The following story is a chapter from my book, "Behind the G-String: Dion's Guide to Becoming a Male Stripper"
Her Dirty Little Secret
It’s easy to guess what men do when they fraternize. But when women get together, they partake in activities that would appall and shock most men.
Not all men, though.
For some reason, ladies tend to let their guard down in front of male strippers. Strippers show up to entertain them, not pass moral judgment. We become invisible ghosts at these parties, witnessing acts we would never see under normal circumstances.
I had a bachelorette party in Florida for a group of girls just out of college. There were eight girls total, around 23 to 24 years of age. They requested a cop outfit. My customer contact was a girl named Katelyn, and she seemed lively and eager over the phone. Katelyn and her friends had never had a male stripper before.
When I arrived at their beach condo, Katelyn met me alone outside to pay. She was tall, hovering an inch or two above me. Her blonde hair and doll-like face made for a fetching combination. We discussed my entrance. Then she went inside to wait with the rest of her friends.
Clad in my police uniform with a flashlight in hand, I pounded on the front door. Katelyn opened the door anxiously. I announced that the neighbors had called and complained about the loud noise. Katelyn apologized on the behalf of her friends. I asked if I could come inside and “take a look around.” Katelyn invited me in, and I made my way into the living room, giving a lecture about noise violations and how much their citation fees are. The bride, unaware that I was a stripper, nodded along, vowing to keep the noise down.
Her fearful expression changed to astonishment once someone started the music. I began to strip for her.
She loved my strip show, but she wanted very little physical contact. She suggested I circulate among her friends instead. We went through the typical private party activities: fishing money out of bras with the teeth, the male stripper version of lap dancing, humiliating the shy girls, burying my crotch into a few faces, and some kinky games with the blindfold. Once I finished the activities, it was picture time.
Had the party ended here, it would have been on a good note at the end of a nice melody. Everything went perfectly according to plan. Great crowd, great tips, and a great performance.
However, the girls proposed that I stay with them to play beer pong … with a twist.
Whenever someone scored, the opposing team would have to remove one article of clothing. Hmmm … Eight girls playing a game involving stripping, and I’m the only guy. I did not need much convincing.
We made teams of two. A petite brunette in booty shorts volunteered to team up with me. The other team was Katelyn and the bride.
The other girls rooted for Katelyn and the bride. They wanted me to lose so I could strip completely naked. That was okay with me, but I stipulated that my teammate had to strip first considering I had already removed most of my clothing. The girls agreed. I smiled inwardly. The whole scenario sounded like a rigged lottery where I was the winner regardless of the numbers.
Unfortunately for the crowd, my teammate was amazing at beer pong. Her throws had perfect accuracy, and after a few turns, the bride and Katelyn stood on the other side of the table wearing only their panties. They managed to score once before they lost, causing my teammate to lose her shirt.
We played a new round. We had two new challengers. My teammate and I devastated them down to their thongs. My teammate scored most of the points, but I did all right since I was the only sober one there. Our win came at a price, though—my teammate lost her bra and her booty shorts. Only her pink thong with black polka dots remained.
Throughout our bouts of beer pong, the girls asked me about stripping. “What was your craziest party?” “Do any girls ever try to hook up with you?” One girl suspected me of stuffing my thong. “You put something in there to make it look bigger,” she said. I laughed and shrugged, but didn’t say anything. She would see it soon enough if my team lost.
Two more girls stepped up to the table. They were just as good as my teammate. It was a close game. Both teams had one cup remaining. I almost ringed their cup, but it hit the lip of the cup and bounced away. My teammate missed her shot. The opposing girl threw the ball and it went straight into our last cup.
Everyone cheered and looked at me expectantly.
“Take it off! Take it off!” they chanted. “Take it off!”
They were shouting so loudly that I’m surprised their neighbors did not call the actual police. I reached down undid the metal snaps that kept my thong on.
“Wow! I didn’t know it would snap off like that!” my teammate said. “So I could have just unsnapped it the whole time?”
“Pretty much,” I said, slowly peeling the thong away. “And here’s your answer to the previous question.”
My cock came out and hung down.
All eyes were on my cock. It was like one of those dreams where you’re naked in public and everyone is staring. Except this time, the girls cheered at my nudity rather than staring in horror. Sometimes, reality is better than the dream world.
I resumed dancing with the girls. The performance took on a renewed vigor with everyone being nude or close to it. Breasts bounced and jostled in front of my face. One blonde girl picked up my thong and put it on. It looked nice on her except for the bulging fabric in the front. “It has space for my non-existent package,” she exclaimed.
Everyone laughed. However, my thong looked fantastic on her ass. She pranced around—pretending to be me—dancing on the other girls and thrusting her imaginary penis at them.
The girls who weren’t dancing with me kneaded at each other’s breasts like nursing kittens. They compared density, size, and firmness. This wasn’t the first time I’ve seen such a spectacle, so I wasn’t surprised. But to the average guy, this phenomenon is as incomprehensible as a party of straight males whipping their dicks out and letting each other grab them for comparison. It would never happen.
Katelyn hovered around me most of the time. We discussed books we’d read. She seemed well-read and intelligent. I learned that she worked in marketing and hated her office job. While we were talking, I stole many glances at her large, bare breasts. My cock brushed against her leg and got hard. Katelyn was standing between me and her friends when this happened, so they did not witness my unintended prodding. Katelyn continued talking about her job as though nothing had happened, but her eyes dipped downward and she smiled.
It had been a few hours since I’d arrived. A few girls yawned while one began dozing off on the couch. I thanked everyone and went to collect my belongings.
“I’ll walk you out,” Katelyn offered. “Let me put some clothes on.”
“Okay," I said, knowing full well of her intentions.
We went out of the condo together and walked down the stairs on the front porch. When we got to the bottom, Katelyn turned to me and said, “Well, it was nice to meet you. Take care.” She shuffled around nervously and leaned forward to give me an awkward hug. As she began to pull away at the end of our hug, I grabbed her hands and reeled her toward me. “Okay, to hell with it,” she said.
Our make-out session led to enthused caressing of intimate places. I led her under the stairs so we weren’t in plain view of anyone who happened to be taking a stroll in the parking lot. Voices deep in conversation echoed from the distance, and I didn’t want to give an unintentional peep show. I took my shirt off. Katelyn unbuttoned and unzipped my pants. As I pulled my cock out, she took her shorts off and kept her t-shirt on.
“I wanna fuck you so bad,” she gasped. Next, she squatted down and began sucking my cock in a slick and steady rhythm. She was very good at this. Had she continued for another minute or two, I would have erupted into her mouth. Instead, she stood up and turned around, thrusting her ass towards me. I reached down to my pants, which were around my ankles, and pulled out a condom. I rolled it on and eased my cock into her. She moaned. Just as we were about to establish a comfortable repetitious motion, someone opened the front door of the condo.
We couldn’t see who it was because we were under the stairs. The surprise was neutralizing to our sexual efforts. Katelyn immediately stood up and covered her breasts. “I’m okay,” she shouted to the unidentified friend above.
We heard the sound of the door closing.
“I guess she went back inside,” I said.
We resumed our passion, or as much passion as a couple can produce outside under wooden stairs next to a lit parking lot. The occasional noise of a car door slamming in the distance or voices at another condo set us at unease, but we continued. After we were finished, we kissed.
“So how long are you here till?” I asked her.
“Till Monday morning. Why don’t you come hang out with us at the beach tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I can do that. We should keep in touch. I head up to Georgia on occasion.”
“Really? Call me whenever you’re in town. I have a really nice apartment. You can stay with me, and there are plenty of things to do.”
“Well, what if you have a boyfriend by that time?” I asked.
“I won’t,” Katelyn said. “I just got out of a three year relationship.”We never finalized any plans. I haven’t heard from her since. It was another night of work for me, but it was lascivious encounter with a male stripper for Katelyn.