Saturday, March 23, 2013

Mississippi Bachelorette Party: 03-22-2013

State Flag of Mississippi at night.
My agent called me, asking if I wanted to do a bachelorette party in Mississippi on Friday night, March 22. This town in Mississippi was about three hours away from my house. Now I love my job and all, but driving three hours to get there takes away the fun. I really didn't want to do the party, but I've been turning down a lot of work lately due to my Caribbean vacation among a few other things.

Also, Mississippi lacked (and still does as of the time of this writing) a generous offering of male strippers. My agent wouldn't have been able to get another stripper to fill the role because I was the only male stripper he had who covered that area. 

So I took the job.

To compensate for the three hour drive, my agent increased the standard fee and decided to give me larger share of his cut. Very kind of him. 

The customer---I'll refer to her as 'Vee'---requested a doctor's outfit as the costume. Interesting fetish. However, I did not have any scrubs or anything that would have me pass as a doctor. When I called Vee via phone, she said to wear "wear something sexy." I wore a new pair of faux-leather pants, a button-collared shirt, shiny urethane-coated briefs (to conceal my tan line from the Caribbean), and of course, my stripper boots.

After a long a boring drive across parts of Alabama and Mississippi, I arrived and met Vee at 10 p.m. and collected the payment. The party took place at her apartment. Her roommate was the bachelorette.

All of the girls were black, except for one white girl. There were ten total all of them were in their early 20's. About half of them looked attractive and dressed well... And they loved every minute of my performance.

No one drank any alcoholic beverages. Therefore, we did not do any bodyshots. Instead, I just snatched dollars bills from cleavage with my mouth, danced, groped, and got groped. Typical routine, but the girls and I enjoyed each others' company. They stuffed each other with dollar bills, and after hopping around a few girls, my underwear couldn't hold all the money and it started dropping onto the floor, scattering like leaves across the lawn.

One girl wore a skirt with thigh-high leather boots. She was very dark-skinned and one of the most beautiful girls there. She was engaged, saying that she hadn't "been with another man in two years." Her enthusiasm reflected her statement for she traced her nails lightly around my hips, trailing to the inside of my thighs and up my abs. When I straddled her, I grabbed her boots and imitated licking them for her friends taking pictures.

"What's your name?" the girl in the thigh-high leather boots asked.


"Mmmm, Dion," she said, as though she was tasting the words. "I'm going to name my sex toy after you."

Her sister, about as equally attractive, danced with me next. She must had taken gymnastics or ballet, because she a great body and was extremely flexible.

"Can you put your legs behind your head?" I asked her.

"Sure," she grinned, doing so with her toes pointing towards the ceiling. She looked tangled up like a pretzel.

I leaned over her. Our position looked similar to those pornos of flexible girls, and I began getting hard rubbing against her. She was wearing shiny tight leggings, and she had a camel toe which I was pressing against. She began breathing rhythmically.

After a few moments, I stood up. "I better quit," I announced to the other girls, "before I get too turned on."

"You should've kept going then," the flexible girl said. 

I interacted with all ten girls. Once I was done, we all took pictures together. First, the bachelorette and I posed together. Then the girl with the thigh-high boots and her sexy and flexible sister bundled up against me for the camera. For one picture, they both got on their knees, opened their mouths and stuck out their tongues towards my crotch. We took a few pictures in this position, then I thrust myself towards the inviting tongue causing much laughter among the crowd.

As I announced I was leaving, the girls offered me food and gathered all of the tip money from the floor and handed it to me. I hugged each girl and thanked them.

"You were a lot of fun, Dion," the one of the girls said. "You're laid back, like a country boy. We definitely gettin' you for our next party."

I walked out of that apartment with a smile and almost four-hundred dollars. Not bad, except the three-hour drive back home.

Wednesday, March 13, 2013


Overlooking the harbor.

The trip to the Caribbean via a large yacht was costly, but fun and relaxing. One of the highlights of my trip was an island called Saint Barthelemy, or St. Barts (pictured right), which belongs to France. The natives speak French, although many can speak English. The whole island gave me the impression that I was in a tropical France, as though a large giant broke off a chunk of land from France and placed it in the warm Caribbean.

The locals had a demeanor that reflected the warm climate around them, reminding me of the outgoing and open nature of people in the South.

One of the locals proudly explained to me that St. Barts lacks an income tax and property tax---the only taxes consisting of a 5% tax on imported goods and a 5% tourist tax which is tacked on hotel stays and other tourist expenses. "St. Barts has full employment because of few taxes," he boasted. Indeed, the quality of life there seemed much higher than any other country I have been to, and the people seemed happier in general as well. Out of the 9,000 inhabitants, I did not see one single homeless person in the mix (then again, I doubt any homeless person can reach the island without a plane or boat). That particular local elaborated that St. Barts often avoided the global problems of the outside world, such as wars and the economic recession from 2008.
Me, standing atop a cliff at St. Barts.

"It's easy to escape the world's problems here and remain ignorant," he said.

However, relocating there seemed to be a problem since one of the cheaper homes there would cost at least one million Euros, or 1.3 million dollars.

Another problem that the local pointed out to me was the gossip involved with living on a small island. "Everyone knows your business here," he said. Sounds like a place where you can develop a reputation across the entire community very quickly after a night of debauchery or two.

Still, I wouldn't mind having a winter home here and working as a male stripper on the island for private parties for locals and tourists. The money would be decent, but the lack of anonymity makes for a severe drawback. Everyone on the island would know who the male stripper was.

For a good portion of my stay in St. Barts, I went snorkeling along the reefs. I had an underwater camera so I took a lot of pictures in the water:

Swimming down to the bottom at about 30 feet.
A lot of fish hiding under a rock

Above shot of one of the rocks

The same rock, partially submerged shot.

The same rock again underwater.

I traveled to several other neighboring islands during my trip. At one island, I saw some gold and silver coins for sale--tax free. I couldn't pass that deal up, so I purchased a few.

The service on the yacht was impeccable, and the staff constantly asked if I wanted anything to eat and drink. Of course I said, yes, and gorged myself to the point of being full for almost the entire journey. As a result, I gained some body fat and a lot of my pants are feeling too tight around the waist area.

Now that I'm home, I have to redouble my efforts at the gym to lose this excess weight, especially before my agent books another show for me.

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Four Years of Blogging

I started this blog ( in March of 2009, and my web traffic has been increasing substantially with each passing year. I appreciate you readers out there.

To commemorate the past four years, here are some pictures of a bachelorette party: