Back in the 80’s, when I was still in my twenties, I used to earn extra money as a male stripper and escort. I hasten to add that I was a real professional escort. Since I had a master’s degree and am a pretty good public speaker and “schmoozer,” I was often in demand to escort single women to company picnics, formal Black tie functions at the ballet, etc. More on that part-time gig in other stories. This story is about my part time work as a stripper.
I worked as part of a troupe that performed on Wednesdays at a big club in our area, and some occasional weekend performances. I wasn’t the most buff of the guys, but I was a really good dancer, and did almost as well on tips during our big performances. Also, like most of the guys, I had a gimmick, which was an eye patch, and I went by the nickname “Patch.” My motivation for dancing was purely financial: I earned a small flat fee and lots of tips dancing in the clubs and I could sometimes set up individual gigs by dancing. This concerns a bachelorette party I did one weekend.
Private gigs I priced at either $40.00 with tips and minimum of $60.00, or a $60.00 flat fee when there was little possibility of tips. For a normal bachelorette party like this one with about a dozen people, the second option usually made the most sense. It wasn’t a lot of money, (though it was for the 80s) but for perhaps an hour of my time and the thrill of getting a bunch of ladies wet, it was alright with me.
There was an air force base near where I used to live, and I decided to arrive in the costume of an air force recruit.
As the hostess opened the door, she smiled slyly. “Good to see you.” She shot a glance over the shoulder, then looked back. “We’re just about ready. Do you need anything?” I handed her a small duffel bag.
“Not really, but this is a change of clothes you can put away for later.”
“Sure,” she said, and handed me the agreed upon fee. I handed her the bag, and my one hour tape. “Also, just put this tape in on this side,” I pointed to the a side of the tape “when I signal you.” I smiled at her. “Then, just enjoy the show.”
As I started toward the sounds of giggling women, I could hear one say “Fuck that.” This could be fun, I thought. When I got into the room, one of the women saw me, and said, “Shit.” I stammered,
“Excuse me ladies.” Looking down at a letter in my hand, I continued. “I was supposed to report to a Debbie Sanderson for special duty.” I looked up, nervously, “Do I have the wrong address?”
The bride to be’s eyes widened considerably, and she said. “That’s me.” Her eyes narrowed, “Just who are you?”
I looked over my shoulder and caught the hostess’ eye. I nodded and she returned the nod with a smile.
“My name is Patch,” I said softly. “And I have a very important assignment tonight.” Just then my music started. I approached the bride and added, “to give you a gooood time tonight.” With that, I started my dancing. Part of the fun of dancing is basically playing with the audience. I always focus on the bride in bachelorette parties, but I also spend time with every lady, the raunchy ones and the timid ones, to give the hot babes what they want, and help the shy ones feel more at home. It’s always the hot ones who get into it who keep me going and make it fun. It didn’t take the bride long to get into it, and after my third dance, I was down to boxers over a g-string.
I motioned to the host to bring me a chair, and we placed the bride in front of her friends. I danced with my butt in her face, lowering the waistband a little, then back up, teasing her.
“Pull ‘em down, pull ‘em down,” her friends screamed.” She hesitated, and I turned and ever so slightly rubbed my dick against her. While I don’t think her friends saw it, it opened her eyes more and she quickly got into it, grabbing my waistband and playfully slapping my butt. Then, facing away again, I lowered the boxers all the way to expose my butt. Out of nowhere, she kissed my butt cheeks, and I pulled up the boxers again, turning around, and smiling at her broadly. I could see the hostess, who was still standing a distance away, start fanning herself. I guess she didn’t expect this to happen.
Finally, the bride took the boxers down, giving me little strokes as they went down. Usually when I danced, I didn’t get really hard because I was concentrating more on the dancing. The only time I would get a little engorged was when I got tips from the ladies. At this party, like in most for brides to be, the ladies gave half their bills to the bride to put in my g-string, and the other half for themselves. The bride got into it, giving me first one bill, then looking in my eyes as she gave me another, missing the string and rubbing me a little. I don’t mind getting a little hard during my dancing, but there’s a time and place for sportin’ a woody, and it wasn’t time yet.
I went to the other ladies who had bills, and gave them little bumps and grinds as they pulled and snapped my g-string. If you don’t like feeling like a piece of meat, you really shouldn’t be a sripper Even the most straight-laced people expect strippers to be raunchy and respond like little puppies to get a $5 bill. If you don’t have a good self image, you can’t handle it. My self image and my wallet had no problem showin’ off.
The biggest lady, who had the most cleavage I’ve ever seen, was just so horny, it was hard not to poke her in the mouth with my dick. She put $20 in my g-string, and went out of her way to stroke me up and down in front of the other ladies. I got real hard almost immediately, and I could feel her jump a little as she realized how hard I became under her hand. Looking around, I could see that she was the last to want to give me a bill, so I let nature take its course. I usually kiss the ladies lightly when they give me a bill, even though most want to swap some serious spit. I bent down to her mouth, with her hand still on my dick, and gave her a hard kiss, pinching one of her nipples in the process. I could feel her shudder a bit when I pinched her, and she smiled when we broke our kiss. She kept up little strokes of me as I looked her in the eye and said quietly, “Are you ready for me to show it all?” She looked at me with a puzzled look, suddenly realized what I meant, then nodded her head. “Pull it down,” I said. I tensed my dick as I told her, then twisted a bit to face the other ladies. Just then, she pulled the g-string down to the floor, to the gasps, cheers and applause of the other ladies. I reached down to get my g-string, gave her a slow kiss (all the while with my hard dick throbbing up and down for all to see), then thanked the ladies and walked slowly out of the room.
They kept clapping and cheering as I approached the hostess, who without a word, told me that my bag was in her bedroom. She waved a friend over and told her that she would be back in a bit, and that the friend should start the gifts for the bride.
“That was a great show,” she said, as she ushered me into her bedroom. “I didn’t know how far you were going to go,” she added, looking directly at my dick. I smiled.
“It depends on the crowd,” but, I added, “I kinda like to show off, if you know what I mean.” As I said that, I pointed my dick in her direction. She looked hungrily into my eyes. “I can see that.” We stood there for a moment, her alternately looking into my eyes and at my dick, and finally just dropped to her knees, saying, “Shit. I want this,” and stuck my hard dick into her mouth. She sucked me like she hadn’t had any dick for a month. When ladies suck me this hard, it almost lets me last longer, since it’s so raw, and I can get my talk goin’.
“Yeah, this hard dick’s for you babe,” I said, gently holding her head. I looked lower and caught her eye. “Suck it good, babe,” I said. “I got a big load for you.”
“Mmmm. You’re just a slut for me babe, aren’t you?” I could feel her stifle a moan -- I had her then. “Open up your shirt so I can see them titties.” She raced to comply, and I pinched her nipples hard the moment I could reach them, feeling her hot flesh.
