I remember the first time I went to a strip club. I lived in a small mid-western college town that was scandalized when a semi-nude bar opened up in a seedy, industrial side of town.

The first time I went it was a thrill, much like the first time you see an R-rated movie. Going to a place where there are real live nude, or semi-nude women, is every young man's fantasy.

Like any adult indulgence, you have to be careful about overdosing on the strip club experience. If you dive straight in, it's easy to get addicted to the sensory pleasure and find yourself going broke.

In my early strip clubs days, I tried to avoid going just after I got paid because I knew I would blow all my money. One of the most dangerous things to happen to the strip club circuit (and to our wallets) is the ATM, which allows the customers to easily drain their bank accounts as they go from lap dance to lap dance.

The smart strip club patron goes in with a set amount of money, and leaves his bank card in the car.

I've spent a lot of time in strip clubs over the years. When you're single and lonely, and don't fancy hitting the club scene, the local nudie bar can seem like an attractive option.

I spent so much time in strip clubs that I began to get very familiar with how they operate, and much like the old saying about sausage, you really don't want to see how it's made.

The first thing that struck me when I got to know some strippers is how they were masters of illusion. When these girls get on stage they turned into sex goddesses, but if you see them at the grocery store in regular clothes, they look like the average girl next door.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: When you're lucky…]

While travelling around the country I realized that there are distinct differences between strip clubs in different regions. I was told from many brothers that the titty bars of Atlanta had to be seen to be believed. After visiting one, I can only describe them as a black man's heaven. Imagine a bunch of big-assed, half-naked women clamoring for your attention.

But over the years, the thrill of the strip club has worn out. I have learned to see through the forced sexuality of the dancers. Of course they act like sex kittens because they are trying to extract money from your pocket. But it is all a giant cock tease. At the end of the day you go home with empty pockets and full balls, and the dancers go home with g-strings full of 20s.

Now I find the whole experience to be juvenile, much like attending a college frat party.

But I've found that if you are looking for an exciting sexual experience, there are other places where you can get more bang for your buck – pun intended!)

And if you browse the Internet you can find plenty of sexually adventurous women who are willing to explore your fantasies for the sheer fun of it.

And you won't need a fist full of dollar bills.

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