Eager to prove himself, Kyle has always wanted to go on a risky undercover mission. Finally, the police department has found the perfect job for him. The straight jock will have to play the role of a male stripper to infiltrate a drug cartel. Little does he know that this is only the beginning of his (hot) journey.
UNDERCOVER
Chapter 2: The Man of Steel
I was supposed to meet with the "Man of Steel" in a gay club on Friday night.
Captain Gordon had told me to go there as Ryan Smith. I needed to get a feel of my new identity and personality.
From this point on, I was Ryan, an aspiring stripper who had no ambition other than making a ton of money by shaking his butt.
Officially, I had required a paid lesson from a legend in this field.
The Man of Steel, A.K.A. Allan, had no idea that I was a cop and he had simply been told this had to remain discreet.
As a professional stripper, he knew how to keep secrets so this was no big deal.
Despite the circumstances, I was super excited as it would be the very first time I would be properly going "undercover."
Just holding my fake passport was a thrill.
Sure, the first step was to learn how to get naked in front of an audience, but it was an important mission nonetheless.
I was introduced to Peter Thorne during the afternoon. He would be my partner all throughout the assignment.
Peter was a 50 years-old man, with a fat belly from his dad-body, and an untrimmed ginger beard.
He had come especially from Florida for this and he would be coming with me to San Antonio. He was a special agent and was used to assist cops going undercover.
According to him, I was his sixteenth mission.
"And not a single failure." He proudly claimed.
He told me what I should wear and gave me a few advice for playing my character.
He also showed me where the few cameras and mics had been set up in my place.
This was meant to condition me before I moved to San Antonio where I would be monitored all the time.
"Don't feel too weird about the cameras. We're not watching your moves 24/7. This system is only there so we can review the footage if anything were to happen."
"And I suppose the one in my bathroom is necessary?"
He smiled.
"Are you a prude or something?"
"Nah, I just feel bad for anyone who'll have to see me shit." I snapped back.
He laughed.
I liked Peter, he was a true professional and he was my direct boss but he was not taking himself too seriously.
I guess that part of his job was to make me feel comfortable trusting him.
"Since the mission will imply a lot of taking your clothes off, it's better that we rip that bandage off right away. Can you change into this? Your outfit for tonight."
He handed me a sleeveless tank-top, a tiny pair of yellow boxer briefs, and a pair of jeans.
The jeans were too tight compared to what I would normally wear, but overall, I could have pulled this outfit as myself.
It was not too different from my everyday style.
I was a bit surprised that Peter was asking me to change right in front of him, but I did not challenge the orders.
He was right, he would get to see me naked soon enough anyway.
Funny to think that my shameless attitude had been the one thing which had landed me the undercover mission I had been dreaming for most of my life.
Who could have known they would need an exhibitionist?
"How am I supposed to act with Allan tonight?" I asked while peeling my tee-shirt off.
"Like a straight guy who wants to make a bit of money. Listen, we've made sure your character wouldn't be too different from who you are. You shouldn't be playing a part constantly."
I took my jeans off and my underwear went down with my pants.
I almost covered myself up but then, I remembered that I had to learn to be comfortable in front of Peter.
I took everything off in one go, and I let my fat uncut cock hang there.
Ryan Smith was certainly shameless so I had to be as well. Besides, we were between men.
"Got it. I'm basically me with the only slight difference that I've gone for stripping instead of law enforcement." I summed up.
Peter was ostentatiously staring at my cock. I assumed it was another sort of a test.
He smirked at me.
"Exactly. And from what I can see, you've got everything to be the perfect Ryan Smith already."
I ignored his last comment and got myself into the yellow boxer briefs.
They were way too tight and sliding inside my ass crack.
"I think those are too small."
"They're not. We know your sizes. Our choices were deliberate." Peter told firmly, not leaving any room for debate.
I finished dressing up, feeling like I was about to whore myself out.
I kind of was.
I checked myself in the mirror. I had not changed much but it did feel like I had put on a costume.
"Does this look okay?" I asked, trying to hide my nerves.
"You look perfect. Good job! One of the things we'll have to be mindful of is whether we should wire mics on your body. It might be trickier than usually since you may have to take your clothes off often during the mission."
"Oh yes, right... I hadn't thought about this."
"We'll cross that bridge when we'll get to it. Don't worry."
"What about tonight?"
"You'll meet with a nobody stripper who believes he's famous. There's no need to record anything that will happen at the club. Literally, just learn how to move your body, man. It's the job interview next week that you'll have to nail."
"I'll try..."
Dallas did not have a ton of gay clubs but the "Man of Steel" was a super-star in each one of them.
I, for one, would be entering a gay establishment for the very first time in my life.
I did have a cringy thought parking there, I was afraid that someone would recognize me. One of my bros who would think that I had turned homo...
Although, if they were seeing me there, it would mean that they were attending the club themselves.
Besides, I had to learn to own up to it.
It was only for the good of the assignment after all.
Allan had asked me to be there around 11 PM to watch his first performance. The idea was for me to see him in action, and then, I could take a private lesson backstage once he would be done.
I arrived at about 9:45 PM and the place was already quite crowded.
It was not only a club; people were mostly there to enjoy a drink and have some fun at the bar.
There was a karaoke playing and a drag queen cleverly named "Nona Bynaree" hosting the show.
You did not get it? Non-Binary.
Anyway.
I did not even know that there were drag queens in Dallas, Texas.
I got stared at as soon as I walked in, which, I suppose, was a rather good sign for the mission to come.
I sat down on a stool at the bar and ordered a beer.
The bartender was certainly the youngest guy around me. Otherwise, the place was mostly occupied by older hairy men. Bears.
Yes, I knew some of the lingo.
"Here you go, handsome!" The shirtless bartender told as he handed me my drink.
"Thanks."
Honestly, I was not really in my element and I think that he could tell.
For that reason alone, it was important for me to be there so I would not be as shaky in San Antonio.
To be fair, the damn boxer briefs were smashing my junks (they were supposed to enhance my bulge) and rubbing against my crack.
A pair of tight underwear was certainly an appropriate attire for a stripper, but I thought that Peter had gone a little bit too far on this one.
My cock and balls needed some space to breathe! I was quite big down there.
Thankfully, the drag queen on stage was pretty funny and it was distracting enough.
Also, I am not going to lie, I enjoyed how the customers were eyeing me out. My biceps were all out in the sleeveless tank-top, and it was definitely to their liking.
I even got a few of them offering me a drink.
I mindlessly flexed to see if I could get more looks.
I did. Neat!
After a while, I had almost forgotten the reason why I was there, very much entertained by the drag queen and one of the clients in a Borat bathing-suit singing "I will always love you" from Whitney Houston to the crowd.
Say what you will about the gay community, but those guys sure know how to have fun!
At 11:15 though, the hostess had stopped singing and she made an important announcement.
"Guys, are you ready for the show to steam up a little?"
The excited crowd yelled their enthusiasm.
The place was even busier now, a lot of guys had arrived in the last hour.
It was a Friday night in the middle of June, people were eager to party and to let loose after a long week of work.
I think I recognized one of my teachers from High-school amongst the customers. He was quite drunk already.
"Please, welcome to the stage... The one and only... The Man of Steel!"
The cheers got louder.
Although, the word "stage" might have been an overstatement for the white cube with a pole which stood out in the center of the dance floor.
The stripper had to walk through the customers to get to it.
As soon as I saw Allan walking on the platform in his rainbow latex suit, I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Not that he was not delivering a great performance, but suddenly, I saw myself in his spot and I was not sure I was capable of doing it.
Stripping was not something one could simply improvise.
On the tune of "Born this Way" by Lady Gaga, Allan started shimmering lasciviously on stage.
He was cultivating his resemblance with Superman and he frankly looked exactly the part. Down to his face, his hair, his attitude... He was an almost exact doppelganger.
As for his body, that man was built like an actual super-hero, a Greek God of some sort.
The latex outfit glued to his muscles was enhancing his incredible physique in the most outrageous way possible.
I had gone to bodybuilding competitions once or twice in my youth, - not to participate myself since I thought the bodybuilder looks was not as appealing to women, but to support a gym mate who was competing -, and believe me, Allan would have beaten everyone there to the punch.
He was simply huge and that fact became even more evident as he started peeling off his super-hero suit.
Also, I should mention, his bulge was looking obscene, you could clearly see his firm erection through the fabric, and people were already trying to grab and rub it.
Were they allowed to touch?!
