I arrived late to Jetset.
Prior to Jetset, I had a successful performance at a 21st birthday party, and the audience of around 20 girls detained me for an extra hour. I wore my cop outfit, which did not deceive anyone, but was appreciated nonetheless. The girls chanted my name while I performed, and some of them pleaded for me to stay and hang out with them even while I was on my way out the door. Their satisfaction made me feel as though there were an aura of invincibility around me that night, allowing me to do anything with success. Nothing could go wrong, except that I was running over an hour late to Jetset.
Jetset had started without me. A large crowd had gathered on the dance floor, dancing to the beat of the techno music and strobe lights. Even though it was Friday night, or Gay Night, there were a lot of women and straight couples in the crowd. It was very busy despite the lull of the summer semester, and busy meant a lot of potential tip money.
Titus and Matthew were dancing in their thongs on stage, gyrating around the stripper pole. Titus had his signature drink of sex-on-the-beach in his hand, dancing in a slow groove so he wouldn’t spill it. Matthew’s dance looked like a stiff duck waddling in place. I waved to them as I walked by, scanning the crowd for Korina. She was not around, which left me dismayed. Maybe she didn’t plan on showing up, or maybe she had shown up earlier and left. I sought out Dan, the owner, to explain why I was late. He nodded in understanding and said that it was okay for me to work other parties. Very easy going guy. It was almost impossible to piss him off.
I donned on my fake police costume in the back kitchen and went out to make my nightly debut. The outfit was an instant hit at the club. The owner saw it, laughed, and told me that he loved it, tipping me $20. A few people in the club were so drunk that they thought I was the actual police. A few of the underage patrons jumped at my approach and tried to hide their drinks. After they realized I was the stripper, we shared a good laugh. One of the underage females tipped me a dollar out of relief.
When I climbed on-stage with Titus, he grinned when he saw my outfit. “Nice outfit,” he shouted over the music. “Where did you get it from?”
“Ordered it from the internet,” I shouted back.
He nodded, and muttered something about wanting to get one. I guess Mary Jane wasn’t handing him the shows requesting the cop outfits anymore.
While I danced on stage, club-goers showered me with tips before I had even started stripping. Because the cop outfit was so popular, I only took off the pants, leaving my gun belt on (minus the baton and gun), along with my boots, and my police shirt, although I unbuttoned it to expose my chest and abs. I wore a black thong underneath.
One man came up, slipped money into my thong, and said, “Oh my, officer! You can arrest me anytime!”
Another guy said, “Oooh, I’ve been bad. Can you handcuff me?”
For the duration of the night, I heard similar comments. I would smile in response without saying anything. I didn't want to provoke further flirtation from them, but I didn't want to discourage them from tipping either. Money entered my thong left and right, and few bills found their way into my boots. I had to make trips to my bag in the kitchen area to empty the excess money, otherwise it’d fall onto the floor. I was on fire tonight.
Unfortunately, I now caught the attention of Carpenter Joe.
Carpenter Joe was an older guy, around his 40s or 50s, who hovered in the corner of the club like a kobold and stared at the younger men. He never said anything, just stared in a creepy way. He looked very out of place in the club. Whereas most of the crowd dressed in flashy clothes, he either wore overalls or a flannel shirt and jeans.
Normally I didn’t mind accepting a tip from another guy, but Carpenter Joe made me cringe. He wore a perpetual look of anger and hunger on his face, like he was out hunting. His downward mustache gave him the appearance of a disgruntled sex offender. He left me alone for the most part. But tonight, my cop outfit must have triggered him into action, because he drifted towards the stage to tip me.
When his hand shoved a dollar bill into the side of my thong, a small part of my soul shriveled up and died as the result of his touch. I noticed that he gave me a $50 bill. He glared up at me and drifted back to his corner to ogle at me like a creep again.
“You wanna get that guy to keep tippin’ you, son,” Titus muttered into my ear. “That guy is one rich muthafucka.”
I didn’t know if it was worth it or not. It was like exchanging parts of my soul for money.
I continued to look out for Korina, but to no avail. I soon gave up and focused on earning more money. The crowd continued to patronize me with tips throughout the night. Carpenter Joe revisited me several times, giving me a $20 bill each time. I earned more than $100 alone just from him and hated every second of it. As he slipped a twenty into the side of my thong during one exchange, he used his other hand to try and grab my dick. I stepped back and shouted, “No touching!” He withdrew without a word and left me alone for the remainder of that night. I shuddered in revulsion. In a strange way, I began to understand how female strippers felt.
It was past midnight now, and I was on stage drinking and talking to Matthew when a voice rang out of the crowd: “Hey sexy!”
I scanned the sea of people on the dance floor and saw a hand raised towards the ceiling above everyone’s head waving. It belonged to Korina. A surge of joy coursed through me. She looked amazing. She wore a red halter top and a black miniskirt that accentuated the length of her slender legs. Her face looked immaculate in makeup.
A few of her girlfriends accompanied her, cheering, whistling, and waving at me like they were my personal fanclub. I beckoned Korina towards the stage, and she came. I held out my hands toward her and lifted her onto the stage.
“You’re really strong,” she said into my ear as I eased her onto the stage. She wrapped her arms around me as we danced together. Matthew politely eased over to other side of the small stage to give me and Korina some room.
“I thought you’d never come,” I said.
“Sorry about that! My friends didn’t want to come here because they said it was a gay club tonight. We went to Purple Porpoise instead! I’ve been bugging them to come here all night. I said that Jetset has male strippers, dammit!”
I smirked and locked eyes with her. “So you wanted to see me then?”
“Hmmm, let’s see…” Korina said, her eyes drifting upwards towards the ceiling in thought. “Maybe…”
Matthew danced in silence next to us. A few guys came up to tip him. All tips stopped flowing to me now that I was entangled with Korina. Matthew warned me in the past that getting intimate with a girl onstage would hurt my chances of getting more tips, and he was right. But at this point, I did not care.
“Do you want a drink?” I offered Korina.
“You don’t have to buy me a drink,” Korina said. “You’re working.”
“It’s on the club.”
Korina pulled back and looked at me in amazement. “You can do that?”
“Of course. What do you want?”
“A long island then.”
I jumped off the stage first, then turned around to scoop Korina off the stage, gently guiding her to the floor. I took her hand and led her to the bar and ordered two long islands. While we waited on the bartender to make the drink, Korina motioned her friends over to us. She introduced me to several names and faces that I had soon forgotten. They were friendly enough though. They flashed knowing grins to Korina, who smiled back like she had just won a prize at a contest.
Little did I realize it at the time, but I was being a horrible worker. In addition to not dancing like I was paid to do, I was fooling around with Korina and abusing my free drinks privilege. All that mattered to me though was impressing her, and at least I wasn’t doing a bad job with that.
The bartender gave me the long islands. I handed Korina hers, noticing that she enjoyed the idea of getting a free drink, and we ventured onto the dance floor. Titus was on the stage with a random girl, while Matthew relocated to dancing on the bar. Korina and I blended in with the crowd on the dance floor as best as a man wearing only a thong could.
“It’s weird that you’re only in a thong in front of everyone,” Korina admitted. “You don’t get self-conscious, do you?”
“No, I got used to it.”
We wrapped our arms around each other. The warmth of her body so close to mine fueled my arousal, and I drew her against me, lifting one of her legs up around me so I could press myself between her legs. I did this for two reasons: First, I was horny; second, I wanted to hide my erection up Korina’s skirt, so I wouldn’t expose myself to everyone else on the dance floor.
Korina looked into my eyes and smiled. “I can definitely tell that you like girls,” she said.
"Well, you were playing it cool at the lingerie store, so I wasn't sure if you were into me or not."
I smiled and stared into her eyes while we danced. It was difficult to hide my elation. She continued to look up at me, her lips parted. I leaned in and kissed her, there on the dance club in front of the whole club. So much for professionalism. So much for earning tips. I hoped that Dan, the owner, wasn’t watching and getting upset. But testosterone was making all of the decisions for me at this point. I had a burning desire inside that wanted to consume Korina, and nothing else mattered. We continued making out for a very long time.
One of Korina’s girlfriends nudged us.
“What?” Korina demanded, irritated at being interrupted.
“That creepy guy is staring at you two,” Korina’s friend replied, looking very concerned.
We both turned. Hovering in his corner like a sour kobold, Carpenter Joe stared at us with his hungry gaze. Even when all three of us looked at him, he did not break eye contact, only frowned into his mustache and glared back at us.
“What’s his problem?” Korina asked. “Why the hell does he keep looking at us like that?”
“I think he wants me,” I said. “He gave me over a hundred bucks earlier tonight.”
This news made Korina grimace like she bit into a lemon. “Ewww! Eww! What a creep! Is he stalking you?”
I shrugged, feigning indifference, but on the inside, I was disgusted at the thought of that guy taking such a perverted interested in me. “He hardly ever leaves his corner. We can go to the other room if you want. He just stays to watch the male dancers. He won’t follow... I hope.”
“Yes, please.” She turned and thrust her middle finger at Creepy Carpenter Joe as a final farewell. “Take a picture, asshole. It’ll last longer.”
Carpenter Joe responded by watching us in silence.
Just as we were about to leave the room, Korina tugged at my arm to stop me, and turned back around to face Carpenter Joe once again. “Oh, I bet you wish you had some of this too!” she shouted, rubbing her hands along my chest and abs. “Too bad! It's mine!” With that, we both left him sulking in his corner alone.
Her fiery attitude took me by surprise, but I chuckled at the thought of Carpenter Joe frowning at her words in silence, especially since he gave me over a hundred dollars to watch me leave with a girl.
I guided Korina to the other room with chairs and tables, and her friends followed. Korina latched onto me. We talked about Carpenter Joe for awhile, but soon we discussed plans on what to do after Jetset, noting several after-parties located throughout Gainesville.
“What do you want to do?” Korina said softly into my ear.
I had some experience with stripping by now, but I had little experience with “sealing the deal.” I fumbled and muttered something about wanting hanging out with Korina and her friends, but deep down, I only wanted to spend time with Korina alone. Luckily, she was more straight-forward.
“How bout we go back to your place?” she suggested. “I’m tired and I don’t feel like going out to party.”
“Okay,” I said, perking up. That was easy. I was used to excuses and rejection, not getting what I want this easily. I wondered if there was a catch.
Korina told her friends that she was going to leave with me. They grinned—one even winked at me—and told us to have fun. They decided to go to some after parties and left after they finished their shots.
Last call came, and one of the bouncers, a muscular Colombian guy, started ushering everyone except the employees outside. Occasionally, he would have to grab and push an occasional drunk towards the front door. No one messed with him. He was about to ask Korina to leave, but I told him that she was riding home with me. He nodded and walked past her without a word.
The male strippers gathered around the bar while the bartender and the owner counted out the cash drawer. This was a common ritual every night at the club. We talked about the highlights of the night while waiting to get paid. I sat next to Titus, and Korina sat in my lap. Titus glanced at Korina, looked her up and down, then turned back to me and gave a nod of approval. Then he gestured that he wanted to talk to me in private.
"Give me a sec," I told Korina, getting off the barstool, and walking over near the other room with Titus to where we could not be heard. Once there, I asked Titus, "What's up?"
"Dat yo bitch fo tonight?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said, feeling smug.
"Lemme fuck her," he said.
My smugness evaporated. Did I hear him right? I stared at him in shock for a moment, uncomprehending.
"Come on, man," Titus urged. "Dat is one bad bitch right dere. Lemme fuck her too."
"Fuck no!" I said, appalled and offended. I walked back to Korina. Titus returned, but didn't say anything, pretending as if nothing happened. Korina asked what we were talking about, but I shook my head. I was too embarrassed to even let her know.
The owner of Jetset handed us our payment, which was pocket change compared to the tips I earned earlier, but it was extra money. I thought he was going to be upset with me because of Korina, but instead, he complimented my cop outfit once more and told me to wear a costume every week. I guess it was okay to hook up at work. Titus did so frequently. This was my first time pushing the boundary, so I felt self-conscious about my actions that night.
After getting paid, I took Korina back to my apartment.
“I’m so excited,” Korina said. “I’m curious to see how what a male stripper’s pad looks like!” She giggled and cast me a sideways glance. “I bet you do this all the time.”
“Do what all the time?” I asked.
“Take girls home from your job.”
I could not think of a response to that, so I said nothing. Korina mistook my silence as me being coy and made a few comments how I probably had girls jumping on me from left and right. If she had only met me a few months ago.
Once we arrived, I showed Korina around my apartment. There wasn’t much to show her though, because it had the bare essentials. The living room had my computer desk in one corner, and my weight training set took up most of the remaining space. There was the kitchen, bathroom, and my bedroom beyond. It had a bookshelf, night stand, my bed, and a chair. The scarcity of my place seemed to disappoint Korina, but she sat down on the bed and turned her attention towards me. “Give me a private strip show,” she demanded.
I happily obliged. This was really happening. I had a hot girl that I really wanted right here in my bedroom. I got in front of her and stripped until I had on nothing but my thong. I slowly danced, grasping her shoulders and massaging them. Korina was gleeful, but soon became impatient. She grabbed my arm and pulled me towards her, causing me to topple and fall over her in the most ungraceful manner. Then, she grabbed my hair and forced me to make out with her. I did not need to be experienced to know that sex was now inevitable.
The fragrance of her perfume, mixed with the scent of the various sweet alcoholic drinks she consumed earlier, filled my senses as our tongues intertwined. Her skirt folded up around her waist as she wrapped her legs around me. My cock became painfully swollen and escaped through the top of my thong. I pressed it against her red thong as I kissed her, rubbing myself up and down on her. I grabbed the straps of her halter top and pulled them down, along with her bra, exposing her breasts. I grabbed one breast and leaned down to suck on it. She moaned in pleasure.
“Lay back,” Korina said. I obeyed. She kneeled beside me and pulled my thong down. Her slender hand grabbed my cock, and her pretty face leaned forward towards it. I felt the warm, wet sensation of her mouth as she took me in and closed my eyes and gasped in pleasure. Her little mouth couldn’t take much of my cock in, but she smoothly glided up and down the head of it. I wanted this feeling to continue forever.
Suddenly, she stopped and looked up at me. “Do you have a condom?”
“Yeah,” I said, sitting up and leaning over to get one out of my nightstand. I grabbed one and opened it. I was so nervous that I was afraid of going limp while putting the condom on, so I knelt in front of Korina, spread her legs, and licked her shaven pussy. I planned to jerk off and put the condom on while giving her oral, in case I got too nervous, but Korina enjoyed what I was doing so much that she grabbed my hair, thrust her pussy against my face, and closed her thighs around my ears.
Her expression of lust caused desire to replace my nervousness. My cock became painfully erect as my tongue caressed her clit, and I was able to slide the lubricated latex down my cock. Korina let out a soft moan and bucked her hips, making me want to enter her. I did not have to wait for long.
“Let me get on top,” she said. “I wanna fuck you now.”
We switched positions. Korina climbed atop of me and grabbed my latex-encased cock to guide it inside. She winced in pain as my head entered her. “Slowly,” she said. It took a while of easing into her, as she was a tight fit for me, but after a minute of short, gentle thrusting motions, I could glide into her. Once she relaxed, she began to ride me, pushing her hands flat against my abs for leverage.
Her face looked so beautiful and she concentrated in pleasure. A lock of blonde hair fell in front of her face. Her tightness made my orgasm build near the boiling point, and I bit my tongue hard to focus my mind elsewhere, so I wouldn’t cum before she did. My hands slid up from her hips and grabbed her breasts. They felt small in my large hands, the tip of her nipples hard. Then I brought my hand up to her face and slid my thumb into her mouth, which she sucked like a cock, her cheeks going inward with each sucking motion.
“Grab my ass!” she ordered, bouncing up and down on me.
I removed my thumb from her mouth to grab onto both cheeks with a firm grip and squeezed them, moving them in tandem with her movements. That made Korina more excited and she rode me faster. Her facial expression showed her building up, her lips parted wider as she neared climax.
“I’m cumming!” she said, slowing her pace almost to a stop. I felt her tighten around my cock. Her mouth opened in gasping breaths while her nails clawed at my chest. She paused for a moment on top, then after her orgasm passed, she collapsed atop of me and sighed in ecstasy. “That was intense. I usually don’t cum so easily.”
|Korina in my bedroom. Pic taken approx. 2 weeks later|
Korina got off of me, so I could fuck her in a different position. I wanted to fuck her from behind, to view her tight little ass as I rammed myself into her. I rolled her over, and buried the side of her face into a pillow while I entered her pussy from behind. My instincts took over, making me want to ravish her like a wild beast. I fucked her like I wanted to dominate every part of her being. Looking back and forth between her small ass and the submissive look on her face, I felt my cock ready for release. The anticipation of meeting Korina, from the time I played with her feet at French Addiction until the time I made out with her at Jetset, all added to the buildup of pressure to my orgasm. I pushed myself deep inside of her. My cock pulsated as I shot wave after wave of cum into the condom.
After the last wave passed, I leaned back and smiled, satisfied at how the night's events played out. Korina’s comment afterwards made me feel even greater.
“Yeah, you definitely bring girls back here all the time,” Korina said.
“Why do you say that?” I asked.
“Hmmm, let’s see. You’re a male stripper, and girls pay you to get naked. You work out all the time and you make a lot of money. Plus, you’re really good in bed. You can’t fool me.”
“No—” I began to object.
“It’s okay,” Korina interrupted. “You don't have to hide it. I think it’s sexy.”
Somewhere deep down inside me, a nagging sensation told me that this girl had a crush on the male stripper image of me, definitely not the nerdy guy beneath the exterior. The weariness of the day combined with post-coital bliss made me too tired to think about it. I merely smiled at her compliments and fell asleep with her nestled on me like a kitten.