Sunday, November 29, 2015

A Very Scandalous Affair - Part One

Quite some time ago, I stripped for a bachelorette party at the beach at night. For some reason, they could not have a stripper at their condo because their landlord had a “no parties” rule. The condos resided inside a gated community with private security guards enforcing the rules around the clock, so any attempts at partying were likely to be foiled.
There was no rule against having a male stripper on the private beach, however.

The customer, a young tanned girl named Brittney, wanted me to act like one of the private security guards. Since there was a “no open containers” rule for the beach, I was to spring upon the unsuspecting bride as she drank and partied with her friends on the beach.
It was around 10 p.m., and about five girls were lounging around on lawn chairs, drinking and conversing. Their voices carried over the sound of the sea breeze and waves lapping against the shore. I approached them, highlighting the group with the beam of my flashlight.
Everyone turned towards me. To my surprise, two young Asian guys sat with them.
I frowned. From my experience, the presence of men is something of a wild card at these parties. You never know what to expect. Sometimes they’re easygoing and good-natured about having a male stripper around, and other times they’re jealous, insecure, and spiteful.
“Security,” I announced to the crowd. “You can’t be on the beach after nine, and you definitely can’t be drinking alcohol.”
“I’m sorry,” one of the girls said, then pointed to a girl wearing a white veil. “It’s her bachelorette party and we didn’t want to make a lot of noise at the condo.”
“Which condo are you staying at?” I demanded.
The bride stood up. “It’s okay. We’ll leave now.”
“Hold on,” I said gravely as if I were about to give her a hard time. I pulled out a speaker, which she couldn’t see in the dark. “You know you can’t have open containers out here.”
“I’m so sorry. We’ll clean up and leave.”
“Not so fast,” I said. I pressed the “play” button on the music player.
The other girls cheered.
The bride still looked confused as I began dancing, but realization soon dawned on her, and she broke out into laughter.
The two Asian men stared at me in silence as I stripped down to a thong and proceeded to hump the bride on one of the wooden lawn chairs.
After the bride, I went to the next girl, and the next. These girls were enthusiastic about having a male stripper and weren’t afraid to show it.
When I suggested body shots, the bride laid down on the lawn chair and lifted her dress. Her friend poured some vodka on her midsection, and I lapped it up.
The girls wanted more.
“Show him your boobs,” one blonde said, attempting to pull the bride’s top down.
The bride swatted her friend’s hand away. “Stop! You show him yours!”
“Okay!” the blonde said, sitting down next to the bride. She lowered the strap of her dress and pushed her tits together.
The Asian guys peered up in interest, but they could only see the blonde’s back.
I later learned that these guys weren’t part of the group. They were walking along the beach when they stumbled upon the group of girls and decided to hang out, drink, and perhaps get lucky with one of them. I could only imagine their surprise upon having a male stripper interrupt their fun.
I knelt before the blonde and took one her nipples into my mouth. She moaned. The other girls cheered. I heard nothing from the guys.
After a few minutes of having my face buried in the blonde’s chest, another girl wanted a turn doing the exact same thing, so I sucked on her breasts as well. During the midst of all this, I vaguely remember several hands pulling the strap of my thong to slip in a few tip dollars.
Next I took fireball shots from the bride’s midsection. The girls screamed in delight. Luckily, we were a good distance from the condos, because the neighbors would’ve made a noise complaint by now.
Every girl had a turn with me except Brittney. The other girls tried to get her to join, but she lingered around the Asian guys and refused to get involved.
I decided to end the show when two additional men came strolling towards our group. The favorable girl to guy ratio enticed them, but they probably hadn’t noticed me wearing a thong yet.
Despite the new arrivals, two of the girls still surrounded me as I tried to get dress.
The blonde, who introduced herself as Jen, reached down to massage the contour of my cock. “Don’t get dressed yet – I wanna see it!” she said.
“Yeah, show us,” another girl said.
Without waiting for a response, Jen pulled down the front of my thong.
I quickly pulled it back up, and looked back at the newcomers, who were now talking to Brittney and the bride. “Not now,” I said. “There’s a bunch of guys here.”
“So?” Jen said.
“So I’m not fond of the idea of showing them my cock.”
“If they don’t like it, they can look away,” Jen said, reaching down again to massage me.
This was the first time a girl tried to jerk me off in front of a group of strangers on a beach, and I wasn’t exactly sure what to do. A part of me enjoyed her attention and wanted her to continue, but I was hesitant.
Eventually the swarm of mosquitoes and various insects interrupted everyone’s revelry. Being almost naked, I already had a lot of bites. The other girls suffered almost as much. We decided to leave the beach.
The two surfer guys continued their stroll down the beach, while the two Asian guys followed me and the girls back. I learned that they were staying in neighboring condos.
“You look kind of Asian,” one of the guys said.
“I’m half,” I replied.
“That’s awesome, man! Do you think I could become a stripper? I work out a lot and all. Your job looks really fun.”
I’m sure it did, considering he witnessed me sucking on breasts, getting a brief handjob, not to mention what else may follow. I told him a few of the basic requirements of being a male stripper, such as being in shape and having costumes.
As we neared the condos, the girls hugged me and thanked me. Jen asked if I wanted to go out to the club with them.
“I can’t,” I smiled. “I have work my day job in the morning.”
“Call in sick.”
“Can’t do that. Not at the last minute.”
“Awwww… Can you want to hang out with us before we go back to Missouri?”
“Maybe. I’ll check my schedule and see.”
We exchanged phone numbers.
“I’ll send you some pics, too!” she said. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the club with us?”
Brittney, who was aloof throughout the party, hooked her arm into mine and pulled me aside. “You should probably go. I want to get these drunk bitches to bed and they’re trying to use you as an excuse to go to club.”
I agreed. I had work in the morning anyway and was already not going to get much sleep.
“Thanks again,” Brittney said in a distant tone.
That was not the last time I would see these girls.




Continued in PART TWO.

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