A while ago, myself and some lady friends of mine from work went to a ladies night in a local watering hole. I spotted the poster some weeks before – nearly gave myself whiplash, as the art work included a topless random Adonis in a sailor hat. It had been some years since I had seen a male stripper, and was looking for something fun to do, I thought why the hell not. It was game on.
Now, my previous experience of seeing (male) strippers has sadly been rather limited to a ladies night in a club during University, and a stripper who was the entertainment at a friend’s hen do (she shall remain anonymous).
The hen do stripper was an unexpected addition, who turned up at my friend’s flat on the first night of the weekend, during the “girly” night in. He wasn’t exactly Brad Pitt. Not overly hideous, alright body, and a little short. Didn’t stop a few of us (myself included) jumping on him for some photos, but in truth, he wasn’t all that. The bride was NOT amused at all….this kind of entertainment was just not her cup of tea – she much prefers her husband, her mother was present. Although she went along with a dance, she wouldn’t let him get too close. I can’t blame her…..for all his flexibility, he could shake it, but yeah….not really my type either.
The night in the club in Liverpool is vaguely blurry due to the copious amounts of alcohol consumed before hand. There were 2/3, they wore uniform outfits, and they encouraged audience participation – by pulling members of the audience up on stage to grind against the lucky lady, or she gets a lap dance. Inevitably, the towels and whip cream come out, and the dancers tried to up the ante with audience participation, by getting some ….. physical encouragement….from the ladies. Yeah, basically tried to turn it into a live sex show and get head on stage.
Now, you know this blog is about sex, and my regular readers (and friends) will know I’m not really one to judge, or to shy away from things. But this type of stripping just disappoints me. I think that the men in question should be fit a fuck, dressed in uniforms (firemen/policemen/Marine), and get tastefully oggled at. If they want to get their kicks, they should do it in their own time.
But as I was to find out, this isn’t really what’s put on offer these days. And that fateful night in Liverpool was to be very quickly upstaged by what happened in Cardiff just a few short weeks ago.
We arrived, and enjoyed a mini perv at a semi decent looking bouncer, then headed upstairs. They club was small and hot and very quickly became quite crowded. I would have guessed at 100 horny punters at least. The bar staff looked either midly amused (the girls) or vaguely terrified (the boys). We were joined by two rather tipsy teachers (they made the point if saying Shhhhh! about their profession) who were clearly well up for it. The tension mounted, and the alcohol was flowing, although we had decided to remain sober, not knowing what was in store. In hindsight, a drink might have been a good idea.
Finally the MC came onstage – a fabulous drag act that did some brilliant karaoke numbers of the girly rallying type (It’s Raining Men, All Out Of Love, I Will Survive). We laughed and sang and joined in, but I could tell that everyone was just biding their time. After what seemed FOREVER, a slow tune started, and from the balcony descended stripper number 1. He was wearing Military Dress whites (think An Officer and a Gentleman) and even had the hat. And he wasn’t bad looking.
Or so I thought until he started removing said apparel.
My jaw dropped. I haven’t seen anyone that ripped out outside of porn or cartoons from the 1980s. The boy was buff – sculpted arms, tight massive toned legs, incredibly muscular back, and an 8 pack. He clearly lived in the gym, as no one is born that lucky. He slowly began to disrobe over a couple of songs, and took great pleasure in going out into the audience, and getting rubbed, and stroked, and generally pawed at by the ladies in the crowd. Slowly, but surely, he got down to his g-string. Yeah, clearly packing some heat.
One lady was pulled up on stage and got a lap dance, and this is where I started cringing. He pulled her hand into his g-string, and she copped a feel. Notice the emphasis on pulled. She looked embarrassed…..horrified actually, and was both married, and old enough to be retired. I don’t know WHY he picked this lady….she clearly didn’t enjoy it and there were plenty of willing volunteers ( yes, I was jumping up and down). I thought that would be it, but no. Full Monty. Which then got covered with sun cream, and the stripper in question began to….helicopter. Sexy? Not really. Hilarious and shocking? Very much so. Especially watching the girls right in front of him get sun cream in the eye.
By the second act, a lot more alcohol had been consumed, and the ladies of the ladies night had descended into a pack of baying wolves. We watched the only doorman get cornered and groped by several of them, only to need rescuing by a barman, who looked like he was shitting himself when he squeaked “Put him down!” Stripper number 2 also took his sweet time coming out, and finally emerged wearing a fireman’s outfit. He was….cute, in an early 90s boyband kind of way, but also chunky. Fuzzy, not a lot of muscle definition, and not as hot as the last one. But he had a cheeky grin I couldn’t quite place. Why so cocky?
After doing the standard tour of getting and slow reveal, I realised cocky was the appropriate word. When the towel finally got whipped away, and he started smearing his genitals in cream (whipped this time, there was an audible gasp). I kid you not, this guy was hung like an elephant. I have NEVER in all my days seen anything like it. It was HUGE, and he knew it. He strutted his stuff all over the stage, pulled a (willing this time) volunteer, and did sit ups on top of her before trying to grind her into the stage.
To be fair, I don’t really remember much else of his act. I was in shock. I won’t repeat the phrase I used…I just have a vague memory of a mass of flesh, screaming clawing women, and whipped cream flying everywhere.
The night culminated with the Marine joining the Fireman to give the prize of further lap dances to some lucky audience members, and the bouncer getting his shirt half ripped off, before the screaming, stomping, shouting bloodpack poured out into the damp Cardiff night.
So….verdict? Did I enjoy it? Yes….and no. I’m not keen on semi-forced audience participation during panto, let alone something like this. Some people loved it, others were less than happy, and that made me uncomfortable. Was it sexy….again, yes and no. The first one was fit, the second was cute, and they were both HUNG. Boxes ticked…but again, not. I think sexual attraction is more complicated than just generic “sexy” qualities….I always look for a spark/twinkle, and the mysterious element of chemistry you can’t force. Once again, they didn’t really do it for me. Also, with men and female strippers there’s something nice about rules being applied in standard strip bars…the building of lust, the sexy bodies so close, but men not being able to touch them….it’s a tease, and that makes it hot. That night, the rules went right out of the window and it was a free for all, and weirdly, being able to touch them (if only because the bouncer got mobbed) lost the edge for me….it made it less appealing knowing we could.
Would I recommend it? Oh god yes. As a spectacle, it was incredibly entertaining, gritty, bloody hilarious, and terrifying all within the space of 2 hours. But I think strip shows like that should come with a warning….not for the faint of heart, and doesn’t necessarily stick to product description.
At the end of the day, I think I’m a little more old fashioned than I realised. Although full beefcake is nice to indulge in once in a while, generally I prefer the suggestion of sexy, and for me, a flash of skin or half naked is much more of a tease than the Full Monty. It’s all about the antici……pation!