Just the single-word title of one of the films I reviewed this week is a trigger for all sorts of fantasies and fears. Unfaithful is actually a great piece of sensuous lesbian erotica, but doesn't that word bring up a delicious mix of passion and naughtiness, along of course with a hefty dose of anxiety and guilt?

I was chatting to a guy at a company party this week who considered lapdancing as being unfaithful to a partner. Company dos are often awkward, as there are a mix of guys used to seeing each other in a business environment, unsure how far to let their hair down and sometimes getting far too drunk too quickly in order to cover that awkwardness. There may also be several among them who didn't want to come to a lapdance event or club, but couldn't get out of it. This was one such man. He told me firmly that to have a lapdance would be a betrayal of his wife and baby son. I respected that view - I'd much rather someone be self-aware and strong enough to say 'no’ than feel peer-pressurised into it, seriously uncomfortable throughout it then guilty afterwards.

I personally don't see lapdancing as being unfaithful. Appreciation of another body's form and the building and sharing of erotic energy is wonderful for both sides and can 'turn you on' in a wider sense than a sexual way. Who hasn't had an extra spring in their step for the rest of the day following a shared flirtatious look and smile from a stranger on the way to work? A visit to a strip pub can do the same thing. Plus, it's unlikely to go any further. As I explained to the guy at the party, if you're in a monogamous relationship, a lapdance club is a safe place to get an erotic thrill away from your usual partner, as it's one place you're pretty guaranteed NOT to pull. Flirting with someone in a normal club or bar is far more risky, as five pints and an hour and a half later could find you in a cab back to her place or in the toilets for a quickie. That’s not going to happen in a strip venue. We'll get you all worked up, then hopefully you go home and shag your girlfriend silly. I like to think I'm helping the sex lives of my partnered-up customers.

Like everything there are shades of grey though. The guy who tells you in one breath "my girlfriend would kill me if she knew I was here" then in the next tries to persuade you to give him your number "so we can meet up and have some fun" is a cheat. Spending the money you put in your wallet to buy your girlfriend's anniversary present is also wrong.

It could be argued that lying about where you've been all evening is worse than the act of watching strippers itself. There are men who don't need to lie - whose wives or girlfriends know they come to strip pubs. They'll answer their phones sat at the bar, instead of hurriedly rushing out of the pub. One regular of mine has one evening a week where the wife asks no questions when he gets home (she gets to enjoy the same liberty), and from everything he's said about the other six nights a week they have one of the best relationships of anyone I know, despite having been married almost 40 years. Another refers to his wife as 'The Boss' - you get the impression she has a clear idea of where he might be but knows ultimately she is the Alpha in the family and he will come running the instant she snaps her fingers.

Some couples make watching strippers an activity they do together. Sundays seem particularly popular for couples at Sunset Strip in Soho. We had one thirty-something couple come in loaded with shopping bags from Harmony and Ann Summers, who cuddled and giggled and watched the show for an hour and a half before leaving arms wrapped around each other - you can bet they had a great time when they got home. I love performing for couples, and you'll find most dancers treat this sensitively (focus on the woman, be playful not full-on, and smiley not pouty).

Of course there are exceptions - when the Pussycat Dolls song Don't Cha (Wish Your Girlfriend Was Hot Like Me) was in the charts it was heydey for the ego-power-trip strippers. The worst use of it I saw was on a nervous young couple, again at Sunset Strip on a Sunday, who over the course of half an hour had gradually moved from the back row of seats to the front. The guy was holding the girl's hand and watching her rather than the dancers most of the time, smiling at her whenever she glanced at him, and seeming totally focused on her being comfortable. Finally she was relaxed and enjoying the show. I'd been onstage and made her smile, giggle, and even got a tip from her. Then the next girl prances on to the tune of Don't Cha and proceeds to give a full-on pelvis-thrusting, lip-licking, boob-squeezing performance directed at the guy. Not surprisingly they left. I just wish the couple had seen the irony - that in fact the girlfriend was much hotter than the dancer (not one of Sunset's finest) - and laughed in her face.

Part 2 of this article coming soon