Tropical Storm Blackout

Tropical Storm Lee pounded the Gulf Coast on the weekend of September 3rd, ruining any chance for tourists to enjoy the sunny beach over the long Labor Day weekend. Although it was grey and gloomy outside, some girls on vacation took this opportunity to hire a male stripper at the last minute to brighten up their weekend. I had three parties on Saturday alone.

I'll summarize the highlights of Saturday, because too much happened over the weekend for me to even recollect a whole detailed account of everything.

Party #1

Here is the information that my agent messaged me:

Sept. 3rd, Saturday. 1 male dancer. Cop uniform. Arrival time: 5:30 pm. (Address and phone numbers not included). Contact Angela. 15 - 20 girls. Bachelorette Party. Collect $250 cash.


This party took place at a beach condo with stucco walls and Spanish-tiled roofing. I could see the huge waves that Tropical Storm Lee churned up in the Gulf crashing against the white beach behind the condo. Angela met me outside and smuggled me inside toward the bathroom so I could change into my police uniform.

At this point, I asked her for payment.

"Can I pay you with a credit card?" she asked.

"How?" I said. "I don't carry a credit card machine with me everywhere."

"Oh... I paid everything with a credit card online," she said.

I knew that my agent said to pick up cash. His text message clearly stated that, so that told me that something was amiss. I told her that I needed to call my agent and make sure that there wasn't a mistake. Angela said that she would go upstairs and get everyone ready in the meantime.

Whenever I collect cash, I have to send my agent his cut of the money, so if I somehow lose that money or don't collect it, then I still owe money to my agent. Lucky for me, my agent answered his phone and I told him the situation. "She's bullshittin' ya," he said. "I told her specifically to pay you in cash. Don't strip until you get the money."

"Gotcha," I said. "Just checkin."

"I appreciate that. Sometimes these women will pull a fast one on ya."

Sure enough, Angela came back down with the cash in hand. She apologized for the misunderstanding and gave me the money. Now that I was paid, I went over the plans for my routine. I was going to go back outside, ring the doorbell, and Angela would answer and invite me inside. She would lead me to the girls upstairs and I would announce that someone was parked illegally. I finished donning on my police uniform and went back to the front door.

The routine went as planned. I went upstairs where over a dozen ladies waited, most of them over thirty years of age. The radio blasted music and I had to shout to be heard. As soon as I announced to the party about the illegally parked car, the bachelorette became fussy, demanding what the violation was. She stormed towards me glowering and said that she was a lawyer and wanted to go outside and document everything. If I were a real cop, then she would have been a real pain in the ass to deal with. Fortunately, I wasn't a real cop.

"Ma'am, we'll discuss everything," I assured her, placing my hands on her shoulders to guide her toward a chair. "But it's really windy outside, so just take a seat here and I'll get the paperwork."

She turned around and gave me a look mixed of puzzlement and shock.

I didn't give her any more time to contemplate because I was already moving to the rhythm of music and unbuttoning my shirt. She looked at her friends and the anger lines on her face relaxed into laughter as I stripped down to a shiny, silver thong.

Next I danced with Angela. After her were two other girls and the bachelorette again. The rest of the ladies didn't want to participate and I wasn't going to pressure them. I knew from experience that when a girl wants to be left alone, then it's best to leave her alone. After my short routine, I concluded the party by taking pictures with the girls.

After pictures, I started putting on my clothes. There were two more parties and very little time. The next party was scheduled for six o'clock and I was already running late. I thanked everyone on my way out. Angela walked me to my car and gave me an extra forty dollars for my tip.


Party #2

Sept. 3rd, Saturday. 1 male dancer. Cop uniform. Arrival time: 6:00 pm. (Address and phone numbers not included). Contact Tiffany. 10-15 girls. Bachelorette Party. Collect $250 cash.


I arrived thirty minutes late. However, I called earlier in the day and told Tiffany, the girl who hired me, that I was probably going to be late. She said that it was no problem and the girls were going to stay inside all night anyway because of the weather.

This party took place at a condo at a popular tourist resort a few miles from the beach. I have stripped at this resort for many parties in the past, so it was easy for me to find the location.

My routine started off like normal. I performed my police act, which tricked the bachelorette again. I was 2 for 2 tonight so far. As I was about to finish my routine though, the girls had a request: full nudity. At first, I told them that I usually don't do that, but they pleaded even more.

"Come on--pretty please!" one of the girls said. She pointed at the bachelorette. "This will be the last dick she gets to see because she gets married."

"Yeah, most of us are married and haven't seen another cock in years. You gotta show us!"

I think I'm the only guy I know who has ever had a room full of a dozen hot girls begging to see his cock. And let me tell you, it's hard to turn down a dozen girls eager to see you naked. The more I refused, the more insistent the girls became. Finally, peer pressure got the best of me. "Okay, but no pictures."

The girls agreed. They put away the cameras and took their seats on the L-shaped couch in the living room. The girls kept their word---no one had a camera.

As soon as I approached the couch, two pairs of hands grasped the strap of my thong and pulled downward. The rest of the crowd squealed in delight. My cock hung out there for everyone to see. I danced, moving from girl to girl, showing my goods like I was on tge catwalk of a runway.

"Let's give him a hand, girls," one girl said.

Everyone cheered and clapped like I had hit a home run at a ball game. I felt flattered and awkward at the same time. That was one of the strangest ovations I had ever received---not many people can get an ovation for showing their cock to people.

"So, are we the hottest party you've had?" one girl asked.

"That's hard to say because I have done a lot of parties with a lot of hot girls," I said, causing some girls to raise their eyebrows. "But I can say this: Y'all are easily up there with one of the hottest." Everyone smiled at this. That wasn't a lie either. These girls were all very beautiful.

Unfortunately, I forgot to keep track of the time. By the time I finished the party and returned to my car, it was already 8:00. My next party was scheduled for 8:30 and it was three hours away. I began to panic.


Party #3...Contined here: Tropical Storm Blackout: Part 2