Best lapdance of the week

Hello jolly readers!

After a spate of 'How to....'s" last month, as I explored the dating scene and lapdancing, I feel it's time to dish the dirt again on what has been happening in my booths this week.  I've decided that it would be fun to highlight my best - and potentially the worst - lapdances I take part in as a weekly series.  Hell, why not?

So look out for the label's; 'best lapdance' and 'worst lapdance', which should begin to appear on my label cloud on the sidebar.  Unfortunately I don't seem to have a search feature on my blogger, and can't be asked to install one right now, if one even exists, as I'm too tired and hungover after a hard night's graft.
And you'll never guess what happened....

"Best Lapdance of the week! Award" goes to Josh, an American suit that chose to celebrate his last night in London with me and a Czech girl.  He win's hands down because he had such a good body.
You could just about make out the thick muscles in his biceps that strained ever so slightly against the fabric of his well cut designer suit, but I gave him a squeeze just to make sure. Yep, those were some muscles alright, I smiled as he flexed them for the benefit of the cooing strippers around him.
He was HOT, and RICH, and HE KNEW IT!!!
I jumped for joy when he picked me to dance for him as it was a) a total confidence boost and b) made all the other girls jealous.
Actually he picked two of us girls to play with him as he was a greedy, fun loving sod - but I love threesomes and the three of us practically skipped towards the lapdance area.
He drawled oodles of compliments about the Czech girls flat stomach and my jiggling bottom in a sensual American accent for a couple of songs, but it was when some American Rock came on that he really came into his element.

As Def Leppard called for some sugar to be poured on him, Josh leapt up and began to thrust his crotch with a rocker's rhythm.
Whilst Def began to get hot, sticky and sweet, Josh began to under the buttons on his shirt, one by one, in time to the pounding drum beat.
Us two girls screamed like schoolgirls, ostensibly to make Josh feel like a real life rockstar, but there was passion behind my screams, because Josh revealed something very, very tasty under his suit.
A tanned and rippling six pack with just about the right amount of soft chest hair that called out for me to sink my fingers into.
So I did.
Well, we had to check out his chest didn't we?
"No touching the dancers allowed!" Josh joked, and we giggled right back.

Hitting a lap dance HOME RUN!!!!!

Tonight all the stars aligned and I got squillions of VIPs in half hourly increments and then hustled myself up a VIP room full of beautiful people and galloons of booze.

• Both the customers I was dancing for and my fellow dancers were seriously off the scale of hotness. Tall 6"foot men from Viking country. Check.  Super sexy teeny weeny swishy haired curvy sexkittens from Romania, Bulgaria and any country in eastern Europe ending in  -ia.....Check.
• Free flowing super chilled booze on tap.  Check.
• Good hair day, no bloat, fresh clean underwear.  Check.
• Great times with no leching, touching or aggro.  Check.
• Made oodles of money very, very easily.  CHECK.

i just wanted to show off a little folks. Its the last few nights in the run-up to Christmas, and I had the night of my dreams..... Charlie Sheen would be proud... 

Stripclub Stereotypes #11 ; The Eastern European Stripper

Like most British industries, the stripping world has been hit by an influx of immigrants from the former Soviet Bloc states and other countries in the Eastern Europe diaspora over the past decade or so.  They are easy to spot, as they all have long thick hair untouched and undamaged from years of bleaching and extensions, and look like a catwalk model.  Luckily for this historically crappily accurate (ish) account of how they travelled across Europe just to show you their sweet little pussies,  they didn't all come at once, and certainly don't all look the same....

The first wave were the Poles - tall, blonde & blue-eyed young ladies from Poland. As their nationality would suggest, the Poles made very good strippers as they looked excellent draped around a pole, your lap, or each other.  Some even took the jingo reference seriously and became highly-proficient feature dancers with acrobatic pole-work shows.
A few years later, the Estonians and Latvians showed up, I think - a various hotch-potch of countries, bringing with them a kaleidoscope of varying languages and womanhood.  Changing-rooms across the country were suddenly mini United Nations, and the women now on offer were of all sorts of beauty.  Brunette, blondes, mousy, eyes of baize green, icy blues and deep russet browns. they smoked funny cigarettes, such as thin Vogues, and mostly came in pairs or cliques, chattering away in conversations peppered with gutteral pronunciations and the odd designer label 'Mulberry', 'Dolce' & of course, 'Primarni' as the big store on Oxford Street was freshly opened and was - and still is - a mecca for a girl looking for some cheap underwear.
Most recently, the Romanians have ventured onto British shores.  The Romanian girls pushed a whole new kind of meaning to pushy and ridiculousy sexy.  These girls are usually so drop-dead gorgeous you would think they were the underworlds harem.  I've never seen such long, luscious hair, deep black with thick waves and curls.  Eyes are a deep black, wide and open, and fix men with a hypnotic stare.

As a stripclub stereotype, the Eastern European Stripper (and I know that this is a broad bunch and that this post is a very broad generalisation), anyway, the Eastern European strippers can be said to be intoxicatingly beautiful, with willowy figures to die for, full breasts, and a work ethic that puts the average homegrown British stripper to shame.  Imagine you are a customer.  You go for a dance with a charming, pretty little girl from Devon, and you will probably spend £20-60 on her.  It's easier to say no, somehow.  However, go for your next dance with an Eastern European stripper, and you will blow double that.  Go with a Romanian that puts the exotic into exotic dancer, and you won't even have dances - she will lead you straight into VIP, and avail you of at least £150.  I truly wish I knew what they said, and how they did this, as I could then be writing this post from a nice beach-hut in the Caribbean.  I suspect that the enduring fascination with Eastern European strippers is that so many of their kindred feature prominently in porn movies, so bits of them look erringly similar to what the average bloke jacked off to when he was younger, or even last night's secretive fumble whilst the missus was putting the kids to bed.....