Saturday, January 16, 2016

A Brief Hiatus

I apologize for the lack of updates. The new year has brought an excess of activity in my life, especially regarding my day job. Therefore, I currently have little time to write stories, articles, and update this blog.

This busy schedule will last until mid-February. Afterwards, I plan on updating and writing again.

In the meantime, "Behind the G-String" is now $0.99 on Kindle, and the paperback version of "American Stripper" is reduced to $9.99 if you haven't already picked up a version of either.

Enjoy.


Monday, December 28, 2015

New Year's Resolutions for Male Strippers

For the past two years, I've been doing a post on resolutions for both aspiring and professional male strippers. This is the third year, and more experience allows me to add more advice to the list.

Even this year, I feel that my advice from 2014 and 2015 still holds true.

So take these resolutions for what they're worth to you.


2014

Aspiring Male Stripper Resolutions

  • I will train to build a better body.
  • I will eat a healthy diet to attain an ideal physique.
  • I will improve my dancing abilities, even if I think I know how to dance.
  • I will groom myself and maintain the highest standards of hygiene.
  • I will start a portfolio of professional pictures of myself, so I have something to send to employers.
  • I will have my own cell phone and GPS.
  • I will have my own music player accompanied by a set list of good dance songs.
  • I will put together at least two different costumes.
  • I will buy some sexy underwear for stripping.
  • I will contact at least three different employers for work.
  • I will listen to criticism.


Professional Male Stripper Resolutions
  • I will maintain or improve my work-out routine, diet, and physique.
  • I will practice my dance routine and look for ways to improve it.
  • I will continue to look my best, never slacking because I have achieved success.
  • I will learn to perform and speak in public, even if I think I already know how.
  • I will check out different employers to learn about other opportunities out there.
  • I will treat my current employer(s) with respect because they provide me with work.
  • I will give my customers the best service that I can.
  • I will put together another costume and/or improve the ones I already have.
  • I will create business cards and network with local limo services, party buses, event organizers, or any other possible venues that may require a male stripper.
  • I will update my portfolio if necessary.
  • I will abstain from activities and substances that are detrimental to my health and physique.
  • I will not be envious of others, nor compare myself to my peers.
  • I will be amiable, enthusiastic, and professional.
  • I will not boast, brag, or gloat about my profession.
  • I will always remember where I came from.
  • I will strive to learn other skills and knowledge in life, because I know that I cannot strip forever.

2015



  • I will avoid poisonous people who insult me, smile upon my misfortunes, and discourage me from bettering myself. 
  • I will avoid being such a poisonous person to my peers, because such a personality will show in my work.
  • I will cultivate and/or maintain profound friendships with positive people, because these are the relationships that count once the parties are over.
  • I will evaluate my bad parties and discover new ways to satisfy customers, even if they are difficult.
  • I will count and record my earnings, even the tips down to the last dollar. I will use this information to track my personal budget, note the customer flow each month and season, and to note which parties netted the most tips so I can make the necessary adjustments for improvements. 

2016

  • I will invest my excess tip money wisely towards my future, instead of splurging on unnecessary things that will not benefit me in the long run.
  • I will abstain from harmful drugs because they are detrimental to maintaining the ideal physique.
  • Keep my eyes and ears open for new opportunities and careers.
  • I will train with high intensity, but know my limits to avoid injury.  

Wednesday, December 2, 2015

A Very Scandalous Affair - Part Two

Continued from PART ONE.
 



The next day, my phone exploded with text messages from Jen. Just as promised, she sent me pictures of the beach party along with selfies of herself.

“We’re going out on Saturday night,” she wrote. “Wanna go?”

I didn’t have a party scheduled that Saturday night, so I agreed. From that point on, our text messages became full of erotic ideas of what was to come.

Besides discussing potential sexual activities, Jen was dying to know what kind of job I had. “I’d have to know you better,” I said. “I’d get fired if they found out.”

That answer only furthered Jen’s curiosity.

“You seem like the professional type, so you’re either a doctor, lawyer, or maybe even a firefighter. I’m guessing firefighter.”

“Okay, you got me,” I responded.

“I knew it. That is so sexy!” she wrote.

I couldn’t remember much about what Jen did for a living, but I do remember that she was twenty-nine years old, close to my age at the time.

Judging from the way things were going, I went into Saturday full of wonderful and exciting expectations. I did find excitement…

We met at a karaoke bar on the beach. I cannot remember the name, but it nestled between the boardwalk of the beach’s public access area and a high rise hotel. The bar catered towards a laidback crowd, only providing barstools, tables, chairs, and a karaoke stage. Various people took their turns singing, alternating between country and rock music.

All five girls from the beach party filed in and sat with me at a table. We ordered a round of drinks and talked, more like shouted to each other over the loud music.

Jen, who was very animated and touchy the other night, seemed like an entirely different person when sober. She smiled at me, but said very little and even sat apart. For a moment, I wondered if this was the same girl who sent those racy text messages.

“She’s just being really shy because she likes you,” the bride said into my ear. “She was talking about you all day.”

“Did she now?”

“Oh, yeah. She really likes you.”

I tried to converse with Jen again, but she only gave me short answers as if struggling for something to say. Perhaps she needed more alcohol to loosen up and relax.

To pass the time, I engaged in small talk with the other four girls. The one who spoke to me the most was the one I least expected: Brittney.

Unlike the other night when she was withdrawn, curt, and blunt, she was much friendlier tonight. She even had her hand on my leg under the table.

When the Jen and the bride went to the bar, Brittney leaned very close to me and said, “See the girl next to me? She has a boyfriend, so don’t fuck with her. The girl next to her is married, so don’t fuck with her.” Brittney nodded towards the bar. “Of course the bride is getting married soon, so she’s off limits. And Jen is also married, so don’t fuck with her—”

“Wait a minute,” I interrupted. “Jen is married?!”

“Yep. With kids, too.”

“You’re making that up,” I said.

Brittany shrugged and pointed to her friends sitting nearby. “Ask them if you don’t believe me. Jen is lying to you if she’s playing that single card. And personally, I think it’s fucked up that she’s trying to cheat on her husband and keeping you in the dark about it.”

I paused in thought to soak in this new information. That definitely changed things.

“Since every girl here is taken, that leaves me as the only single one here. So that leaves only me.”

“So that’s your motive,” I said, placing my hand on her bare thigh. Her skin felt smooth as silk, her thighs firm enough to reflect her athletic and youthful nature. She was quite attractive and looked younger and prettier than Jen. Plus if what she said was true, then the choice was a simple one.

“Do I need to be clearer?” she asked.

Before I could respond to her invitation, Jen and the bride returned to the table with drinks. Jen saw my hand on Brittany’s leg, and she purposefully took a seat on the opposite end of the table.

The bride noticed too. She leaned towards me and said, “Why are you flirting with Brittany? You’ve been talking to Jen all day, and she’s been excited to see you. Go talk to her.”

“Tell me something,” I said, studying the bride’s face intently. “Is Jen really married?”

The bride’s eyes flickered in alarm, then she looked away. “Umm…”

“You hesitated.”

The bride patted my arm. “She is, but you should talk to her anyway! She’s been looking forward to seeing you all day.”

“How would her husband feel about this?”

The bride shifted nervously. “Jen’s a nice person. You’ve been texting her a lot, so you should hang out with her.”

So Brittany wasn’t lying.

Another round of drinks came. Everyone was becoming progressively drunk except me and the bride. The bride, being the designated driver, limited herself to two shots. I, not caring much for alcohol, stopped after one shot.

As we conversed, Brittany latched onto my arm. Jen sat apart and sulked.

“Let’s get go somewhere private,” Brittany whispered into my ear.

I knew what that meant.

We slipped out of the bar and headed towards the parking lot. Brittany stumbled around in her heels and almost fell, but I caught her. She turned and grabbed my biceps with both hands and squeezed on them for a few moments. “Not to boost your ego, but you’ve got some really sexy arms. I’ve never been with a guy who had such muscular arms before.”

She turned towards me. Her lips parted and she leaned forward. I embraced her as she kissed me there in the parking lot.

Meanwhile, the text message notification on my phone chimed a few times, but I ignored it. A few drunks walking through the parking lot shouted at each other, further distracting me. Brittany didn’t seem to notice.

“Let’s go somewhere more private,” I said in annoyance.

“Okay. Where?”

“How about the beach?”

“I’m wearing heels, and I don’t feel like getting sand on my feet.”

“That’s fine,” I said, leaning over and scooping her up into my arms.

Brittany gasped in surprise. “My, you’re strong. I’ve never been manhandled like this before.”

I trekked across the sand with Brittany in my arms. By the time we neared a lifeguard hut, my arms felt like they were filled with lead.

“How about here?” I said, indicating to the empty hut.

“Are we allowed in there?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

A ramp led up to the lifeguard hut. The door was closed and locked, but we could get a good degree of privacy on the deck facing the beach.

Brittany dropped her purse to the ground, leaned against the railing and pulled me in for a kiss. Her hand shot down to the front of my jeans and began to unbutton and unzip them. Her hands felt soft as they freed my growing member and began to rub it.

I reached down to undo the button of her shorts, pulling them down slightly enough to slip my fingers down into the front her panties. She was wet to the touch as she shuddered and moaned against me.

“Put it in me,” she whispered.

I pulled her shorts down to her ankles, allowing her to step out of them. She grabbed my hair and pulled me towards her again for a deep kiss, her other hand guiding my cock towards her pussy. I began to reach for the condom in my back pocket.

Brittany grabbed my cock and lifted one leg up and wrapped it around me. “Fuck me, now.”

I could have entered her right there, but I fumbled for the condom. “Hold on,” I said, pulling away from her kiss.

Suddenly, she slapped me hard across the face. The move stunned more than hurt, but it angered me.

“What was that for?” I demanded.

“I told you to fuck me now!” she said, clawing at my chest.

Just then, the phone in her purse began to ring. Brittany pulled away and stooped down to retrieve her phone.

I sighed. “Do you really have to answer that now?”

Brittany answered her phone.

It was the bride, her sister. “Where are you?!” I heard her shout.

“Walking on the beach… Okay, okay! I’ll come back. Quit worrying.” She hung up and said, “Sorry, but my sister is getting worried. We’ll do this later.”

“All right,” I said.

This evening was not going well at all. Unfortunately, things got worse.

I checked my phone and saw multiple text messages – all from Jen – warning me to stay away from Brittany because she was underage. Each subsequent message became more threatening, and the final one stating how I was going to get fired from my teaching job.

I showed Brittany the texts. “Is this true you’re underage?”

“What a bitch!” Brittany said. “I’m eighteen. Not old enough to buy alcohol, but old enough.”

“How’d you get into the bar?” I asked, remembering the bouncers who carded everyone who entered.

“I have a fake I.D.” She pulled out both her real and fake I.D. and showed them to me. “See?”

Her fake I.D. looked similar to her real one, but the fake one was missing the official watermark.

“So why is Jen saying that you’re underage?”

Brittany shrugged. “She’s just jealous that I’m spending time with you, and she’s not. But she’s married… with kids! She has no right to complain. Anyway, let’s get back before my sister worries.”

Once we returned to the bar, Brittany went to the bar to order some drinks.

No sooner did she leave when Jen confronted me. “You’re a fucking asshole.”

I met her gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me that you’re married?”

For a brief moment, the look of anger gave way to pure astonishment. Jen quickly recovered, utter hatred forming across her face. “You’re going to be in big trouble. We’ll see about what your job has to say once I report that you’re messing around with underage girls.”

She walked away before I could say anything.

Jen’s penchant for retribution coupled with a lack of guilt left me dumbfounded. I have met women who had no qualms about cheating before, but this particular girl felt entitled to it like it was her birthright. And if she was already threatening vengeance on me, I wondered how she treated her husband at home. I couldn’t feel more disgust towards her.

At least Brittany was much prettier and single… even if she was rather demanding and bossy. But even my evening with her turned sour.

Brittany became so intoxicated that she could barely keep her eyes open. She definitely could not walk without assistance. She flirted with random men around the bar, sitting down on an old man’s lap right in front of his wife. I no longer wanted her. She was so drunk at this point that anyone would’ve sufficed.

Nevertheless, she still insisted we return to the lifeguard hut to have sex. I refused, saying that she was beyond the ability to have consensual sex. She staggered off.

I sat down with the bride and told her the situation of Brittany and Jen. She nodded in understanding and laughed. “You’re quite popular,” she said. “That’s what happens when you have two girls fighting over you. Most men would love to be in your shoes.”

“I can do without the drama,” I said.

The other married girls of the group were mingling with random men at the bar. Jen found a blue-collar type of guy and was talking to him at the bar. When she thought I was looking her way, she wrapped her arms around the guy and made out with him. The guy was elated. You’re welcome, I silently told him.

A few minutes later, one of the bouncers approached me and said, “You need to get that girl out of here. She’s passed out at the table, and the bartender wants her out.”

“Gotcha,” I said. “I’ll get her. We were about to leave anyway.”

Brittany was sprawled on one of the tables. There was a large empty space around her. When I tried to wake her, she mumbled something incoherent. When I picked her up, she tried to fight me and wriggle out of my grasp, but I was too strong and she was too drunk. I ended up carrying a comatose Brittany back to the car, dumping her unceremoniously into the back. Her sister thanked me, and I left and went home alone.

The next day, I received a text message from both Jen and Brittany.

Jen wrote, “We’ll see what your boss has to say when he finds out you’ve been with an underage girl. You’re going to be in big trouble.”

I replied, “You saying crazy things like that makes me glad we didn’t hook up. You’re trying to make me pay because I didn’t help you cheat on your husband? And Brittany’s eighteen, so you can stop your lying.”

Jen didn’t respond to that.

The next day, my phone exploded with text messages from Jen. Just as promised, she sent me pictures of the beach party along with selfies of herself.

“We’re going out on Saturday night,” she wrote. “Wanna go?”

I didn’t have a party scheduled that Saturday night, so I agreed. From that point on, our text messages became full of erotic ideas of what was to come.

Besides discussing potential sexual activities, Jen was dying to know what kind of job I had. “I’d have to know you better,” I said. “I’d get fired if they found out.”

That answer only furthered Jen’s curiosity.

“You seem like the professional type, so you’re either a doctor, lawyer, or maybe even a firefighter. I’m guessing firefighter.”

“Okay, you got me,” I responded.

“I knew it. That is so sexy!” she wrote.

I couldn’t remember much about what Jen did for a living, but I do remember that she was twenty-nine years old, close to my age at the time.

Judging from the way things were going, I went into Saturday full of wonderful and exciting expectations. I did find excitement…

We met at a karaoke bar on the beach. I cannot remember the name, but it nestled between the boardwalk of the beach’s public access area and a high rise hotel. The bar catered towards a laidback crowd, only providing barstools, tables, chairs, and a karaoke stage. Various people took their turns singing, alternating between country and rock music.

All five girls from the beach party filed in and sat with me at a table. We ordered a round of drinks and talked, more like shouted to each other over the loud music.

Jen, who was very animated and touchy the other night, seemed like an entirely different person when sober. She smiled at me, but said very little and even sat apart. For a moment, I wondered if this was the same girl who sent those racy text messages.

“She’s just being really shy because she likes you,” the bride said into my ear. “She was talking about you all day.”

“Did she now?”

“Oh, yeah. She really likes you.”

I tried to converse with Jen again, but she only gave me short answers as if struggling for something to say. Perhaps she needed more alcohol to loosen up and relax.

To pass the time, I engaged in small talk with the other four girls. The one who spoke to me the most was the one I least expected: Brittney.

Unlike the other night when she was withdrawn, curt, and blunt, she was much friendlier tonight. She even had her hand on my leg under the table.

When the Jen and the bride went to the bar, Brittney leaned very close to me and said, “See the girl next to me? She has a boyfriend, so don’t fuck with her. The girl next to her is married, so don’t fuck with her.” Brittney nodded towards the bar. “Of course the bride is getting married soon, so she’s off limits. And Jen is also married, so don’t fuck with her—”

“Wait a minute,” I interrupted. “Jen is married?!”

“Yep. With kids, too.”

“You’re making that up,” I said.

Brittany shrugged and pointed to her friends sitting nearby. “Ask them if you don’t believe me. Jen is lying to you if she’s playing that single card. And personally, I think it’s fucked up that she’s trying to cheat on her husband and keeping you in the dark about it.”

I paused in thought to soak in this new information. That definitely changed things.

“Since every girl here is taken, that leaves me as the only single one here. So that leaves only me.”

“So that’s your motive,” I said, placing my hand on her bare thigh. Her skin felt smooth as silk, her thighs firm enough to reflect her athletic and youthful nature. She was quite attractive and looked younger and prettier than Jen. Plus if what she said was true, then the choice was a simple one.

“Do I need to be clearer?” she asked.

Before I could respond to her invitation, Jen and the bride returned to the table with drinks. Jen saw my hand on Brittany’s leg, and she purposefully took a seat on the opposite end of the table.

The bride noticed too. She leaned towards me and said, “Why are you flirting with Brittany? You’ve been talking to Jen all day, and she’s been excited to see you. Go talk to her.”

“Tell me something,” I said, studying the bride’s face intently. “Is Jen really married?”

The bride’s eyes flickered in alarm, then she looked away. “Umm…”

“You hesitated.”

The bride patted my arm. “She is, but you should talk to her anyway! She’s been looking forward to seeing you all day.”

“How would her husband feel about this?”

The bride shifted nervously. “Jen’s a nice person. You’ve been texting her a lot, so you should hang out with her.”

So Brittany wasn’t lying.

Another round of drinks came. Everyone was becoming progressively drunk except me and the bride. The bride, being the designated driver, limited herself to two shots. I, not caring much for alcohol, stopped after one shot.

As we conversed, Brittany latched onto my arm. Jen sat apart and sulked.

“Let’s get go somewhere private,” Brittany whispered into my ear.

I knew what that meant.

We slipped out of the bar and headed towards the parking lot. Brittany stumbled around in her heels and almost fell, but I caught her. She turned and grabbed my biceps with both hands and squeezed on them for a few moments. “Not to boost your ego, but you’ve got some really sexy arms. I’ve never been with a guy who had such muscular arms before.”

She turned towards me. Her lips parted and she leaned forward. I embraced her as she kissed me there in the parking lot.

Meanwhile, the text message notification on my phone chimed a few times, but I ignored it. A few drunks walking through the parking lot shouted at each other, further distracting me. Brittany didn’t seem to notice.

“Let’s go somewhere more private,” I said in annoyance.

“Okay. Where?”

“How about the beach?”

“I’m wearing heels, and I don’t feel like getting sand on my feet.”

“That’s fine,” I said, leaning over and scooping her up into my arms.

Brittany gasped in surprise. “My, you’re strong. I’ve never been manhandled like this before.”

I trekked across the sand with Brittany in my arms. By the time we neared a lifeguard hut, my arms felt like they were filled with lead.

“How about here?” I said, indicating to the empty hut.

“Are we allowed in there?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

A ramp led up to the lifeguard hut. The door was closed and locked, but we could get a good degree of privacy on the deck facing the beach.

Brittany dropped her purse to the ground, leaned against the railing and pulled me in for a kiss. Her hand shot down to the front of my jeans and began to unbutton and unzip them. Her hands felt soft as they freed my growing member and began to rub it.

I reached down to undo the button of her shorts, pulling them down slightly enough to slip my fingers down into the front her panties. She was wet to the touch as she shuddered and moaned against me.

“Put it in me,” she whispered.

I pulled her shorts down to her ankles, allowing her to step out of them. She grabbed my hair and pulled me towards her again for a deep kiss, her other hand guiding my cock towards her pussy. I began to reach for the condom in my back pocket.

Brittany grabbed my cock and lifted one leg up and wrapped it around me. “Fuck me, now.”

I could have entered her right there, but I fumbled for the condom. “Hold on,” I said, pulling away from her kiss.

Suddenly, she slapped me hard across the face. The move stunned more than hurt, but it angered me.

“What was that for?” I demanded.

“I told you to fuck me now!” she said, clawing at my chest.

Just then, the phone in her purse began to ring. Brittany pulled away and stooped down to retrieve her phone.

I sighed. “Do you really have to answer that now?”

Brittany answered her phone.

It was the bride, her sister. “Where are you?!” I heard her shout.

“Walking on the beach… Okay, okay! I’ll come back. Quit worrying.” She hung up and said, “Sorry, but my sister is getting worried. We’ll do this later.”

“All right,” I said.

This evening was not going well at all. Unfortunately, things got worse.

I checked my phone and saw multiple text messages – all from Jen – warning me to stay away from Brittany because she was underage. Each subsequent message became more threatening, and the final one stating how I was going to get fired from my teaching job.

I showed Brittany the texts. “Is this true you’re underage?”

“What a bitch!” Brittany said. “I’m eighteen. Not old enough to buy alcohol, but old enough.”

“How’d you get into the bar?” I asked, remembering the bouncers who carded everyone who entered.

“I have a fake I.D.” She pulled out both her real and fake I.D. and showed them to me. “See?”

Her fake I.D. looked similar to her real one, but the fake one was missing the official watermark.

“So why is Jen saying that you’re underage?”

Brittany shrugged. “She’s just jealous that I’m spending time with you, and she’s not. But she’s married… with kids! She has no right to complain. Anyway, let’s get back before my sister worries.”

Once we returned to the bar, Brittany went to the bar to order some drinks.

No sooner did she leave when Jen confronted me. “You’re a fucking asshole.”

I met her gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me that you’re married?”

For a brief moment, the look of anger gave way to pure astonishment. Jen quickly recovered, utter hatred forming across her face. “You’re going to be in big trouble. We’ll see about what your job has to say once I report that you’re messing around with underage girls.”

She walked away before I could say anything.

Jen’s penchant for retribution coupled with a lack of guilt left me dumbfounded. I have met women who had no qualms about cheating before, but this particular girl felt entitled to it like it was her birthright. And if she was already threatening vengeance on me, I wondered how she treated her husband at home. I couldn’t feel more disgust towards her.

At least Brittany was much prettier and single… even if she was rather demanding and bossy. But even my evening with her turned sour.

Brittany became so intoxicated that she could barely keep her eyes open. She definitely could not walk without assistance. She flirted with random men around the bar, sitting down on an old man’s lap right in front of his wife. I no longer wanted her. She was so drunk at this point that anyone would’ve sufficed.

Nevertheless, she still insisted we return to the lifeguard hut to have sex. I refused, saying that she was beyond the ability to have consensual sex. She staggered off.

I sat down with the bride and told her the situation of Brittany and Jen. She nodded in understanding and laughed. “You’re quite popular,” she said. “That’s what happens when you have two girls fighting over you. Most men would love to be in your shoes.”

“I can do without the drama,” I said.

The other married girls of the group were mingling with random men at the bar. Jen found a blue-collar type of guy and was talking to him at the bar. When she thought I was looking her way, she wrapped her arms around the guy and made out with him. The guy was elated. You’re welcome, I silently told him.

A few minutes later, one of the bouncers approached me and said, “You need to get that girl out of here. She’s passed out at the table, and the bartender wants her out.”

“Gotcha,” I said. “I’ll get her. We were about to leave anyway.”

Brittany was sprawled on one of the tables. There was a large empty space around her. When I tried to wake her, she mumbled something incoherent. When I picked her up, she tried to fight me and wriggle out of my grasp, but I was too strong and she was too drunk. I ended up carrying a comatose Brittany back to the car, dumping her unceremoniously into the back. Her sister thanked me, and I left and went home alone.

The next day, I received a text message from both Jen and Brittany.

Jen wrote, “We’ll see what your boss has to say when he finds out you’ve been with an underage girl. You’re going to be in big trouble.”

I replied, “You saying crazy things like that makes me glad we didn’t hook up. You’re trying to make me pay because I didn’t help you cheat on your husband? And Brittany’s eighteen, so you can stop your lying.”

Jen didn’t respond to that.

Brittany wrote: “Hey, do you remember if we had sex last night?”

I replied, “No. You wanted to, but I figured you were too drunk to make that choice.”

“Thanks for doing that!”

“No problem. Just be careful. There are guys who’d take advantage of that.”

“I know. I had that happen to me before and it wasn’t good.”

“Then you probably shouldn’t get so drunk. Anyone could’ve hauled you off last night.”

No response. I guess I pissed her off, too.

In the end, I had to laugh about the whole incident. I had two girls fighting over me, both willing to have sex with me, but every plan went awry. Maybe I avoid disaster. I certainly did by not sleeping with Jen.

Brittany wrote: “Hey, do you remember if we had sex last night?”

I replied, “No. You wanted to, but I figured you were too drunk to make that choice.”

“Thanks for doing that!”

“No problem. Just be careful. There are guys who’d take advantage of that.”

“I know. I had that happen to me before and it wasn’t good.”

“Then you probably shouldn’t get so drunk. Anyone could’ve hauled you off last night.”

No response. I guess I pissed her off, too.

In the end, I had to laugh about the whole incident. I had two girls fighting over me, both willing to have sex with me, but every plan went awry. Maybe I avoid disaster. I certainly did by not sleeping with Jen.