Working as a Male Stripper

While part of this story is true, the bulk of it is fantasy. Names have been changed

------------------------------

In my younger days I worked as a balloon telegram stripper to help ends meet. A tall, skinny boy of twenty-three, my body hadn't started filling out yet. My 'shtick' was to dress in a tuxedo with tied bowtie, and strip down to a G-string with a mini tuxedo on the front. Being naked in front of others didn't bother me, but full-frontal male nudity was illegal in town, so we went with the G-string to comply with the law.

The lady who owned the telegram business initially hired me for singing telegrams, but then got an offer for a male stripper. I'd never done anything like this, so the boss suggested I come over to her house one evening and try out the new 'service' for her and her friends. The boss was an older woman, thrice divorced, in her late forties. She was still incredibly attractive, slender, and athletic. Her short blonde hair was cute and framed her face well. She typically wore loose fitting shirts but tight jeans showing her shapely ass off to great effect.

When I arrived at the house, my boss opened the door. I was already dressed in my tuxedo. She saw me and exclaimed, "Ooh, John, nice look. The formal really works. Come in, have a drink or two before we get started to relax."

I stepped into her living room filled with a half-dozen ladies ranging from early twenties to somewhere in their fifties. My boss introduced me to all of them, but other than her daughter, a year younger than me, I couldn't tell you any of their names. Lindsey, the daughter, who was also a partner in the telegram business, was spunky, with her blonde hair styled into spikes on top and close cropped on the sides. Like her mother, she was athletic, filling out her tight t-shirt with soft, round c-cup breasts.

My boss offered me a glass of wine and I sat there with a room full of women talking about the day's events, news, weather, what new items some store had on display in their shop window—nothing memorable. As I sipped my wine, I thought they might want to talk about my stripping, why I was doing it, or other questions about me, but it I was just another generic person in the room.

Faster than I expected, my glass was empty, and Lindsey quickly refilled it. I'm not much of a drinker. I couldn't tell you when I'd last had two glasses of wine in a night, but it had been a while. It was helping me relax, thought. When I arrived, I was nervous as a cornered cat, but after the innocuous conversation and two glasses of wine, I felt as if this was just a normal evening with friends—albeit friends I really didn't know.

After the second glass, my boss asked me if I wanted another. But one of the ladies chimed in, "Don't get him too drunk, or it might affect the show."

Oh, yeah, the show. I was here to put on a show.

The boss agreed and ushered me, out of the living room into a guest bedroom. "Ok, are you ready to do this?"

"Yes," I relied starting to get nervous again.

"Do you have the music? Are you wearing the G-string?"

"Check and check."

"Ok, when you go out, pick a woman to make her the focus of the show. It doesn't matter whom—well, as long as it's not me, but we want to see how your show looks in terms of a target."

"Got it. Why not you?"

"I want to watch as a bystander, see what others might feel like watching the show. These strips are always going to be public. The point is, you're there to embarrass the person getting the telegram, so there will always be people watching. I want to see what the show looks like from that perspective."

"Ah, ok. I'm ready."

"Give me five or so minutes, then come out." She left and the butterflies appeared in my stomach full force.

When I strode into the room, I chose the woman on the far side. She was sitting in a dining room chair in the corner beside the sofa. Part of me wanted to perform for the daughter, but she was sitting on the sofa and I didn't think I could do enough to embarrass her without climbing on the sofa. There was another woman and my boss on the sofa as well, so too many people to really focus on one. The woman in the chair was in her thirties, with longer dark hair. The bangs hung over her forehead giving her a shy appearance. I felt she was likely to blush more than I would.

I set the boom box on the floor in the area between the living room and dining room, then strode over the dark-haired girl in the corner. "Hello, I have a treat for you today." As if on cue, the other women cheered and the poor girl in the chair glowed a bright red. Her dark brown eyes looked up at me, huge and extremely dilated. I reached out with both hands. She slowly, reluctantly put her fingers lightly on mine. With a gentle tug, I got to a standing position in front of her chair. "Ok, now stay here. I'll be right back."

Back at the boombox, I pushed the button to start the tape, the quintessential stripper's music began. I had practiced this at home to work out just how quickly I needed to undo everything in time with the music. I reached out to my subject for her hands again. This time guiding them to my shoulders just underneath my jacket to help me slide it off. Her hands pushed the jacket back off my shoulders, as I dropped my arms, letting the jacket fall. Snagging the collar of the jacket with one hand, I whirled it around and handed it to my target.

I stepped over to her and started to undo the buttons on my vest. She was holding the jacket in front of her, waist high, which allowed me to lightly glide the backs of my hands against her breasts as they slid down my vest. Her eyes were following my fingers, but she didn't step away. Once the vest was unbuttoned, I slid it off and slipped in around behind her to put the arm holes over her shoulders. Holding on to the front of the vest, I pulled her closer to me, pressing my chest to hers. She instinctively looked up as my lips headed toward hers. Just before our lips met, I pulled away, put my hands on her shoulders and guided her back to the chair.

Next off was the bowtie. It was a tied tie, rather than a clip on, so I could leave the tails of the tie hanging about my neck as I started to undo my shirt buttons. As my fingers unbuttoned my shirt, I slid onto the woman's lap straddling her legs (my coat draped over her legs). I let my breathing be all in my chest, allowing it to heave up and down as my shirt opened for her.

The other women were cheering so loudly, it was hard to hear the music. I kept going in what I thought was the right pace, hoping I wouldn't finish much before the music did.

When my shirt was undone, I reached down to take her hands again and put them on my chest. Still exaggerating my breathing, I could tell her breath was matching mine. Her fingers softly landed on my chest as I gently moved her wrists with my fingers, up toward my shoulders, then down to my sternum, then back up to my neck. Her eyes followed her fingers until they got to my neck, in which they continued to rise to meet mine.

The crowd roared, "Kiss him!" I could tell she wanted to, and I moved slightly closer to her to suggest we might, then slid off her legs to stand again.

My hands went to my trousers' zipper as I stepped back, pulling off one shoe, then the next. My shirt, open at the front, was blocking the view of the other ladies in the room. This was a private show for my subject. I undid my tuxedo trousers and slid both hands into the front of trousers. Opening my hands, I showed her my abdomen and the thin trail of hair from my belly button to my crotch. My pubic hair was really long, so strands of it were peering out above the zipper as well.

I turned around showing my open trousers to the women in the room, while wiggling my ass at my target. The cheers erupted again. Moving my hands to my waist, I slid the trousers over my ass, then down to the floor. The tail of my shirt hung below my ass, so my target couldn't see my ass, but the women in room caught their first glimpse of my tuxedo G-string. Rocking my hips forward I looked down, pulled on the strands of public hair, and smiled at the ladies. More cheers.

Really enjoying the attention, I'd forgotten all about being nervous. It was all about the show. But I was also enjoying the attention. My cock, when relaxed is normally small and reclusive, was beginning to throb. I didn't have an erection yet but was definitely thinking about it.

Grabbing the tails of my shirt, I wiggled my butt at my target as I lifted the shirt tails to show my bum, but not high enough to show the string of my G-string. Then, I slid the shirt off my shoulders and pulled it around my waist. Turning around as I slid the shirt around the other direction, I kept my target from viewing the G-String.

Staring at the woman in front of me, her eyes glued to the shirt in front of my hips, I danced in time with the music. As the music moved to the climax, I removed shirt in a flourish still wiggling my hips. The woman's eyes got huge again and she smiled.

As the music ended, the boss's daughter yelled, "Does this tie untie too?" The woman looked over, smiled, blushed, then back at the tiny bowtie on my G-string. I took my fingers and pulled on the ends of the bowtie. It was sewed on, so no risk of coming apart, but the motion, along with the gyrating hips, accentuated the motion of my cock underneath.

I saw the woman gulp. Bending over, I reached down to grab the hands politely folded in her lap, lifted them, and placed her fingers lightly on the front of my hips. She could have, in one fluid motion, pulled on the strings and removed my G-string, but her fingers were cold, and trembling. As she continued to stare at the mini tuxedo, I took the tie hanging around my neck, slipped it around the back of her neck and slowly tugged her head forward. Hypnotized, her face moved toward my G-string, her fingers trembled even more, twitching as if to decide whether she should pull the string down or not. Then I shifted the pressure of the tie to lift her head as I bent over. She looked up as I bent down to kiss her.

My eyes closed as our lips met. Shifting my head to the side to deepen the kiss, I felt her hands slide along the line of my hips until they settled on my G-string. My cock throbbed, and her fingers responded by cupping my package, as our tongues moved out to explore each other. I felt a finger and thumb slide under the edge of my G-string and wrap around the base of my cock and balls.

Moments later, I moved away from the kiss, and her hands dropped back down to her lap. Her face was flush, but not from embarrassment. A soft smile graced her lips.

I stepped back to cheers and applause from the crowd. Turning around, I did small bows to the rest of the audience. My boss stood up, clapping, "That was incredible. Why don't you put your clothes back on and we'll get you another glass of wine?"

The crowd light-heartedly booed the suggestion of clothes.

Scooping up my clothes, I retired to the guest room and go dressed, all but my jacket and vest. I didn't bother tying the bowtie either, as I was looking forward to relaxing.

When I returned, the party had moved to the dining room. There were several opened bottles of wine on the table with glasses all around. The ladies saw me return and gave me another round of applause. The head of the table was reserved for me, with my boss on the other end. My target was seated to my left, and the boss's daughter to my right.

Once seated, my boss asked the woman who was the subject of my strip, "How was it?"

The woman blushed and looked down at the table, smiling.

Before she could answer, another woman asked, "How was the kiss?" But before the poor woman could answer, the daughter asked, "I want to know, how was his cock?"

"Lindsey," her mother chided.

"What? During their kiss she put her hands on his G-string. I just wanted to know what it felt like?"

The room erupted in laughter, allowing the woman to avoid the question.

As the night continued, the conversation around the dinner table discussed my performance, and the various aspect they liked. There were no negative comments expect my boss suggesting that allowing my targets to touch my hips when the strip was done was perhaps a bit too risky. "If a woman, like my daughter, wanted to pull down, you'd be naked, and we could be looking at a lawsuit. At a minimum, you would get a ticket for indecent exposure."

"She's right", Lindsey replied, "I wouldn't have hesitated."

I'd had just enough wine to argue the point, "I don't know. It's not so easy getting the string over my hips. I think I'm safe."

"John, you don't know the determination of a horny woman," the daughter replied.

"I think my hands would be fast enough to prevent any disrobing."

"I bet my hands are faster."

"Ha!" I exclaimed as I stood up drunkenly defiant and started to unbutton my shirt. The ladies continued to laugh, but the attention of the room was definitely back on me. I didn't spend the same amount of time taking my clothes off the second time. Once the shirt was undone, it was draped over the back of my chair. I slid back the chair and undid my trousers' zipper.

Stepping to the side of my chair, I laid my trousers over the arm of the chair. Four of five glasses of wine in, I was feeling lightheaded and not in control of my actions. That switch which most people have to say this isn't a good idea, was completely disconnected. Readjusting the strings to my G-string, I realized my cock was loving the attention. While I wasn't fully erect, I was straining against the G-string. Not only was the hair pocking out over the top, but there was a gap on either side of the G-string cup.

"Ok," I said with an egotistical swagger, "how do we want to do this? Like in the performance?"

Lindsey moved her chair around, so she was facing me directly. "Yes, my hands are in my lap and I'm seated. Proceed."

The boss started to speak, but her daughter waved for silence as she glared at the interruption. The room was quiet. I pulled the tie off from around my neck and started to hum the tune. It wasn't the right part of the music for this particular maneuver, but it got my hips swaying. I reached down and lightly guided her hands to my hips. Unlike the woman before, her fingers were warm. I slid the tie around the back of her neck and pull her head forward. About the time I started to pull up on her neck to give her a kiss, I felt her fingers curl around the string and pull my G-string down.

I was too slow. My cock popped out and slid up along the daughter's face. I was looking down watching her smile as she won the wager. I dropped the tie and moved my hands to my hips, but way too late to do anything but look like I was trying to accentuate my throbbing cock.

The daughter purred, "Mmmm, this is nice." Then turned and gave the tip of my cock a kiss. For a moment I thought she was going to open her lips and suck me inside, but no. It was just a kiss. The crowd cheered. The daughter turned to them, wrapping her finger and thumb around the base of my cock and wiggling it back and forth, "To the victor, goes the spoils."

The dark-haired woman blurted out, "But you missed the best part, the kiss."

The crowd cheered and laughed in agreement, but the daughter retorted. "Oh, I got my kiss, and another one to boot." She turned back to my now fully erect cock and slid the head into her mouth. More cheering. I think if I hadn't had a few glasses of wine, I would have cum right there, but fortunately, I held the urge at bay.

The boss chimed in, "Ok, enough, Lindsey. This isn't a sex show."

Having had her fun, the daughter agreed, released my cock and turn back to the table.

I stood at the end of the table fully erect, the G-string around my ankles. Part of me was contemplating masturbating. I wanted to cum, but, as I said about that switch, in this case, it engaged and kept me from going the next step.

The boss turned to the table, "Well, I think we've had our show. Shall we call it an evening? It is a weeknight." In unison, the ladies agreed and started getting up from the table. "Oh no," my boss turned to me, "You've had too much to drink. No driving for you, tonight."

The dark-haired woman offered, "I can take him home."

There was something in her eye that said that wasn't a good idea. Maybe my boss wasn't sure I'd get home, or at least, not to my home. "No, I have a spare room he can sleep in."

"Sure," chimed in one of the other ladies, "We see how this goes."

The boss winked and smiled, "I am the owner of the company. He is my employee."

"Mine too," the daughter exclaimed.

"You've had your fun." Her mother snapped.

As the woman moved toward the doorway, I stood there naked. After some hesitation, one woman stepped forward and hugged me. "It was a really good show, thank you." She kissed me on the cheek, and I could feel her hips pressing again my hard cock.

The next woman stepped up to do the same, taking delight in pressing up against my erection. My cock continued to throb with all the attention.

The third woman was the tallest of the bunch. As she stepped forward for a hug, she put her hand on my cock and pushed it down so the head would slide in between her legs. As we hugged, she gyrated her hips. I could feel the heat emanating from between her legs. I swear, if she'd been naked, we would have started fucking right there.

Next was the dark-haired woman. She paused for a moment to see if the daughter would go next, leaving her for last, but the daughter motioned the dark-haired woman forward. She stepped up to hug me, but rather than move my face to the side, I looked into her eyes. She smiled and we kissed. Our lips parted and our tongues explored. One of her arms dropped from my waist to my ass. She squeezed. I continued the kiss, while moving my hand back to grab her wrist. Initially, she thought I was telling her
"no" to grabbing my ass. Instead, I moved her hand around front allowing her to wrap her fingers around my cock. The kiss exploded with passion and she gently, but firmly, stroked my cock.

The other ladies stood the open door watching.

When the kiss did finally end, we looked into each other's eyes. She said, "Thank you for a great show."

I reached down to squeeze her hand around my cock, took in a deep breath, and sighed, "Thank you for being such a great participant."

"Ok, ok, ok. The show really is over." My boss put a hand on the dark-haired woman's shoulder and separated us. "Thank you, ladies for coming. I think this is going to be a nice addition to our services." The ladies heartily agreed.

The daughter tried to step in to get her hug, but the boss thwarted her. "Oh, I think you got yours already."

Pouting, the daughter stepped back.

The pack of ladies bid more farewells and stepped out the door. My boss, standing by the door, looks over at me, "John, perhaps you should step back just a bit so you're not giving our neighbors free show."

"Oh," and I stepped back into the dining room.

The four ladies departed, and the mother turned to the daughter. "Aren't you going home, too?"

"I've had a few glasses of wine, too, mother. I think I'd better stay here for the night." She said it innocently enough, but the meaning was clear. She wasn't done for the night.

The mother glared at her daughter, but then said, "Ok, but take the downstairs room, to remove any temptation of slipping into the wrong room during the night."

"Mother! I would never."

"I saw what you would never earlier this evening. Now, off you with. Downstairs."

As the mother shooed the daughter through to the kitchen and down the stairs, I gathered up my clothing.

When the mother returned, she said, "You'll be it the guess bedroom. There is a private toilet and sink. There's even a new toothbrush if you want. I recommend locking the door."