The two women stood side by side in the far left aisle, scanning the mostly unpopulated little auditorium, each trying to fine tune her eyesight in the sparse light. The room was just barely large enough for six or seven rows of maybe a dozen chairs each...small wooden folding chairs, each of which appeared to have survived - barely - several natural disasters of cataclysmic proportions. They appeared lucky to be able to still stand...let alone support the weight of a human body.
The small stage at the front of the room seemed barely able to accommodate two or three people, with tired old red curtains (that looked more brownish pink than red) pulled and tied to the sides. An old style standup microphone with coils of electrical cord curling from its base and then meandering off the right side of the stage beyond the tied curtains, was the sole occupant of the scuffed wooden stage. Between the drab, pulled back curtains, in the center of the backdrop of the stage, was a hand painted sign, about six foot square, that boldly proclaimed, "Dom DeLuca's Dazzling Dick - the cock with a mind of its own!" Below the bold black letters was a cartoon drawing of a broadly smiling penis wearing a graduation cap, sprouting Popeye muscles on its stick figure arms, one hand of which held a tiny sign that said "Catch me if you can!". Only the occasional stage hand - grubby and hungry looking - wandered about.
"I can't believe you talked me into this, Lorraine. How on Earth did you even find this place?" Penny asked, her eyes wide and her face flushed with both excitement and embarrassment.
"Oh, puh-leeeze, Penny," Lorraine laughed, "this is the Big Apple. You can find anything here. You of all people, a journalist, ought to know that."
"Journalist," Penny scoffed, "I write an itsy-bitsy entertainment column for an underground newspaper that no one even knows exists. At last count our circulation was, what? a hundred? We burn more copies than we sell." She laughed, but Lorraine knew that Penny's writing talent, though virtually unknown to the world, was a source of both pride and satisfaction for her. And her frustration at not being able to break into the big time was a constant disappointment to her.
"Well, Miss Entertainment," she chuckled, "when you write about this little caper, your paper is going to get a really big buzz in a hurry. In fact, by telling the...um...owner of the show, that you're a reporter, I managed to get these babies." She held up two small yellow stubs, with the words "Backstage" and "Press" on them, along with some coded numbers. Penny's eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped.
"Are you shitting me?!! You have backstage passes to this...a sex show? And you got them by saying we're the press?! Oh, please, Lor...tell me this is all just a bad dream, and not another one of your crazy schemes."
"No dream, hon. After we watch Mr. Dick display his wares, we get to go backstage and get the real scoop. All up close and personal like. And if this guy is as billed, I can't wait to see his 'wares' up close and personal like." Her laugh was contagious, and Penny ended up laughing along with her, even against her own will.
More movement was beginning all around them. The small stage about thirty feet in front of them began to bustle with preparations. Both the women were amazed preparations were needed at all, considering the nature of the show. They looked at each other with what-preparations-could-possibly-be-needed? looks on their faces and laughed so hard they almost snorted. But one of the grubby ones tapped and performed the "testing, testing" routine on the microphone, making sure all was well. As he walked away from it, he stopped briefly to vehemently stomp on something crawling on the stage. Lorraine and Penny had no desire to know what it was.
As more audience members began filtering into the dimly lit auditorium to find their shaky seats, the two women slowly walked up to the front row and sat on two relatively stable chairs at the center of it. Penny was still glowing red with her embarrassment.
"God, I hope no one I know comes here tonight," she said.
"Oh, c'mon, Pen....it's just a sex show. Some guy is gonna dazzle us with his big schlong and do some tricks with it, I guess, and then we'll 'interview' him," she poked Penny in the ribs with her elbow as she said this, "after which we'll go home and put batteries in our vibrators. C'mon...lighten up. We could both use a laugh or two."
"I suppose you're right," Penny sighed, though she still had her doubts. Lorraine's cockeyed plans always seemed to end badly. But, what the hell, she thought...she'd watch some guy play with himself and maybe even write up the whole thing for her paper. No one would read it anyway, she thought, a heavy sigh puffing slowly from between her lips.
The seats were mostly full by the time the two women had traded dick jokes and discussed how they were going to "interview" Mr. Dick as they called him. They giggled like young girls as they then listened to other audience members joking and snickering, the sounds blending and blurring into a nervous murmur.
Then the lights dimmed to almost complete darkness. A spotlight beamed down from above, missed the microphone in the center of the stage by several feet, and was quickly adjusted to surround it. A sweaty looking, bald, fat man shambled onto the stage, wiping sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. He grabbed the microphone in an equally sweaty palm and spoke into it, tapping on it with his forefinger three times first.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the gravelly voice rasped, "you're about to see the most amazing thing you've ever seen...or should I say 'dazzling'?!" He laughed as he turned and looked at the sign behind him, as if he'd been clever. "You're going to meet one Dominick DeLuca, a personal friend of mine, who's going to show you something that will astound you, amaze you....make the men envious, and the women swoon." He paused for effect, peering into the darkness of the audience. Not being able to see the faces to ascertain their responses, he continued his spiel.
"Mr. DeLuca, my friend, has been given a gift. He has been given a....excuse me, ladies...a cock that can do amazing," again he corrected himself, "I mean, dazzling things. You'll find yourselves wondering it it's real. I assure you, it is. You'll be amazed. You'll be filled with awe and wonder. Ladies...you'll want to take Mr. DeLuca home with you. Gentleman...you'll feel inadequate with your wives and lovers tonight, so maybe you shouldn't look too closely." Here, he laughed a snickering laugh, and his belly jiggled like rippling water. "But," he continued, "not one of you will leave here the same as you came in tonight. Every one of you will be...heh heh heh...touched in some way by my friend's...gift. You'll never again look at another penis without thinking of Mr. DeLuca's unbelievable...uh.....member. You can take my word for that! And now", he concluded, "without further ado....ladies and gentlemen...meet Mr. Dom DeLuca and his Dazzling Dick!!"
The little fat man waved his arm dramatically to his right, a sweat stain under his arm bellowing its presence in the glare of the spotlight. From behind the pulled back curtain, a well built man of about thirty years slowly walked onto the stage. He wore only red boxing trunks with two white stripes along each hip, and white and black sneakers, sans socks, brand indiscernible.
As he walked to the microphone, Lorraine and Penny stared...and almost drooled. He was a handsome man, with a strong, muscular chest and washboard abs. His arms were solid, piledriving machines, as were his thighs, which had the most well defined muscles either woman had ever seen. As her eyes took this all in, Penny's mind clicked and whirred, creating a slightly taller version of Rocky Balboa. In fact, he did indeed look like a boxer, and even facially resembled the cinematic pugilist. Even his face, when Penny was able to take her eyes off his chest, looked like it should be yelling, "Yo, Adrien!" No doubt, the boxing shorts were a hook to take advantage of that very resemblance.
With their tongues hanging out, Lorraine and Penny heard Dominick speak...and that was where the resemblance ended. Gone was the slack-lipped, unintelligible slurring of the movie character. This man sounded very educated. And the two lolling tongues hung that much lower.
"Uh....hello, everyone," the deep, resonant voice said, "I'm Dom DeLuca. I'm thirty-five years old and I try very hard to keep myself in shape. I was born and raised right here in good ol' New York City, though I've thankfully escaped the 'Noo Yawk' accent that so many folks around us seem to have. I'm single and would like...
" He was interrupted by the fat man, who yelled in a failed whisper to him, "Get on with the show, Dom...we have another set to do in ninety minutes!"
"Oh...yeah....the show," Dom said with a smile, "Sorry, Lenny. Okay...yeah....well, you're all here to see why my....um....sorry, ladies....why my dick is called 'dazzling'. Well, you see, I learned way back in my teens that my...dick...had, well...talents. I mean, other than the usual, you know...pleasing the ladies." He actually blushed! Lorraine and Penny, and probably most of the women in the room, were falling in love! And not one of them really cared what his dick's talents were....though they were curious.
"Well, it's like this," the Rocky lookalike continued, "it's not that my dick has a brain of its own or anything, but I can make it do things. Actually, almost anything I want to. I can make it grow or shrink a lot faster than the normal erection process or...um...deflating time a man usually experiences. I can make it shoot up to full proportions in no time at all, or make it...um....shrink at the same speed. That last one comes in handy if I'm turned on in an embarrassing situation, that's for sure! Anyway, I can also make it pulse, throb, actually expand or contract in either length or thickness, make it vibrate, rotate or even bend in the middle. To make a long story short," he stopped to laugh at the unintended pun, "I can make my dick do almost anything I want it to. And, that's about it, really." He looked to his right, obviously turning things back over to the sweaty Lenny.
On cue, Lenny came shuffling out to center stage. Dom handed him the microphone and stepped back a few steps.
