Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
I’d be worried about how he was going to get home without his clothes, but my face is red with what I know is jealousy. Up until now, I’ve had him all to myself. And now here everyone else is, getting to enjoy that beautiful body. I wish I didn’t feel this way. He’s not even mine.
He turns back to the audience, who can now fully enjoy the bulge in the jockstrap, and that feeling that everyone else is enjoying that massive cock puts me even more on edge.
The crowd grows as more people join in, and Travis goes all Magic Mike, getting on his knees at the edge of the stage and moving his body to the beat in the way that best displays his abs, his chest…his fucking everything. Everyone’s shoving cash into his jockstrap, and in a matter of moments, I know he’s already made at least a hundred dollars.
The music finally stops and Miss Laurie Firebomb walks up the two steps that lead up to the stage. “Oh, I see you liked the little warm-up,” she says into her microphone. “This is a preview of what we’ve got for you tonight, boys.” She makes a big production of collecting the money from Travis and putting it in the tip bucket that no one bothered to use for Travis’s performance.
I’m going to be the laughingstock of Midtown for the next year, if not longer.
“I’m so glad I’m not going next,” Hayden says.
I glare at him. “Sorry, dude,” he adds.
I pin my badge onto my shirt, and as I glance around to gauge the audience, I notice Peter looking at me from the opposite side of the bar. His expression makes me think he pities me. Like he’s sure I’m gonna get up there and make a complete idiot out of myself…and I might. He doesn’t think I can do this. But between his skepticism and a competitive spirit that’s risen from Travis’s performance—not to mention the jealous feelings that rage within me—I’m determined not to go down without a fight.
I still have a pair of scissors in my pocket from when I was putting up decorations this afternoon. I pull them out and cut a slit vertically down the center of my shirt collar.
“If he wants to play strippers, then let’s play strippers,” I say, setting the scissors onto the bar.
Hayden and Derek look at me like I’ve lost my mind, and maybe I have…or maybe the tequila is starting to kick in. Whatever the reason, I’m giving this my all…putting the beast that comes out in the sack into motion on stage.
Miss Laurie Firebomb chats up a bit while Travis hops down from the stage and turns back to me, winking. It’s like he knows nothing I can do could top his performance.
“So, let’s get this going with another boy, shall we?” Miss Laurie Firebomb says before announcing me.
I head for the stage as Nicki Minaj’s “Super Bass” starts up.
I bob to the beat, and I kick off my shoes and start up the steps.
I offer a little tease, pulling up my shirt, and the guys, clearly hyped up because of Travis, scream out for more.
I notice a guy right at the edge of the stage. He has dark hair, nearly as dark as Travis’s. His bright blue eyes are lit up with interest. And the look in his eyes gives me an idea. I’m not Travis. I can’t take on this whole audience like he did, but I can work it with a guy who’s into me. Travis has taught me that much, at least.
I grab the tip bucket and the chair in front of the stage. I place the bucket on the edge of the stage and the chair in the middle.
I turn back to the guy who can’t keep his eyes off me, approach him, and beckon him with my forefinger.
He glances around, obviously surprised that I singled him out.
When I reach the edge of the stage, I squat down and grab him by the collar of his polo.
I pull him onto the stage and guide him to the chair, which he sits in.
I face the audience and spread my legs, squat down, and give him a lap dance. I move my ass in circles on his pelvis. Show everyone how I work this Superass.
The guys and girls in the audience lose their shit, throwing their dollar bills onto the stage as I grab my shirt collar and rip so it tears down the middle.
I check Travis’s expression, wide-eyed. He appears impressed, and now I feel like I’m putting on this show for him more than anyone else.
I pull out of the sleeves of my ripped shirt and toss it into the audience before turning around and working my ass against my volunteer’s lap, continuing my dance.