Date: Tue, 3 Sep 2002 23:16:24 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Part NINE of Stripper!

STRIPPER!

Part  9

By Pete Brown (petebrownuk @ yahoo.com)

Read all of Pete's stories in
groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories


Dad was away about half an hour.  He came back into
the dressing room wearing his stage outfit - the
boots, tool belt, hard hat and tiny posing pouch.  His
Jeans and T were slung casually over his arm.

It must have been hot out there in the room, and dad
must have been working really hard.  His legs were
running with sweat, it had plastered all the hair on
his chest close to his body, and the tiny white pouch
that was supposed to conceal his dick had gone almost
totally translucent, and little was left to the
imagination.

"Hey, Steve... Well done!  We can tell from the noise
that you really wowed them out there, man", one of the
other strippers said.

Dad was grinning from ear to ear.  "Yes, and the tips
are pretty good!  One bitch even pushed a hundred down
the top of my pouch!  Jesus, those women sure are hot
for it - haven't they got husbands or boy friends to
look at?"

"Just be grateful, Steve.  If they were seeing bodies
like ours at home, they wouldn't be paying money to
come and see us here!"

Dad had stood with first one foot and then the other
on the bench to take off his work boots whilst they
had been speaking, and I saw again his fantastic
muscular development in the ass and thighs - I could
understand why the women were going wild!  Free of his
boots, he at once pulled the tiny pouch off, and
dropped it on the floor.  He gave that characteristic
little flip of his dick that men do when they're
release from tight pants, to shake it free from where
it was sticking to his balls, and just stood there in
his leather tool belt and hard hat.

I could see the other strippers looking at dad, and,
even in this room of guys with great bodies and nice
faces, I could see that he was exceptional.  There
must be something about doing hard physical labour
that gives you a different kind of muscle from that
you get in the gym - dad's were long and sort of lean
and stringy, whereas one of the other strippers was
more of a "muscle stud" and had big puffed-up muscles
from too many hours in the gym.  I know whose legs I'd
rather have wrapped around me!

Dad dropped his tool belt onto the bench, and walked
to the shower, his dick and balls swinging proudly as
he went.  It's strange, isn't it, how some guys try to
cover themselves up in front of other guys - even if
they don't actually put their hands over their dicks,
they kind of bend slightly, as if to try to keep their
tackle  back from public gaze.  But you could tell dad
was proud of being a man, and proud of  being in
control of his body as he strode down the room.  His
shoulders were held proudly back, and his whole
demeanour was of a man totally in control of himself.

He stood under the shower, looking out at us, as he
soaped himself all over, paying particular attention
to his balls and his ass crack.  Funny, isn't it -
when you're in the showers after a game most guys
stand turned towards the wall as if they ware ashamed
of their dicks.  Dad clearly wasn't, and didn't - he
was totally exposed to all of the rest of us as we sat
there in the changing room.

The next guy on had got into his costume whilst dad
was showering, and he looked fake - he had a sort of
false cop's uniform on, and was carrying a big plastic
truncheon!  I could see why dad's authentic mining
gear was a good idea - it must have made the audience
think that they were getting a real man - a man who
might just have stepped out of the mine, and not some
paid performer with overdeveloped muscles.  Dad
finished changing, packed his gear neatly into his kit
bag (including his sweat-soaked pouch), and we said
goodnight to the other men, and left.

On the way home, dad talked about how he felt.  He
hated having to prance around in front of all those
women, knowing they were looking at his ass and his
dick, and probably fantasising about him screwing
them.  He loathed  the touch of their long finger
nails as they ran their hands over his body as he
worked the tables, and he said the worst thing of all
was the way they poked a finger under one of the
strings holding his pouch in place to push a note
down.  "They always let it snap back against my body",
he said - it's as if they like to hear the little slap
of it against my flesh."

But he'd done well that night - another twelve hundred
dollars in the family treasure chest!

Dad seemed a bit more cheerful than he had the night
before, too.  "I don't know whether it's because I'm
already getting used to it, Steve", he told me, "Or
whether it's being with those guys in the changing
room.  They're a great bunch of men, and it's just
like being back in the marines, or at work in the
mines:  you really can't get to know a group of guys
until you've been naked with them.  That's probably
why team sports are so great for male bonding - it's
not so much playing the game that matters, but being
there in front of your team mates with nothing on.
There's no ability to say 'I am the richest' or 'I
have the best job' or 'My designer clothes are better
than yours'.  When we're all in the buff, we're all
equal.  And it's guys like you and me, Steve, with the
biggest dicks, and lowest-hanging balls, who are the
real winners!"

We laughed and joked a lot, and dad seemed to be
really happy now with it all.  "Almost the worse
thing, Steve, was keeping it a secret from you.  I
don't know why I did - it's not as if you're ashamed
to have your dad being a stripper, are you?"

"Of course not, dad!  There aren't many dads who'd go
as far as you to try and put their sons through
college.  But then there aren't a lot of dads who
could - when I look at the bunch who come along to
support our team, you're the only one amongst them
who'd people would pay good money to see naked.  The
rest are all overweight and out of condition, from
sitting behind a desk all day."

The drive home seemed to take almost no time, and we
tumbled intro bed together, still talking away.  I
wanted to fuck as it was Saturday night, but dad said
he was too tired after the drive and the work and
everything, so I just jerked him off, tenderly, and we
drifted off into sleep in each other's arms.

On Sunday the team had a game, and dad came along to
support us of course.  I actually saw him eyeing the
other fathers in the bleachers, and I guessed he was
checking out what I'd said about him being the biggest
stud of them all!

The week went by as usual, and Jase stayed over one
night with us, and on Friday and Saturday I insisted
that dad let me go with him on the drive.  It was
really great talking to the guys in the changing room,
and they were the way I wanted to be when I was a man:
 sure of themselves, confident, and knowing what they
wanted.  All of them had made a positive decision to
strip, and all of them had a good reason - a  boat, to
be able to quit work and lie on a beach, or to keep a
girlfriend who had expensive tastes.... Every one
different!

School was almost our for Summer, and I knew I
couldn't get a job in the town as there just weren't
any.  We didn't even have a McDonalds or anything as
the place was just too small, and we were off the main
highway so there was  no passing trade.  All I could
do therefore  was to work away at my assignments, and
to make sure dad did not have to do anything when he
got home in the evening:  I cut the grass, weeded the
yard, did the marketing, all that kind of stuff.

I went with dad every single Friday and Saturday to
Albuquerque, and had found that there was a small
window from a corridor leading from the dressing room
to the fire escape, that gave you a view into the show
room.  I used to sneak out and watch the acts from
this vantage point, including dad,  and it was a real
turn on - those guys really did know how to show off
their bodies.  I'd stand there, pushing my pelvis out
and throwing my shoulders back, almost training my
body to do the type of things I saw below me.

The MC, the guy in the tux, Bill, saw me doing this
one night, when dad was performing.

"Hey, Steve!"

I jumped and almost shouted out.

"Jesus fucking H, Bill, you scared the shit out of
me."

He looked out through the window, and saw dad gyrating
in front of a woman, thrusting himself towards her to
tempt the bill she was holding out of her hands and
into his pouch.

"Concentrating so hard on your dad, were you, that you
didn't hear me?  I'm surprised you want to watch
him... You must get to see him all the time at home,
and not with that little pouch hiding his dick away,
either....  I bet your mom is pleased to have such a
fine hunk of a husband."

"Actually, Bill, mom died when I was nine.  So it's
just dad and me living together.  And you're right - I
do get to see all of him - we don't make a thing about
nakedness, and as two guys together we don't bother
about locking the bathroom door if one of is going to
shower."

"I bet you're built just like your dad, aren't you?"

"Well, I like to keep in shape...."

"I mean, your dad's a bit unusual, as he's still got
his foreskin.  Did he keep the doctor's knife away
from you when you were a lad, too?"

"Actually, yes"

"Look, Steve, this is difficult to say, as your dad
would be very upset if he knew.  But there's a group
of ladies in this city who are always looking for new
boys to strip for them.  And they like them young!
They won't come here, and you have to go to their
house - they particularly like the young,
inexperienced strippers, and I usually try out new
'acts' on them.  If a guy wants to do it, and can go
and take his clothes off in front of those ladies,
then he's going to find it easier on his first night
here.  You wouldn't be interested, would you....?  The
pay is excellent!"

My dick leapt into the air as Bill was saying this.
The idea of taking my clothes off in front of other
people was a real turn on.

"Well, I don't know, Bill.... As you say, dad wouldn't
like it - I'm sure, in fact, that he'd forbid it.  But
the money sure does sound good.  But there's another
problem - I'm only 16, not 17 for another month...
Don't you have to be 21 or something?"

"Yes, Steve, you do.  But you look older -  I'm sure
you could pass for a guy of 21, a youngish guy of 21,
sure, from looking at your face. I suppose it depends
on your body.  There's always a big difference between
a 'youth' and a real 'man', and a lot of muscle
development goes on between 16 and 20."

"Well, no need to worry on that score, Bill.  I really
work out, and I work hard around the house and yard.
I think I'm really well developed for a guy of my
age."

"So if you want to go ahead, are you willing to give
me a demonstration?"

"Sure, why not, Bill?"

"Come to my office now then - your daddy's really
making those ladies down there wet their pants
tonight, and he'll carry on working the tables as long
as they're feeding that pouch of his!"

He turned and walked back down the corridor, and I
followed him.

It wasn't much of an office - a few shelves with
files, a wooden desk with a chair behind it, and a
couple of chairs in front of it.  The floor was
polished wood, and there was a big space in front of
the desk, with a strong light shining down from the
ceiling on to it.

"This is where I do all the auditions, Steve.  Not
nervous, are you?  Not worried about taking your
clothes off in front of another guy - a guy much older
than you?"

"No, of course not, Bill!"

"OK - go to it then.  Why don't you get almost naked -
keep your boxers or whatever on."

Actually, I was nervous.  Of course I was used to
being nude in front of dad and Jase, and in front of
my team mates; and Coach, of course, as he always
watched us changing for practice and matches.  But
this guy was sitting there behind a desk, in a tux.
There's something different about getting naked when
the other guys around you are naked, and when a
fully-clothed man is watching you.

As I bent down to take off my trainers and socks,
another problem occurred to me - in the Summer, dad
and I never bothered about underwear.  As he always
pointed out, your Jeans get all sweaty anyway and so
have to go in the washer  every couple of days, so it
wasn't as if you were trying to keep piss or anything
off them.  And we were both so well hung that ordinary
Jeans held us quite snugly anyway, without the need
for briefs to give us support.  Anyway, what the hell,
I thought - I'd show Bill everything I'd got!

I stood in front of Bill, facing him, whilst I undid
the buckle on my belt, and then remembering how dad
did it, I turned my back to him to wriggle my Jeans
half way down my ass, then turned to face him again as
I pushed them down to my knees, showing him my dick
and balls.  I saw him betray himself slightly by
taking a little suck in of air as he saw my dick, and
I deliberately turned my ass to him as I stood there
on first one foot, and then the other, pulling my
Jeans over my feet.  I felt sure he'd get a flash of
my hole, and would anyway see my balls hanging low
down between my thighs.

Turning around to face him, I slowly pulled my T up
over my stomach, then crossed my arms to pull it
higher and help it over my head.  I felt my dick jerk
upwards slightly, as my stomach muscles pulled up when
my arms were raised like this.  When it was off - and
I took a long time to get it over my head so Bill
could have a proper visual check at my belly, chest,
and dick -  I tossed it aside, almost contemptuously,
once it was clear of me, and stood there facing him
totally naked.

"Like what you see?  Think I could pass as a 21 year
old?"

"You sure are hung like your dad, I'll say that for
you.  Turn around and let me look at that ass of yours
again."

I did as he told me.

"Now bend down, spread your feet, and grasp your
ankles."

I could feel my ass muscles and my thighs being
stretched as I did it, and knew that Bill  would be
getting a prime view of my asshole, my balls, and my
dick.

"OK, Steve.  Now face me, and flex your biceps."

Again, I did as I was told, and stood there in that
classic pose with my arms out at right angles.  As I
was doing this, though, I felt my dick starting to go
erect.  I think it was the sheer erotic feeling of
having this man order me to display myself to him.

"Nice!", Bill said.  "But it's a problem for you if
you've got a hair-trigger dick like that.  The ladies
like to see a man's dick, and like to see it half
erect, but a real hard boner like that, jutting to the
sky, scares them.  They don't like their strippers to
be totally male like that and show them what they're
probably missing from their idle husbands."

"But I thought that we all wore those little posing
pouches.  Don't they stop you getting erect?"

"No.  It just keeps your dick crushed in to your body.
 But for these very special private parties the guys
don't wear pouches anyway - it's totally naked.
That's what they're paying for, to see young virile
men flaunting their bodies around.  Some of  the
really horny guys have to jerk themselves off in the
changing room, to make sure there are no 'accidents'
during their act."

"How would you feel about that", he went on.

"I don't know.  About what?  Appearing naked, or
having to jerk off in the changing room?"

Bill laughed.  "We've got a comic here.  I mean, how
does it feel being naked in front of me?"

"Oh, you're OK, you're a guy, Bill.  I've no problem
of being in the buff in front of other guys."

"OK, Steve. Let me think about this.  You'd better get
those clothes back on, as your dad will have finished
and be wondering where you've gone to.  I don't
suppose he'd be very pleased if he thought you'd been
watching his act, anyway, so you'd better think of
some reason for not waiting in the changing room."

"I don't think dad would mind really.  We're pretty
free and easy at home, after all.  I see a great deal
more of him every morning and every night in the
bathroom than I actually do here with that little
pouch on!"

I was pulling my clothes on, and Bill continued

"I see you shave your balls, like your daddy."

"Yes.  Dad taught me to do that, as it feels better."
I realised I was getting onto dangerous ground here,
as not all men appreciate that a father and son can be
as close as dad and I are.

"Feel better?"

"Yes, you know, when you've got them in your hand, and
you're jerking yourself off, and you're waiting to
feel that tightening as you shoot... Well, it feels
better without all that hair between your balls and
your palm.  You should try it!"

Bill laughed, and we went back to the changing room,
where dad was in the shower.

Dad was at work on Tuesday when the phone rang.

"Steve?  It's Bill."

"Hi, Bill."

"Is your dad around?"

"No, Bill, he's at work.  Shall I get him to call you
when he comes in?"

"No, Steve, it's you I want to talk to.  But I wanted
to be certain your dad couldn't hear."

"You know what we were talking about the other night",
he went on, "Well, there's an opportunity, next week."

"A private party, for 20 ladies.  Just to take your
clothes off, and dance a bit.  They particularly asked
for a well-build young guy.... And I thought of you."

"I'm not sure...."

"It's a straight thousand for you, cash."

"Fucking A, Bill!  A thousand?  I'll dance naked for
that!"

"No, Steve.  As I said the other night, these are
respectable ladies, and they will want you to be
concealed in a pouch."

"I'll do it!  There's just two problems:  I can't
dance.  And I can't get to Albuquerque."

"Don't worry about the dancing - just move around as
if you were at a disco, or something.  You don't need
an 'act'.  You're supposed to be young and innocent -
although I'm beginning to doubt that!  But why can't
you get to Albuquerque?  Isn't there a bus?"

"Yes.  But it only runs once a day.  So I can't get
back."

"Well, stay over.   You can sleep on a couch here at
the Club."

"No, it's not that - it's telling dad.  He'd never let
me do it, and if I stay over, he'll know something
strange is happening."

"Well, when I was a lad, I used to tell my folks that
I was going on a special school trip - just invent
something you need to do, like research a project in
the museum, and say the school is arranging it as a
vacation activity."

So I did.  I hated lying to dad, but I knew that he'd
never let me do what I really intended, and I
took the bus to Albuquerque on a hot, bright day.

Bill was pleased to see me, but said that there had
been an unexpected hitch:  the ladies I had been
booked to perform in front of had changed their minds!

"Jesus, Bill!  I've come all this way.  And I'm out
all those bucks for the fare.  Can I still crash out
here tonight, though?"

"Sure, Steve.  And things may not be as bad as you
think.  The ladies have backed out, but there's a
group of men who meet regularly one a month for - for,
shall we say, mutual relaxation - and they like a
little entertainment before they get down to the
serious business.  I can pay you a thousand if you're
prepared to strip for them."

"Sure, no problem."

"Well, there might be.... You see they're gay guys,
and they want to see you totally naked.  You have to
get rid of the pouch, too."

My dick gave a little stir at the thought of having a
whole lot of men look me over.  Actually, it was quite
exciting, in a way.  After all, I'd got nothing to be
ashamed of.

"Well... I suppose that's OK, Bill..... But, look,
these guys.... They're gay, right.  So won't they want
to touch me, paw me, and even try to fuck me?"

"Steve, I'm sure they'll WANT to touch you, and most
of them will WANT to fuck you - you are, after all, a
most desirable piece of man flesh.  But they're just
ordinary guys, you know.   Tell me, when you see a
girl you fancy, do you paw her, do you leap on her and
fuck her?"

"No, of course not."

"So even though you want to, you keep yourself under
control, right?"

"Yes, sure."

"Well then, as I said, these guys are guys, just like
you and me. They might fancy you like mad.  They might
be drooling at the mouth at the sight of your
succulent body.  Their dicks will probably be hard and
leaking pre-cum into their pants.... But they're
civilised men, as we are.  They'll keep themselves
under control.  Just because you're gay, it doesn't
mean you force yourself on every desirable man you see
in the streets, or, in your case, who is performing in
front of them."

"I guess you're right, Bill.  I hadn't thought of it
like that.  But, tell me, if I've got to get
completely naked in front of them, where do my tips
go?  When dad dances, they tuck the bills under the
string of his pouch..."

"Down your ass crack, Steve."

"What?  You mean they're going to stuff bills between
my ass cheeks?"

"Well, where else?  Of course, if you don't want the
tips, I an always make a special announcement...." .

I shrugged, to show Bill that I really wanted the
tips.  If this is what it took, why not, after all?

End of part 9.  To be continued.