..., laughing. "I like you. You're funny." The song concludes but she keeps dancing on me. She puts her leg up on the table and grinds against me. "You gotta come back," she says. Her friend walks over. "This my new boyfriend," Nikki says to her. "I don't even like Asians, but damn you sexy," her friend says to me.
Twenty Hours in a New York Strip Club | VICE | United States
author
10 years
...o one of the private rooms, far away from everyone else. "You ready?" she says before pushing me down onto a couch and straddling me. She put her boobs in my face and guides my hands down to her ass, catering to me for five minutes straight.
Twenty Hours in a New York Strip Club | VICE | United States
author
10 years
Jessica's hotel is close, a five-minute drive away. When we pull up, she's waiting for us under the chandelier of the hotel's well-lit lobby with the doorman at her side. She has on a thick black coat that obscures her famous curves.
Twenty Hours in a New York Strip Club | VICE | United States
author
10 years
...ved head, strikes a pose, and says, "Ball is life," then collapses into a fit of laughter. Nikki also fills me in on the drama in the club—apparently a dancer from another club has come in tonight and is trying to steal some of the girls' money off the stage—the girls of Show Palace are rightfully pissed.
Twenty Hours in a New York Strip Club | VICE | United States
author
10 years
...es jokes to me and runs her fingers through my hair. She tells me stories of certain guys' less-than-savory behavior during dances—"I looked back and I was like, 'Damn,'[this dude has] a third leg!'" As she dances, she grabs Mike's shaved head, strikes a pose, and says, "Ball is life," then collapses into a fit of laughter. Nikki also fills me in on the drama in the club—apparently a dancer from another club has come in tonight and is trying to steal some of the girls' money off th...
Twenty Hours in a New York Strip Club | VICE | United States
author
10 years
I'm matched up with Nikki, who makes jokes to me and runs her fingers through my hair. She tells me stories of certain guys' less-than-savory behavior during dances—"I looked back and I was like, 'Damn,'[this dude has] a third...
Twenty Hours in a New York Strip Club | VICE | United States
author
10 years
Then she grabs my hand and leads me to a dark corner of the club. In my lap, her gyrations seem to test the limits of human physicality. She's like an Olympian gymnast, using my knees like balance beams. As she moves, she tells me she's only 20 and has been dancing at the Show Palace since she graduated high school. When our song ends...
Twenty Hours in a New York Strip Club | VICE | United States
author
10 years
..."Fre Merlot," "Fre Chardonnay," "Fre Champagne." All fake. The bottle service isn't cheap, either—non-alcoholic champagne costs $100. There's also a full kitchen, pumping out everything from steak to seafood pasta, which I order from a pantless waitress.
Twenty Hours in a New York Strip Club | VICE | United States
author
10 years
...e room—hugging the girls, grabbing their wrists, kissing them on the cheeks, teasing them, complimenting them, or insulting them in jest. One gets so frustrated she lets out an "ughh" and walks away. But the way Mike looks after her betrays a real compassion.
Twenty Hours in a New York Strip Club | VICE | United States
author
10 years
...or is on the stage working the pole to Divinyls's " Touch Myself ." She's slowly stripping for the only customer in the joint, twirling around on the pole and then lying down and twerking her booty as he stuffs singles between her cheeks.
Twenty Hours in a New York Strip Club | VICE | United States
author
10 years
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