Mr. Big

1. Elephant Men

The audition was in this club, just out of town. It was a Friday afternoon, so I was missing football training -- again -- and hoping I could get away without being late for the diner. I wasn't sure how to dress, so in the end, I just put on a t-shirt and jeans. When I got there, two guys were already waiting. I thought I recognized them from the campus. They both went in, but I didn't see them come back. I wondered whether there was maybe some giant female machine inside that grabbed them by the cock, chewed them up and spat out the pieces.

Just after the second guy went in, a black dude arrived. He grinned at me and sat down beside me. "Hey man, my name's Reuben. Who are you?"

"I'm Tommy. Pleased to meet you." We shook hands, which seemed oddly formal, given the fact that on the other side of the door, I guessed we'd be expected to take our clothes off and show our dicks.

"You done this before?"

"Nah. You?"

"Sure. I worked at their club in Vegas last year. But then I came down here to start my studies."

"So you're at the University?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Yeah. But -- how come you were stripping last year? Surely you weren't old enough?"

"Oh, I'm twenty, nearly twenty-one. No, I started college a little late. It had a lot to do with money."

"Yeah, money. That's why I'm here. The diner doesn't pay enough for the hours I have to spend there."

"Right. But in the Vegas club, most of the guys were black. The ladies like to see big cocks. I don't mean to be, like, racist, but are you sure you've got what it takes, white boy?"

"Oh yes," I replied with a smug smile.

"So what you got? Eight inches?"

"Bigger."

"Oh really? See, I'm packing ten. So can you measure up, white boy?" I could have been offended, but he said it with such a friendly smile that I assumed he was just joshing.

"Sorry, my friend, but you don't even feature."

"You're shitting me, man! I ain't never seen a white cock that's bigger than mine, and I worked the club for nearly eight months."

"Believe me, my friend. I'm bigger."

He looked impressed. Then a kind of sly grin appeared on his face. He looked around, even though the room was empty. "Well, if you really ain't shitting me, then I may have an idea for you. See, they like to play us all off against one another. It helps to keep their costs down and their profits up. But if we went in there as a double-act, with my ten inches and your --

allegedly

-- bigger dick, we could dictate our own terms. What do you think?"

"What I think is that I need a piss. I'm just going to head for the restroom over there, and you can explain your plan when I get back."

And when I got back, things had changed a little. Three unpleasant-looking white guys had arrived, and they were standing around Reuben. What they were saying didn't sound too friendly.

"Look, nigger. We don't need your sort around here. Get your fucking black ass outta here right now or it's gonna get busted all over this room." Rueben looked concerned.

"Hey guys, is there a problem?" I didn't like the look of how this was going.

"Hey buddy, just stay outta this," their apparent leader said, barely glancing around. "We just need to get the nigger out of here so the real men can get the jobs we deserve."

"Oh, so you've come here for the restroom-cleaning job, have you? They sure need a clean, so you'd better get in there real quick."

The asshole-in-chief turned around, trying to look menacing, and then realized that I was around nine inches taller than him and a lot stronger.

"Look buddy, I don't know what your beef is, but stay out of this. It's between us and the nigger."

"So let me see; the three of you are worth one black man? Seems about right to me. Only if you don't fuck off and get outta that door in say -- oh, ten seconds -- I'm gonna start ripping you apart one at a time. See, I don't like racist assholes, and it's time I revised my martial arts skills, so this is the ideal opportunity to spread your ugly fucking faces across the floor. Who wants to be first? How about you, mouth on fucking legs?" I took up a classic martial arts pose. I was relieved to see Reuben get up and pick up a chair.

But it was amazing how quickly the three assholes realized that none of them wanted to see whether I did know the martial arts moves I claimed. When the door slammed shut, on their departing taunt of 'nigger-lover', I relaxed. In reality, I was shaking. I could easily have dealt with the lead-asshole, but if his buddies had joined in at the same time, I may have taken on more than I could handle.

However, Reuben was grinning from ear to ear. "Hey, man, you is the absolute

boss!

Shit, I thought that was gonna turn very ugly, but you sure as hell kicked ass there. Would you really have creamed those assholes?"

"I would have tried, but three against one is a big ask."

"Three against

two

, partner," he said, indicating the chair he'd just put down, and then sticking out his hand again. "Thank you, my friend. Look man, have you ever stripped before?"

I remembered taking my clothes off for Justine, and for The Scottsdale Sluts. "Kinda. But not, like, for a real audience."

"Cool. Let me give you a few pointers. And when we get called, we go in together and I do the talking. Right?"

* * * * *

We stood in front of a table. Behind it were two older men and a middle-aged woman. She had the right look to be a member of The Scottsdale Sluts, if she'd known that particular group existed. I would've fucked her -- and I guessed she might have enjoyed it. Unfortunately, they all looked bored.

"OK, so you've told us you're a double-act, er," the gray-haired guy on the left said, looking down at some paper in front of him. "Yeah, Reuben and Tommy. Tell me more."

"Well, sir, we're The Men They Couldn't Hang." I had no idea what Reuben was talking about, but I let him do what he was best at -- talking bullshit.

"The Men They Couldn't Hang? What the fuck's that about?"

"Well sir, it's because we're already hung."

"Very funny. Well if you think that's the case, maybe you could show us what you've got?"

"Sure. Do you have any music?"

"What do you want?"

"How about Robert Palmer's 'Addicted to Love'?" Reuben looked at me and winked. I guessed this had to be standard strippers' music.

"Yes. Francine, would you put that on for these gentlemen?" It was then that I noticed a rather cute young woman at the back of the room. Without speaking, she went to a small hi-fi unit, slipped in a CD -- a CD, for fuck's sake! -- and the music started to play.

Outside in the waiting room, Reuben had taken me through a few basic moves. I tried to remember the steps -- or, basically, wiggles -- that seemed essential. We turned. We twirled our asses in time. We fucking

twerked!

We flipped our t-shirts off. We posed.

The guys didn't seem much more interested, but the lady in the middle -- and the girl at the back of the room -- definitely seemed to be paying attention. Reuben had a good body -- nice pecs and a good six-pack -- and I was confident that women liked what they saw when I took my shirt off. Some clearly liked what they saw when I took my pants off. Others not so much.

We turned our backs to our audience and kinda twerked a little more. "OK, boy, you'd sure better be packing what you say," Reuben half-whispered to me, as we unfastened out pants, unzipped -- and turned.

The look on the lady's face said it all. Neither Reuben's ten-inch dick nor my nearly-twelve-incher were fully hard. The environment wasn't really what you'd call 'conducive'. But while we'd been doing our own bump 'n' grind to the music, I'd tried hard to conjure mental images of some of the hottest, sexiest things I'd done. Fucking Loretta the first time, and fucking Kristy the only time. Watching Bernice's face while she was coming, and Rosa's when she first caught sight of the size of my cock. Feeling Justine coming for the fourth time, even as she was begging me to stop. Getting deep-throated by Janet, and hearing Annika scream as I fucked her brains out. So when we turned around, our pants unzipped and our cocks on display, I had maybe ten inches of meat showing. For the people watching, it seemed to be enough.

"Oh my fucking God!" I heard the lady breathe. While I guess she saw inches of thick, meaty dick, the two guys clearly had an immediate vision of dollar signs. The girl at the back was wide-eyed.

"OK, guys. Now I see why you call yourselves 'The Men They Couldn't Hang'."

"Shit, I think you could call yourselves The Elephant Men! Those aren't cocks, they're trunks!" The lady was clearly impressed.

One of the men said "I think we may be able to use you. I suggest you pay us fifteen bucks an appearance -- each." Shit! I was getting

paid

ten bucks an hour at the diner. If I had to pay more than that to take my clothes off, I wasn't sure I wanted this job.

"You can suggest it, and we can suggest where you stick that offer." Reuben moved to tuck his cock back inside his pants. "Tommy, I think we can do better elsewhere."

"Er, look, guys, not so fast. You'll earn maybe a couple of hundred a night in tips, and you can keep half."

"Half? Oh, mister, do we look totally stupid? Our brains are a lot bigger than our dicks. You need us for your club. We'll be the star attraction -- isn't that right, ladies?" The woman was blushing, but I could see her eyes swiveling between our two, exposed cocks. The girl at the back still seemed to be in shock. I imagined fucking both of them, alternately, until they screamed. That made my cock get even harder.

"What do you suggest?" The guy on the right seemed to want to strike a deal. I kept my mouth shut and tried to make eye contact with the lady at the front. She seemed to be more interested in making eye contact with a thick lump of meat that was swaying, semi-erect, a few feet in front of her face.

"So here's the deal. We pay you nothing -- that's zero dollars -- to perform here. We'll fill your club every night we're on. You'll make so much money you won't know how to spend it, which is why you'll let us keep

all

of our tips. We'll perform two, maybe three nights a week. Y'know, we're only young and we need to get our beauty sleep. And any extras -- back-room stuff -- we'll pay you twenty an hour for. Deal?"

"That's completely irregular. None of the other performers get that kind of deal."

"Sure, but we're not like any of your other performers. I know -- I've worked your clubs before. Ladies will drive down from Vegas to see us. Between us, we have around twenty inches of dick..."

"Twenty-two," I said.

"Twenty-two inches of hot, hard, fucking dick. That's what your ladies are looking for. You tell me that your customers don't want to see -- and play around with -- obscenely big cocks? Fuck, man, they don't come more obscenely big than mine and Tommy's. So, draw up the motherfucking contract, and you'll find you have the biggest attraction -- and I do mean the motherfucking

biggest

-- for ladies across the whole 50 states --

and

DC and Puerto Rica."

* * * * *

Reuben opened two beers and passed me one. "To The Men They Couldn't Hang. Long may we swing!"

I took a sip.

"Reuben, you were amazing in there."

"Yeah, well the motherfuckers want to screw you over, so you gotta try to screw them back. Now, that lady in the middle, she looked like she could handle a lot of screwing!"

"True." I took another sip of beer. "I also liked the one at the back. She was cute. But I'm still not sure about paying to strip. I mean, I'm desperate to find something that pays better than the diner where I work now, but tips only..."

"Tommy, my friend, please do pardon me, but you have no fucking idea. Look, the tips for the main performances, the twenty-dollar lap dances, the private lap dances for maybe four or five times that -- plus a lot more for any back-room services they ask for -- you'll get much more than a server ever earns."

"And by 'back-room services', I guess you mean..."

"Anything the lady wants -- for an agreed price. Now sometimes that ain't too much fun. She might be old and fat and ugly, but you just gotta treat her like a princess for maybe a half-hour or an hour, and you get a hundred, two, maybe even three hundred bucks. One fuck and you make more than you get in a night's pay at the diner. Of course, the house wants a cut, but I negotiated that down to thirty for an hour, so even if the ladies ain't too generous -- and given what

we

got, I don't think that'll be a problem -- then we're gonna clear at least a hundred bucks per fuck." Reuben's opening offer of twenty bucks for an hour's use of the club's back rooms hadn't gone down well -- they clearly realized that they would make some of their best money by taking a cut from every fuck conducted on their premises -- but he'd done well to keep it to thirty. I was impressed by his bargaining skills. I wondered if I'd ever learn anything like that on my business course.

But maybe my experience with women was a little different from Reuben's. "You know, Reuben, I kinda like older ladies. They're fun and more -- er --

accommodating.

"

Reuben laughed. "Tommy, my friend, with that horse cock o' yours, I can see how it may take a bit of

accommodating.

Yeah, I know what you mean. Some older ladies I've fucked, they were so hot and dirty I found it real hard to stop from comin' too soon. But we'll get all sorts. I've done bachelorette parties, college sororities, spring break groups, divorce parties -- all kinds. Some of the women are seriously hot. You wonder why they need to pay to come to a club to see big nigga dick when they just have to walk into a bar in the right part of town -- or maybe the wrong part -- and they'd have a line around the block of guys wanting to show them some."

Reuben and I finished our beers, then he introduced me to his strippers' wardrobe. He showed me how to remove the tear-off pants. He had some t-shirts made of some kind of paper that just ripped off. Then there was a firefighter outfit, a kinda-'police' uniform, a construction-worker hard hat and cowboy stuff. "You're gonna have to get yo'self some matchin' outfits, boy. Let's order them straight away so's yo' ready to start next week." We went back to his computer and he pulled up some websites, and I used my credit card to buy a few outfits that looked like they'd fit me. I thought that with the money I'd made from The Scottsdale Sluts, I could afford them.

"Hey, Reuben, I'd rather not have the whole of the University know that I'm a stripper. Could we, like, wear masks?"

He thought for a moment. "I guess we could wear, like, those Zorro or Lone Ranger masks with the cowboy stuff -- that would kinda go well with the name -- and maybe big shades with the rest. But does it worry you that much? I mean, are you afraid of being known as the guy with the biggest dick in college?"

I pulled a face. "See, it's been a little difficult at times, with girls. Sure, I love to fuck, and it seems when I find the right -- or maybe the

wrong

-- kind of woman, I can get as much pussy as I can handle. But, like, I don't want to be seen as

just

the guy with the biggest dick. I want to get to know girls, be friends with them and have a relationship, not just a quick fuck with a girl who wants to try my dick for size on a dare."

Reuben laughed. "Hey man, how old are you? Eighteen? You must be some weird mother. There's a whole world of pussy out there, just waiting for you to fill it up. When the bitches find out how big your dick is, you gonna find a whole long line of lovely ladies looking for a main meal o' your man-meat. Hey -- you like the rap, man?" He grinned. "Once you've had an audience, got yo'self a few bachelorette and divorce parties, you gonna need a spreadsheet to keep track of all the pussy you get to sample. If you

really

looking for a

re-lation-ship,

" he mouthed the word as if it was distasteful, "then choose one o' them. Or the hundred mo' you gonna get to fuck next year, and the year after that. And don' forget; you said some chicks can't take yo' dick, so if you

really

,

really

want a

re-lation-shit,

" this time with even more disgust, "you better pick one that wants a dick of yo' size, and not one you can never get inside. Just sayin', y'all."

I thought about Brianna. And Minnie. And Paula. And Donna. And Rosa. And the other cute girls I'd known at school who all took one look and said 'no'. Well, maybe Brianna might have said yes. I mean, Kristy did, and she seemed to enjoy it. And Rosa was kinda saying 'maybe'. But I could see that Reuben was right. I could stick with The Scottsdale Sluts and Justine, and perhaps Loretta again next time I went home, and that would be fun. But I would never find a girl my own age unless they first had a good look at what they were getting themselves into -- or, rather, what was getting into them -- and liked what they saw.

I thanked Reuben for the beer, and the advice and guidance, and I agreed to meet up again on Sunday to rehearse our act. I was hoping that the outfits would have been delivered by then, so we could prepare for our debut the following weekend.

But first, I had to quit my job at the diner.

I arrived about ten minutes early, and went straight to Charlie's office.

"Hey Charlie. Can we talk, please?"

He smiled at me. "Sure kid. What is it? Pattie been giving you a hard time over those cougars you brought in? Don't pay her no mind. I'm cool with it."

"No, Charlie. It's just, I need to quit, and I wanted to give you a little notice."

The smile left his face. "Quit? What's wrong, Tommy? Am I not paying you enough? I can probably afford to give you another raise if that's it."

"No, Charlie. I've found another job and I start next weekend."

"So you're moving to another joint. Where is it?"

"It's not a restaurant or diner. It's something completely different."

"So what?"

"I'd rather not say."

"You getting paid as a gigolo for those ladies you keep bringing in?" It wasn't strictly true that I 'kept bringing them in', except that they'd originally arrived because of the life-size cut-out of me Charlie had stuck up outside, but I let it pass.

"No, Charlie. But it's a job where I don't have to wait tables, and I only have to work two nights a week, so I'll have more time for my studies. I really appreciate you giving me the job, and I've enjoyed working here, but it's taking up too much time and it's only just paying the bills."

Charlie looked pissed. "So there's nothing I can do to persuade you to stay?"

"No. But if it helps, I'll ask around at the University to see if any other guys would be interested."

"Sure, sure." He looked despondent.

"Look, I'll work tonight and tomorrow, and if you like I'll do Wednesday as well. And I'll see if I can get some extra customers in for those nights."

His face softened, but still looked sad. "Thanks, kid. You know, I appreciate what you've done here. If you can find another good-looking guy from college, that would help. And if the new job doesn't work out, you'd be welcome to come back."

"Thanks, Charlie. I appreciate that." I went out to break the news to Rosa and Pattie. Both looked shocked.

"Tommy, we need you here. You know you're the big attraction -- you and Rosa, that is. How're we gonna bring the customers in without you?"

"I'll see if I can find another guy to fill my place."

"Are you off to fill someone else's place? Or at least a part of them?" Rosa looked even more pissed than Charlie.

"Guys, I'm afraid I can't tell you where I'm going, but I won't be waiting tables. I'll still be around tonight and tomorrow, and Charlie may want me to work on Wednesday, so we can still see a little more of each other."