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Jolly1
07-15-2006, 01:11 PM
Man Dance,

by Rajah Dodger <rdodger@hotmail.com>, Copyright (c)
1989. Originally
written under the pseudonym "Major Havoc". All rights reserved, except that
electronic not-for-profit reproduction rights only are explicitly granted
with the stipulation that this authorship and permission note must remain
attached.



It had seemed like a great idea at the time. Why hit the bars, blowing
money in each one until he found a girl who was in the mood, when there was
one place sure to be stocked with horny women? If he had known what he would
experience...



He got to the male strippers club shortly before closing time, set his
two-door in the lot not far from the front door, and got out to lean against
the car and wait. He wore his best silk shirt and a pair of skin-tight
leather slacks. A faintly menacing smile played across his lips as he
waited.



Sure enough, the doors opened and a stream of women came out, talking,
laughing, and giggling, in twos and threes and larger groups. Some passed by
him without a glance, others stopped briefly admiring his car, or tossed a
lewd comment as they went by. "New in town, sailor?" "Is that sausage for
display or for sale?" That last comment hit home -- most of the women coming
out of the club were well-built, and the tightness of his crotch was
starting to hurt.



Just as he was about to give up the idea, three women stopped to talk.
"Hey, guy," said a strawberry blonde in a blousy sweater, "waiting for
somebody to get off work, or would you be interested in a private show?"
This was what he had been waiting for! "Well, I might be interested... where
would the show be?"



The blonde went back to her friends, a tall redhead and a petite one.
The tall one was wearing a mannish suit, while the smaller one was in a
peasant blouse and skirt. He hoped they would decide quickly -- he had
definite plans for all of them. Soon enough the blonde returned. "It's too
complicated to give you directions, so we decided I should ride in the car
with you and follow my friends. I'm Ginny. Shall we go?"



He grinned, executed a formal bow, and opened the car door for her,
then got in and started following her friends. "Have you been at the club
long?" she asked. "Not very," he replied, thinking, "this is great -- they
really think I'm an off-duty dancer!" He turned toward her to continue the
conversation, and saw her squeezing her breasts through her sweater. "Don't
lose control, friend, I'm just keeping the fires burning here. I hope you
can ... follow the warmup act!" The thought reminded him of his cock,
swollen and constricted in his pants. He winked at her, suppressed a groan,
and continued to follow the other car.



They arrived at a nondescript suburban house. The shorter redhead got
out of the lead car and opened the garage, where they parked both cars. He
followed them in through the kitchen to the living room. The tall redhead,
who introduced herself as Sandy, fixed drinks all around while her shorter
counterpart, Meg, busied herself arranging the furniture. Ginny put some
music on the stereo, and announced, "All right, ladies, the warmup show will
now begin. You know the rules!" -- and with that, grabbed him by the arm and
started close dancing with him. She was a good dancer, too; they did a
two-step followed by a salsa move that could have been on Bandstand -- or
Dirty Dancing. Just as they started to move into a vertical bop, Sandy cut
in. While not as good a dancer as Ginny, she could definitely swing her
body, and with her jacket off he could tell there was a good body there to
swing. Sandy was quickly replaced by Meg, and the height difference became a
turn-on as her breasts rubbed across his belly, too close to his crotch for
comfort and yet too far for satisfaction...



The music came to an end, and Ginny said, "We have an outfit we'd like
to see you in, if it's okay." At this point, he would have been glad to
dance naked. "If you'd follow me back here, I'll show you what we have." She
led him into a stark room with bare walls, a low bench, a bed and a closet.
On the bed was a tux cutaway jacket, tux shirt, black slacks with a matching
set of suspenders, and something that looked like bikini briefs, but with
string ties on each side of the waist. She left while he stripped and put on
the outfit. The "briefs" were just a thin piece of silky material in an
hourglass shape, with barely enough elastic in the border to hold his cock
without it spilling out. There was also a pair of thin black slippers, which
he put on without socks. When he went back into the living room, the lights
were down except for two ceiling spots aimed at the center of the room. He
started "strutting his stuff", doing moves he remembered seeing at the
ballet and some from TV -- the music was fast rock, and he spun and twisted
as he got into the mood.



With the lights trained on him, he couldn't really see the girls just
outside his area, but they cheered him on as he removed, twirled and tossed
the tux jacket. The music turned to Pink Floyd, Yes and King Crimson as he
attempted to keep up the pace he had set. Those hours at the health club
were paying off now, and he wanted to keep his audience happy. He undid one
button of the shirt at a time, finally removing it completely to loud
applause and whistles, and swinging it at arms length, feeling it brush
against each member of his audience until he let it go. A voice (Ginny's, he
thought) said "All right, now, let's really get to it!"



He did poses, ballet leaps, kicks and turns for a short while, but knew
these women wanted more. He started doing the twist in one spot, pulled the
zipper down, and shimmied as the pants snaked their way down his legs to the
floor. The voices in the shadows liked that move! He stepped out of the
slacks and flipped them away with one foot. He thought as he did so that he
felt something scrape at his ankle, but still couldn't see clearly beyond
his circle of light.



Now down to briefs and slippers, he bumped and ground as the music
slowed down -- the Beatles' "Revolution", Clapton's original version of
"After Midnight", Rod Stewart's "Tonight's the Night". He did a spin kick
and felt someone grab the slipper off his foot. A split, and as he got up a
hand reached in and got the other slipper. Then an arm (had to be Meg)
reached in and pulled the ties, zipping his briefs away! He stopped dancing
in surprise as the lights went out but the music continued. A voice suddenly
whispered in his ear, "Don't stop now, big boy" and he felt the unmistakable
pressure of a pair of breasts at his back and hips against his buttocks. He
began to bump and grind again, the body behind him matching his every move
and slowly moving him across the room. He could not tell where he was going,
but had decided this was Sandy from the high spot her breasts were hitting
him.



The music changed to a rumba, as he collided cock first with another
body in front of him. He automatically grabbed her by the hips, as the body
behind him did the same to him, and the sandwich worked its way forward in
the dark. His cock was trapped with the shaft between the ass cheeks of the
girl in front, the head bumping her spine with every step. The breasts
behind him were erect now; he felt the tips of the nipples burning into his
back. Suddenly the body in front disappeared, the hands at his hips grabbed
his wrists and he felt his arms tied behind his back.



"Hey, what gi-mmmff!" He started to protest as something was pushed
into his mouth. The person at his back quickly frog-marched him to a low
bench, fastened both ankles to cuffs and untied his arms, then put them into
cuffs behind his head. Now the lights came on, glaring into his eyes. He was
in the same room he had dressed in, securely tied down on the bench, his
cock still standing tall from the rumba sandwich. All three women were naked
around him, as Ginny said, "You can talk the talk, big boy, but can you walk
the walk?" With that she pulled the gag out of his mouth and replaced it
with her pussy. "Keep me entertained, friend -- keep us all entertained!"



As he started licking, he felt fingers toying with his penis, the nails
lightly running up the shaft to the crown, a hand hefting his balls, then
rimming his anus. Ginny's legs were over his ears, so he could only react to
what he felt and Ginny's movements. One of his arms was untied, and his hand
was placed on a breast. Sandy's he guessed, which meant that Meg was the one
teasing him at the other end. He massaged the breast as he nibbled, kissed
and licked Ginny's vagina. He ringed her clitoris, feeling her response even
as his hand was moved to Sandy's other breast. His tongue made a beeline for
her vagina, pushing its way in with the desperation he was feeling below,
where Meg's fingers and tongue were keeping him on the edge of being able to
come. He thrust his hips, but into unresisting air.



Now Ginny pressed heavily on his mouth, nearly breaking his nose with
the force of her pubic bone as she came on his tongue. He was dizzy from
lack of air by the time she got up from his face, and his cock was throbbing
painfully. "You should really thank Meg for keeping you busy, you know,"
Ginny said, and with that Meg straddled his head facing his feet. He had a
choice of holes, and tested the rosebud nearest him.



As Meg wriggled and settled onto his face, Sandy moved his hand from
her breast to her bush, and he worked his fingers around there. He wondered
what Ginny was doing, when the bench fell away from his hips -- there must
have been a drop-flap there. A pair of hands began to massage his butt,
occasionally reaching up to toy with his still-aching cock and balls. She
rubbed some kind of lotion into his anal crack, then worked one finger up
his ass. He started jerking and jumping, as much as he could in his tied
position, and his fingers and tongue redoubled their efforts for Sandy and
Meg. Everything started happening at once then. First Sandy clenched his
hand between her thighs, then Meg reached down and grabbed his ass as she
pushed her ass onto his probing tongue, and Ginny's finger found his
prostate and pushed him over the edge as he shot and jerked and twisted and
screamed and shot...



When he came to, he was curled up in the back seat of his car, in the
parking lot at the dance club, and it was late morning. Had it all been a
dream? He was wearing his leather pants; his silk shirt was fully buttoned.
He looked up and saw, dangling from the rear-view mirror, an
hourglass-shaped piece of silk with string ties...



***** {END} ***** Completed 1989; 1917 words.

davesmistress
07-16-2006, 01:51 AM
Excellent story...always love those with women in charge...thanks for posting it Jolly.

davesmistress
11-16-2006, 03:37 PM
This is another goodie...hee hee.....:)

freedom
11-16-2006, 10:52 PM
Great story!!!

davesmistress
11-17-2006, 03:49 AM
Thanks Freedom...hope others get a chance to view it....:)