It had seemed like a great idea at the time. Why hit the bars,
blowing money in each one until he found a girl who was in the mood,
when there was one place sure to be stocked with horny women? If
he had known what he would experience...
He got to the male strippers club shortly before closing time, set
his two-door in the lot not far from the front door, and got out to
lean against the car and wait. He wore his best silk shirt and a
pair of skin-tight leather slacks. A faintly menacing smile played
across his lips as he waited.
Sure enough, the doors opened and a stream of women came out,
talking, laughing, giggling, in twos and threes and larger groups.
Some passed by him without a glance, others stopped briefly admiring
his car, or tossed a lewd comment as they went by. "New in town,
sailor?" "Is that sausage for display or for sale?" That last
comment hit home -- most of the women coming out of the club were
well-built, and the tightness of his crotch was starting to hurt.
Just as he was about to give up the idea, three women stopped to
talk. "Hey, guy," said a strawberry blonde in a blousy sweater,
"waiting for somebody to get off work, or would you be interested
in a private show?" This was what he had been waiting for! "Well,
I might be interested... where would the show be?"
The blonde went back to her friends, a tall redhead and a petite one.
The tall one was wearing a mannish suit, while the smaller one was in
a peasant blouse and skirt. He hoped they would decide quickly - he
had definite plans for all of them. Soon enough the blonde returned.
"It's too complicated to give you directions, so we decided I should
ride in the car with you and follow my friends. I'm Ginny. Shall
we go?"
He grinned, executed a formal bow, and opened the car door for her,
then got in and started following her friends. "Have you been at the
club long?" she asked. "Not very," he replied, thinking "this is
great - they really think I'm an off-duty dancer!" He turned toward
her to continue the conversation, and saw her squeezing her breasts
through her sweater. "Don't lose control, friend, I'm just keeping
the fires burning here. I hope you can ... follow the warm-up act!"
The thought reminded him of his cock, swollen and constricted in his
pants. He winked at her, suppressed a groan, and continued to follow
the other car.
They arrived at a nondescript suburban house. The shorter redhead
got out of the lead car and opened the garage, where they parked
both cars. He followed them in through the kitchen to the living
room. The tall redhead, who introduced herself as Sandy, fixed
drinks all around while her shorter counterpart, Meg, busied herself
arranging the furniture. Ginny put some music on the stereo, and
announced "All right, ladies, the warm-up show will now begin.
You know the rules!" -- and with that, grabbed him by the arm and
started close dancing with him. She was a good dancer, too; they
did a two-step followed by a salsa move that could have been on
Bandstand - or Dirty Dancing. Just as they started to move into a
vertical bop, Sandy cut in. While not as good a dancer as Ginny,
she could definitely swing her body, and with her jacket off he
could tell there was a good body there to swing. Sandy was quickly
replaced by Meg, and the height difference became a turn-on as her
breasts rubbed across his belly, too close to his crotch for comfort
and yet too far for satisfaction...
The music came to an end, and Ginny said, "We have an outfit we'd
like to see you in, if it's okay." At this point, he would have been
glad to dance naked. "If you'd follow me back here, I'll show you
what we have." She led him into a stark room with bare walls, a low
bench, a bed and a closet. On the bed was a tux cutaway jacket, tux
shirt, black slacks with a matching set of suspenders, and something
that looked like bikini briefs, but with string ties on each side of
the waist. She left while he stripped and put on the outfit. The
"briefs" were just a thin piece of silky material in an hourglass
shape, with barely enough elastic in the border to hold his cock
without it spilling out. There were also a pair of thin black
slippers, which he put on without socks. When he went back into the
living room, the lights were down except for two ceiling spots aimed
at the center of the room. He started "strutting his stuff", doing
moves he remembered seeing at the ballet and some from TV -- the
music was fast rock, and he spun and twisted as he got into the mood.
With the lights trained on him, he couldn't really see the girls just
outside his area, but they cheered him on as he removed, twirled and
tossed the tux jacket. The music turned to Pink Floyd, Yes and King
Crimson as he attempted to keep up the pace he had set. Those hours
at the health club were paying off now, and he wanted to keep his
audience happy. He undid one button of the shirt at a time, finally
removing it completely to loud applause and whistles, and swinging it
at arms length, feeling it brush against each member of his audience
until he let it go. A voice (Ginny's, he thought) said "All right,
now, let's really get to it!"
He did poses, ballet leaps, kicks and turns for a short while, but
knew these women wanted more. He started doing the twist in one
spot, pulled the zipper down, and shimmied as the pants snaked their
way down his legs to the floor. The voices in the shadows liked that
move! He stepped out of the slacks and flipped them away with one
foot. He thought as he did so that he felt something scrape at his
ankle, but still couldn't see clearly beyond his circle of light.
Now down to briefs and slippers, he bumped and ground as the music
slowed down - the Beatles' "Revolution", Clapton's original version
of "After Midnight", Rod Stewart's "Tonight's the Night". He did a
spin kick and felt someone grab the slipper off his foot. A split,
and as he got up a hand reached in and got the other slipper. Then
an arm (had to be Meg) reached in and pulled the ties, zipping his
briefs away! He stopped dancing in surprise as the lights went out
but the music continued. A voice suddenly whispered in his ear,
"Don't stop now, big boy" and he felt the unmistakable pressure of a
pair of breasts at his back and hips against his buttocks. He began
to bump and grind again, the body behind him matching his every move
and slowly moving him across the room. He could not tell where he
was going, but had decided this was Sandy from the high spot her
breasts were hitting him.
The music changed to a rumba, as he collided cock first with another
body in front of him. He automatically grabbed her by the hips, as
the body behind him did the same to him, and the sandwich worked its
way forward in the dark. His cock was trapped with the shaft between
the ass cheeks of the girl in front, the head bumping her spine with
every step. The breasts behind him were erect now, he felt the tips
of the nipples burning into his back. Suddenly the body in front
disappeared, the hands at his hips grabbed his wrists and he felt
his arms tied behind his back.
"Hey, what gi- mmmff!" He started to protest as something was pushed
into his mouth. The person at his back quickly frog-marched him to a
low bench, fastened both ankles to cuffs and untied his arms, then
put them into cuffs behind his head. Now the lights came on, glaring
into his eyes. He was in the same room he had dressed in, securely
tied down on the bench, his cock still standing tall form the rumba
sandwich. All three women were naked around him, as Ginny said,
"You can talk the talk, big boy, but can you walk the walk?" With
that she pulled the gag out of his mouth and replaced it with her
pussy. "Keep me entertained, friend -- keep us all entertained!"
As he started licking, he felt fingers toying with his penis, the
nails lightly running up the shaft to the crown, a hand hefting his
balls, then rimming his anus. Ginny's legs were over his ears, so
he could only react to what he felt and Ginny's movements. One of
his arms was untied, and his hand was placed on a breast. Sandy's
he guessed, which meant that Meg was the one teasing him at the other
end. He massaged the breast as he nibbled, kissed and licked Ginny's
vagina. He ringed her clitoris, feeling her response even as his
hand was moved to Sandy's other breast. His tongue made a beeline
for her vagina, pushing its way in with the desperation he was
feeling below, where Meg's fingers and tongue were keeping him on
the edge of being able to come. He thrust his hips, but into
unresisting air.
Now Ginny pressed heavily on his mouth, nearly breaking his nose with
the force of her pubic bone as she came on his tongue. He was dizzy
from lack of air by the time she got up from his face, and his cock
was throbbing painfully. "You should really thank Meg for keeping
you busy, you know," Ginny said, and with that Meg straddled his
head facing his feet. He had a choice of holes, and tested the
rosebud nearest him.
As Meg wriggled and settled onto his face, Sandy moved his hand from
her breast to her bush, and he worked his fingers around there. He
wondered what Ginny was doing, when the bench fell away from his hips
-- there must have been a drop-flap there. A pair of hands began to
massage his butt, occasionally reaching up to toy with his still-
aching cock and balls. She rubbed some kind of lotion into his anal
crack, then worked one finger up his ass. He started jerking and
jumping, as much as he could in his tied position, and his fingers
and tongue redoubled their efforts for Sandy and Meg. Everything
started happening at once then. First Sandy clenched his hand
between her thighs, then Meg reached down and grabbed his ass as
she pushed her ass onto his probing tongue, and Ginny's finger
found his prostate and pushed him over the edge as he shot and
jerked and twisted and screamed and shot...
When he came to, he was curled up in the back seat of his car,
in the parking lot at the dance club, and it was late morning.
Had it all been a dream? He was wearing his leather pants, his
silk shirt was fully buttoned. He looked up and saw, dangling
from the rear-view mirror, an hourglass-shaped piece of silk
with string ties...
--
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