extras. Okay, so you've got cash, now what? Many of the escort mongering rules seem to apply. Arrive well groomed. Treat her with respect without acting like a simp (or she will not respect you). If you aren't feeling it with one lass, move onto the next. It may also take several visits to the same club and lass for her to get "extra" comfortable with you. If you're here for extras, you might consider chilling out at first, enjoy the stage and some private dances, and settle yourself in for a longer game. Now let's talk about the clock. You don't know her level of motivation at any given moment, but in general, she is probably more motivated to earn cash towards the end of her shift than in the beginning when she still harbors hope of pulling in four hundred quid through stage and lap dances. If we are talking about the night shift, then around one a.m. is peak hunting time. As for which days of the week are best, honestly, I'm not really sure. I've been lucky during both weekdays and weekends and struck out during both as well. There will certainly be more punani available on the weekend, but there will be more competition for it as well. Based on my relatively scant experience, it's been about a wash so far. Most of you reading this probably know better than me anyway.

Okay that was a lot to digest. Lets stop there and in the final chapter I'll try to bring this series to a close.

**Czfish12** · 11-07-22 12:08

Originally Posted by JoshuaFalken [View Original Post]

The wee lass asks for the cash upfront, stating that she first needs to pay the house their sixty five cut. That's good info I suppose. Now I know the lass makes one hundred and thirty five for the fifteen minute tryst. We leave the private dance area, walk along the bar, and hang a left through black curtains I hadn't noticed before. Back here there are two areas separated by more black curtain for privacy. Our playtime will occur on a black leather couch, the only furnishing in this private space. My host turns on her flashlight app and begins scrutinizing the couch and surrounding floor. "What are you looking for," I ask, pretty sure I know the answer. "Condoms, cum, whatever," she replies matter-of-factly. I have mixed feelings about this response. Encountering these remnants would be disgusting, though let's face it, the fact that they are a common hazards is encouraging, right?

I recline upon the sofa, excited to learn what my two hundred bob has wrought. The wee lass sheds her top and one of her bottom layers, leaving a few strings and a tiny patch of fabric covering her kitty. She sits on my lap, reclining back so her breasts protrude for easy access. She slides her string bikini to the side and encourages my touch. I slide a middle finger into her mouth then use it to go to work on her now glistening bald peach, my other hand paying special attention to her supple breasts.

After a few minutes of moaning gyrations, the wee lass straddles me, opens my fly, and pulls out a rock-hard John Thomas. She explains that while fucking isn't on the menu, there are other things she can do for me to relieve my tension. Then she slides her bikini to the side once again, splays her kitty lips wide, and begins sliding up and down on my bare cock. The sensation was pretty great, especially when she was grinding hard up near the tip. There were honestly moments when I couldn't tell if I was inside her or not. Eventually, the lass began moaning in earnest, picking up her hip-rocking pace until she climaxed hard, her kitty spasming as she held her breath for a time.

She now slides back, reaches down and begins stroking my cock. I tell her to hold up a sec, reaching into my pocket for a condom. I explain that I want to control any mess. "That's so fucking hot that you came prepared," the lass whispers in my ear while rolling on the cover. And right around the fifteen minute mark the lass has me bursting into the bag. "That was fun," the lass pants breathlessly as I tie off the evidence and stash it away in my jacket, along with the wrapper.

I saunter out of the VIP, hottie in tow, relishing the jealous looks from my fellow patrons. They probably think more went on than really did back in the VIP, but I'm not going to dispel any notions they've developed. Then comes the slightly awkward part where I disengage myself from the comely lass so I may continue my hunt for hottie number six. The lass is a great sport about it and shuffles off in search of still more generous patrons.

The place isn't that large, so it's not but a minute when I spy my final target of the evening standing at the end of the bar holding court with three or four of you lads. I lean against the wall where I can watch the stage and my lass simultaneously, patiently waiting for her to resume working the room. Three songs later and you jackals still have my graceful gazelle surrounded, LOL. I finally decide that if you were going to pony up for a dance, you would have done so by now. Plus it's now one thirty in the morning and there aren't going to be many songs left. I lean against the doorway six or seven feet from my prey. Eventually she notices me smiling conspiratorially at her and she smiles back. I nod my head towards the private dance area. Her eyes widen slightly and her eyebrows raise in silent question. I nod my head again towards the dance area and she smiles, giving me the slightest nod of ascent. She starts disengaging herself from you lot as I turn away innocently, patiently awaiting her arrival. A minute later and there is a beautiful, petite young lass hanging on my arm, and off we go for my final private dance of the evening. Honestly, the entire evening was an absolute blast. Did it merit the four hundred shekel outlay? I don't know. I do recall driving home happy, though scoring some doggy on that leather couch would have made me happier still, LOL.

Thanks for the intel! I drive by a lot, but never stop in.

**Joshua Falken** · 11-06-22 23:36

https://daytona.skipthegames.com/fem...s/264133029610

Based on her pics, the wee lass Catalina appears to be a dancer. If anyone knows where and when she dances, I'd be grateful of a PM.

Cheers lads!

**Joshua Falken** · 11-06-22 20:59

The wee lass asks for the cash upfront, stating that she first needs to pay the house their sixty five cut. That's good info I suppose. Now I know the lass makes one hundred and thirty five for the fifteen minute tryst. We leave the private dance area, walk along the bar, and hang a left through black curtains I hadn't noticed before. Back here there are two areas separated by more black curtain for privacy. Our playtime will occur on a black leather couch, the only furnishing in this private space. My host turns on her flashlight app and begins scrutinizing the couch and surrounding floor. "What are you looking for," I ask, pretty sure I know the answer. "Condoms, cum, whatever," she replies matter-of-factly. I have mixed feelings about this response. Encountering these remnants would be disgusting, though let's face it, the fact that they are a common hazards is encouraging, right?

I recline upon the sofa, excited to learn what my two hundred bob has wrought. The wee lass sheds her top and one of her bottom layers, leaving a few strings and a tiny patch of fabric covering her kitty. She sits on my lap, reclining back so her breasts protrude for easy access. She slides her string bikini to the side and encourages my touch. I slide a middle finger into her mouth then use it to go to work on her now glistening bald peach, my other hand paying special attention to her supple breasts.

After a few minutes of moaning gyrations, the wee lass straddles me, opens my fly, and pulls out a rock-hard John Thomas. She explains that while fucking isn't on the menu, there are other things she can do for me to relieve my tension. Then she slides her bikini to the side once again, splays her kitty lips wide, and begins sliding up and down on my bare cock. The sensation was pretty great, especially when she was grinding hard up near the tip. There were honestly moments when I couldn't tell if I was inside her or not. Eventually, the lass began moaning in earnest, picking up her hip-rocking pace until she climaxed hard, her kitty spasming as she held her breath for a time.

She now slides back, reaches down and begins stroking my cock. I tell her to hold up a sec, reaching into my pocket for a condom. I explain that I want to control any mess. "That's so fucking hot that you came prepared," the lass whispers in my ear while rolling on the cover. And right around the fifteen minute mark the lass has me bursting into the bag. "That was fun," the lass pants breathlessly as I tie off the evidence and stash it away in my jacket, along with the wrapper.

I saunter out of the VIP, hottie in tow, relishing the jealous looks from my fellow patrons. They probably think more went on than really did back in the VIP, but I'm not going to dispel any notions they've developed. Then comes the slightly awkward part where I disengage myself from the comely lass so I may continue my hunt for hottie number six. The lass is a great sport about it and shuffles off in search of still more generous patrons.

The place isn't that large, so it's not but a minute when I spy my final target of the evening standing at the end of the bar holding court with three or four of you lads. I lean against the wall where I can watch the stage and my lass simultaneously, patiently waiting for her to resume working the room. Three songs later and you jackals still have my graceful gazelle surrounded, LOL. I finally decide that if you were going to pony up for a dance, you would have done so by now. Plus it's now one thirty in the morning and there aren't going to be many songs left. I lean against the doorway six or seven feet from my prey. Eventually she notices me smiling conspiratorially at her and she smiles back. I nod my head towards the private dance area. Her eyes widen slightly and her eyebrows raise in silent question. I nod my head again towards the dance area and she smiles, giving me the slightest nod of ascent. She starts disengaging herself from you lot as I turn away innocently, patiently awaiting her arrival. A minute later and there is a beautiful, petite young lass hanging on my arm, and off we go for my final private dance of the evening. Honestly, the entire evening was an absolute blast. Did it merit the four hundred shekel outlay? I don't know. I do recall driving home happy, though scoring some doggy on that leather couch would have made me happier still, LOL.

**Joshua Falken** · 11-05-22 18:29

I arrive at Dixie's and note the extreme contrast between this parking lot and Soft Tails. The front and sides are completely full, causing me to park in the ample space behind the building. The lot is at least half pickup trucks. These aren't the LED and road armor variety ubiquitous on beachside on weekend nights. These are daily commuters and work trucks by and large. A general absence of luxury vehicles like mine tells me patron demographics have shifted from beachside and Silhouettes. This place clearly caters to the working class. I'm not displeased as I make my way to the front door, optimistic that my cash may have more persuasive power here than on beachside.

I pay the ten bob cover and sashay inside, getting the lay of the land as it were. The interior of Dixie's has two main rooms. The one I've just entered, which is dominated by a large bar in the middle and three pool tables to my right, and a room to my left, which sports a small stage, tables and chairs, and the entrance to the private dance area. The interior has a bit of a Roadhouse vibe, more rough and rustic than other clubs I've recently encountered.

I proceed to the bar and order a drink, only then taking the time to scrutinize the half-naked talent and my fellow patrons. As raw beauty goes, these girls are on par with Molly Brown's, perhaps a cut below Grandview and Silhouettes but miles beyond Soft Tails. As for dancer demographics, this appears to have shifted a bit as well. In Daytona, the dancers seemed to run about sixty percent white, thirty percent black, and ten percent latina. Here I estimate the distribution to be more like thirty percent white, fifty percent black, and twenty percent latina. I immediately begin constructing my mental dance card, which includes six lasses in F-7 to F-9 territory, across all demographics present (sadly, there is nary an asian lass in sight). Actually, one of the girls is legitimately pushing F-10 territory. A stunning young lass with a gorgeous body and flawless skin who goes by Ivory. As for my fellows, this is the biggest change from Daytona. There I would estimate patronage to be eighty percent white. Here, I estimate the distribution to be around twenty percent white, fifty percent black, and thirty percent latin.

Oh, speaking of patron demographics, I generally refer to patrons as male, but this is not always the case. Being my fifth club, there are a few interesting trends emerging that I didn't really expect or think about before setting off on this journey. One observation is that club patronage seems to run about ten or fifteen percent female who generally fall into one of four categories: women accompanied by their significant others, off-duty dancers, small friend groups, and all others. BTW, though they make up a small percentage of the general patron population, women seem to tip stage dancers at a significantly higher rate than their male counterparts. Though they represent around an eighth of patrons, I estimate they are responsible for about half of the thong-stuffing going on stage side. Oh my, but I seem to have strayed a bit off topic, so let's dive back into the Dixie's experience as seen through a noobs eyes.

With my mental dance card filled out, I nurse my drink and people watch until one of my targets takes her turn on stage. I used to be timid about tipping stage side, not wanting to draw attention, fearing I'd appear lecherous, or that I'd fumble the mechanics of the tipping process. I got over that shit quickly, wanting to provide myself the richest strip club experience possible. Now I sidle on up at will and stuff singles into thongs, garters, bras, and whatever fleshy crevices I'm being offered at the time with reckless abandon. If you share any of my aforementioned stage tipping anxieties, stand by and in a later post I'll offer some strategies that helped me get passed them.

After her set she posts up along one of my sight lines, casting me glances until I mosey up and offer to buy her a drink. It was fourteen quid plus tip. That's another tidbit I've picked up along the way. That same drink would have been maybe nine quid for me, but here in strip club land the lady gets a cut. We chat about her dancing career and about the ladies here she knows. I ask her for intel on my dance card lasses and she offers up what little she knows. She encourages me to sample them all (which I think is pretty great) and I tell her that's exactly what I'm going to do. By the end of the drink I have her belly laughing and know she'll be a fun time. We slide on back to the private dance area where a sign pronounces dances to be twenty bob per song. Sweet! Everywhere else has been twenty five. After the relative opulence of Daytona Beach strip clubs I'm a bit shocked by the private dance booths. First, the place is tiny. I didn't count the booths but I got the sense that there may have been around six total. Second, the booths themselves are cramped, dingy, and in serious need of renovation. The lass, however, is highly skilled and allows over the clothes caressing everywhere. She also keeps firm contact with my erect John Thomas, either with her wee arse, her barely covered peach, or her inner thigh.

After the dance I settle up with hottie number one, leaving a tip large enough to be memorable, before moving on to hottie number two. The night proceeds thusly until I've checked off five from my list. Number six is nowhere in sight so I circle back to the most playful of the previous five for another dance. As the dance winds down she whispers in my ear, "you know, we have a VIP area." I truthfully confide that I didn't know, and ask about the terms. "It's two hundred for fifteen minutes, or three fifty per half-hour." Well, this sounds familiar I think to myself. "If I drop two hundred quid for fifteen minutes, am I going to be disappointed?" I ask quite reasonably. She easily understands quid from context and proffers me a conspiratorial smile. "You'll be quite satisfied with our time together my good chap," she teases. Well, it's now clear to me that I need to understand this VIP action, so I settle up the current dance and agree to the fifteen minute VIP treatment.

**Joshua Falken** · 11-05-22 02:57

Originally Posted by JWalkerNikka [View Original Post]

Is Dixie. S smoke free?

On a return visit I paid special attention to this point. Dixie's is not smoke-free, and this time, I did leave smelling like an ash tray.

Cheers!

**Joshua Falken** · 11-03-22 23:59

I've only hit two of the County's coastal clubs, but decide my third sortie will include Silhouette's and Dixie's. As I chart my course I note a target of opportunity along my route. Soft Tails on US-92 in East DeLand sits betwixt my primaries, so I decide the night will be a threefer.

I arrive at Silhouette's on another weekend night. Near the intersection of I95 and ISB, the club is tucked in amongst motels I know well from my escort knavery. I park and saunter inside, careful to exude confidence, though I feel none in these strange surrounds. Trust me lads, they can smell fear, LOL.

A bouncer dressed like a Vegas blackjack dealer in slacks, button-down shirt, and vest holds the door for me. I would soon learn that all bouncers here are adorned thusly. I offer up the cover charge though I can't recall the amount just now. It must have been somewhere in the ten-to-twenty range, because every club I've visited so far has been.

I enter the main room and pause to get my bearings. Bar against the back wall. Private dance area to my right, stage in the middle, tables and chairs scattered throughout. Pretty standard stuff. After a minute or two, several key features stand out that differentiate Silhouette's from Grandview and Molly Brown's. First, Silhouette's is actually smaller than the first floor of Molly's. Second, the general level of dancer hotness is at least on par with Grandview, maybe even slightly above (subjective I know). Third, the ratio of vest-clad bouncers to patrons is abnormally high. Probably double Grandview's ratio, which was considerably higher than Molly's.

I grab a drink and a seat at the bar and take in the show. A few minutes hence and I notice a tall bald bouncer berating a customer a few seats away. I couldn't hear the charges over the music and general conversational din, but the patron, duly humbled, apparently pleads a strong enough case to be allowed to stay. That's new I think to myself, and even a bit off-putting. I order another drink and continue to watch the stage. I also can't help but notice that most of the hot lasses, including the one sitting immediately to my right, have glommed onto specific customers, rendering themselves unavailable to the likes of me.

It isn't long before Baldy is dressing down a dancer and a bouncer near the private dance entrance. Based on the way he's throwing his weight around the room, I decide he must be a manager, maybe even a part owner? The dude is big and loud and irritating af when in earshot. If I'm to be tossed out on my ear, this will be the guy that does it, I decide.

A fellow patron, a black guy with a close-cropped salt and pepper beard and truckers cap sees me watching Baldy and leans in close. "I wouldn't want to be on that dude's bad side," he says presciently. I've been watching Baldy work the room for the last half hour and find my new friend's comment a bit too generous. I lean in even closer. "I don't think he has another side," I confide.

Whether it was Baldy, the large number of bouncers, or all the hot lasses singling up, the place was giving me strong "no extras here" vibe. That is purely perception on my part and may be totally false, but regrettably I don't linger to find out for sure. Not with Dixie's and Soft Tails literally looming on the horizon. I take my leave less than an hour after my arrival.

I head west on US-92 and pull into Soft Tails fifteen minutes hence. The sparse parking lot does not inspire confidence, but I may as well give 'er a look-see I reckon. I walk into the vestibule and up to the entry door on its far side. "That'll be fifteen" a voice calls out from behind me. I turn around and, save for myself, the vestibule is completely empty. This is fucking weird I think to myself. I shake my head and turn towards the entry door once again. "Hey, over here," calls the disembodied voice. I spin around and gaze once again upon a completely empty vestibule. I decide there's nothing else for it but to play along. "Reveal thyself, oh great invisible gate troll," I call out to the empty room. The gate troll laughs. "Down here," he shouts, waving a hand through the wall. It's then I see a small rectangular cutout in the wall to my right at crotch level. I bend down and peer through the little facedoor. "Oh, that's a relief," I sigh to the gate troll while handing him a twenty. "Relief?" he asks, handing me back my change. "You're corporeal," I reply. I return his quizzical look with a smile, then pass through into Soft Tails' den of iniquity.

Okay, so iniquity is overly generous. Den of mild frivolity? Anyway, immediate impressions: The place is large. The place is clean. The place is empty. I count eleven patrons up near the bar and stage area, and it's around midnight on a weekend. The bar tender, thoroughly underworked, is chatting with customers while the only two dancers in sight slither about the stage. I park me arse in a chair along the back wall opposite the stage and consider my life choices. I gaze placidly as the two thick lasses flop about, both F-3's on the Falken hotness scale, and neither overly flattered by her stringy attire. I beat a hasty retreat.

I push on up the road towards Dixie's where, if contemporary reviews are accurate, my prospects should be significantly better.

**Joshua Falken** · 11-03-22 02:01

I return to both venues late one weekend night, beginning with Molly's, determined to learn what extras may be in the offing. As my sand jogging friend has no doubt surmised, it could have gone better, lol. Don't get me wrong, hot dancers are no longer scarce. I'd say a nine and three solid eights are working the crowd, with perhaps fifteen or twenty total dancers in evidence. It's very hard to say exactly how many are really present. With private dances, smoke breaks, trips to the loo, and whatever else these ladies get up to, the scantily clad female demographic is, of course, in a continual state of flux.

I gracefully deflect a few dancers who don't match my particular tastes, which pretty much boil down to youthful with a bang'n body (toned, with a beautiful arse and perky B-cups are optimal). As for ethnicity, I couldn't care less. I hail from the James Tiberius Kirk school of shaggery. White, black, or kelly green, I don't care. As one of my more poetic friends once summarized so concisely, "If she fine, we fuckin." <sniff> I strive to one day attain his eloquence!

I finally spot my quarry and whisk her away for a private dance. As it nears it's conclusion I gather my courage and pop the all-important question regarding extras. She politely replies that she doesn't, and goes on with the dance as if the question was perfectly normal. Now that I think about it, for these girls, it probably is. I query every eight and nine (my scale of course) I can pin down and receive largely the same reply. Well, except for the last one that is. She says we should talk about it in the VIP room, 200 quid for fifteen minutes or 350 for a half hour. "But not for sex," she adds quickly. I consider her proposal briefly while she grinds her fine wee arse on my lap. Remember my rule articulated in part one? The costs can't exceed escort/UTR levels by too much, else there seems little point. I also can't tell if her "but not for sex" comment is just a hedge in case I'm UC, or if I would legitimately be laying down 200 quid for a hummer through denim. I decide not to risk it. I politely decline her offer and the little succubus has the temerity to get pissed off that I won't take her up to the VIP. I pay her for the dance, including tip, then she storms off like I've wasted her time. You really can't make this shit up.

I call Molly's a bust and shuffle down the street to Grandview, still a bit miffed at my ill usage. Much as Molly Brown's was rocking on this weekend night, Grandview has equally upped its game. Somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty five dancers are working the poles and the crowd of over a hundred patrons. Three at a time are showing off their skills on the stage. It really is pretty great to watch. I grab a drink, wave off a few dancers, and note ten-or-so that flip my switch. A few recall me from my previous sortie, and gleefully haul me back to be ground upon. After a few of these, and again, no extras available, I decide to change tack. I'm going to sink more cash into a single lass, then ask her for more. So now I'm four dances and a hundred quid (plus tip) into this gorgeous little brunette when I pop the question, and the answer is exactly the same. She politely declines, yet happily continues grinding and purring and cooing in my ear. The lights begin to flash, heralding not just the close of Grandview, but my hopes for any extras or takeout.

Okay, not as fun as I'd hoped, but entertaining and educational I suppose. Worth three hundred bob? No. I clearly need a new plan. I hadn't exhausted opportunities at either venue, but I'd made a large enough dent that I didn't like my chances. I walk to my truck, lost in thought. Yes, it's definitely time to try other spots. But tonight isn't over. I pull out the mobile and once again ping my UTR.

Me: Hey there love, want to keep a handsome rogue company tonight?

Her: Nah, but YOU can come over. Give me 20 min.

I laugh, again reflecting upon my good fortune, and happily drive off to a blessedly sure thing.

**R Shackleford** · 11-02-22 16:06

Originally Posted by HeadHunchoo [View Original Post]

What do y'all think are the best clubs to go to, including the girls offering extras and are decently priced?

I'd say Dixie's and bottoms up are the two best. Bottoms up used to be way better though. Dances were 20 instead of 30 and girls were much hotter. Dixie is still really good. Just go later when the girls show up like after 11 pm.

**DonMuraco** · 11-02-22 06:02

Originally Posted by JoshuaFalken [View Original Post]

I can verify that this is true. Also Soft Tails, but it could be that the place was so barren I just didn't notice, LOL.

Dixie's was slammed when I was there, and again, I didn't notice any smokers, but I wasn't looking either. I didn't leave reeking like an ash tray at any rate.

Thanks for all the non-smoking info brother.

**HeadHunchoo** · 10-31-22 10:58

What do y'all think are the best clubs to go to, including the girls offering extras and are decently priced?

**Joshua Falken** · 10-30-22 22:02

Originally Posted by BeachRunner51 [View Original Post]

Please tell me that the great professor has received some kind of educational grant to conduct a study on the pro's and con's of strip club girls vs advertising girls! I believe I know what Sir Falkens ultimately conclusion might be as well as what the alarming trend is but I'm still looking forward to reading his neon lights poetry. This may just get you that book deal that you certainly deserve and who knows maybe even be turned into a hollywood movie, oh wait didn't Demi Moore already star in Striptease! Cheers my friend.

Originally Posted by MSheeran [View Original Post]

I'm enjoying the novel so far! It might make a great movie / documentary one day, LOL. I have been to Biggins and Grandview recently. Very different experiences and both a lot of fun. I can get carried away by listening to the little head so GV got me for more than I wanted to spend and I ended up with a nice souvenir of a throat infection days later due to the daty I so enjoyed in the private dancing area. So stay safe! Although I don't know how to avoid that other than banning yourself from daty. There's just something fun about the strip clubs, right! Ok, not just something, but all the naked girls, bars, provocative dancing and grinding, mmm, will have to get back soon but I find it hard to escape dw in the later hours and many are not open in the afternoon hours.

Msheeran.

Thank you lads for your support, and for those who have messaged me on the subject. I am now five days and six clubs into my research and OMG this is getting expensive, LOL. I think I could have done four doubles with Avalon and Berlin by now! I'm having fun though. Learning a bit too I suppose.

What's that ol' business mantra? Fail forward fast? Well, I don't know about the forward bit, but I've got failing fast down to a bloody science.

I think I need to pick up the pace of my reporting a bit though. I keep meaning to sit and write...but then I say eff it and dash out to another club, LOL.

Cheers mates!

**EroticM** · 10-30-22 16:46

My bday is coming up and my wife surprised me by wanting to take me to a strip joint.

Anyone have any experience in going as a couple to a strip club? And if so, which might be the best ones? The wife is not shy about both of us in a VIP room getting some action.

Thanks.

**MSheeran** · 10-27-22 18:17

I'm enjoying the novel so far! It might make a great movie / documentary one day, LOL. I have been to Biggins and Grandview recently. Very different experiences and both a lot of fun. I can get carried away by listening to the little head so GV got me for more than I wanted to spend and I ended up with a nice souvenir of a throat infection days later due to the daty I so enjoyed in the private dancing area. So stay safe! Although I don't know how to avoid that other than banning yourself from daty. There's just something fun about the strip clubs, right! Ok, not just something, but all the naked girls, bars, provocative dancing and grinding, mmm, will have to get back soon but I find it hard to escape dw in the later hours and many are not open in the afternoon hours.

Msheeran.

Originally Posted by JoshuaFalken [View Original Post]

I stroll into Molly Brown's, pay the criminal twenty quid cover, and step through the metal detector. I note a bar against the back wall and stride there with purpose. Once my drink is in hand, I turn, lean back against the bar, and survey the venue in earnest.

At twelve o'clock low sits the stage. It abuts the far wall and is surrounded by the obligatory stage-side seating. To it's left sits the club's entrance whence I've just come, and immediately left of that, a stairway to the second floor. High top tables are scattered to my left, as well as between the bar and the stage. To my right sits the back room gatekeeper, and "private" dance couches extend back behind the right side wall. Along this wall sit three low top tables, and what appear to be the more comfortable of the club's seating options. In the far right corner is another set of stairs cordoned off with a velvet stanchion rope, it's sign declaring "VIP". The second floor, it appears, is laid out in horseshoe fashion, DJ directly above me, Champagne room to the left (so called by one of the dancers), and VIP to the right.

I've turned my attention to a blonde with pale skin and wide hips skillfully working the pole when I am once again set upon by a thick lass with inch-long false eyelashes, three inch nails, and frosting thick sparkly eye shadow. Honestly lads, who among us find that look attractive? Seriously.

The thick bedazzled lass has been making the rounds and doubtless my recent arrival and upscale garb are like chum in the water. I politely wave her off, though she takes some convincing. I could have just told her I was broke and watched the invisible repulsion field push her away, but the truth would be evident soon enough I reckoned.

As I reestablish my bearings, I note that, on average, the talent here is a step below Grandview. Even on a weeknight, Grandview had at least three nines and a dozen eights. As I scan the room I struggle to identify any such talent. But perhaps a direct comparison isn't quite fair, as you could probably wedge four or five Molly's into Grandview's cavernous expanse.

As I contemplate trying again on a weekend, a grizzled veteran with a pretty face and dual airbags tries me next. We chat amicably for a bit, but it's soon obvious to her that she is also not my type. As I watch her posterior fade into the sparse weeknight crowd, I am struck by something she said in casual conversation. It was a relatively innocent, offhand remark, yet it would eventually shift my entire view of the strip club scene, and perhaps, add a powerful new arrow in my strip clubbing quiver. But that is a story for another chapter. Right, getting back to our story.

Around this time, a pale skinned lass of medium height (not counting the absurd heels) alights from a private dance. Even from thirty feet away and bathed in florescent blue light, the raven haired lass with a tight body is clearly in eight or nine territory. I've only taken a step or two toward her when one of you lot swoops in and sweeps her up to the VIP room, never to be seen again.

I begin to contemplate cutting my losses. But this is world famous Molly Brown's. How is it even possible that a gent with over two hundred quid in his billfold is leaving without a twenty-something grinding her wee arse against his junk? I pause to contemplate my entire clubbing ethos. Are my standards just too high? Or maybe just too specific, since one man's frog is another man's princess. I pull out the mobile and message my UTR.

Me: You aren't awake by chance, are you love?

Her: I am

Me: Is <son's name> asleep?

Her: Yes come see me

Me: OMW

I leave her place an hour-or-so later with a new spring in my step. I am lucky to have her. Steady and accommodating, she's saved me from unreliable escorts more times than I care to guess, and now she's defending my nights against prude and underwhelming strip clubs, though of course she doesn't know this.

Driving home I reflect on the evening's events. I know I haven't given either club a fair shake, showing up on a weeknight and never asking for extras. I commit then and there to revisit both the following weekend, and this time, there'll be no chickening out.