Not a Minute Too Soon
By
Tanya Simmonds
Tanya Simmonds
Foreword
Thank you for joining me for this special re-presentation of Oral or Manual? – A True Story. (That was its original title.) This is where it began for me – an autobiographical account of an event that changed my life.
In 2004, I was a novice writer. However, my rusty first effort, Oral or Manual? – A True Story, attracted the attention of a myriad of tastes, the majority of which were from the BDSM community.
At the time, I was shocked. Their interest was apparently down to a virtually ‘throw-away’ line in my story. Subsequently, I became inundated with requests to write stories based around S & M fantasies. Some were so disgusting, I dismissed them outright. But using my own initiative, I created a niche that resulted in six femdom novels with four publishers on both sides of the Atlantic, and five star ratings on Amazon.
During the process of seeking a publishing deal, I was offered £150 for Oral or Manual? if I could edit it down to 3,000 words. After some consideration, I refused. This story doesn’t belong to the commercial world. It belongs to the world of human sensuality.
I invite you to read my closing comments at the end of the story.
Tanya Simmonds
In 2004, I was a novice writer. However, my rusty first effort, Oral or Manual? – A True Story, attracted the attention of a myriad of tastes, the majority of which were from the BDSM community.
At the time, I was shocked. Their interest was apparently down to a virtually ‘throw-away’ line in my story. Subsequently, I became inundated with requests to write stories based around S & M fantasies. Some were so disgusting, I dismissed them outright. But using my own initiative, I created a niche that resulted in six femdom novels with four publishers on both sides of the Atlantic, and five star ratings on Amazon.
During the process of seeking a publishing deal, I was offered £150 for Oral or Manual? if I could edit it down to 3,000 words. After some consideration, I refused. This story doesn’t belong to the commercial world. It belongs to the world of human sensuality.
I invite you to read my closing comments at the end of the story.
Tanya Simmonds
Not a Minute Too Soon
By
Tanya Simmonds
“Are we having the party here, Janine?” Vickie Blake said.
Janine Saunders brushed a strand of her fair hair from her brow and turned to her friend. At thirty and single, Vickie was extremely wild. Janine wasn’t enthusiastic about a party at that moment. She was still recovering from her recent divorce from her cardio-surgeon husband, and wasn’t feeling particularly celebratory. Her ex-husband was successful, but had too much of a taste for extra-marital encounters. A successful lawyer, she remained in the former marital home in Warwick, Central England. She was emotionally supported by numerous girl friends, one of whom, Stacy Parkhouse, was preparing to marry.
It was the week prior to Stacy’s hen night, and Vickie was typically enthusiastic.
“I thought it would be better than going into town,” Janine said. “Too many arseholes.”
“That’s true enough. Why don’t we get her a stripper?”
Janine’s eyebrows rose as she processed the suggestion. “Do you really think Stacy would like that?”
“Well, probably not, but she got one for me on my birthday a couple of years back. God, he was awful.”
Janine frowned. “I heard about that. Quite ugly or something, wasn’t he?”
Vickie’s face crumpled in revulsion. “Hideous, skinny, and he had body odour. Stacy was even more embarrassed about it than I was.”
“Well, what if the same happens again? Stripograms have a terrible reputation in this area. It’s something you do for someone you don’t like.”
“You’ve got a point. Shall we check the Yellow Pages and see what’s on offer?”
Janine stepped over to the kitchen telephone and picked up the book. After flicking through the pages, she began perusing for stripograms. There appeared to be four companies advertising that type of service. Three were offering both male and female strippers with advertising accompanied by cartoon artwork.
It was the second ad in the column that caught Janine’s eye. It was the only ad that sported an actual photograph of a man – and a gorgeous man at that. He appeared to be broad-shouldered, lean with defined pectorals, a six-pack abdominal structure, and short dark hair. The picture was quite small, although there was enough there to convey the message. She focused upon the ad, and a change of heart came over her. It was almost haunting.
The business was advertised as Ultimate Stud Stripograms, and the heading was followed by an appealing slogan: ‘Gorgeous Guys for the Ladies only – These Guys Are The Real Thing.’ Complimented by the image of the beautiful young man, a company which specialised purely in male strippers for ladies, sold the idea.
“Hello,” Vickie said, waving her hand back and forth across Janine’s eyes. “Earth to Janine. Earth to Janine.”
Janine realised she’d become momentarily trance-like at the sight of the ad. “Look at this one.”
Vickie took the book and studied the ad. “Oh, yes definitely,” she said excitedly. “Call them.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, I’m serious. Call them and get a price. There are sixteen of us coming to the party. We can all chip in.”
Smiling mischievously, Janine stepped over to the telephone and dialled the number, her heart pounding louder with each touch of the keypad. It marked the first time she’d ever done anything like this.
After two rings, the call was answered by a warm-sounding female voice. “Ultimate Stud Stripograms, how can I help?”
“Oh, hello,” Janine said, trying to sound confident. “I’m having a hen night at my home on Saturday, and we were considering having a male stripper.”
“Certainly. Whereabouts is your home?”
“Warwick.”
“Warwick? No problem. And what time were you thinking of having it?”
“Just a moment, I’ll ask my friend.” Janine called over to Vickie in a hushed whisper. “What time on Saturday do you think?”
“Shall we say . . . about eleven? She’ll be well tanked up by then.”
Janine realised Vickie’s plan was calculated. If Stacy was intoxicated at the time, there was the possibility of her being more receptive to the idea of having a total stranger make a spectacle of himself in front of her.
“How about eleven o’ clock?” Janine said to the lady.
“Oh, quite a late one,” the woman said. “In that case, no problem. You can take your pick of the guys. They’ll have finished by that time.”
“Seriously?”
“Of course.”
“The guy in the photo in the book. Can we have him?”
“Logan? Yes, he’s available. He really is gorgeous. And he’s American.”
Logan? That can’t be his real name. But then, if he’s American . . . She felt a sudden secretion tricking in her groin, and it startled her. She was becoming sexually aroused as thoughts of romantic and erotic scenes flooded her mind.
“Would you want the full monty show, or would you prefer that he leave his g-string on?” the lady said.
“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.” Janine lowered the phone again. “G-string or full monty, Vic?”
“Full monty.” There was no hesitation in Vickie’s tone.
“Full monty,” Janine conveyed back to the lady.
“Are you aware that a full monty show is quite hard-core and sexually graphic?”
“Just a second.” Janine lowered the phone again. “Vic, she says that the full monty show is quite graphic.”
“Great. Book it.”
Janine replaced the receiver to her ear. “Yes, that’s fine. What would be the cost for this, and how long would he be on for?”
“A full monty in the Warwick area? That would be eighty pounds, payable to the stripper on the night before he goes in. He’ll be performing on her for approximately ten minutes, which might not seem that long, but trust me. In those ten minutes, everything you could possibly imagine will happen.”
“Eighty-pounds.”
Vickie gave an eager thumbs-up.
“That’s fine. Can I go ahead and book it, please?”
“Of course,” the lady said. “Now, I must take you through a few things first. Do you have a CD player in the area where he’ll be performing?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Good. This is a full monty show so I’ll need to get him there for ten-thirty, because he’ll need to prepare.”
“Prepare?”
Vickie fell off of her chair in fits of hysterics.
What the hell is with her? What does ‘prepare’ mean?
“Yes,” the lady said. “And for that, he’ll need a private room where he can be alone to . . . do what he has to do.”
“Oh, there are several rooms here where he can get changed.”
“Well . . . he’ll be doing more than getting changed.”
Janine was beginning to get a clue as to what this might be all about. The thought of such a gorgeous man masturbating himself to erection in her bedroom seemed somewhat erotically sweet. “That’s not a problem.”
“Wonderful. Then you will wait for him outside the house at ten-thirty?”
“Certainly.”
“In that case, I’ll need your name and the address.”
Janine gave the details.
Then, the lady spoke again “All right, you’ve booked a hard-core full monty show, for a performance late at night, in a private house.”
“Yes.”
“OK, might I be correct in assuming you’re quite . . . broad-minded?”
Broad-minded? What’s broad-minded? Oh, Vicky, why didn’t I just give the damn phone to you? “Well . . . I think I am.”
“How would you feel if I were to tell you that you fit the criteria for the free-of-charge extras?”
Janine’s senses went into overdrive with curiosity. “Free-of-charge extras?”
Vickie’s face shot up.
“Now, you must promise me that you won’t be offended by this,” the woman said.
“I won’t, I won’t.”
“As you might be aware, stripograms around these parts almost never live up to expectation.”
“So I hear.”
“Well, unfortunately, this has caused people to be wary about booking them. What we have here are some truly gorgeous guys who are members of the male dance revue Lust Shock. We want to let the public know that they are available for private party shows. They agreed to a proposal that nobody else will compete with, and which will create an unforgettable memory.”
“Well . . . what do they do?”
“They have to work within the law. There might be legal issues with a stripper engaging in sexual intercourse with a guest at the time and place of a performance. We just can’t be sure.”
Janine’s lawyer eyebrows rose. No, there actually isn’t. That’s legal with consent.
“After his performance, providing it occurs within a private room, away from public view, the other person is consenting, and no money has changed hands for it . . . he can pleasure a woman to orgasm, by manual stimulation. Or, should the lady prefer . . . he can go down on her.”
Janine felt the urge to masturbate, and her heart raced with excitement. “A-are you serious?”
“Yes. But we do restrict this to one lady. It’s a gift for her pleasure. We only ask that she isn’t married, and preferably doesn’t have a boyfriend. We want to be competitive, but we also want to avoid problems.”
Janine silently made her choice. “Um . . . OK. I’ll make a few enquiries.”
“I’m so happy that you’re pleased,” the lady said warmly. “Oh, and there is one other thing.”
“What’s that?”
“We want to provide the ultimate service, and in view of our highly disappointing competition, we have one more offer for you.”
“What’s that?”
“Many ladies also complain about the inadequate penis size of many of these stripogram-types. Given that you are the lady who’s booked the show, you may do a pre-show penis-size check on Logan.”
Janine felt her jaw lock. “Oh, thank you . . . T-that’s very kind of you.”
“But I can assure you, you won’t be disappointed. Have a wonderful party on Saturday.”
“Thank you.” Janine hung up and in a daze, and turned to Vickie.
“Well,” Vickie said. “What did she say?”
“Something so amazing. It’s too good to be true.”
“What?”
“She said that after his performance he can take one woman into a room and . . . perform on her orally.”
“No way. Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
***
Janine and Vickie discussed whether either of them could go through with the unbelievable offer from the stripogram agency. They eventually decided that, although the thought of it was an incredible turn-on, it might be very different when confronted with the reality. It was Vickie, the wild one, who displayed the most uncertainty. However, they decided not to discuss it with any of their friends. Most of them were either married or romantically involved. Even if they weren’t, Janine and Vickie wanted to keep their options open. If anyone was going to enjoy the offer, it would be one of them.
The night following the discussion with the stripogram agency, Janine masturbated passionately to the thought of the beautiful, muscular man in the photograph pleasuring her clitoris with his tongue. She brought herself to five orgasms that night.
Since her divorce, she’d had several one night stands, but none had shown great interest in her pleasure. They’d been totally selfish and had given her a series of unfulfilling experiences. Her husband had been very proficient with cunnilingus, but even he had never managed to bring her to a climax purely by the performance of his tongue. Neither did his physicality resemble that of the young man in the photograph. Never before had she been with a man who possessed such a body.
For five nights, she masturbated feverishly, giving herself only a night off. Should she be the one to experience the offer, she wanted to retain some sensitivity.
***
The night finally arrived. Janine’s living room was alive with drunken friends, laughing and dancing. Music blasted from the sound system, and the floor was littered with Ann Summers products.
At 10:15, Janine and Vickie looked at one another. It was only fifteen minutes before he was due to arrive. Earlier in the evening, they had secretly collected eighty pounds from guests at a rate of five pounds per head. By that time, Stacy was rather merry.
At 10:25, Janine and Vickie, seemingly innocently, walked out of the living room into the kitchen, and crept out of the house via the kitchen door. They walked along the side of the house where they awaited their quarry.
They’d been outside for barely more than a minute. Janine heard a car pulling up by the side of the house, behind the trees. She looked at Vickie, and they giggled nervously.
After a few moments, they heard the car door close. Footsteps came closer. Within seconds, he was in front of them, walking down the driveway, holding a sports bag over his shoulder. He smiled warmly.
He was easily over six feet, and broad-shouldered. His hair was gelled, and looked perhaps a little lighter than it appeared in the Yellow Pages photograph. However, it had been a black and white image on cheap, yellow paper stock.
His face seemed wholesome-looking to Janine, which she felt was unusual for a stripper. And yet, he was unmistakably rugged, as opposed to the contemporary, male-model, androgynous types. His skin was tanned and looked almost flawless. Janine estimated he was, perhaps mid-twenties, and his appeal was enhanced by his arriving in the uniform of a fire-fighter. Yes. He is absolutely gorgeous.
“Hi, ladies,” he said. “I’m Logan.”
Oh, my God. He is American, after all.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m Janine, and this is Vickie.”
Logan walked over and kissed Janine and Vickie each on the cheek. He was clearly a man who knew how to charm a lady. Janine couldn’t fail but to notice how gorgeous he smelled.
“This is for you.” Janine handed him the eighty pounds in cash.
“Thank you.”
“We have a room for you to get yourself set up, but we must creep up there quietly, otherwise Stacy will know you’re here.”
“Of course,” he said. “You just lead the way.”
God, that accent.
Janine and Vickie led him back around the side of the opulent house and into the kitchen. From there, they hurried him along the kitchen wall, out of view into the hallway to the awaiting stairwell. They crept upstairs and along the landing into Janine’s bedroom.
As they arrived, Vickie froze. She whispered into Janine’s ear, “I’ll leave you two to discuss . . . you know.”
Janine breathed a sigh of relief. There was to be no argument or dilemma now. Her fantasy was going to come true. She was to be the one.
Logan stepped into Janine’s bedroom. “A beautiful house you have, Ma’am,” he said.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll need about twenny minutes to prepare, so let’s synchronize watches. What time do you make it?”
“Ten-thirty-five.”
“Me to. I should be ready by ten-fifty-five, which is when I’ll be coming down.” He reached into his bag, produced a CD, and handed it to her. “Ma’am, I need you to get the CD ready to play this. Have Stacy sat in a chair in the middle of the room in twenny minutes. Play the music on the CD at full blast, and that’s when I’ll come in and let loose on her, OK?”
“OK.” Ask him. Ask him. “Um . . . Logan?”
“Yeah?”
“W-when I booked you, the lady I spoke to told me that there were . . . other things . . . that you do . . . I mean . . . after the show.”
Logan responded with great ease and confidence. “Sure. Do you have anyone in mind?”
“Well, yes.” She gazed longingly at him, slightly embarrassed, but the word fell from her lips. “Me.”
Logan’s eyes lit up. “Well, Ma’am, I would consider it an honour.”
How can he be so casual about something like that? His approach put her at ease. Enough for her to ask him a question she considered to be rather harsh and cruel. “There’s also something else I would like to ask.”
“Sure,” he said in the same easy-going tone.
“We’ve had strippers before who aren’t very . . . you know . . . well-endowed. I was told I could have a look at yours before you went downstairs.”
“Sure, OK. Just do me one favour.”
“Yes?”
“I told you it was going to take me twenny minutes to prepare, yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Well, look at your watch again and give me ten minutes. Just knock on that door, and I’ll let you have a look.”
“OK.”
“Would you like to see it erect or not?”
Janine blushed. “C-can I see it both ways?”
“Sure, but I might need your help if you want to see it erect quickly.”
Janine decided she couldn’t take any more. “I’ll see you in ten minutes.” She made her way out of the bedroom, grinning with embarrassment, yet impressed with herself for having the courage to ask him such questions. She closed the door and headed for the stairs.
***
Logan hurriedly dropped the pants off his fire-fighter uniform, grabbed a pornographic magazine out of his sports bag, and began to masturbate. He contemplated Janine’s words. It was extremely rare for a customer to accept the offer. On the occasions they did so, it was usually a fairly disgusting-looking, obese woman on a council estate. He was duty-bound to perform such an intimate act upon them, but it often caused him to gag.
However, Janine was an attractive, classy woman whose diction demonstrated quality. Her perfectly-groomed, shoulder-length, light brown hair and slender-yet-curvaceous body indicated she looked after herself. She wore just enough make-up to enhance her looks without looking cheap. He couldn’t deny he was enamoured by her.
Once he was in full erection, he reached into the bag and drew out a penis vacuum pump. After lubricating the shaft of his penis with baby oil, he slid it into the pump. With a few squeezes of the bulb, his member swelled within the flask as the vacuum caused it to completely fill the cylinder.
He looked at his watch and timed the inflation for two minutes. He then released the pressure for thirty seconds, after which, he inflated it again for another two minutes. As the slender arm of his watch touched the ‘12’, the second two minutes expired.
The expected knock on the door came. He quickly removed his manhood from the pump, carefully concealing it in his sports bag.
He stood up, naked from the waist down. His penis hung long and thick between his thighs. He walked across to the door and opened it inwards, concealing himself.
Janine stepped in. He closed the door behind him and turned to face her.
She looked him in the eye for a second, and then lowered her gaze to his groin. “You are a big boy, aren’t you?”
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
“How big does it get when you’re excited?”
“Well, I always get a little nervous before a gig, and it’s not always easy for me to get it up. Do you think you could help me there?”
“What do I have to do?”
“Well, you know,” he said awkwardly. “Would you . . . play with it?”
“Oh, I see. I don’t know. I mean . . . you want me to touch you there?”
“Yes.”
She reached out slowly and took hold of his manhood. It felt wonderful as she moved the foreskin back and forth, gently causing his respiration to increase. His penis began to swell, and she increased her pace upon him. Quickly, he became fully erect.
She moved closer as she stimulated him, and drew her lips to his. They kissed deeply and tenderly. Logan embraced her in what had become a sincere moment of intimacy.
She pulled away and stood back to behold the size of his erect penis, jutting out towards her. “Thank you, Logan. That’ll be fine.” She turned away and left the room.
He was extremely aroused since he knew what he’d be doing after his performance. He seized the moment, reached into his bag, and grabbed the bottle of lubricant to oil the base of his erection.
He then opened a side pocket in the bag and drew out a small polythene bag, filled with rubber bands. Taking a handful out, he dropped them onto Janine’s bed, retaining one in his hand. He quickly looped it, and slid the loop along the length of his penis, up to the point of his shaved pubic hair area – shaved for that very reason. He knew he was about to tie off his organ very tightly at the base to entrap the blood within the shaft. Nothing would be more agonising than to catch a pubic hair in the tie-off.
He pulled the band tightly, looped it around his scrotum and then took some tightened slack, looped it again, and pulled it up from the bottom over to the top of his penis. It snapped onto the existing taut band.
He winced for a moment, knowing it was far from over. As a re-enforcement, he took another band and repeated the same ordeal. He knew pre-stage apprehension would naturally reduce the size of the shaft to its smallest flaccidity, thereby opening him up to humiliating ridicule. Nothing would be worse to him than that. The tie-off would create the illusion of erection size, which, curiously, hung downwards as if flaccid. During performance, the dim party lights rendered the bands and the ‘purple’ colour of the penis virtually unnoticeable.
He hurriedly pulled his g-string and fire-fighter pants back on. He then set up his props within the costume, put on the fire-fighter’s helmet, and grabbed his bag. Finally, he exited the bedroom.
As he approached the top of the stairs, he saw Janine waiting at the bottom. He gave her a nod, and she rushed off to start up the CD.
Logan walked down the stairs and concealed himself behind the living room door. Please don’t take too long. Such eagerness to perform was common for him. The pain of the tie-off was extreme. It felt as though his penis and testicles were being severed every second. His only desire was to get the show out of the way, return to the bedroom, and remove the confounded rubber bands.
The familiar rock guitar intro to Def Leppard’s ‘Let’s Get Rocked’ began. Logan burst into the living room to the accompaniment of jubilant female cheer.
He spotted Stacy, sitting in a chair in the centre of the room. She was a beautiful young woman. He estimated she was, perhaps twenty-five, with short blonde hair, and attired with helium balloons and ‘L’ plates. She lowered her head into her hands, giggling at the sight of him.
***
Janine looked on, her mind consumed with what she’d just done. Was it curiosity? Was it lust? She certainly couldn’t have cared less how big his penis was. Perhaps it was simply because – she could. It troubled her conscience, and she struggled to get past it. How could I have treated another human being like that?
Logan stood before Stacy and reached into the pocket of his fire-fighter jacket. Whatever he drew out apparently enabled him to cause fire to appear from his hands.
He turned to the girls in the room and stroked the flame along the front of the fire-retardant jacket. It became apparent to Janine that he was most definitely a showman.
He proceeded to gyrate around Stacy in a teasing fashion, before turning to the audience to slowly peel off the Velcro-opening of the jacket. Gradually, his smooth pectorals were revealed, followed by his ripped abs, and then . . . a dildo protruding from the waistband of his pants. The room was filled with raucous laughter.
He turned to Stacy, revealing the dildo to her shocked eyes. He stroked it around her face and body, touching even her most intimate areas. It was clear his intention was to shock.
He took a red silk handkerchief from his pocket, draped it over his fist, and pushed it into his hand. With a deft flourish, he opened his fist, one finger at a time. His hand was empty.
Janine looked on, stunned. What the fuck?
He invited Stacy to stand, showed both of his hands empty, reached into her cleavage, and retrieved the red handkerchief from her breasts with his teeth. The crowd cheered.
Janine’s eyes widened in astonishment. What the hell is this guy?
He motioned for Stacy to bend over the chair, and she complied with a giggle. He took a whip from his bag and began to lightly flagellate her bottom.
He’d completely stripped to all but his g-string in a teasing fashion, revealing his hard body to his audience. He cupped Stacy’s hands and poured baby oil into them, motioning for her to rub it in all over his torso and back. Janine noticed it caused his muscularity to glow.
The second music track began. He picked Stacy up in his muscular arms and lowered her onto the floor. Holding her hands over her head with one hand, he slid his tongue along her body until he reached her crotch. He gently licked her vagina through her knickers. Stacy yelped in shock. Her friends screamed with excitement.
Janine closed her eyes with arousal. The anticipation of him doing that to her for real, overcame her.
More screams filled the room as he simulated screwing Stacy in time with the music – a track called ‘Make Love like a Man.’
By the time Janine opened her eyes, Stacy was kneeling, her head under a towel draped around his waist, with her hands handcuffed behind her back. She noticed Logan’s g-string was on the floor, and he was holding a can of squirty cream. My God. He’s got his cock in her face.
Logan pulled away to reveal Stacy’s face covered in squirty-cream, to further rapturous cries of intoxicated hilarity.
He released Stacy from the cuffs and wiped the cream from her face with the hem of his towel.
He then made a spectacle of teasing the audience, bouncing his penis under the towel before whipping it off. He dropped to his knees, and his huge manhood was finally revealed.
The audience gasped and screamed.
Once the hysteria had died down, Logan bundled up his bag, costume and props, and made his way through the chaos to Janine. “Give me five minutes, and then come up,” he said.
***
Logan arrived back in Janine’s bedroom and began to remove the rubber bands. They were already cutting into the base of his penis. He winced as he peeled the taut rubber layers from his tender flesh, one by one.
Deep inside, he was tortured. He tried to process his circumstances. Confident he was handsome and had a fantastic physique, he knew he’d endured phenomenal agony and self-deprivation to achieve it. The process had been relentless, and had continued for many years. And all for what? He wasn’t wealthy. He was lonely. He didn’t even have a girlfriend. After all, what girl would’ve wanted to be emotionally involved with a man who did what he did for a living? And yet doing this had been an erroneous manoeuvre designed to that end.
Every time he worked, he did so primarily in a strange town, in a strange bar, filled with drunken strangers, totally alone. He was aware he was doing it in an insular nation, where the people frowned upon those who made spectacles of themselves – despite them having booked him to do it. There was no way to win. There were times when the circumstances seriously affected him emotionally.
But this time, it wasn’t a bar where there were male audience members present. There was no risk of him being gang-beaten or stabbed. It was a private house where he was the only male involved, and he was about to embark upon an intimate act with a woman. Although the offer was very seldom accepted, it was almost unanimously a cause for conversational novelty. It was England, after all – the nation of false bravado, uncreativity, and Coronation Street. Very few women had the confidence to accept what Janine had.
For him, it was a chance to experience almost-divine contact with a woman, an intimacy so scarcely afforded to him.
As he released the final thread of elastic from his penis, he breathed a sigh of relief. Perspiration poured from his brow from the pain. He used the towel to dry off the baby oil, the dregs of the squirty cream and his own perspiration. He then folded up his costume and tidied up his props. He took his normal clothing from the bottom of the bag and laid them on the bed.
He sat on Janine’s bed and gave himself a couple of minutes to collect himself with the towel draped around his waist.
***
Janine knocked on the bedroom door as the other intoxicated party revellers continued to talk and laugh about what had just transpired below.
Logan opened the door. “Hi,” he said warmly.
“Hi.” She looked downwards with shyness, but stepped into the room. He closed the door and locked it from the inside.
He turned to her. “So, I can pleasure you either by manual stimulation, or I can go down on you.”
She looked up at him longingly, not knowing what to say.
“So, what would you prefer?” he said gently. “Oral? Or manual?”
She gave herself a moment before responding. “C-can I have oral please?”
“Of course.”
Kneeling before her, he unbuttoned her jeans. “Would you kick your shoes off please, Ma’am?”
Janine did so, her mind reeling with emotions. Once she’d removed her shoes, he gently pulled down her jeans and she slid her feet out of them.
Her opaque, pink, silk panties revealed a faint hint of trimmed pubic hair. He peeled them down, keeping his gaze on hers at all times. When he’d pulled them down, she stepped out of them.
“Where would you like me to do it, Ma’am?”
She looked around. “If I sit in my chair, could you do it for me there?”
“Sure.”
She sat down in the chair and parted her thighs.
Logan knelt down before her and began to caress her inner thighs with his lips.
Janine moaned as the erotic sensation caused her to relax into the moment. He worked up to her vagina and licked the surrounding flesh between her right leg and the opening of her labia, teasingly. He worked his way up to kiss the trimmed pubic hair above her clitoris without making direct contact with her most sensitive morsel.
“Hi, ladies,” he said. “I’m Logan.”
Oh, my God. He is American, after all.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m Janine, and this is Vickie.”
Logan walked over and kissed Janine and Vickie each on the cheek. He was clearly a man who knew how to charm a lady. Janine couldn’t fail but to notice how gorgeous he smelled.
“This is for you.” Janine handed him the eighty pounds in cash.
“Thank you.”
“We have a room for you to get yourself set up, but we must creep up there quietly, otherwise Stacy will know you’re here.”
“Of course,” he said. “You just lead the way.”
God, that accent.
Janine and Vickie led him back around the side of the opulent house and into the kitchen. From there, they hurried him along the kitchen wall, out of view into the hallway to the awaiting stairwell. They crept upstairs and along the landing into Janine’s bedroom.
As they arrived, Vickie froze. She whispered into Janine’s ear, “I’ll leave you two to discuss . . . you know.”
Janine breathed a sigh of relief. There was to be no argument or dilemma now. Her fantasy was going to come true. She was to be the one.
Logan stepped into Janine’s bedroom. “A beautiful house you have, Ma’am,” he said.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll need about twenny minutes to prepare, so let’s synchronize watches. What time do you make it?”
“Ten-thirty-five.”
“Me to. I should be ready by ten-fifty-five, which is when I’ll be coming down.” He reached into his bag, produced a CD, and handed it to her. “Ma’am, I need you to get the CD ready to play this. Have Stacy sat in a chair in the middle of the room in twenny minutes. Play the music on the CD at full blast, and that’s when I’ll come in and let loose on her, OK?”
“OK.” Ask him. Ask him. “Um . . . Logan?”
“Yeah?”
“W-when I booked you, the lady I spoke to told me that there were . . . other things . . . that you do . . . I mean . . . after the show.”
Logan responded with great ease and confidence. “Sure. Do you have anyone in mind?”
“Well, yes.” She gazed longingly at him, slightly embarrassed, but the word fell from her lips. “Me.”
Logan’s eyes lit up. “Well, Ma’am, I would consider it an honour.”
How can he be so casual about something like that? His approach put her at ease. Enough for her to ask him a question she considered to be rather harsh and cruel. “There’s also something else I would like to ask.”
“Sure,” he said in the same easy-going tone.
“We’ve had strippers before who aren’t very . . . you know . . . well-endowed. I was told I could have a look at yours before you went downstairs.”
“Sure, OK. Just do me one favour.”
“Yes?”
“I told you it was going to take me twenny minutes to prepare, yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Well, look at your watch again and give me ten minutes. Just knock on that door, and I’ll let you have a look.”
“OK.”
“Would you like to see it erect or not?”
Janine blushed. “C-can I see it both ways?”
“Sure, but I might need your help if you want to see it erect quickly.”
Janine decided she couldn’t take any more. “I’ll see you in ten minutes.” She made her way out of the bedroom, grinning with embarrassment, yet impressed with herself for having the courage to ask him such questions. She closed the door and headed for the stairs.
***
Logan hurriedly dropped the pants off his fire-fighter uniform, grabbed a pornographic magazine out of his sports bag, and began to masturbate. He contemplated Janine’s words. It was extremely rare for a customer to accept the offer. On the occasions they did so, it was usually a fairly disgusting-looking, obese woman on a council estate. He was duty-bound to perform such an intimate act upon them, but it often caused him to gag.
However, Janine was an attractive, classy woman whose diction demonstrated quality. Her perfectly-groomed, shoulder-length, light brown hair and slender-yet-curvaceous body indicated she looked after herself. She wore just enough make-up to enhance her looks without looking cheap. He couldn’t deny he was enamoured by her.
Once he was in full erection, he reached into the bag and drew out a penis vacuum pump. After lubricating the shaft of his penis with baby oil, he slid it into the pump. With a few squeezes of the bulb, his member swelled within the flask as the vacuum caused it to completely fill the cylinder.
He looked at his watch and timed the inflation for two minutes. He then released the pressure for thirty seconds, after which, he inflated it again for another two minutes. As the slender arm of his watch touched the ‘12’, the second two minutes expired.
The expected knock on the door came. He quickly removed his manhood from the pump, carefully concealing it in his sports bag.
He stood up, naked from the waist down. His penis hung long and thick between his thighs. He walked across to the door and opened it inwards, concealing himself.
Janine stepped in. He closed the door behind him and turned to face her.
She looked him in the eye for a second, and then lowered her gaze to his groin. “You are a big boy, aren’t you?”
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
“How big does it get when you’re excited?”
“Well, I always get a little nervous before a gig, and it’s not always easy for me to get it up. Do you think you could help me there?”
“What do I have to do?”
“Well, you know,” he said awkwardly. “Would you . . . play with it?”
“Oh, I see. I don’t know. I mean . . . you want me to touch you there?”
“Yes.”
She reached out slowly and took hold of his manhood. It felt wonderful as she moved the foreskin back and forth, gently causing his respiration to increase. His penis began to swell, and she increased her pace upon him. Quickly, he became fully erect.
She moved closer as she stimulated him, and drew her lips to his. They kissed deeply and tenderly. Logan embraced her in what had become a sincere moment of intimacy.
She pulled away and stood back to behold the size of his erect penis, jutting out towards her. “Thank you, Logan. That’ll be fine.” She turned away and left the room.
He was extremely aroused since he knew what he’d be doing after his performance. He seized the moment, reached into his bag, and grabbed the bottle of lubricant to oil the base of his erection.
He then opened a side pocket in the bag and drew out a small polythene bag, filled with rubber bands. Taking a handful out, he dropped them onto Janine’s bed, retaining one in his hand. He quickly looped it, and slid the loop along the length of his penis, up to the point of his shaved pubic hair area – shaved for that very reason. He knew he was about to tie off his organ very tightly at the base to entrap the blood within the shaft. Nothing would be more agonising than to catch a pubic hair in the tie-off.
He pulled the band tightly, looped it around his scrotum and then took some tightened slack, looped it again, and pulled it up from the bottom over to the top of his penis. It snapped onto the existing taut band.
He winced for a moment, knowing it was far from over. As a re-enforcement, he took another band and repeated the same ordeal. He knew pre-stage apprehension would naturally reduce the size of the shaft to its smallest flaccidity, thereby opening him up to humiliating ridicule. Nothing would be worse to him than that. The tie-off would create the illusion of erection size, which, curiously, hung downwards as if flaccid. During performance, the dim party lights rendered the bands and the ‘purple’ colour of the penis virtually unnoticeable.
He hurriedly pulled his g-string and fire-fighter pants back on. He then set up his props within the costume, put on the fire-fighter’s helmet, and grabbed his bag. Finally, he exited the bedroom.
As he approached the top of the stairs, he saw Janine waiting at the bottom. He gave her a nod, and she rushed off to start up the CD.
Logan walked down the stairs and concealed himself behind the living room door. Please don’t take too long. Such eagerness to perform was common for him. The pain of the tie-off was extreme. It felt as though his penis and testicles were being severed every second. His only desire was to get the show out of the way, return to the bedroom, and remove the confounded rubber bands.
The familiar rock guitar intro to Def Leppard’s ‘Let’s Get Rocked’ began. Logan burst into the living room to the accompaniment of jubilant female cheer.
He spotted Stacy, sitting in a chair in the centre of the room. She was a beautiful young woman. He estimated she was, perhaps twenty-five, with short blonde hair, and attired with helium balloons and ‘L’ plates. She lowered her head into her hands, giggling at the sight of him.
***
Janine looked on, her mind consumed with what she’d just done. Was it curiosity? Was it lust? She certainly couldn’t have cared less how big his penis was. Perhaps it was simply because – she could. It troubled her conscience, and she struggled to get past it. How could I have treated another human being like that?
Logan stood before Stacy and reached into the pocket of his fire-fighter jacket. Whatever he drew out apparently enabled him to cause fire to appear from his hands.
He turned to the girls in the room and stroked the flame along the front of the fire-retardant jacket. It became apparent to Janine that he was most definitely a showman.
He proceeded to gyrate around Stacy in a teasing fashion, before turning to the audience to slowly peel off the Velcro-opening of the jacket. Gradually, his smooth pectorals were revealed, followed by his ripped abs, and then . . . a dildo protruding from the waistband of his pants. The room was filled with raucous laughter.
He turned to Stacy, revealing the dildo to her shocked eyes. He stroked it around her face and body, touching even her most intimate areas. It was clear his intention was to shock.
He took a red silk handkerchief from his pocket, draped it over his fist, and pushed it into his hand. With a deft flourish, he opened his fist, one finger at a time. His hand was empty.
Janine looked on, stunned. What the fuck?
He invited Stacy to stand, showed both of his hands empty, reached into her cleavage, and retrieved the red handkerchief from her breasts with his teeth. The crowd cheered.
Janine’s eyes widened in astonishment. What the hell is this guy?
He motioned for Stacy to bend over the chair, and she complied with a giggle. He took a whip from his bag and began to lightly flagellate her bottom.
He’d completely stripped to all but his g-string in a teasing fashion, revealing his hard body to his audience. He cupped Stacy’s hands and poured baby oil into them, motioning for her to rub it in all over his torso and back. Janine noticed it caused his muscularity to glow.
The second music track began. He picked Stacy up in his muscular arms and lowered her onto the floor. Holding her hands over her head with one hand, he slid his tongue along her body until he reached her crotch. He gently licked her vagina through her knickers. Stacy yelped in shock. Her friends screamed with excitement.
Janine closed her eyes with arousal. The anticipation of him doing that to her for real, overcame her.
More screams filled the room as he simulated screwing Stacy in time with the music – a track called ‘Make Love like a Man.’
By the time Janine opened her eyes, Stacy was kneeling, her head under a towel draped around his waist, with her hands handcuffed behind her back. She noticed Logan’s g-string was on the floor, and he was holding a can of squirty cream. My God. He’s got his cock in her face.
Logan pulled away to reveal Stacy’s face covered in squirty-cream, to further rapturous cries of intoxicated hilarity.
He released Stacy from the cuffs and wiped the cream from her face with the hem of his towel.
He then made a spectacle of teasing the audience, bouncing his penis under the towel before whipping it off. He dropped to his knees, and his huge manhood was finally revealed.
The audience gasped and screamed.
Once the hysteria had died down, Logan bundled up his bag, costume and props, and made his way through the chaos to Janine. “Give me five minutes, and then come up,” he said.
***
Logan arrived back in Janine’s bedroom and began to remove the rubber bands. They were already cutting into the base of his penis. He winced as he peeled the taut rubber layers from his tender flesh, one by one.
Deep inside, he was tortured. He tried to process his circumstances. Confident he was handsome and had a fantastic physique, he knew he’d endured phenomenal agony and self-deprivation to achieve it. The process had been relentless, and had continued for many years. And all for what? He wasn’t wealthy. He was lonely. He didn’t even have a girlfriend. After all, what girl would’ve wanted to be emotionally involved with a man who did what he did for a living? And yet doing this had been an erroneous manoeuvre designed to that end.
Every time he worked, he did so primarily in a strange town, in a strange bar, filled with drunken strangers, totally alone. He was aware he was doing it in an insular nation, where the people frowned upon those who made spectacles of themselves – despite them having booked him to do it. There was no way to win. There were times when the circumstances seriously affected him emotionally.
But this time, it wasn’t a bar where there were male audience members present. There was no risk of him being gang-beaten or stabbed. It was a private house where he was the only male involved, and he was about to embark upon an intimate act with a woman. Although the offer was very seldom accepted, it was almost unanimously a cause for conversational novelty. It was England, after all – the nation of false bravado, uncreativity, and Coronation Street. Very few women had the confidence to accept what Janine had.
For him, it was a chance to experience almost-divine contact with a woman, an intimacy so scarcely afforded to him.
As he released the final thread of elastic from his penis, he breathed a sigh of relief. Perspiration poured from his brow from the pain. He used the towel to dry off the baby oil, the dregs of the squirty cream and his own perspiration. He then folded up his costume and tidied up his props. He took his normal clothing from the bottom of the bag and laid them on the bed.
He sat on Janine’s bed and gave himself a couple of minutes to collect himself with the towel draped around his waist.
***
Janine knocked on the bedroom door as the other intoxicated party revellers continued to talk and laugh about what had just transpired below.
Logan opened the door. “Hi,” he said warmly.
“Hi.” She looked downwards with shyness, but stepped into the room. He closed the door and locked it from the inside.
He turned to her. “So, I can pleasure you either by manual stimulation, or I can go down on you.”
She looked up at him longingly, not knowing what to say.
“So, what would you prefer?” he said gently. “Oral? Or manual?”
She gave herself a moment before responding. “C-can I have oral please?”
“Of course.”
Kneeling before her, he unbuttoned her jeans. “Would you kick your shoes off please, Ma’am?”
Janine did so, her mind reeling with emotions. Once she’d removed her shoes, he gently pulled down her jeans and she slid her feet out of them.
Her opaque, pink, silk panties revealed a faint hint of trimmed pubic hair. He peeled them down, keeping his gaze on hers at all times. When he’d pulled them down, she stepped out of them.
“Where would you like me to do it, Ma’am?”
She looked around. “If I sit in my chair, could you do it for me there?”
“Sure.”
She sat down in the chair and parted her thighs.
Logan knelt down before her and began to caress her inner thighs with his lips.
Janine moaned as the erotic sensation caused her to relax into the moment. He worked up to her vagina and licked the surrounding flesh between her right leg and the opening of her labia, teasingly. He worked his way up to kiss the trimmed pubic hair above her clitoris without making direct contact with her most sensitive morsel.
Moving down to her left thigh, he repeated the tantalising manoeuvre up to the flesh between her left thigh and her labia. Janine cried inwardly with frustrated arousal.
He took his mouth away, stroked her inner thighs with his fingers, and spoke. “Ma’am? Janine?”
“Yes.”
“I could get fired for even asking this, and you don’t have to say yes. But . . . I get really turned on when I do this, and I was just wondering If . . . I mean . . . I know that this is supposed to be purely for your pleasure and not mine, but . . .”
“What?”
“Would it be OK with you if . . . I mean if the pressure gets really unbearable for me . . . may I . . . ?”
“What?”
“Masturbate.”
He seemed genuinely nervous as he asked the question. She felt a stab of almost-maternal sympathy go through her. She realised how difficult it must have been for him, if her own level of arousal was anything to go by.
However, a devilish side to her personality suddenly surfaced. She had other plans for him. “To be honest, you’re right. It is supposed to be about my pleasure. I’ve paid for this, and I would rather you didn’t.”
“Y-yes, Ma’am. I am so sorry. You won’t tell the agency, will you?”
Oh, my God. He’s so adorable.
“Let me know when you feel like you’re going to come so that I don’t lose momentum at the crucial point.”
“OK.” She felt the unmistakable pleasure of his tongue probing her labia.
For long minutes, he licked around the inside of her orifice and outer lips and built his way up to her clitoris.
He placed the flat of his tongue against it and began to lick, slowly at first, and gradually gained speed. A gasp of delight emerged from her. That poor boy. He must be as hard as rock between his legs.
She moaned uncontrollably and rolled her head in response to the unbearable pleasure.
He inserted one, and then two fingers inside her warm, lubricated entrance and hooked them upwards. He caressed her G-spot in unison with the oral attention he was paying to her clitoris. She’d never experienced such a delightful combination of pleasures. She cried out with ecstasy, and placed her hand onto the back of his head. “Oh, God, oh, God, oh God. Please don’t stop, please don’t stop.”
He’d been pleasuring her for over five minutes. He shifted her clitoral stimulation from the flat of his tongue to the tip and flicked at her with gentle rapidity. He simultaneously increased her G-spot stimulation with his fingers.
Janine cried as though her very soul was coming out through her throat. The other guests were downstairs, drunk, and in the vicinity of loud music. She was confident her privacy was secure.
After another two minutes, she could hold out no longer. “I’m coming. I’m coming.”
Logan licked in earnest as she cried out in harmony with her muscular contractions, lost in the paradise of her climax.
She felt him sucking her juices, gradually slowing down with his mouth and fingers as her spasm abated.
Finally, he ceased. She sat back in her chair, utterly slaked.
Tears rolled down her cheeks. The delight had aroused a profound sense of emotion within her. In that moment, she knew she had just fallen in love with him. “Stand up for me please, Logan.”
He stood, revealing his towel, tent-poking out before him. She took it from his waist and it fell to the carpet, leaving her face-to-face with his rampant erection. The purple head was covered with pre-ejaculatory fluid. His arousal and need for release was clear.
She crawled out of her chair, fell to her knees, and took him between her lips.
Logan gasped.
She slid her mouth along his erection and drew back again before resuming. She gradually built up speed, piston-like along the length of his long, thick tumescence.
***
He couldn’t believe what was happening. He’d been masturbated before by women whom he’d pleasured. Most of them wanted nothing more than for him to screw them senseless. However, that was a health danger he’d agreed not to entertain.
But no woman had ever sucked him like Janine. When she’d asked him not to masturbate, he’d genuinely believed she was offended by his request. It was clear her intention was to save it for her mouth.
He groaned with delight as she continued her euphoric treatment. “Y-you don’t have to do this, Ma’am.”
She took his penis out of her mouth for a moment. “Shut up, Logan,” she said, and resumed. She sucked and groaned simultaneously, giving him all she had.
He couldn’t resist but to sway his hips, forcing his penis in and out of her mouth in unison with her sucking. The sensitive underside of his organ delightfully slid across her hungry tongue. She licked around the head of his penis and flicked the tip of her tongue underneath upon his highly sensitive fraenulum. He was losing his reason with desire as she teased him.
Finally, she threw her mouth onto his burning desire again. He swayed in and out of her mouth and finally, he felt the unmistakable spasm of orgasm swell within his loins. “Oh, Janine. Oh, you are an angel.”
He reached its point of no return and cried out as his passion emerged into her waiting mouth. Spurt after spurt of his hot semen shot into Janine’s throat. She swallowed every drop, and slowly reduced her speed in accordance with his post-orgasmic sensitivity.
As his erection began to wilt, she withdrew her mouth and looked up at him.
Logan knelt down and wrapped his arms around her, tenderly. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“Logan? Do you have a girlfriend?” she said.
“No, I don’t.”
“How come?”
“I guess, because of what I do.”
“Would you like to have one?”
“More than anything in the world.”
“If you want me, I will be your girlfriend.”
“What?”
“I . . . I know my feelings right now don’t make for rational decisions. But I want you so badly. It’s worth the risk to me. It’s not about your looks or physical attributes. There’s a gentle sensitivity about you that I’ve been searching for over a very long time.”
He broke the embrace and looked into her eyes. “Are you serious?”
“I want to see you tomorrow night, and the next, and the next, and every night that I can see you. I want to know you, Logan.”
He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. He wanted her too. Her words gave him permission to want her. He knew the road ahead would be difficult for them both, but she could spare him the loneliness. She was so very beautiful. It couldn’t be real. There was someone with whom he could share his existence. Someone he could love, and who could love him. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, yes, yes, yes!”
He wept on her shoulder, and gave her his ultimate professional secret. It was a complicated story beginning with, “My name isn’t really Logan.”
***
They exchanged phone numbers and arranged for him to come to her the following evening. He collected his belongings and tenderly kissed her.
She watched as he drove away into the night.
Vickie came up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. “Well?”
Janine smiled. “Well, what?”
“How was it?
“You won’t believe it, but . . . He was amazing, and I’m seeing him tomorrow.”
“No way.”
“Yes, way. We’re an item, and I just can’t believe it.”
“But you’ve only just met him.”
Janine turned to her with euphoria in her heart. “And not a minute too soon.”
He took his mouth away, stroked her inner thighs with his fingers, and spoke. “Ma’am? Janine?”
“Yes.”
“I could get fired for even asking this, and you don’t have to say yes. But . . . I get really turned on when I do this, and I was just wondering If . . . I mean . . . I know that this is supposed to be purely for your pleasure and not mine, but . . .”
“What?”
“Would it be OK with you if . . . I mean if the pressure gets really unbearable for me . . . may I . . . ?”
“What?”
“Masturbate.”
He seemed genuinely nervous as he asked the question. She felt a stab of almost-maternal sympathy go through her. She realised how difficult it must have been for him, if her own level of arousal was anything to go by.
However, a devilish side to her personality suddenly surfaced. She had other plans for him. “To be honest, you’re right. It is supposed to be about my pleasure. I’ve paid for this, and I would rather you didn’t.”
“Y-yes, Ma’am. I am so sorry. You won’t tell the agency, will you?”
Oh, my God. He’s so adorable.
“Let me know when you feel like you’re going to come so that I don’t lose momentum at the crucial point.”
“OK.” She felt the unmistakable pleasure of his tongue probing her labia.
For long minutes, he licked around the inside of her orifice and outer lips and built his way up to her clitoris.
He placed the flat of his tongue against it and began to lick, slowly at first, and gradually gained speed. A gasp of delight emerged from her. That poor boy. He must be as hard as rock between his legs.
She moaned uncontrollably and rolled her head in response to the unbearable pleasure.
He inserted one, and then two fingers inside her warm, lubricated entrance and hooked them upwards. He caressed her G-spot in unison with the oral attention he was paying to her clitoris. She’d never experienced such a delightful combination of pleasures. She cried out with ecstasy, and placed her hand onto the back of his head. “Oh, God, oh, God, oh God. Please don’t stop, please don’t stop.”
He’d been pleasuring her for over five minutes. He shifted her clitoral stimulation from the flat of his tongue to the tip and flicked at her with gentle rapidity. He simultaneously increased her G-spot stimulation with his fingers.
Janine cried as though her very soul was coming out through her throat. The other guests were downstairs, drunk, and in the vicinity of loud music. She was confident her privacy was secure.
After another two minutes, she could hold out no longer. “I’m coming. I’m coming.”
Logan licked in earnest as she cried out in harmony with her muscular contractions, lost in the paradise of her climax.
She felt him sucking her juices, gradually slowing down with his mouth and fingers as her spasm abated.
Finally, he ceased. She sat back in her chair, utterly slaked.
Tears rolled down her cheeks. The delight had aroused a profound sense of emotion within her. In that moment, she knew she had just fallen in love with him. “Stand up for me please, Logan.”
He stood, revealing his towel, tent-poking out before him. She took it from his waist and it fell to the carpet, leaving her face-to-face with his rampant erection. The purple head was covered with pre-ejaculatory fluid. His arousal and need for release was clear.
She crawled out of her chair, fell to her knees, and took him between her lips.
Logan gasped.
She slid her mouth along his erection and drew back again before resuming. She gradually built up speed, piston-like along the length of his long, thick tumescence.
***
He couldn’t believe what was happening. He’d been masturbated before by women whom he’d pleasured. Most of them wanted nothing more than for him to screw them senseless. However, that was a health danger he’d agreed not to entertain.
But no woman had ever sucked him like Janine. When she’d asked him not to masturbate, he’d genuinely believed she was offended by his request. It was clear her intention was to save it for her mouth.
He groaned with delight as she continued her euphoric treatment. “Y-you don’t have to do this, Ma’am.”
She took his penis out of her mouth for a moment. “Shut up, Logan,” she said, and resumed. She sucked and groaned simultaneously, giving him all she had.
He couldn’t resist but to sway his hips, forcing his penis in and out of her mouth in unison with her sucking. The sensitive underside of his organ delightfully slid across her hungry tongue. She licked around the head of his penis and flicked the tip of her tongue underneath upon his highly sensitive fraenulum. He was losing his reason with desire as she teased him.
Finally, she threw her mouth onto his burning desire again. He swayed in and out of her mouth and finally, he felt the unmistakable spasm of orgasm swell within his loins. “Oh, Janine. Oh, you are an angel.”
He reached its point of no return and cried out as his passion emerged into her waiting mouth. Spurt after spurt of his hot semen shot into Janine’s throat. She swallowed every drop, and slowly reduced her speed in accordance with his post-orgasmic sensitivity.
As his erection began to wilt, she withdrew her mouth and looked up at him.
Logan knelt down and wrapped his arms around her, tenderly. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“Logan? Do you have a girlfriend?” she said.
“No, I don’t.”
“How come?”
“I guess, because of what I do.”
“Would you like to have one?”
“More than anything in the world.”
“If you want me, I will be your girlfriend.”
“What?”
“I . . . I know my feelings right now don’t make for rational decisions. But I want you so badly. It’s worth the risk to me. It’s not about your looks or physical attributes. There’s a gentle sensitivity about you that I’ve been searching for over a very long time.”
He broke the embrace and looked into her eyes. “Are you serious?”
“I want to see you tomorrow night, and the next, and the next, and every night that I can see you. I want to know you, Logan.”
He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. He wanted her too. Her words gave him permission to want her. He knew the road ahead would be difficult for them both, but she could spare him the loneliness. She was so very beautiful. It couldn’t be real. There was someone with whom he could share his existence. Someone he could love, and who could love him. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, yes, yes, yes!”
He wept on her shoulder, and gave her his ultimate professional secret. It was a complicated story beginning with, “My name isn’t really Logan.”
***
They exchanged phone numbers and arranged for him to come to her the following evening. He collected his belongings and tenderly kissed her.
She watched as he drove away into the night.
Vickie came up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. “Well?”
Janine smiled. “Well, what?”
“How was it?
“You won’t believe it, but . . . He was amazing, and I’m seeing him tomorrow.”
“No way.”
“Yes, way. We’re an item, and I just can’t believe it.”
“But you’ve only just met him.”
Janine turned to her with euphoria in her heart. “And not a minute too soon.”
Afterword
Many make the ‘true story’ claim. However, the only elements I have altered in Not a Minute Too Soon are the names of the characters, for obvious reasons.
Strippers are a type of entertainer to whom we give very little thought. Male strippers perform often at organised ladies nights. They supplement their income frequently by performing at private parties, commonly referred to as grams. Organised ladies nights are generally controlled, and offer a fairly safe environment. Grams, by their very nature, offer great, potential hazards.
We might be enjoying a drink in a bar when a stripper walks in and begins to perform on some unsuspecting victim on the adjoining table. It’s all been arranged by cruel, but well-meaning friends and relatives. However, even though we might not be involved with that particular party, we can’t resist but to watch, can we? Sometimes we even stand on our own table to gain access to a better view.
‘Logan’, my partner, was a male stripper for eleven years, three months and six days. How do we know to the day how long he was doing this? Ask any prisoner how long he’d served, and he will tell you with the same, precise accuracy.
We were tempted to reveal his true identity in this narrative. It’s not by our choice that he needs to remain anonymous. He is now a highly-skilled, well-respected member of another genre within the entertainment world. The pioneers of that genre would not take kindly to learning of his past life (although I would dearly love to examine their DVD collections.)
That aside, my testimony of the events (which occurred twenty months prior to the original composition of this entry) is corroborated by Logan’s words regarding the experiences of male strippers.
I feel the world should be aware that being a stripper is not all fun and games. As I tried to convey in the story, strippers are often very tortured individuals, both emotionally and physically. I deliberately gave a detailed illustration of what ‘tying off’ means for a reason. It is a social responsibility to know what some human beings endure in order to provide entertainment.
I feel that the offer of free cunnilingus to any woman who chooses to take advantage of it is somewhat extreme. It demonstrates the desperation many strippers go through in order to earn money. In Logan’s case, his agreeing to entertain such an outrageous proposal was exacerbated by his desire to share a moment of intimacy with a woman, which was very rarely afforded to him. It’s ironic that the reason most women would be averse to dating a male stripper is because they believe he must be screwing different women every night. As a result of that belief, male strippers rarely do anything of the kind, and loneliness can often be the result.
Strippers, for the most part, are looked down upon by our culture – by the very hypocritical society that books them. Male strippers are often jeered at, insulted, verbally abused by women, and sometimes physically assaulted by drunken, jealous men. It is a vocation that demands extreme physical torture in gymnasium training, dietary deprivation, and the aforementioned penis preparation.
Individual strippers are never re-booked for a private party gram by the same audience. Once they’ve been seen, the audience wants somebody different next time. Curiously, private party strippers are the only form of variety entertainment where the ‘no-re-booking rule’ is an absolute. Where, therein, might a stripper, who works purely through a kissogram agency, find any cause or inspiration to apply such effort or pride in his or her appearance?
Most people make efforts in their work in lieu of a possible promotion. But for a stripogram, no such incentive exists. It is for this reason that so many private party strippers are puny-looking weaklings, middle-aged men with the pot-belly, or personnel who have no performance skill. The reason is – us. We give them no reason to give us what we want from them. Logan was also a stage performer, therefore he had more of a vested interest in applying himself.
For the most part today, female strippers enjoy the security of lap-dancing clubs, where they are protected by security personnel. (Grams still present serious dangers for them, regardless of accompaniment.)
Male strippers are often alone and on the road. They risk their very lives for the frivolous, titillating entertainment of the general public. It is for this reason, above all, that not only should we not disrespect them, but we should, in fact, honour them. After all, they do what they do – for our entertainment.
Tanya Simmonds
Strippers are a type of entertainer to whom we give very little thought. Male strippers perform often at organised ladies nights. They supplement their income frequently by performing at private parties, commonly referred to as grams. Organised ladies nights are generally controlled, and offer a fairly safe environment. Grams, by their very nature, offer great, potential hazards.
We might be enjoying a drink in a bar when a stripper walks in and begins to perform on some unsuspecting victim on the adjoining table. It’s all been arranged by cruel, but well-meaning friends and relatives. However, even though we might not be involved with that particular party, we can’t resist but to watch, can we? Sometimes we even stand on our own table to gain access to a better view.
‘Logan’, my partner, was a male stripper for eleven years, three months and six days. How do we know to the day how long he was doing this? Ask any prisoner how long he’d served, and he will tell you with the same, precise accuracy.
We were tempted to reveal his true identity in this narrative. It’s not by our choice that he needs to remain anonymous. He is now a highly-skilled, well-respected member of another genre within the entertainment world. The pioneers of that genre would not take kindly to learning of his past life (although I would dearly love to examine their DVD collections.)
That aside, my testimony of the events (which occurred twenty months prior to the original composition of this entry) is corroborated by Logan’s words regarding the experiences of male strippers.
I feel the world should be aware that being a stripper is not all fun and games. As I tried to convey in the story, strippers are often very tortured individuals, both emotionally and physically. I deliberately gave a detailed illustration of what ‘tying off’ means for a reason. It is a social responsibility to know what some human beings endure in order to provide entertainment.
I feel that the offer of free cunnilingus to any woman who chooses to take advantage of it is somewhat extreme. It demonstrates the desperation many strippers go through in order to earn money. In Logan’s case, his agreeing to entertain such an outrageous proposal was exacerbated by his desire to share a moment of intimacy with a woman, which was very rarely afforded to him. It’s ironic that the reason most women would be averse to dating a male stripper is because they believe he must be screwing different women every night. As a result of that belief, male strippers rarely do anything of the kind, and loneliness can often be the result.
Strippers, for the most part, are looked down upon by our culture – by the very hypocritical society that books them. Male strippers are often jeered at, insulted, verbally abused by women, and sometimes physically assaulted by drunken, jealous men. It is a vocation that demands extreme physical torture in gymnasium training, dietary deprivation, and the aforementioned penis preparation.
Individual strippers are never re-booked for a private party gram by the same audience. Once they’ve been seen, the audience wants somebody different next time. Curiously, private party strippers are the only form of variety entertainment where the ‘no-re-booking rule’ is an absolute. Where, therein, might a stripper, who works purely through a kissogram agency, find any cause or inspiration to apply such effort or pride in his or her appearance?
Most people make efforts in their work in lieu of a possible promotion. But for a stripogram, no such incentive exists. It is for this reason that so many private party strippers are puny-looking weaklings, middle-aged men with the pot-belly, or personnel who have no performance skill. The reason is – us. We give them no reason to give us what we want from them. Logan was also a stage performer, therefore he had more of a vested interest in applying himself.
For the most part today, female strippers enjoy the security of lap-dancing clubs, where they are protected by security personnel. (Grams still present serious dangers for them, regardless of accompaniment.)
Male strippers are often alone and on the road. They risk their very lives for the frivolous, titillating entertainment of the general public. It is for this reason, above all, that not only should we not disrespect them, but we should, in fact, honour them. After all, they do what they do – for our entertainment.
Tanya Simmonds