I was out of work and the only prospect I'd found was working at a Gentlemen's Club. As long as no one in my family - or most importantly my wife, found out, then I could manage until something better came along.
I needed time to find a more appropriate job so this would just be part time. Thursday through Saturday.
I told my wife I was working at a regular dance club as a bouncer.
So how did it all start? Being unemployed, I was feeling down and I went there to have a couple drinks and see some naked ladies. Just to look.
The marque outside had a schedule which showed what the events were for each night of the week.
Friday was Celebrity Night, Saturday was Couples Night, Sunday was Two for One Night, Monday through Wednesday were Double Dance Nights. Lastly, Thursdays were Ladies Choice Nights. Except in smaller writing underneath the listing for Thursday it said: alternating Thursdays were BDSM Night and every third Thursday was 'Boyz Night'. I didn't notice that. And if I had I wouldn't have known what it meant.
While I was there, some drunk ogre tried getting funny with one of the girls. I intervened and tried to get him to back off, but he kept pawing at her in a highly inappropriate way.
He wouldn't listen to reason. The manager tried to intervene too, but she was short staffed, didn't have a bouncer, and was too small herself.
Now, In all honesty, I'm pretty small too, and had often been picked on, which is why I'd gotten a couple black belts in two martial arts.
So when the guy took a swing at the manager I grabbed his wrist in a classic hold, tied him up with his own arms, and marched him out of the bar.
She was so grateful she begged me to take the job as bouncer. And well, my cash reserves were starting to run out. My first day was the following Friday.
So anyway, I'd been working there for a couple of weeks and I was feeling pretty comfortable, having figured out the lay of the land.
That's when the girls started flirting with me. I think they felt safe knowing I was there and those feelings spilled over in other ways.
I always maintained a professional demeanor and did nothing with any of the staff.
Until I learned that a shit load of extra money could be had putting on shows for private clients.
I wasn't a prostitute because I didn't have sex with the customers. Instead, me and the girls had simulated sex in front of the customers.
I didn't really mind having pretend sex with beatiful strippers, who by the way, like to be called dancers. Though I felt an occasional pinge of guilt when I remembered my wife at home.
The first time I worked on a Thursday it was BDSM Night, which I learned meant that the girls and I would tie each other up for the amusement of the customers. The tips were really good on that night.
Then there were two more weeks of regular nights.
The following Thursday I showed up to work completely unprepared and unaware of what was to come.
I noticed right away that a new girl met me at the door when I arrived. This wasn't completely strange since strippers are pretty unstable and there's often new girls replacing the ones who just stop coming into work.
Heading to the changing room I discovered that none of my friends were there. It was a whole new batch. Now that was strange.
After some introductions I figured the show must go on.
Trixie, the prettiest of the new girls that I'd just met, suggested we team up for our act.
The act normally consisted of me sitting in a chair while the girl danced all around, pole danced, gave me a lap dance, sat on my cock, then blew me until I would shoot on her face for the big finale. Not quite simulated sex but the tips were way bigger.
The important part was the cum shot. The customers expected to see the cum fly - to prove it was 'the real thing'. Which is why I abstained from coming for the two days prior to those nights.
On BDSM Night it was a little different: My regular partner Wanda would tie me to a plank, dance around, do her bit on the pole, blow me, then sit on my face while I was tied down.
The plank was designed so my head tilted quite far back - allowing her to stand while pressing her cunt to my lips.
The most important part of the act was still the cum shot, except I would shoot all over my chest as the dancer ground her cunt all over my lips, wanking me.
So, I was expecting a typical BDSM Night and I was to be tied down for Trixie. A moment before we went on she handed me my costume. It was a blue Little Bo-Peep outfit. I would have objected but the bell rang meaning the team before us were finishing up their act.
I threw on the pleated dress just in time to dash onto the stage. For the beginning of our act the preceding couple pretended to manhandle me onto the plank, fastening the restraints.
My job was to struggle and complain as convincingly as possible.
Then Trixie started dancing on the pole while stripping.
Tonight the announcer called out: "Ladies and gentlemen - tonight we have for your entertainment, Little Blow Peep and her Lost sheep." Now I understood why Trixies costume had white sheep fur on it.
The announcer continued: "Welcome to our special night. It doesn't happen often...you see while tonight is BDSM Night, we have a wonderful confluence of the stars so that tonight is ALSO Boyz Night!"
The crowd went wild. Now, normally we might have fifty customers on a night. But I swear there were 200 patrons that night.
Strapped to the plank I thought about it: BDSM Night alternated and Boyz Nights were every third Thursday which meant at least every few months they would coincide.
But just what was Boyz Night? I hadn't worked on a Boyz Night yet.
Trixie started dancing while I 'protested' for the crowd's pleasure, and they were a very loud and pleasured group.
About the time she removed her sheepskin covered G-string they went ape-shit crazy. The crowd never gets so wild just because a girl takes it all off.
I couldn't crane my head to see, but tried to imagine what it could be, I wondered if maybe she'd dyed her pubes blue or something. That didn't make much sense since all the girls shaved, or had it lasered off permanently.
Trixie strutted around me twirling her pasties clockwise, counterclockwise, and even both at once. Her hips rocked seductively, she had gorgeous boobs, and buns to kill for.
She stroked my soft cock dramatically, bringing it to life.
When I rose to my full eight inches they hooted and hollered like at a bachelorette party - except most, if not all, of the voices appreciating my cock were male.
Trixie began blowing me, and man was it better than my regular stage partner. You see, Wanda knows how to make a blowjob look good to the spectators, but inside her mouth, where what she does is invisible, she does nothing. She goes deep, and she sucks till her cheeks cave in, but she doesn't use her tongue at all - it's just a stage-blow.
In contrast, Trixie put on a good show, but I could just tell she loved the feeling of a cock in her mouth. She swirled her tongue, she milked it with her throat, and she hummed a happy tune that only I could hear and feel. I was on the verge of creaming her tonsils.
Improvising I screamed, "Stop! Stop! I don't wanna do this. Don't make me come this way." And while I desperately did want to come in her hot mouth, I needed to save the cumshot. The crowd loved my unintentional theatrics, laughing hysterically.
