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.

Update Notice

The next story will be posted soon. It's called "The Good Girl - Bad Girl Paradox", and it's about a show I did at the beginning of October. I finished writing it recently, but it needs editing.

To answer many questions I have received over the last week in e-mails, I'll post some of the answers here:

- I'm still writing about the very beginning of my career. One of my next projects will be part 3.

- More pics will come. I have taken a few. However, I will blur or black out the girls' faces. I don't want someone getting fired or having relationship problems because of me posting someone's pic on the internet.

- Some of you guys want me to take a more erotic approach to my writing---like a Penthouse forum story. I have a few stories like that, so hang in there. In the meantime, check out the next story.

- There's also quite the demand for stories about bachelorettes cheating. Regarding these situations, I'm not fond of sleeping with a girl who has a boyfriend or who is getting married. Of course, that is not to say that it has never happened. For those events in my past, I'll get around to writing about them, though don't expect a lot of them. In the meantime, check out the bachelorette in my next upcoming story.

- For the rest of the questions, the next batch of answers for the male stripper Q & A will be posted after "The Good Girl - Bad Girl Paradox" is up.

Till then, feel free to e-mail me any comments or questions here: sinistralmetal@yahoo.com

Male Stripper Questions - Part 25

It's about that time again. Here is another batch of questions I received both from the comments section and e-mails:

1. Could you break down into percentages the amount of parties that a. the women don't touch your junk b. they just have a quick fondle/grope and c. they actually suck or jerk you off?

Keep in mind that these are just rough estimates that I pulled out of my ass. I didn't go through each and every party and break down the numbers. These numbers are also likely to change depending on when you ask me as well.

a. Women who don't touch - 25%
b. Women who fondle/grope - 70%
c. Women who jerk me off or give me a blowjob - 5%

2. Do the women you strip for ever try to play with your ass? (i don't just mean groping cheeks, I mean wanting to look at or play with your butthole and stuff like that)

A few girls have licked or kissed my ass cheeks, and a few girls have placed dollar bills in my butt crack and traced their hands inside of it, but I never had a girl "play with my butthole." I don't think most girls are into the whole ass-play or butthole thing. That's a field more suited for gay guys.

3. Have you ever had any embarrassing accidents/mishaps when performing? (like an accidental popout, getting an accidental boner, or accidentally jizzing?)

I have had accidental pop-outs and boners here and there. Boners happen when I am relaxed and the girls are turning me on. I never accidentally jizz. It takes a lot of effort for me to cum in front of a group of girls for some reason.

4. You're a good writer, but could you try writing some of your experiences in a more descriptive/erotic way (like some of the better stripping/cfnm* stories on literotica)? It'd be great for guys like myself who'd love to know what it's like stripping for groups of women but who are too shy or can't dance or are too ugly/skinny/fat/short to ever be able to try it for themselves. (*CFNM means "clothed female nude male")

Why thank you. Actually, I had a few erotic stripping stories that I wanted to send to Penthouse. I'll be sure to post some of them on here. I have only posted 50% of the interesting bits of my job, and new stuff is happening to me all the time. Keep checking back for updates.

5. How often women actually think you are a cop? Don't they know what it means when a good looking cop shows up at a bachelorette party?

Most of the time, women believe that I'm a cop. More so recently than when I first started. I believe that I had gotten used to the role of the police officer responding to the "noise complaint." When I first began the cop routine, I lacked the confidence and command presence that actual cops had because of nervousness. But I have done this routine so many times now that I sometimes feel like I am a cop showing up to quell the noise violation.

However, some women will know that I'm a male stripper for a variety of reasons. Women with good knowledge of law enforcement tend to see through my act. Other women just know that the formula of police officer and bachelorette party equals a male stripper. Most of the time, it's the bachelorette's friends that give away the ruse by blurting out that a stripper is coming, or they'll giggle and laugh in the background while I perform the cop routine.

**********************

If you have any questions, feel free to e-mail them to me here: sinistralmetal@yahoo.com

Tropical Storm Blackout: Part 2

Continued from this story: Tropical Storm Blackout: Part 1

Party #3

Sept. 3rd, Saturday. 1 male dancer. Arrival time: 8:30 pm. (Address and phone numbers not included. Hotel room #606. Contact Mindy. 12-15 girls. Bachelorette. Collect $250 cash.


I called Mindy and told her that I would be late. Very late.

"No worries," she said. "Just get here when ya can. We're watching the L.S.U. game and won't be doing anything till it's done."

That was a relief. I spent the next three hours driving through torrential rain. I was running so late that I could not afford any time to stop for food or a bathroom break As the time approached 11 o'clock, Mindy called me worried. The football game was over and the other girls were wanting to go out to the bar. She was having trouble keeping them occupied.

"I'm almost there," I assured her.

"Okay, I'll try to dish out two more party games to buy some time."

I thanked her. A lot of customers would have been upset with me by now. I was wondering if I would even make it on time and that presented a problem if I didn't. If the girls went out to the bar, then I would probably have to go with them, wait for them to finish, or just cut the party as a loss---which would not only make my agent furious, but it would cause me to lose money, time, and gasoline.

At 11:20, Mindy called me again. "Where are you? The girls are trying to go to the bar now."

I had just entered the parking garage of the hotel. "I'm here," I said. Now the anxiety about arriving in time was over, and a new one took its place: I had to piss. Bad. The only thing on my mind was how I was going to make it through the performance without pissing on myself or someone else, and I sure wasn't going to ask to use the bathroom before starting. I cannot explain why I don't do that, but I find it not only unprofessional, but it ruins any routine.

I exited the parking garage on the eastern side of the building and hurried along on a balcony walkway that gave a view of the beach on the south side, and the highway and shops on the north side. The police shirt and gun belt was under my arm, and I felt like a creep skulking about. I rounded a corner and almost collided with two girls. Both were short, tanned, petite, and had brown hair. However, the main difference was one girl had straight hair and the other had curly.

"Dion?" the girl with curly hair asked. I nodded. She extended her hand. "I'm Mindy, and this is my sister, Hannah. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too. I'm so sorry again for being late," I told her, shaking both girls' hands.

"No worries! I am so happy you made it. Here is two-fifty," Mindy said with a warm smile, handing me the cash. "Can you give me two minutes to get the bachelorette ready?"

"Sure, take your time," I said, relieved. "I have to put on my uniform anyway."

"How should we do this?" Hannah said, the sister with straight hair. "This is our first time having a male stripper."

I told them that I would pretend to be an officer responding to a noise complaint and to stuff the bachelorette with dollar bills. Yes, I know---typical routine, but it works most of the time. I even wonder how women fall for it. There is nothing coincidental about a cop showing up at the door during a bachelorette party.

The girls loved my idea, of course. "Okay, just give us two minutes," Mindy said. "Then knock on the door. It's room 606."

The first thing I did when the girls left was search for the stairwell. Unlike the open balcony, it was enclosed by thick concrete walls. I looked up and down the stairwell and listened. No one was in the stairwell except me. I unbuttoned my pants and took a nice long piss into a corner. I hated doing such things because I felt like a homeless man, but I couldn't hold it anymore. If the girls could only see me now... I wondered if they would still hire me.

Once I finished, I donned on my police uniform and headed toward room 606. First I rang the doorbell. No answer. I knocked. No answer. I heard some girls talking and loud music inside. I knocked again. The sound of high heels clacking against the floor became louder and louder. The door flung open and a blonde girl with a tiara leaned on it. "Oooh, a police man. Is something wrong officer?"

"Yes ma'am," I said. "I received a noise complaint regarding this location. Are you in charge here?"

The blonde looked me up and down. "Aren't you sexy?"

I ignored her comment and made a show that the strong winds from the storm were bothering me. "Ma'am, may I come in and ask a few questions?"

"Sure," the blonde said, stepping aside and motioning me inside. "Are you gonna get naked?"

"Let's remain professional, ma'am," I said. About a dozen girls gathered in the living room. They all stared at me in silence, some smiling. The music droned quietly in the background. I walked behind the blonde and mouthed the words to the rest of the girls, "Is this her?"

Several girls nodded. I gestured toward a chair the chair and placed my hand on the blonde's should. "Could you sit down first?"

"I want you to handcuff me first, officer."

Damn, I thought I would be 3 for 3 tonight. This girl knew I wasn't a cop. She had to know. Still, I continued the cop routine. "Ma'am, please have a seat."

"Oooh, what are you gonna do to me?" she asked, sitting down.

"This." I straddled atop of her and thrust my crotch toward her face.

The blonde's mouth opened in surprise and she quickly covered it with her hands. The music pounded with each beat now; someone had the consideration to turn it up. Hands reached out from several direction to shove dollar bills into the blonde's bra and up her dress. The hands withdrew as quickly as they came, one hand slapping me on the ass during its retreat.

The blonde bachelorette uncovered her face. "Oh my God. I can't believe you bitches hired a stripper for me."

This time I was surprised. "You thought I was a cop the whole time?" Maybe I was 3 for 3.

I pulled off my police shirt first. Then, I asked the blonde to pull down and take off my pants. She took her time, rubbed her hands up and down my legs. After she pulled the last pant leg off, I squatted down and buried my face her breasts to extract the dollar bills. Close up, this girl had a smell of alcohol mixed with perfume. She looked at me with glassy eyes. "So am I allowed to make out with you?"

Her question left me speechless. No one had asked me such a request before and I didn't know how to answer her. Instead, I just continued to fish out dollar bills. After I finished with her, I stood up and asked who was next.

The bachelorette pulled a random girl from the crowd, whom I placed onto the couch. The only way I can describe this girl is that she was the typical "fake'n'bake" girl at a dance club: very tanned with heavy caked makeup. She wore a tight, black one-piece dress. The other girls stuffed money into her bra and I dove in headfirst to get it out. Next, I grabbed her ankles and spread apart her legs so that they formed a V-shape revealing her purple underwear with a camel toe imprint. With the front part of my thong, I rubbed against her camel toe, which caused the girl to squeal in surprise. Everyone laughed and took pictures, and the girl laughed and made funny faces as she posed for the cameras, such as opening her eyes wide and looking up and away while pursing her lips. I pretended to hump her a few more moments. As I helped her off the couch, the bachelorette had another girl ready for me.

The cycle continued. I introduced body shots next, and a few girls drank alcohol from my abs. Several girls, including Mindy, stood in the background and avoided participating. Mindy's sister, Hannah, behaved a whole lot differently.

"I want a picture with him cowgirl style," Hannah said.

I didn't know exactly what she wanted.

"Here, get down on the couch." Hannah pushed me onto the couch and staggered on top of me. Her black underwear beneath her purple dress grazed against my silver thong. She started bouncing like she was riding a bucking horse, except the bounces turned to pelvic thrusts. I admit, I was getting turned on. "Okay, take a few pictures like this, Mindy," Hannah called out.

"Whoa there," the bachelorette said. "This is my party and you're having all the fun. Move over, bitch." The bachelorette wedged herself between me and Hannah, so now I had two drunk girls sitting on me. Sometimes I can't believe that I get paid to do this.

After a few more rounds of body shots, dry-humping, and the occasional tea bagging, I was ready to wind down the party and leave. Therefore, I announced that it was time for group pictures. Like usual, I posed with the bachelorette to my left side. Hannah said that she wanted to be in the picture with me and rushed over to my right side. Mindy was the photographer. Hannah and the bachelorette wanted a picture that gave the illusion that they were grabbing my crotch, so they hovered their hands a few inches in front of me. The camera flashed several times. "Okay, just a few more," Mindy said. Hannah swatted at the bachelorette's hand, deliberately causing it to collide with my cock. She yelped and several girls laughed.

"You look really big," Hannah said. "Did you stuff your thong?"

I get this question at times. At first, I used to take women seriously when they asked me this and give a serious answer. But now, I learned to have a little fun with my answers. "Why don't you touch it and find out?"

Hannah decided to take my test. She gingerly reached her hand out and poked my cock. Unsatisfied, she grabbed and fondled. "Oh my God, it is real."

The whole party started laughing. Mindy chided Hannah, telling her to stop molesting me. The next thing Hannah did went beyond what I expected. I felt a pair of hands grab onto the straps of my thong, and I looked down in time to see her yank my thong down. Hannah let go to cup her mouth as I pulled my thong back up.

"Oh my God, Hannah---Stop that," Mindy said.

"So, how big are you when hard?" Hannah asked, her blue eyes full of lust.

"Hannah, stop molesting the stripper," Mindy said, then she turned to me. "I'm so sorry, I have never seen her like this."

"I think your sister is gonna rape me," I told her.

"Yeah, she must really like you."

"Is that so?" I asked. I draped an arm around Hannah and pulled her close. "So y'all think we'd make a good couple?"

Several girls agreed and said we would. Hannah leaned her head into me and placed her hand on my abs. "We would make beautiful male stripper babies," she said, drawing laughter from the crowd.

"Maybe we can arrange that sometime," I joked. In response, Hannah ran her hands down from my abs and began to massage my cock.

One girl announced that it was time to go out to the club. Hannah looked up at me. "Why don't you come along?" She squeezed me gently to emphasize her question.

I considered her offer.

However, fatigue from the previous two shows and several hours of driving had drained my energy, along with the fact that I hadn't eaten anything since leaving home at 3 p.m. All I wanted to do was go home, eat dinner, and relax. Besides, I had errands to run the next morning.

In response to my hesitation, Hannah dropped down to her knees, like she was a puppy begging for attention, and opened her mouth in front of the bulge of my thong. She stuck out her tongue and caressed the fabric covering the head of my cock with it. My breathing quickened. She stopped to look up at me and smile before resuming.

"Hannah, stop that," Mindy said, causing Hannah to halt what she was doing. "What has gotten into you? Oh my God, I'm so sorry. She must really want you. She never acts like this."

"It's okay," I said, laughing. Like I would be the one to complain.

Hannah stood up and grabbed my hands. "So are you going out with us?"

Despite how worn out I was, her offer tempted me to my core. Her face was so beautiful and I could only imagine how nice her petite body would feel against me in bed.

Experience has taught me the outcome though... I would go to the club with Hannah and get to know her better, meaning we would dance, make out, and grope. If she didn't become too drunk or too sick from all of the binge drinking, we would return to the condo after last call. Since all of the girls were holed up in the same condo, we would have to sneak off somewhere else (nowhere outside due to the storm) to have sex. I would either have to leave immediately afterwards, so as not to disturb the other girls staying there or stay and get two or three hours of sleep at the most. Dawn would soon break and leave me with a miserable drive back home along with errands to run.

"Sorry, I really do have to get going," I said, cringing on the inside. "I have a lot of things to do tomorrow..."

Hannah looked disappointed. I got dressed and thanked everyone for having me. Next, I went to Mindy and apologized again for being so late. She told me not to worry about it because the bachelorette was so surprised and happy. Hannah nestled up to me and begged me again to go out.

"You probably should get going," Mindy said, smiling. "My sister is acting crazy tonight for some reason.

With great reluctance, I managed to pry myself away from Hannah and leave the party. The drive home in the tropical storm was slow and uneventful. I arrived home at 2 a.m. After being on the road or at a party for the last eleven hours, I brought in over six hundred dollars. Not bad.

Just as I was ready to go to bed, I picked up my phone to set the alarm. My phone was one of those touch-screen phones, and sometimes they do unintentional things such as open unwanted programs, or worst: call someone. My phone was calling Angela(the girl who hired me for the first party tonight). I disconnected as soon as I could, but Angela called me back.

"Hey, did you need something?" she asked.

I apologized and explained to her how my phone randomly calls people sometimes because it's a touch screen. I don't know if she believed me, but she wasn't mad. She thanked me for coming out to strip at her party, and I thanked her for having me, and that was that... Or so I thought.

At 2:59 a.m., I received this message:
"We had a great time, you were hot! Wanna come over?"

Followed by this message at 3:00 a.m.:
"Omg ...sorry they stole my phone! Nevermind that have a good night."

I didn't respond. I just went to bed--to be awoken by my phone ringing. It was Angela. I ignored it and went back to sleep. The phone rang again, waking me up. It was Angela, yet again. I turned off the ringer.

The next morning, I checked my phone. Nothing more from Angela, but Mindy sent me a text message. Here was how the exchange went:

Mindy: "Thank you! The girls loved you! You were the highlight of our night."

Me: "Did everything go well afterward? Let me know if you need me again."

Mindy: "Lol. everything went great. We went out for a little while then everyone passed out. I will definitely let you know if we ever need you again!"

Me: "Glad to hear that. It's best to bring a leash for Hannah next time lol"

Mindy: "Haha she's not usually like that! She was wilder than normal for sure. You should feel lucky. Doesnt do that just for anyone lol"


I haven't heard back from Mindy or Angela since then, but I have a feeling that I may strip for Mindy and Hannah again in the future. We'll see.

***post-script note: One of the girls used my phone to take a picture of me with Hannah. I'll post it on this story as soon as I find a way to transfer the image from my phone to the computer.***

September 17 Party

A man hired me last night to strip for his wife's 40th birthday. "I just want to surprise and embarrass my wife," he said.

The party took place in a rural subdivision in Alabama, and the house had a very nice pool with underwater lights of various colors. I saw a table with a fountain that spewed chocolate lined with strawberries, rice crispy treats, and pretzels. It was a mixed crowd of men and women in their thirties and forties, and they were all there to watch an Alabama Crimson Tide game. The husband met me outside, paid me, and lead me into the house. As soon as I entered, everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at me. It was complete silence.

I must admit, I felt rather awkward. I ignored everyone and followed the husband through the house toward the backyard where the pool was. "She's right there," he said. "Go get her."

And I did. It was a simple dance. Another older guy handed her a few dollar bills. A woman stood nearby video taping me. The husband was taking pictures. After a few minutes of stripping and dancing, the wife pointed out a few more ladies for me. I danced with them for about five minutes at the most. Then, I announced pictures. Several women rushed towards me, eager to pose. One girl gave her camera to her husband and said, "Hold the camera vertical. I want his package in the picture."

Her husband laughed and took the picture. He handed the camera back to her and said, "There honey, I got you and him together, along with his package."

After a few more pictures with the other women, I was finished. Fifteen minutes of work and I earned my money. Easy money, I must say.

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Regarding the rest of the Tropical Storm Blackout story, I'm almost done writing it. The third party was the most exciting, therefore taking the most time to write. It should be up soon though.