Stripper's Log: November 18, 2011

Yesterday, I had a bachelorette party that sounded promising. The girl who hired me was called Amanda, and her eager and excited tone gave me the hint that this was going to be an exciting party. "The bride is really wild," Amanda told me. "She's going to be down for whatever you do to her, and she's going to be all over you."

Amanda told me the location of the party, which would be at the soon-to-be-bride's house. She also wanted me to dress as a cop and arrive around 9 o'clock. I spoke with Amanda a bit more to get more of a feel for the party and learned that the bride was from Poland and that she would love a male stripper. Her mother, who was also from Poland, was going to be there as well. So far, Amanda's story of the bride told me that I was going to have a bachelorette fondling and groping me more in relation to the amount of alcohol imbibed.

At 7 o'clock, I sent a text message to Amanda asking if the party was still good to go. She replied back, wanting to move the party back to 10 o'clock because the girls were still eating at a restaurant. That was fine with me. It gave me more time to prepare.

At 8:56, Amanda sent me this text message (text message is unedited):

"Something just went down, groom is pissed, we have to cancel. I am so sorry."

Rarely in my career as a stripper has anyone ever cancelled one hour before a show. One day perhaps, but not one hour. I wasn't mad at all. Just curious. I had to find out what happened. Below is the text conversation that I had with Amanda:

Me - 8:57 PM : It's okay. What happened?

Amanda - 8:58 PM : Bad fall out with groom. We are all leaving. I have never been apart of such a circus. I am so sorry.

Me - 9:06 PM : It's fine. Sorry you couldn't have fun. Did the groom show up or something?

Amanda - 9:14 PM : He changed his plans and decided to stay at the house. I tried to tell him that we were hoping for some girl time and he got very disrespectful. We are all leaving and getting a hotel room :(

After reading that, I was glad that she cancelled when she did. If such a dramatic scene unfolded with just the girls there, I could only imagine what would have happened had I shown up and stripped for the bride. The pay loss from such a cancellation was well worth avoiding such a situation.

Here is my theory on what happened: The groom knew that his fiance was a wild party girl and didn't trust her alone with a bunch of girls. Therefore, he showed up to crash the party to prevent anything from happening. Of course, every girl was probably thinking that he was the biggest asshole in the world, but I can't really blame the guy. His suspicions were dead on---his fiance, according to Amanda, was wild and she probably would have tried to "get crazy" with me.

So while I applaud this guy for putting his foot down and standing his ground, I cannot help but wonder why he's marrying such a wild party girl in the first place if he feels like he cannot trust her alone. Hence, this is another example of a man who chooses a mate based on girl's beauty rather than her morals and principles.

Stripper's Log: Friday, 11-11-11

Earlier in the week, I stripped for a 40th birthday party at a beach condo by the Gulf of Mexico. These ladies came all the way down from Illinois, and they requested for a "cowboy stripper" for their wild time away from home. The birthday lady was a small, petite blonde. She had no idea I was coming.

Because I came as a cowboy, my pre-stripping routine came off as awkward. Usually, I arrive as a cop and tell the party that I am responding to a "noise violation" or such nonsense. As a cowboy wearing faux-leather pants, I could not create any justifiable excuse for being there. Nonetheless, I showed up pretending to be a friend of one of the girls, and believe it or not, the birthday girl bought into the charade.

All was well until she discovered that I was an actual stripper. Her reaction stopped me dead in my tracks. She clenched her jaw and glared at the lady who hired me, swearing at her and even kicking at her. "Why the fuck did you hire a stripper for?" she demanded.

At this point, I was wondering if I was even going to strip. In my whole career as a male stripper, I cannot remember a woman becoming angry at having a male stripper. Shocked or embarrassed, maybe. But not angry. The other ladies tried to soothe the birthday girl, but placed her hand against her forehead and sighed in exasperation.

"My husband would kill me! I can't believe you did this."

"No one will say anything," one lady said.

After much coaxing and cajoling, the petite birthday lady finally acquiesced to peer pressure. "Okay, okay... Go ahead," she said, beckoning me with her hand.

Her friends responded gleefully by shoving dollars into her. Before I dove in for them, I told the birthday lady to let me know if I was pushing any boundaries. Then, I proceeded to extract a few dollars from her bra.

"Oh my God, I'm cheating on my husband," she said.

"No you're not," another lady said. "Just enjoy it."

As though she were participating in a poker tournament, her face read no emotion as I took off my cowboy hat and placed it on her head. She wasn't impressed when I took off my shirt. However, when I thrust my ass towards her and pulled down my pants, she came to life.

"Wow," she said, grabbing my ass and shoving a few dollars into my thong. "Okay, maybe this was a good idea.

I turned and faced her and noticed that she just stared at the front of my thong where my cock was. She pulled the top down a bit and tucked a dollar in far enough down that I felt her fingers brush the base of my cock.

Soon several other girls joined in to put money in my thong. These girls came prepared with money. Not only did they use one-dollar bills, but they used fives, tens, and twenties. After awhile, my thong could not hold any more money---I felt as though I were wearing a money belt. One lady waved a hundred-dollar bill at me, then she shoved it into her bra right on her nipple. After I got it out, another lady sprayed whipped-creme on her chest and wanted me to lick it off.

The birthday girl continued drinking, and she hugged me, caressed me, and spanked me more and more as the night went on. The other girls marveled at my Southern accent and asked if I was embellishing it. I assured them that was my usual manner of speaking.

After announcing group photos to conclude the party, the petite blonde approached me and hugged me. "Dion, you were my first stripper, and you're the best. I'm sorry how I reacted at first. I was a bit overwhelmed. But you made this the best birthday ever."

Relationships

Several readers have commented about whether or not I had relationships because I write more about hooking up with girls than dating them. I have had several relationships, but never thought anyone wanted to read about them. In truth, most of my relationships were mundane and not worth writing about.

So to quell the many questions about my love life, I'll give a brief run through of the more prominent relationships that come to mind:

Jackie -

I don't have anything bad to say about her. In 2000, Jackie and I met at a club of all places. We danced at first, then talked for awhile, and she gave me her number. To my surprise, she actually answered her phone when I called the next day and we talked for hours. She was a year older than I was and already had a child, a son. She was very intelligent, hard-working, and self-motivated. I wanted a serious relationship with her, but I was moving to Gainesville soon to attend the University of Florida. Jackie told me that a long distance relationship wouldn't work, but we kept in contact through the years.

When I became a male stripper, Jackie felt complete and utter shock because she could not imagine me as one, because I was "shy" and "quiet." Nonetheless, she cheered me on. I graduated UF and landed a job in Japan. She was one of the few people who would actually call me while I was over there. When I returned, we dated a short time. She wanted a relationship and even dropped a few hints about marriage, but by this time, I felt that I wasn't ready for a relationship. She ended up marrying someone and moving on. The last time I saw her was in a grocery store. She had her son with her, and she was pregnant. We spoke for awhile, hugged, and then parted ways. Knowing her, I'm sure she is doing fine now.

Karin -

She was a European girl I met during tennis class. Our relationship started out heated at first, but a language barrier and cultural differences drove the wedge between us. We would have fights over trivial matters such as me owning a gun, something which many American girls would ignore. On top of that, Karin had to go back to Europe, so we tried the long-distance relationship because we thought it could work. I must admit, it was one of my dumber ideas. Our relationship ended when Karin called me from Europe one day to inform me that she hooked up with a guy at a club.

A larger story exists between me and Karin, since she partially influenced my decisions to become a male stripper. Perhaps I'll write more about it one day...

Alishia -

After Karin, I dated Alishia. I even wrote a whole story about her. Click here to read it: Male Stripping History Pisses Off Girl.

Naoko -

When I first arrived in Japan for work after college, I made a vow to myself to never date a Japanese girl. Relationships are hard work without a language barrier and cultural differences bogging them down further, and I did not want to repeat the mistakes I made with Karin. However, I didn't make any friends at first. I dated a Canadian girl and a Scottish girl---both girls did not work out. After a few months of going to work and going back home to my small apartment, life in Japan began to get very lonely. I had no friends, no family, and I was in a different culture where everyone spoke a different language.

So when Naoko came into my life, I had forsaken my vow and dated her. It wasn't a bad time. Naoko was an extremely kind and caring person, raised in the traditional Japanese manner where manners, elegance, and the ability to please a husband took priority. I'm sure that she would have made a great wife had I married her, but I would have been unhappy. We separated before I left Japan. I hope she has found her happiness by now---she deserves it.

The Writer -

I met The Writer in 2007. The reason I am calling her "The Writer" is because she is an actual published romance novelist, and a quick use of Google can produce a good amount information about her, and I will not list her name here since I'm sure that she wants no affiliation with my blog. Anyway, we dated and I quit stripping because I liked her so much. We eventually got engaged. However, we were two different people with two different lifestyles: She likes to drink at bars or sit and watch t.v. on the couch; I like to work out and do adventurous outdoor activities such as kayaking or hunting. Moreover, I caught her in several lies and lost my trust and respect for her as a result. I should have ended it, but I actually wanted to try my best to fix things. Instead, I dragged out the relationship until we were almost at each others' throats.

Note: Before I met The Writer, I had my male stripper blog on another website with a few older stories. Well, she read it when we first started dating and told me that it was garbage and that no one would ever want to read it (of course, I'll let you readers decide that from now on). Since she was a published author and I liked her so much, I believed her and deleted the site along with all my stories. As I got to know her, I just realized that she loathed my stripping job, which was understandable. Moreover, she hated the idea of me writing any stories pertaining to it.  If I have one regret, then it's deleting my old stories for her.

I hope this post answers some of the questions that y'all had about my relationship experiences. In the meantime, you can e-mail me questions or comments here: sinistralmetal@yahoo.com

The Bachelor(ette) Party Conundrum

Several people have asked me if I would ever approve of my future bride having a male stripper at her bachelorette party, especially since knowing first hand the crazy stuff that can happen at these parties. This may surprise some of you, but my answer is no. I disapprove of most forms of bachelorette parties. Before some of you jump onto my case about being a hypocrite, I also disapprove most forms of bachelor parties.

There are many ways to celebrate bachelor(ette) parties. Some people just have a mild party that involves family and friends. Others just get together with their best friends and have a vacation or partake in a shared hobby. Think of it as the pre-wedding party or event---it allows friends to spend time with each other before the busy and hectic wedding day. During the past 30 or 40 years though, bachelor/bachelorette parties evolved into a crazy event where you do perform "final act as a single person before tying the knot." This act involves getting together with your friends, getting smashed, going out to the clubs, getting a stripper, and vowing to keep a secret of the entire night. Hence, the slogan "What happens at a bachelor(ette) party, stays at a bachelor(ette) party."

These are the parties I disapprove of. Let's factor in all the ingredients: loads of alcohol, a whole night without the fiance, strippers or someone hot at the club, and your friends promising to keep your secrets... Sounds like a recipe for disaster. On top of that, mixing alcohol into any situation tends to provide tragic results such as cheating, distrust, or fighting.

Guys, if your girl likes to go out without you to ladies' night out at the club to get drunk, then you should be wary. Girls, if your guy likes to go out without you with his buddies to get drunk, he may be looking for trouble---unless he just loves to watch sports or play video games a lot. Keep this in mind: Not everyone who goes out drinking or partying without his or her significant other is a cheater, but everyone who is a cheater tends to go out drinking or partying without his or her significant other.

You should know your partner before marrying. The warning signs are there for those of you in relationships. Many people who desire to party with their friends while omitting the significant others often ask for trouble. I understand that this is not always the case. Some may argue that they have only innocent intentions of "having fun" when going out and drinking, but consider this: Every relationship has a low point where both partners cling to each other by a thin thread; therefore, going out and drinking provide the knife to severe this thread. Add a bachelor(ette) party to that mix and it can provide the fatal blow to the relationship.

Although I disagree with the concept of the bachelor(ette) party, there are innocent bachelor(ette) parties that consist of pure fun with friends. I have seen such nice parties with my own eyes. However, I have also seen bachelorettes who wanted to sleep with me, and I know that their marriage will not last. Not everyone is out there to cheat, but if you're already having misconceptions about your fiance's upcoming bachelor(ette) party, then you may need to sit down and reconsider getting married.

As for what I would do if I were ever to get married, I would have a mixed bachelor and bachelorette party where friends and family come together for a good time. This would involve a lot of food, games, and activities for everyone to enjoy. Perhaps a vacation for everyone involved. It may sound lame, but I don't desire a stripper or a wild night out because as you can see, I've had enough wild nights to last a life time. In addition, I will make sure that my partner isn't the type of girl who enjoys naughty thrills behind my back. This type of party is not for everyone, but by doing things this way, I remove all the bad ingredients for a disastrous recipe that I have witnessed so many times in person throughout my career as a male dancer.

The Good Girl - Bad Girl Paradox

On the first day of October, a group of girls booked me for a last-minute bachelorette party in southern Alabama. The girl I talked to on the phone wanted me to show up as a cop. Her raspy voice gave me the impression that she was an older lady who chain smoked, but beyond that, I could distinguish little else. When I tried to ask for more details about the party, she told me that she had to go and hung up on me. Another stingy and prudish party, I thought. Was I ever wrong.

The party took place in a beach resort hotel, and I brought a small suitcase with my police uniform and gun belt inside since I sure as hell wasn't going to walk around the hotel as a cop. The girl I talked to on the phone said that she would meet me downstairs. I entered through the sliding glass door entrace of the hotel and scanned through a small crowd of people in the lobby. A slender, young, brunette dressed in tight clothes and heels stood near the entrance as if she were searching for someone. She looked at everyone entering, and as soon as she saw me, she stared. I assumed that I looked more like a male stripper than everyone else around me, especially the elderly couple and the family with a bunch of kids. I waved at her, and she flashed me a smile and beckoned me.

"Dion, right? Nice to meet you. I'm Desi."

As soon as we shook hands, she started walking toward the elevators asking me questions about my profession on the way. The throaty voice I heard on the phone was gone, replaced by a more youthful melodic tone. Perhaps she just sounded bad on the phone. Either way, I didn't question her about it. We got on the elevator, which had a glass wall that gave a view of the white sandy beach of Alabama. Desi pulled out some money, counted it, and handed it to me. "It should all be there. Now about the bachelorette. Her name is Laura. She's really blonde and she's the only one wearing a white dress."

"And she doesn't know I'm coming, right?"

"Right, but everyone else knows. Anything we should do?"

I told Desi the routine: play along to my cop routine and stick dollar bills into the bachelorette's clothes so I can get them out. Informing customers of this tactic not only increases the amount of money earned for me, but it provides a fun game to pass the time. With male stripping, passing time is everything. The girls expect a male stripper for thirty minutes to an hour, so any game that kills time is essential. Moreover, these games provide a hell of a lot more embarrassment and pleasure than taking off clothes and dancing in place would.

The elevator stopped on the fifteenth floor. As soon as we stepped out, the sound of music and girls talking reverberated from an slightly open door down the hall. Desi walked toward that door and told me that she was going to go ahead of me and to enter whenever I was ready. I asked her what to do with my suitcase since I didn't want to leave it in the hallway.

"Just put it by the door when you enter. Everyone is in the living room. They won't see you."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Just give me a few minutes to change and I'll be in."

Just before the doorway of the party was another hallway perpendicular to the main hall. I went down this hall and rounded a corner to conceal myself from anyone passing through. Getting caught changing clothes in a hotel hallway is a suspicious matter in the very least. Getting caught changing into a police uniform in a hotel hallway defies any logical explanation possible, ensuring a dose of trouble and a possible trip to jail. Hence, I acted fast.

The door to the party was ajar, so I entered and placed my suitcase next to it. Just as Desi claimed, none of the girls could see me. There was a hallway in front of me that opened up into a large kitchen and living room where the music was playing. Several girls were talking to each other, but they stopped and stared as I entered the room.

"Excuse me," I said. "I'm here on a noise complaint from the neighbors, and I could hear y'all from all the way down the hall. Who's in charge here?"

Several girls pointed to the sole girl wearing a white dress. "Laura," they said in unison.

Laura looked around and pointed at another girl. "Alyssa," she said.

"Laura," someone said. Some girls squeaked with muffled laughter.

"Hey, why are y'all pickin' on me?"

I approached Laura. "Ma'am, in this your party?"

"Uh, n-no. It's Alyssa's."

"Nothing illegal is going on here?"

"No, sir."

"Okay, well, you're gonna have to keep everything down. I don't want to write you a citation, but if I get another call, then everyone here is getting one. Understood?"

Laura nodded, her face tense. I smiled, placed my hands on her hips and started dancing. Laura's jaw dropped and she looked at her friends. "You got me a stripper!? Oh my God, I have to sit down for a sec." Tears began to well up in her eyes. "I have to sit down."

I stopped dancing for minute as Laura sat down and wiped her eyes. It is rare that a girl starts crying when I take off my clothes, so I was confused.

"Whose idea was this?" Laura asked.

"Mine," Desi said.

"Oh my God!" Laura said, hugging me. "I love him! Thank you so much, girl!"

I resumed dancing and Laura tried to undress me with zeal. Judging from her excitement and wide smile, I felt like an opened present on Christmas Day. She placed her hands on my abs and ran them up to my chest and gave a moan of satisfaction. Desi gave her some dollar bills, which Laura tucked into the front of my thong.

"Put some on her," I told Desi, who shoved some bills into Laura's bra. I dove in, smelling the sweet fragrance of perfume and lotion. Even Laura tasted sweet as I licked around her cleavage before biting onto the dollar bill. "Mmmm," she moaned, thrusting her hips upward against my body. Perhaps she was enjoying this a little too much for a girl who was about to get married.

After extracting a few more bills from Laura, I asked her which girl she wanted me to get next. Laura pointed to another blonde in a black one-piece dress who shared a resemblance to her. "My sister. Get her next."

I obliged by picking her up and laying her on the couch. I grabbed her stilleto heels like they were handlebars and lifted so she was in a spread eagle position, causing her one piece dress to hike up her hips and exposing her red thong in the process. I aimed the tip of my thong-encased cock at the slit of her red thong and began to rub it up and down, causing this blonde smile as she placed her hands flat against my abs. I looked up at the crowd. "Now is the time for pictures." Several girls responded by laughing and taking pictures.

Laura's sister also had the fragrance of sweet perfume and lotion on her. I grabbed her tanned legs, which felt smooth, and shifted them so I could dry hump her in a different position. More camera flashes illuminated the room. Between the intoxicating smell and the soft feel of this girl, I began getting hard. I helped her up before becoming completely hard. The bachelorette had another girl ready--it was Desi.

Desi wore tight pants, so I focused on pushing my crotch against her face. In response, she faced the camera and gave a mixed expression of widenening her eyes in mock surprise while sticking her tongue out at my cock. As the cameras flashed, I thrust my hips a few inches forward, making the bulge of my thong come into contact with her tongue. Desi yelped and everyone laughed.

Next, the bachelorette tried to line me up with another girl. However, she looked up at me with wide eyes and fled the room. Several girls encouraged me to chase her down, but I refused. Forcing interaction on such girls not only slows the rhythm of the party down, but it can draw out a bad reaction, which will destroy the festive mood. I always make it a point to leave such women alone.

The next few girls acted skittish as well, which told me that the only girls willing to participate were Laura, her sister, and Desi. At this point, Desi came up and whispered that I should just focus on Laura since it was her party. So I pulled Laura toward the couch and asked the crowd for a towel and a drink of Laura's choice. I sat on the couch, spread my legs apart, and told Laura to get on her knees. "You're going to take a shot off my abs," I told her.

"Really?!" she said, beaming with excitement. One of Laura's friend handed me a bottle of scotch, which I poured into my belly button. The liquid ran off in several directions, from the side of my abs to the top of my crotch. Laura cleaned off every drop, sucking, licking, and kissing my midsection. After a few more rounds of this, Laura climbed atop of me and spoke into my ear, "Now it's my turn to strip for you."

Laura stood up and pulled off her white dress, exposing her bra and black, lycra thong. The front was mesh and I could see her pussy through it. She turned around and began shaking her ass in front of me, gyrating ever closer to my crotch. Laura had the body of a Playboy centerfold model. Even her ass had a round, firm shape---the black, upside-down triangle of her thong went into the crack of her ass perfectly. I grabbed her hips to support her balance as she sat on my lap, her pussy rubbing against my cock with only the thin fabric of our underwear separating us. For some reason, I could only think of the irony of my situtaion: Not only was I getting a lap dance a really beautiful blonde with a hot body, but these girls were paying me for it.

"I bet there aren't many girls out there who would strip for you while you're working," Laura said.

Actually, several girls have stripped for me in the past while working. Although it doesn't happen to often, it's not uncommon. I wasn't going to tell Laura that and interupt my lap dance in which her friends were paying me for. Instead, I said, "Not many."

"So are we your wildest party?"

A lot of girls who hire me would like to think that their friends are the wildest bunch I'd ever experience. I don't know why girls want that acclaim. Perhaps it's the sneaky naughtiness factor. I call it the 'Sex in the City Syndrome'--where girls try to perform the most decadent acts without the men in their lives finding out. But the truth is that unless each and every girl lined up to take turns sucking my cock, then the accolade of "Dion's Wildest Party" will always remain out of reach.

However, I was here to entertain, so I entertained Laura by telling her that her party was "one of the wildest." My response seemed to satisfy her, and she continued rubbing against me. I wondered how wet she was.

"You had better stop soon," I said. "You're making me horny."

Laura turned around and straddled atop of me. "Good. Then maybe you'll come out with us tonight."

"Laura, let the dancer strip," her sister called out.

"Yeah, I paid him to strip---not you," Desi said, accompanied by laughter.

"Okay, fine," Laura said, standing up. She jumped onto the couch and spread her legs. "All right, bitches. Put some money on me."

Desi stepped forward and tucked some bills into Laura's bra, and then handed Laura a twenty. "After you're done getting these--" Laura said, pointing to her bra--"you can get this." She waved the twenty in front of me and reached down toward her mesh thong, and tucked the bill right above her clit.

I started with the money in her bra. My tongue caressed her cleavage. She not only smelled sweet, but tasted sweet as well. Perhaps it was her lotion. I felt her taking in deeper breaths as she pulled me toward her. After all the money was gone from her bra, I moved down to where the twenty was. Laura's mesh thong was as transparent as pantyhose---I could see her clean-shaven pussy beneath it, and the twenty-dollar bill was sticking out from the left side of the thong just above. I placed my tongue against the outline of her clit and circled a few times before moving to the left toward the bill. I licked around the bill for a few seconds before extracting it, causing Laura to let out a gasp of breath.

I sat up with the twenty dollar bill, and the girls in the background cheered. At this point I announced it was time for pictures, which meant that I was finished. While taking pictures, Laura invited me to go out to the club with her. "I'll dance with you all night," she said, rubbing my abs.

"That sounds tempting."

"I just love male strippers," Laura continued. "I had one my freshman year of college and I invited him back to my place and made out with him.

A blonde girl standing next to Laura made eye contact with me and raised an eyebrow. "Ooookay," she said. "Too much information there, Laura."

I agreed as well. For some reason, the whole concept of going out with her didn't seem so appealing anymore after hearing that.

Desi approached and asked if I wanted to go to the club as well. I declined, making up a lame excuse about having errands in the morning. In truth, I wanted to avoid any drama that would unfold when Laura got drunk enough to seduce me. Desi hugged me and told me that I did an amazing job and apologized about most of the girls running away. "If Laura acted like the others, then I wouldn't have been able to hire you. The other girls don't like to have fun as much."

The idea of Desi inferring that the other shy girls were boring presented a paradox. As a male stripper working a party, I enjoy daring and eager girls, such as Desi and Laura, who test boundaries and see how naught they can get. These girls give life to my parties. I loathe having a room full of goody-two shoes, who retreat and refuse to participate, because these girls cause the atmosphere of the parties to shrivel up and die. On the other hand, I dislike girls like Laura and Desi outside the partying realm; these girls lie and cheat and can never be trusted as marriage material. For dating, I find the boring, shy girls more appealing and trustworthy. It's a strange phenomenon, but one I experience every time I work.

On the other hand, the person who deserved the most pity this night was Laura's future husband. If only he knew what kind of trouble he was signing up for, he probably would have second thoughts. Maybe that was his intention though. Laura was very attractive and perhaps he felt that marriage was the only way he could have sex with a beautiful woman such as her on a regular basis. I guess he is one of the guys who does not differentiate between the dating and the partying paradox of women.

Oh well... Laura is not my problem.