While part of this story is true, the bulk of it is fantasy. Names have been changed
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In my younger days I worked as a balloon telegram stripper to help ends meet. A tall, skinny boy of twenty-three, my body hadn't started filling out yet. My 'shtick' was to dress in a tuxedo with tied bowtie, and strip down to a G-string with a mini tuxedo on the front. Being naked in front of others didn't bother me, but full-frontal male nudity was illegal in town, so we went with the G-string to comply with the law.
The lady who owned the telegram business initially hired me for singing telegrams, but then got an offer for a male stripper. I'd never done anything like this, so the boss suggested I come over to her house one evening and try out the new 'service' for her and her friends. The boss was an older woman, thrice divorced, in her late forties. She was still incredibly attractive, slender, and athletic. Her short blonde hair was cute and framed her face well. She typically wore loose fitting shirts but tight jeans showing her shapely ass off to great effect.
When I arrived at the house, my boss opened the door. I was already dressed in my tuxedo. She saw me and exclaimed, "Ooh, John, nice look. The formal really works. Come in, have a drink or two before we get started to relax."
I stepped into her living room filled with a half-dozen ladies ranging from early twenties to somewhere in their fifties. My boss introduced me to all of them, but other than her daughter, a year younger than me, I couldn't tell you any of their names. Lindsey, the daughter, who was also a partner in the telegram business, was spunky, with her blonde hair styled into spikes on top and close cropped on the sides. Like her mother, she was athletic, filling out her tight t-shirt with soft, round c-cup breasts.
My boss offered me a glass of wine and I sat there with a room full of women talking about the day's events, news, weather, what new items some store had on display in their shop window—nothing memorable. As I sipped my wine, I thought they might want to talk about my stripping, why I was doing it, or other questions about me, but it I was just another generic person in the room.
Faster than I expected, my glass was empty, and Lindsey quickly refilled it. I'm not much of a drinker. I couldn't tell you when I'd last had two glasses of wine in a night, but it had been a while. It was helping me relax, thought. When I arrived, I was nervous as a cornered cat, but after the innocuous conversation and two glasses of wine, I felt as if this was just a normal evening with friends—albeit friends I really didn't know.
After the second glass, my boss asked me if I wanted another. But one of the ladies chimed in, "Don't get him too drunk, or it might affect the show."
Oh, yeah, the show. I was here to put on a show.
The boss agreed and ushered me, out of the living room into a guest bedroom. "Ok, are you ready to do this?"
"Yes," I relied starting to get nervous again.
"Do you have the music? Are you wearing the G-string?"
"Check and check."
"Ok, when you go out, pick a woman to make her the focus of the show. It doesn't matter whom—well, as long as it's not me, but we want to see how your show looks in terms of a target."
"Got it. Why not you?"
"I want to watch as a bystander, see what others might feel like watching the show. These strips are always going to be public. The point is, you're there to embarrass the person getting the telegram, so there will always be people watching. I want to see what the show looks like from that perspective."
"Ah, ok. I'm ready."
"Give me five or so minutes, then come out." She left and the butterflies appeared in my stomach full force.
When I strode into the room, I chose the woman on the far side. She was sitting in a dining room chair in the corner beside the sofa. Part of me wanted to perform for the daughter, but she was sitting on the sofa and I didn't think I could do enough to embarrass her without climbing on the sofa. There was another woman and my boss on the sofa as well, so too many people to really focus on one. The woman in the chair was in her thirties, with longer dark hair. The bangs hung over her forehead giving her a shy appearance. I felt she was likely to blush more than I would.
I set the boom box on the floor in the area between the living room and dining room, then strode over the dark-haired girl in the corner. "Hello, I have a treat for you today." As if on cue, the other women cheered and the poor girl in the chair glowed a bright red. Her dark brown eyes looked up at me, huge and extremely dilated. I reached out with both hands. She slowly, reluctantly put her fingers lightly on mine. With a gentle tug, I got to a standing position in front of her chair. "Ok, now stay here. I'll be right back."
Back at the boombox, I pushed the button to start the tape, the quintessential stripper's music began. I had practiced this at home to work out just how quickly I needed to undo everything in time with the music. I reached out to my subject for her hands again. This time guiding them to my shoulders just underneath my jacket to help me slide it off. Her hands pushed the jacket back off my shoulders, as I dropped my arms, letting the jacket fall. Snagging the collar of the jacket with one hand, I whirled it around and handed it to my target.
I stepped over to her and started to undo the buttons on my vest. She was holding the jacket in front of her, waist high, which allowed me to lightly glide the backs of my hands against her breasts as they slid down my vest. Her eyes were following my fingers, but she didn't step away. Once the vest was unbuttoned, I slid it off and slipped in around behind her to put the arm holes over her shoulders. Holding on to the front of the vest, I pulled her closer to me, pressing my chest to hers. She instinctively looked up as my lips headed toward hers. Just before our lips met, I pulled away, put my hands on her shoulders and guided her back to the chair.
Next off was the bowtie. It was a tied tie, rather than a clip on, so I could leave the tails of the tie hanging about my neck as I started to undo my shirt buttons. As my fingers unbuttoned my shirt, I slid onto the woman's lap straddling her legs (my coat draped over her legs). I let my breathing be all in my chest, allowing it to heave up and down as my shirt opened for her.
The other women were cheering so loudly, it was hard to hear the music. I kept going in what I thought was the right pace, hoping I wouldn't finish much before the music did.
When my shirt was undone, I reached down to take her hands again and put them on my chest. Still exaggerating my breathing, I could tell her breath was matching mine. Her fingers softly landed on my chest as I gently moved her wrists with my fingers, up toward my shoulders, then down to my sternum, then back up to my neck. Her eyes followed her fingers until they got to my neck, in which they continued to rise to meet mine.
The crowd roared, "Kiss him!" I could tell she wanted to, and I moved slightly closer to her to suggest we might, then slid off her legs to stand again.
My hands went to my trousers' zipper as I stepped back, pulling off one shoe, then the next. My shirt, open at the front, was blocking the view of the other ladies in the room. This was a private show for my subject. I undid my tuxedo trousers and slid both hands into the front of trousers. Opening my hands, I showed her my abdomen and the thin trail of hair from my belly button to my crotch. My pubic hair was really long, so strands of it were peering out above the zipper as well.
I turned around showing my open trousers to the women in the room, while wiggling my ass at my target. The cheers erupted again. Moving my hands to my waist, I slid the trousers over my ass, then down to the floor. The tail of my shirt hung below my ass, so my target couldn't see my ass, but the women in room caught their first glimpse of my tuxedo G-string. Rocking my hips forward I looked down, pulled on the strands of public hair, and smiled at the ladies. More cheers.
Really enjoying the attention, I'd forgotten all about being nervous. It was all about the show. But I was also enjoying the attention. My cock, when relaxed is normally small and reclusive, was beginning to throb. I didn't have an erection yet but was definitely thinking about it.
