School wasn't for me, but I was blessed with a hard, lean body and cock that any porn star would be proud of. Being a male stripper isn't as glamorous as it sounds. For every bachelorette party with beautiful young woman, there are ten gigs with fat old ladies and another ten with creepy old men. My cock gets a lot of attention, but not a night goes by that someone doesn't try to stick a finger in my ass. I've slept with about a hundred clients, and that was fun at first. I don't even try to seduce them any more. I get propositioned constantly and the only ones I go home with now are the ones that offer me a financial incentive. And even a lot of those I turn down. It just gets boring after a while. I have to amuse myself.
A few nights ago, this middle-aged guy with a wedding ring was buying me drinks trying to get me in bed. He was a little chubby but not bad looking. He wouldn't leave me alone, so I finally said "put some cash in my pocket, take me to your hotel room and I'll fuck you like a farm animal. And I won't wear a condom." I can't say it surprised me when he took me up on my offer. Forty minutes later I had him bent over the back of a chair, fucking his fat ass like a prison whore. I tell them all to lick my cock clean after it's been in their ass. Not all of them do it, but a lot of them will just to get one last chance to put my cock in their mouth. Or maybe they just need to degrade themselves. They all want me to stay the night and cuddle and fuck them again before breakfast, but that's not really my thing.
I get a lot of repeat customers. Some people save for their dream vacation to Hawaii, but there are a lot of perverted old men that save up to come get butt-fucked by a twenty year-old male stripper with a monster cock.
I also go home with a lot of couples. I think every suburban dad and his brother dreams of watching his wife get fucked by someone like me. It never ceases to amaze me how many of the beautiful people want me to fuck their spouse while they watch. I think it's because most people assume their spouse isn't going to leave them for a high school drop-out covered in tattoos, no matter how big his cock is. For a lot of them, being with me is the ultimate rebellion, breaking all the rules and slumming it with the white trash dancer. They might not tell their friends at the country club, but I bet they relive it when they are alone together.
Last night this young stock broker-type named Huey offered to buy me a drink if I sat with him and his mousey-looking wife. Her name was Beth and she didn't have much to say. She had a small frame, fair skin, frizzy hair and big glasses that made her face look a little like a fruit fly. Huey was running his mouth about stupid shit, and Beth was sitting there listening like what he said was interesting. I got bored and ran my fingers through her hair and massaged her neck. She relaxed a little and let me run my hands over her. Huey kept blathering on.
"I bet you're fun in bed," I said to her. I put my hands down her dress and my fingers made their way to her bra. She didn't say a word or move a muscle when I began squeezing her nipples. Huey paused, but continued talking as I felt up his wife.
"Your husband doesn't seem to mind," I said. "Why don't you stand up and let me finger fuck you right here. No one will mind," I said to Beth.
Huey interjected "not here. Let's go to our room."
