Saturday, October 26, 2013

Highlights From September, 2013 - Part 3

September 28, 2013
This particular weekend was so booked that I had to turn down work. The Husband who hired me for his wife earlier this summer wanted me to “court” his wife once again, offering a large sum of money. I turned down his offer, suggesting he try again later. Then, I had two parties I had to turn down on Friday due to a family event.
I probably turned down at least $1,000 worth of gigs.
However, I did take on two bachelorette parties for Saturday night.
The first was at 8 p.m., and the second was scheduled for 9 p.m. The driving distance between the two was an hour and a half, so I called the second party and told them I would be late.
I arrived on time for the first group. They were from Texas. The customer who hired me was the Maid of Honor, a very tall, dark-haired girl with blue eyes. She stood at least a head over me with her high heels on.
The bride did not know I was coming, so I was to reprise my role of property management once again. The ploy was for me to fix a broken smoke detector.

When I entered, all of the girls sat at the dining table instead of the living room, so I felt rather awkward because they all stared at me in silence as I walked in front of the smoke detector located in the living room.
I tried to make small talk, but the words fumbled around in my mouth. I probably sounded lame. The fact that the other girls did little to play into the ruse made the situation more strained.
They did point to the bride at the end of the table. She was very tanned and dark-haired and wore a white miniskirt and a white top. I decided to drop my act, which was unsalvageable at this point, and approach her to start stripping.
“I knew it,” the bride said. “You were too awkward to be part of the hotel staff. Plus, the guy who came earlier today was old!”
Because it was difficult to strip for a girl at the dinner table, I took the bride towards the living room and guided her towards the couch where I did my striptease for her.  The other girls began stuffing dollar bills in her cleavage and in the crevice between her legs.
The bride’s white miniskirt did little to hide her white, mesh panties, which also did little to hide her shaven pussy underneath. I explored such regions as I took the dollar bills with my mouth, licking and kissing her in the process.
She was very frisky with me as I stripped for her. “If you only knew how much of a freak I am in bed,” she said, as I rubbed the front of my thong against her panties.
There was a short and very shy girl who could not stop laughing while I interacted with her. Her brown hair only came down to her jaw line, and she wore cowboy boots. I teabagged her, causing her to giggle uncontrollably.
“Her laughing feels like a vibrator,” I said to her friends. “It’s really turning me on.”
The shy girl’s giggling became even worse as her friends laughed at her expense.
One thing that this group liked to do was gather a large wad of dollar bills and throw over me while saying, “Make it rain!”
They did this several times and even posed for pictures around the scattered bills on the floor.
Although a few girls did not participate, the majority of them did with eager and groping hands. When I finished, they all applauded and cheered for me as I gave a courtesy bow.
Before I left, they asked me a lot of questions about my job. I stayed and answered them until I looked at the time. It was 9:30 p.m. 
I was supposed to be at the next party thirty minutes ago.
I arrived at the second party at 11 p.m.
The customer did not seem too upset. On the way, I called her several times to inform her of my status, and she said that she would occupy the bride’s attention until then. They had a lingerie party, presents, and dinner beforehand. Lucky for me, they did not make plans to go out.
For this party, I played the cop responding to a “noise complaint.”
The party in question took place in a high rise condominium on the beach. The girls rented a room on the tenth floor.
When the girls invited me inside, I announced to everyone in a stern tone that I was here on a noise complaint from their neighbors.
The crowd was a mix of ladies ranging from late 20s all the way to late 50s. The older ones were mothers or relatives of the bride.
“Sorry, we’re celebrating her bachelorette party,” one girl said, pointing to the bride.
The bride was a beautiful blonde girl with a slender, yet curvy figure. She wore a bra made of candy. A dollar stuck out of the bra. She stood up and approached me appearing nervous.
“I’m sorry, officer. I didn’t know we were being that loud.”
“Well, it doesn’t look like y’all are doing anything bad here, but I’m just lettin’ y’all know that if I have to come back out here again tonight, y’all are gonna get a noise citation.”
“We’ll be good,” the bride promised. “I’m so sorry that you had to come out here.”
“It’s all right,” I assured her. “So what’s goin’ on here?”
“We’re having my bachelorette party,” she said.
“Where’d y’all come in from?” I asked.
“Some of us from Alabama or Mississippi,” one lady answered.
“Well, I’ll tell ya what,” I said to the bride. “I normally wouldn’t do this, but how ‘bout I put you in handcuffs so your friends can take some pictures for a souvenir of your bachelorette party?”
“That’s a great idea!” one lady exclaimed.
“Okay,” the bride agreed.
I handcuffed her and all of her friends and family members took pictures.  I informed the ladies near the radio to turn the music up with a subtle nod towards the radio.
“Have a seat,” I said to the bride, helping her into a chair.
As soon as the music volume increased, I straddled the bride much to her utter surprise.
"Oh my!" she said. "I thought you were a cop the whole time!"
I motioned for her friends to stick dollar bills into her clothes. As I took them out with my mouth, she expressed pleasure by smiling or commenting on how “hot” I was. After interacting with her for awhile, I moved onto the other women. First, I repeated the same act with her friends, then with her mother.
While I had the bride’s mother on the couch, she wrapped her legs around me and looked to the bride and said, “Watch and learn from mama!”
Sometimes the ladies at these parties shock me beyond belief. I had to see it and hear it to believe it.
The mother was just as enthusiastic as the daughter. She even took a body shot off of me.
“You just made her day,” one of the older ladies said. “She hasn’t had that much action in awhile.”
“I haven’t had this much action in like ten years!” the mother said.
Everyone laughed.
A few ladies did not participate, but I returned the focus back to the bride. I took body shots off of her mid-section, which was very pleasant to look at since it was tanned with a belly-button piercing.
Then, one of the bride’s friends suggested I take a shot from between the bride’s breasts. So the bride took off her shirt, leaving only her bra on. She also unzipped her jeans and pulled them down, exposing her white panties with black lace along the edges.
Someone brought some whipped crème forward and sprayed it on the bride’s midsection.
“Take off your bra,” someone said.
So she did, exposing two perfectly small and round breasts. They were perky, pointing towards me at attention. I spread the whipped crème on both of her nipples and began to lick them off. Her nipples hardened. I began to get aroused.
Another round of whipped crème.
“I think he’s enjoying that more than you are,” one lady commented to the bride.
“I don’t know about that,” the bride said.
I had a gut feeling that some of the ladies disapproved. When I looked up, I noticed a few had retired to their rooms.  Oh well, not my problem.
The bride and her mother invited me to the kitchen to offer some food and cake.
While I was eating, several ladies, including the bride and her mother, hovered around me to ask questions.
“Do you get fully nude?”
“Sometimes,” I replied.
“I was sort of expecting you to pull it out for me,” the bride said. “But what I saw was very nice.”
An idea struck me. I decided to take a survey.

“So just out of curiosity, how many of you would have preferred if I got nude and hard.”
All of the women in the kitchen agreed that they wanted to see everything. The bride said that she would have loved to see it. I was already clothed by now and ready to leave though.
“Well, maybe next time!” I said.
“Yeah,” the bride said. “Can we just hire you even if it’s not for a bachelorette party?”
“Of course!” I said.
When I left, she gave me a kiss while we hugged. “Thank you,” she said in my ear, as she hugged me close. “I had a wonderful time.”
Besides being two hours late, I thought the performance was a success.
However, the next day, my agent sent me the following text message:
“Everything go ok with the 2nd show?  Customer left me a message this morning. Just asked for someone to call. Did not say anything else.”
I called him to find out more. However, that was all the information he had.
“She just called and asked to speak to a manager,” he said.  “She didn’t say anything bad or good. She could either be complaining or giving praise. So what happened?”
I explained how I was two hours late, but mentioned how much fun the bride had. I even went into details about how I was licking whipped crème off of her tits.

“Nice!” my agent said.
“So the party went well. The only thing I can think of is maybe my tardiness, or perhaps some girls got pissed about me sucking on the bride's tits, or maybe that I stayed to eat afterwards. But the bride offered... I can't really think of any other reasons.”

“Who knows?” he said. “She could have been calling to praise you. I’m not gonna to call her back, but if she calls back again, I just wanted to hear your side of what happened so I have a heads up.”
“Well, either way, I’ll send your cut of the money tomorrow.”
“Great! I’ll call you with more work later,” he said and hung up.
All in all, I earned over $500 for that Saturday. I could only imagine the amount of money had I worked the day before.

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Highlights From September, 2013 - Part 2

Mother & Daughter - September 14, 2013
A mother hired me for her daughter’s bachelorette party in Destin, Florida. As strange as it sounds, it is not uncommon. I had met many mothers throughout the years who liked to enjoy a male stripper alongside their daughters.

I met the mother prior to entering the resort hotel to collect payment and was pleasantly surprised by the sight of her. She epitomized the term “MILF” in every aspect. Fit, beautiful, tan, fake breasts, and a pretty face. She seemed very excited to see me and greeted me with a hug.  
I assumed the role of a maintenance man arriving to fix a broken shower head, which was actually broken. I tried to fix it, but it was missing a small piece. The daughter seemed suspicious despite my act.
When I emerged from the bathroom, she had already assumed that I was the stripper, so I began stripping for her.
“I knew it!” she said with a nervous laugh.
The crowd consisted of her friends and her mother’s friends. Most of them participated, and were a very nice bunch.
The mother was the most enthusiastic. She wanted to take a body shot off of me, and she was very flirty. I suspected that she secretly hired me more for her enjoyment than her daughter's. She even invited me to go out with the group; they were going in a limo to Panama City. I had work the very next morning though, so I politely declined her offer.
The daughter came up to me towards the end and asked, “Did we give you enough money in tips, or do you think we should give you more?”
I shook my head. “Tips aren’t necessary. A male stripper shouldn’t demand or expect it. I’d prefer to have a friendly crowd like y’all were rather than a rude crowd who tipped a lot.”
My words caused her to melt.
"Awww, you are sooo sweet!" She reached for her purse and pulled out a wad of cash. “Here.”
“You really don’t have to…”
“Take it,” she insisted.
I tried to refuse once me, but she thrust the cash into my hands. I thanked her with utmost sincerity.
Before I left, I took a picture of the bachelorette cake, which was of a muscular male torso with a large erect cock popping out of a black thong.

The cake
“That’s you,” one girl said to me.
“Yeah, I have a black thong on too,” I said.
“You should pose next to the cake.”
“With my cock out like that?” I joked.
“That’d be nice,” she smiled.

The mother asked me once more if I wanted to go out, but I really did have to work the next day, so I had to leave. Once I got home, I counted over $300 worth of money from this party. Not bad for thirty minutes of performing.
A few days later, the mother sent me this text message:
Hi Dion – just letting you know that we thought you were awesome this past Saturday! Thanks for a fantastic time!


Sunday, October 20, 2013

Highlights From September, 2013 - Part One

* Girls From Manhattan *

My agent booked a show for me with some customers from Manhattan, New York. He gave me a brief warning about them, which was out of the ordinary.

"Just give a call and calm her down," my agent said. "You're gonna be this group's first male dancer ever, and the customer was really nervous speaking to me over the phone. You might need to ease her into this."

When I called the customer, whose name was Jen, she did seem a little nervous and unsure of herself. Moreover, my initial thought from speaking with her was that this was going to be a difficult performance.

"We're a bunch of prudes," Jen told me over the phone. "Most of us are married, in our 30s, and never seen a male stripper before.

"The bride is very shy and reserved," she continued. "So no grinding or rubbing on her or anything too physical."

Being "too physical" is part of my job, so I really didn't know where to start. I walked Jen through what my typical routine would consist of, minus a few of my more risqué acts, so I suggested doing a striptease and taking dollar bills off the bride. Jen thought my idea was tame enough. She wanted me to show up as a cop. Since she and her friends were renting a resort cottage in the Florida Panhandle instead of a crowded resort hotel, I had no problem with handling her request.

"So do any of the other girls know I'm showing up?" I asked.

This was an important question because girls who are unpleasantly surprised tend to make horrible customers.

"No. Just one other person besides me."

Her answer worried me.

Jen also wanted me to arrive at midnight, another oddity. Most bachelorette parties take place in the evening before the ladies go out. This group would have me right before bed. The good thing about a late party was that there would be no rush.

When I arrived at the cottage just before midnight, Jen met me outside at my car. She handed me the money and gave me an appraising look.

"I like your costume," she said. "This will definitely work!"

She walked back inside the cottage. From my car, I could see the entire living room of the cottage through the large, front window. Several girls were jumping up and down on the couches. They were laughing, yelling, and having a drunk and merry time. Nothing prudish about any of it.

I walked up to the front door and banged on it. The bride, a pretty girl with brown hair, opened the door.

"Ma'am, I need to talk to you about your party," I said, gesturing for her to allow me inside.

She did, looking very bothered that I was there.

"First," I said, waving a hand towards the radio, "y'all gotta turn that down."

The bride motioned with urgency for her friends to turn the music off, which they did. The other ladies became quiet.

"I'm so sorry about that," the bride said, turning to me and looking very apologetic. "We'll keep it quiet."

"Well, just lettin' ya know that if I better not have to come out here again," I said.

A hipster girl with glasses sneered at me. From her perch on the upper part of the couch, she asked, "Why do you have to be such a dick?"

I turned and stared at her. Everyone else gasped in surprise. The bride rounded on the hipster girl and urged her to shut up.

The hipster girl continued, "Everyone is having a good time and you're just being an asshole and ruining our fun."

"I'll tell you what, ma'am. I've only been here for a minute and you're already startin' to piss me off. Keep it up and I'll find a reason to throw your ass in jail."

"Find a reason then!" the hipster girl said.

By now, the bride was horrified. She tried to intervene and stop her friend.

"Shut up!" she told her friend. Then she turned to me and said, "I'm so sorry about her, officer."

I placed my hand on her shoulder and suggested that she sit down, while turning around and gesturing for Jen to turn the music up. The bride became flustered the turn of events, and as soon as she took a seat, the music came on. I began dancing and unbuttoning my police shirt.

Her eyes widened and she screamed in delight.

"I thought you were a real cop!" she said.

Once my shirt came off, the bride's hands found their way to my chest and abs. She groped and squeezed my muscles like I was her personal play toy.

Her friends crammed dollar bills into her bra and pants. Her laughter was full of mirth as I took each bill from her.

These girls weren't prudish at all.

Jen tapped me on the shoulder, wearing a look of approval, and said, "Your cop routine alone was worth the money for you coming out here!"

That comment made me happy. She was already a satisfied customer, and I had barely even started.

About half of the ladies did not participate. Those who did seemed to take sexual pleasure in my performance.

"There aren't many guys like you in Manhattan," an Indian lady said.

"Definitely not," her friend agreed. "The Southern accent is an extra charm."

Jen seemed to enjoy my company the most. After her friends and the bride were finished with me, she invited me to stay. Most of the crowd began to retire for the night.

I went in the kitchen with Jen where we talked a lot. A few other ladies joined for a short time, but they soon left us alone.

Jen suggested we dance together, so we reentered the living room and danced salsa, two-step, and even swing. She was much better than I was, and even corrected my mistakes. We smiled at each other as we trotted through the steps.

We made an odd duo. She wore a one-piece dress, and I wore a black pleather thong.

"You have a really hot body," she said shyly, admiring me up and down while we danced. "I just thought I'd tell you that."

After we danced, we talked some more for awhile. I discovered that she worked as a talent agent in Manhattan. She asked me a lot of questions about my job, such as how I got started and how long I have been doing it. I really enjoyed talking to her, and wanted to spend more time with her.

It was late now, about 2 o'clock in the morning. Almost everyone was asleep, or falling asleep. It was time for me to go.

Jen offered to walk me out.

"You were perfect," she said. "And attractive. This turned out to be a great experience. I was skeptical at first."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," I said.

We hugged and she kissed me on the cheek. She was still close to me.

"Well, too bad I didn't know you when I was in Manhattan last year," I said.

"If you come up again, give me a call. I'll be happy to show you around, Dion."

We hugged again. This time, we kissed each other on the lips. A light peck. Then our tongues intertwined.

She pulled away, as though she were on guard. I wondered if she was married or had a boyfriend. I remembered her words from earlier: "Most of us are married, in our 30s, and never seen a male stripper before."

Either way, I decided that it was best to go. However, we decided that one more hug was necessary, which led to another kiss. I ran my fingers through her blonde hair as I kissed her. We pulled away slowly.

"I had fun, Dion," she whispered. "I won't forget this. Call me if you're ever in Manhattan."

She stood on the front porch of the cottage and gave a final wave as I walked to my car. She returned back to Manhattan the next morning. I haven't heard from her since, but maybe I'll see her again in the future. Or maybe I'll just become a distant memory.

Saturday, October 12, 2013

Miramar Beach Condo Revisited

Back in 2010 (or maybe it was 2011), I stripped for a bachelorette party at a beach condo in Miramar Beach, Florida. It was a 4-story house with a Jacuzzi and a heated and lighted swimming pool that overlooked the white sandy beach and the Gulf of Mexico. It was a beautiful place, and I wouldn't mind living there, except during hurricane season. I really wanted to swim in that pool last time and admired the ocean view.

That party back then knew a girl who owned the condo. They were a rowdy bunch of girls that were really fun, but a little too much on the demanding side. Nevertheless, I had a great time. I tried to sift through my archives to see if I wrote about that particular party, but I don't think I did.

Last night, which was October 11, 2013, I had a bachelorette party for this very same beach condo.

As soon as I pulled up to the house, I recognized the place immediately. I wondered if these girls were the same group as before. It wouldn't be the first time.

When two girls came outside to pay me, they did not recognize me.

When I went inside to perform, no one recognized me. Everyone was a strange to me as well. I began to doubt if this was the actual place.

I looked out onto the back patio and saw the same lighted pool and heated Jacuzzi. There was no mistake. This was the place.

Throughout the mayhem, I asked about the condo. The girls told me that a "friend owned the place" and was letting them use it. Same story. I wondered how rich and generous this "friend" was.

Anyway, it was a fun, but reserved party. The girls did not want too much interaction, but they had a blast watching me dance with the bachelorette. Enough girls participated to remove the burdening sense of awkwardness.

The crowd peer pressured a few single girls into having a turn with me. The single girls did not want to participate, especially one petite blonde. She wanted me off of her, but her friends held her down and demanded that I give her a "good grinding."

She acted like she hated every minute of it, but throughout the party, she hovered around me, stuffing dollars into my thong, grabbing my ass, and caressing my muscles. When I spoke with her, I held her hand, and she loved it. Perhaps she was turned on from earlier. I wanted to give her more attention, but everyone else continued to redirect me back to the bachelorette.

One girl came up to tell me how hot I was. She told me that I was hot  and sexy at least two dozen times.

"The only reason I'm not all over you right now is because I'm married, but damn, you're so hot and amazing!" she said.

I told her that her compliments were beginning to embarrass me.

She continued, "Every girl here thinks you're hot too. Most of them aren't participating because they're shy or married, but they're eyeing you!"

I didn't know if she was just trying to flatter me, but the tip money echoed her sentiments. Several twenty-dollar bills accompanied the ones. I would leave this party well paid.

When I got dressed to leave, I went out on the back patio to bid farewell to everyone. The bachelorette and a few girls were swimming around the pool. A few of them were topless, but the bachelorette had all of her clothes on.

The bachelorette climbed out to give me a hug. She was completely soaked. Oh well. I gave her a hug. I was wearing a button down shirt, my pleather pants, and my knee high boots.

"Come join us in the water," she said with a slur and a stumble.

"No, that's all right," I said.

She attempted to grab me and pull me into the water, but her drunkenness caused to sway in the direction of the of metal rail and the stairs leading out of the pool. Had she continued her course, she probably would have injured herself.

I leaped into action, embraced her, and twisted away from the rail and the stairs. We landed in the shallow end of the pool, but struck nothing. My clothes were soaked. Luckily I left my phone in the car.

Well, I got to swim in the pool finally. It was heated and felt great. I enjoyed the scenery of the ocean view, the white sandy beach, and the other topless girls in the pool with me.

One concerned girl asked if I had my phone on me. I assured her that I didn't. She got me a towel to dry off with and told me that I could it.

As I left, the girls vowed to hire me again for their next party.

"We come here all the time to party, and we want you to strip for us again... Maybe next time we'll get crazier!"

Money earned: $452 (maybe a little more, considering the money that fell under the couches and table).

Sunday, October 6, 2013

Another Website Booking - Part 2

I had another performance a few hours ago (click here to read the initial contact).

The crowd was very enthusiastic, even to the point of shouting at me to take my clothes off. Most of the girls were shy though and only participated with great reluctance mixed with intense peer pressure. Still, they were a fun crowd that gave me plenty of smiles and laughs.

The girl who hired me was a makeup artist. I'll call her "T." She promised to refer more customers to me since a lot of them are soon-to-be brides.

After I left, T sent me this text message:

"Hey Dion! Thanks so much for coming out!! We had a great time! I'll email you some pixs when I get a chance."

So far, this blog has been great in getting me good customers. It's two for two now.

T, if you're reading this, thank you again for hiring me!

Friday, October 4, 2013

Another Website Booking

When I first started this blog, I never imagined in a lifetime that I would make money from it.

Last weekend a local girl contacted me via e-mail, saying how much she loved the blog and that she wanted to book me for an upcoming bachelorette party. She asked me about my rates.

I told her $200 for me to show up, and gave her a brief summary on my stripping routine and what I could do. She countered back saying that her friend had another male stripper willing to do $150. Since this girl lived 20 minutes away from my house, I felt a little uneasy stripping for her and told her so in a nice way. I suggested that she hire the other male stripper, especially since he was cheaper.

"Price is not the issue," I said. "I just avoid stripping in my hometown. What if I know you or your friends?"

"You probably don't, but I'll send a picture anyway."

She e-mailed me two pictures (and did not want me to share them). She was right. I did not recognize anyone. Most of them were hot though.

Moreover, she offered me $200 and told me that even if she and her friends recognized me, they would keep it a secret. "We all have careers and reputation to worry about too," she said.

"Why didn't you settle with the other guy?" I asked her.

"Well, you sounded really nice and professional, like you care about customer satisfaction and you know what you're doing. The other guy didn't."

So I am booked for her party tomorrow night.