Once
we started going to lap-dancing clubs, we couldn't
stop. It was my boyfriend that initially persuaded
me to go, but after the first time, we were
as bad as each other. We constantly encouraged
each other, thought up excuses and justifications
to go again and again, even though we couldn't
afford it, even though we had to get up for
work.
We were living in New Zealand, which had a surprisingly
liberal attitude to sex, after all the jokes
people make about it being like 1950s England.
Prostitution had recently been legalised, and
although there were some dark and seedy red
light areas, there was also a bright shiny lap-dancing
club on the high street, right in the middle
of one of the main shopping areas, called Mermaids.
That first time, I thought I would die of embarrassment
as we walked past the doormen, paid and went
in. We sat at a table in the corner. In the
centre of the room was a raised stage, like
a small catwalk, with dancers' poles at both
ends. The thing I noticed most was how light
it was inside; it didn't seem seedy at all.
Most of the girls were walking around in bikinis
or skimpy dresses. An overweight, middle-aged
man in a suit sat alone at the table next to
us. Typical, I thought.
When the music started and the girls came out,
I felt like I was in a dream, it was just so
weird seeing something like that in the flesh.
The girls came onto the stage in pairs. At first
they just strutted up and down, circling the
poles at each end then after a bit, languidly,
seemingly casually, they would drop onto the
pole, spin around it, hang upside-down by their
ankles, bend themselves against it, wrapping
themselves around it like cats. It was completely
and utterly mesmerising. During the course of
a dance they undressed down to miniscule thongs.
Beside the stage sat hypnotised men who held
out special dancer's dollars, waiting for the
girls to come over, hold open the elastic of
their knickers and allow the men to tuck the
money inside. After each dance, the girls would
work the room, wandering around in their knickers
or in bikinis, collecting money from the tables.
Because we had hidden ourselves away in the
corner, and because we were fairly unusual,
being a couple, and we probably looked shy,
no one approached us that first time. The fat
middle-aged man in a suit had girls sitting
on his lap all night though, and I couldn't
help but feel a bit jealous and left out.
After that first awkward, exciting time, we
went again and again, and got braver and braver.
I enjoyed getting dressed up and sitting on
one of the stools by the stage looking sexy,
and feeling the eyes of the men upon me, wondering
about me, sometimes looking me up and down as
if they thought I worked there. I put money
into the girls' knickers, I rolled up dancer's
dollars in my mouth so that the girls took them
out of my mouth by squeezing their breasts together.
I had a private dance on my own in a booth with
a girl who looked like Drew Barrymore. It was
lovely feeling breasts in my face, but she talked
a lot in a girl-to-girl way and it felt a bit
like being at the hairdressers. I was rather
ashamed to discover that I found her less sexy
for that, as if I wanted to objectify her in
the way women always accuse men of doing.
Our favourites were two sassy girls, tall and
slim with sun-kissed skin and long, perfumed
golden-brown hair. They were absolutely gorgeous
and what was more they seemed to pay us special
attention. The four of us had a private dance,
so that my boyfriend and I each had a girl wrapped
around our laps at the same time. We weren't
allowed to use our hands, but they let us kiss
their breasts. They also did a special little
show where they lay on the floor in front of
us and opened their legs, flashing us their
pink little pussies. Afterwards, we tumbled
out of the booth drunk with desire, and as they
kissed us goodbye, one of them whispered in
my ear, "You're going to have great sex
tonight".
And we did, but I think that night we realised
we had taken Mermaids as far as it could go.
We wanted more now. Like the proverbial elephant
in the middle of the room, we hadn't actually
spoken about this, but above Mermaids was a
brothel called The Splash Club. We spent the
rest of the evening in Mermaids, restless, almost
bored as we thought about what lay ahead, or
rather, upstairs.
When we walked through the doors to Splash we
held hands, scared. It was very quiet, and looked
like the lobby and corridor of a hotel. We sat
and waited in a little room, like a booth. A
fat man came and asked us what we wanted. Suddenly
sober, I felt like a pervert, not the sexual
adventurer I thought I was downstairs. We waited
some more.
After what seemed like forever, a bouncy, bubbly
blonde wearing a tiny black lycra dress came
in and sat down opposite us. She was pretty
and friendly, with a straight bob haircut. She
looked like Cameron Diaz.
"So, you guys wanna play? Great! I love
doing couples." We followed her into a
white room, with a white double bed in the centre
and a huge white bath in the corner. Perspex
lamps softly lighted the room. James and I stood
around awkwardly. Cameron turned on the bath
taps.
"So, have you two done this before?"
We shook our heads.
"We'll take things a step at a time and
just, you know, have fun together." she
said breezily, as if she were proposing a game
of charades.
Cameron stood up and strolled over to me. She
put her hand on my cheek.
"You have such pretty hair."
And then she put her arms around me and kissed
me, and just like that, it had started, and
all the awkwardness had gone. I closed my eyes
and concentrated on the feel of her lovely soft
mouth. When I opened my eyes, I saw James grinning
at us, plainly delighted. Cameron pulled off
her dress, revealing an enviably slim, flat
stomach and nice, comfortably big breasts with
sweet pale pink nipples. She slipped off her
black lacy thong and I saw her neat little triangle
of pale brown hair and her smooth white bottom.
She stepped into the bath and we quickly undressed
and joined her. In the bath, Cameron said sweetly:
"Did you know that three people can kiss?"
That really did feel like a dream. Kissing like
that made us all giggly as well as hopelessly
turned on.
On the bed, Cameron said:
"What do you want?"
"Everything."
Cameron pretty much told us what to do, and
she was so sweet and so nice that she made it
easy. She took it in turns to give us her attention,
kissing James tenderly and passionately until
he was so turned on he didn't look nervous any
more; then asking me to do things with her in
a conspiratorial way. We sucked James's cock
together, just like in a porn film. It was brilliant,
if a bit weird doing it with a condom. He looked
like he was going to faint.
Then, with him laid flat on his back - he didn't
look like he could have moved if he'd wanted
to - Cameron got on top of him and lowered herself
onto his cock. She kissed him a lot and said
all sorts of sexy things to him, but he still
looked uncomfortable, as if he were scared I
was going to freak out. So I kissed him too,
then I kissed Cameron while he watched, and
with her encouragement I played with her breasts
and kissed her nipples. Then he looked happy.
After James had come, he lay there, an expression
of total bliss on his face, and Cameron guided
me into a sixty-nine with her. With her pussy
in front of my face, I was terrified of doing
it wrong, but I started slowly and gently and
she made lots of encouraging noises, and I was
proud of myself when she got wet. What with
concentrating on what I was doing, and trying
to remember it all, and the unintentional hilarity
of James' mind-blown expression, I knew I wasn't
going to come, but I didn't care. I knew that
the night would provide James and I with years
of sexual stimulation and wank fantasies. Either
that, or one of us was going to have to get
a second job in order to fund what could very
easily become a habit!
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