Christmas at the Strip Club

It was mid-December now, and I was back at the Manhattan Gentlemen's club. I was hanging out at the bar with Angie, the bartender, and a new girl, Vicky, who was running coat check that night.

"This is one of our regulars, Peter," said Angie. "He's a very nice guy. You'll like him."

"Please to meet you," I said, rising to shake her hand.

Vicky was short and olive-skinned, and very buxom. I would guess she was Italian.

"Peter is also a pervert," Angie said, "and he likes to have nude photos taken of himself."

I blushed, and Vicky did too. Angie reached into a cabinet to remove a manila envelope.

"Wanna see one?" Angie asked.

Vicky looked at me, quickly ran her eyes up and down my body, and said "sure."

Angie slid the envelope across the bar to Vicky. She opened, and pulled the photo out.

"Holy crap!" she said. "This is right when you're cumming?"

"Yeah," said Angie. "Hot, isn't it?"

Vicky nodded her head slowly, and put the photo away.

"Wow," she said. "I've never worked at a place that kept nude pictures of the customers behind the bar."

"Not all the customers," said Angie. "Just Peter — he's special."

Vicky came over to give me a hug, pushing her breasts into me. As she turned away, she let her left hand glide down my chest to my crotch, where she gave my cock a squeeze. I was soft, but it felt good.

"Thank you for the photo, Peter," she said, walking away.

"And don't tell Tony," said Angie. "That's just for the girls."

Angie put the photo away and brought me a scotch and soda.

"So do you show that photo to all the new girls?" I asked.

"Yeah, pretty much," she answered. "If you're a girl and you work here, then they've seen that photo of you. Nude. Hard. Cumming all over yourself."
 She ran her fingers up my arm to face, and placed her index finger on my lips. I kissed it gently.

"You're a bad girl, Angie."

"And you're a very bad boy," she said, smiling.

She made a drink for the waitress at the service bar, and came back.

"So what are you doing next Monday night?" she asked.

"I'm supposed to meet someone for a drink," I said.

"Bring 'em here!" she said. "The owners are taking the managers in the bouncers out for a steak dinner. They invited the girls too, but we told them we'd prefer to stay here and have our own party. So technically we're closed, but will be open for friends."

"I'm not so sure she'd like to go to a strip club, but thanks for the invitation," I said.

Actually, she probably would. I was meeting up with Vivienne, the photographer who had taken the photo of me that was behind the bar. But I needed a gracious way to decline the invitation.

"Alright," she said. "Maybe stop by later after your drink."

"That might work."

I met up with Vivienne at the Avenue B Social Club, a new-ish bar in the neighborhood. They had live jazz most nights, and there was never any cover. (Oddly, it used to be an S/M club, and there were stories of unusual items popping up from time to time in the basement.) I saw Vivienne sitting at a table with two other women, and I joined them.

"Hi," I said, "who are your friends?"

"This is Trish, and this is Jen," said Vivienne. "These are some of my 'girlfriends.'"

My stomach dropped. Vivienne had told me that she would be showing the photos from our shoot to her girlfriends, and by the smiles on Jen and Trish's faces, I knew she had done just that.

"They wanted to meet the model," Vivienne continued, "and I was worried you would not agree to meet them. Apologies for the subterfuge."

I shook their hands and sat down.

"No worries," I said, "just a little shocked."

"He's cute when he blushes," said Jen.

"That's sweet," said Trish.

"So what went threw your mind when you called Vivienne?" asked Jen, leaning in.

She was an attractive brunette, around 40 and lanky.

"Well, I was nervous," I said.

"Nervous because you were going to be nude?" she asked.

"That, and also because I didn't know what the boundaries were."

"And when I asked if you wanted hardcore shots?" asked Vivienne.

"That helped," I said, "but I still didn't know how 'hardcore' hardcore was going to be."

"So when you saw that you was going to be pretty hardcore," said Trish, "how did you feel?"

"You must have felt pretty good, right?" asked Jen. "I mean, you were very hard."

"And he was making a lot of pre-cum," added Vivienne.

"Hi. Care for a drink?
 I had not seen the waitress approach the table. I had no idea what she'd heard.

"Scotch and soda, please," I said.

"We're fine," said Vivienne.

The waitress walked away.

"So when you getting hard, I mean really hard ..." continued Jen.

"I felt great," I said. "It was a huge turn-on. I mean, there was this woman — a stranger — standing in front of me, watching me. And she knew I was getting incredibly turned on. And she liked it." "I did like it," added Vivienne.

"I felt like some kind of sexual performer," I said, "where my sex and my sexuality were being enjoyed by someone else."

"I think that's right," said Jen. "I mean, I enjoyed them. I've masturbated many times to those photos."

"Me, too," said Trish.

"Maybe once," said Vivienne, with a smile.

The girls laughed, and the waitress showed up with my drink.

"I mean, it's just porn," said Jen. "And you're our private little porn star. If I'm feeling stressed, I break out my vibrator and start looking at your photos. And then I cum, and I feel better."

"How does that make you feel?" asked Trish.

"It makes me feel great," I said. "In fact, I'm hard right now."

Jen put her hand in my crotch, feeling my cock.

"Yup, he sure is," she said.

A fourth woman joined us at the table, awkwardly carrying a duffel bag.

"Peter, this is Nicole," Trish said.

I stood to shake her hand.

"Wow," I said, "what's in the bag?"

"I'm a pro domme," she said.

She deposited the bag on the table and unzipped it. Inside were floggers, paddles, dildos, harness, even a couple of short canes.

"And these are the tools of my trade," she said zipping the bag back up. "So you're the model, huh? Almost didn't recognize you with your clothes on."

"Nice to meet you as well," I said.

My cell phone rang, and I stepped away to answer it. I didn't recognize the number.
 "Hello," I said.

Wherever the caller was, it was loud. It sounded like a night club, with music blaring in the background.

"Peter?"

It was Angie. She sounded buzzed.

"Where are you?

"I told you. I was having drinks with a friend tonight."

"Then bring her. Come on. We got a real nice party going on here."

"Actually, we were joined by some of her girlfriends. There are now five of us."

"BRING THEM, Peter. Come on," Angie pleaded.

She may have been more than buzzed.

"Just stop and get plastic cups," she said. "I made a whole mess of sangria. Just bring your friends and come on over. PLEASE. Just do it."

"I'll talk to the group, and let you know."

"BYE!"

I sat back down at the table.

"I don't know if you would be interested, but you're invited to a party at a local bar. Kind of a Christmas staff party."

"That could be fun," said Nicole. "I haven't ordered anything yet."

"There is a catch," I said. "It's at a strip club."

"That could be fun," said Jen. "Let's go."

"I've never been to a Christmas party at a strip club," said Trish. "I'm game."

"Then I'll let them know we're coming," I said.

I looked around for the waitress. Nicole leaned over to whisper in my ear.

"Heh heh, heh heh," she said in a Beavis & Butthead voice. "You said coming."

And then she squeezed my cock.

"Shit. You're hard already," Nicole said. "This should be fun."

We walked out of the Social Club and down Avenue B to Houston Street. The Manhattan Gentlemen's Club was just one long block down, at Avenue A. The air was brisk but not cold, which gave my erection a chance to subside. We popped into a deli to get plastic cups, and then crossed the intersection to the club.

I called Angie back so she'd have someone open the door for us. It was Vicky.

"Come on in, guys," she said. "Help yourself to the coat check."

We hung up our coats, and made our way to the bar. Veronica was up on the stage, dancing away with a drink in her hand. She was topless, with her dress bunched down around her hips. Alex and Kim were sitting in club chairs, by the stage. I recognized most of the other dancers, but there were a lot of other women here, too. In fact, all I saw was women — I was the only guy here.

Angie was in front of the bar, and on top it was was an cooler full of ice and several pitchers of sangria.

"You made it!" yelled Angie. "Come on over, and help yourselves. I'm not working tonight."

I introduced Vivienne and her friends to the girls, and got myself a drink.

"And what do you do for a living, Vivienne?" asked Angie.

"I'm a photographer," she replied.

"Nice — hold on. Are you THE photographer?" asked Angie. "The one that shot Peter in the nude."

"So Peter has told you about that?"

"Told us?" said Angie. "We've seen them! They're hot! In fact ...."

Angie hopped around the bar and reached into a cabinet. She ran back, holding a manila envelope.

"We have one!"

Angie pulled out the photo, the one of me cumming.

She ran over to Jen, Trish and Nicole.

"Guys, I've got something to show you," she said, holding up the picture.

"Nice," said Jen, "but we've seen it. Vivienne showed us all the photos from the shoot."

"So wait," said Vivienne "who else has seen this photo?"

"All of us!" said Angie. "Well, all of the girls who work here."

"Even me," said Vicky, "and I only started last week."

"So let me get this straight," said Nicole. "Most of the people in this bar has this photo of Peter. Cumming."

"That's right," said Angie.

"Peter, you little slut," said Nicole.

What could I say? It was true!

Veronica had taken off her dress and g-string, and was dancing in the nude. That was something to distract me. But Kim felt left out, and decided it was her turn in the spotlight. Veronica put her g-string back on, and sat down in a club chair. Kim lost no time and ripped off her dress and g-string. She walked around the stage lustily, grabbing at her tits and fingering her clit. Then she sat down in the center of the stage, and started masturbating.

"Wow," said Jen, "some party."

I went over to get another drink. By the time I got back, Kim was nearing her orgasm. Her legs extended, her back arched, she shuddered and collapsed on the stage. The whole club applauded, especially the bunch of punk girls who were seated right by the stage.

"Those are Vicky's friends. They're in a band together," said Angie. "And they're lesbians, so I'm pretty sure they're enjoying the show."

"Me next," said Alex, walking on stage. She extended a hand to Kim, who used it to rise to her feet. She grabbed her dress and g-string, and walked off the stage, still nude. She walked over to bar and got herself some sangria.

"Is she going to walk around like that all night?" asked Vivienne.

"Knowing Kim, I would say so."

Alex was doing a traditional strip tease, and had peeled down to her g-string. She got down on her knees, and lightly ran her hands over her breasts and down to her pussy.

"Take it off," yelled some girls.

"Get naked!" yelled Kim.

She was sitting on one of the barstools with her arm around Angie, acting completely natural. She had no issues hanging out with no clothes on.

"I did it!" yelled Veronica.

"I don't know," said Alex. "I'm nervous!"

"Just do it," yelled Nicole, walking off.

Alex looked down at her g-string, and then up at the crowd. She took a breath, hooked her thumbs under her g-string, and slowly slid them down past her hips, revealing a hairless pussy. She pushed the g-string to the ground, and stepped out of them.

Emboldened, she stepped to one of the poles and grabbed it. She brought one of her legs out to the side, and held it up with her free hand. It was a standard stripper move, but Alex was nude. Her pussy lips parted, revealing a little glistening and a touch of pink. The crowd applauded.

Then she came down to the lip of the stage, and squatted down with her legs together. She then slowly spread her knees apart. Then she sat down with her legs still spread, and opened up her pussy with her hand. The crowd applauded, and yelled for more.

I was surprised Alex was doing this. She was very sexual, but she was also somewhat reserved, rarely engaging in naughty behavior. But she was liking this. She giggled and threw her head back. When she brought her head back, Nicole was standing in front of her, her bag at her feet.

In her hand was a vibrator.

"Hi, I'm Nicole," she said. "And I though you might want this."

Alex took the vibe, powered it up and put it on her clit. It must have been strong, as she looked up at the crowd in amazement. She reclined on one elbow, and molested her tits with her free hand. She slid the vibe up and down her clit, finding her own rhythm. Her hips started bucking, and she ground the vibe into her crotch. She fell onto her back and grabbed her hair. Her hips went up once, twice, three times, and she held them there, in mid-air. 
"I'm coming!" she yelled, before collapsing in a heap.

The crowd stood up and applauded.

Alex grabbed her dress and g-string and wobbled off the stage. She caught my eye, and walked over to me.

"I just realized something," she said. "You've never seen me naked."

"That's right," I said.

"Do you like?" she asked.

"Wow — do I?"

I reached out and gave her hug. I let my hands run down to her back to her ass, and gave it a playful squeeze. I moved my right hand across her hip and down to her pussy, but she stopped me.

"When am I ever going to have another chance, Alex?"

She looked me in the eye and said "OK. But quickly."

I reached down to her pussy and inserted one finger. I moved it around, then drew it to my mouth.

"I really just wanted to taste you," I said.

"Bad boy," she said, playfully slapping my face.

She went over to sit by Kim and Angie, and I followed suit. Kim was trying to convince Angie to get on stage, but Angie wasn't won over. 
"I don't have a dress and a g-string like you guys. I've got black pants and a white shirt. I don't even remember you what kind of underwear I have on!" she protested.

"You'll do fine, Angie," said Kim. "Give it a go. It's just us girls. And Peter. And you've already seen Peter naked."

"That's true. More than naked, actually," she said.

She chugged the last of her sangria, and stood up.

"I'll do it."

She climbed on stage and took a couple of steps to find the beat of the music. Then she undid the buttons on the cuffs of her shirt, and started working on the buttons on the front. When she got to the bottom, she tucked her chin and scanned the crowd. People were clapping and yelling encouragement.Then she ripped open her shirt and took it off, revealing her bra.

Then she sat down and took off her shoes and socks.

"I don't know what I was thinking," she said. "I should have taken these off before I got up here."

With her stripping preparations now complete, she jumped back up. She started to walk along the front of the stage, undoing her belt buckle. She pulled it through the loops and tossed it aside. Then she popped the top button on her pants, and slowly slid them partly down her hips.

She turned around to give us a good look at her ass. She took a quick look over her shoulder at the crowd, then slid her pants down past her ass, pushing her ass out towards us in the process.

"I think Angie's looking for a new job!" yelled Veronica.

Angie blushed and shook her head. She took a couple more dance steps, then reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. She was facing us now, with one arm covering her breasts. With her free hand, she slid the bra down her arms. She tossed it aside and stood before us with her hand on her breasts.

"Go for it, Angie!" said Alex.

Angie nodded yes, and then threw her arms in the air in a victory pose. Revealed to us now were two near-perfect B-cup breasts, with small, hard nipples. They looked great.

"Now the panties!" said Kim.

Angie nodded again and turned around. She slid her panties down, and kicked them in a corner. When she turned around, she had her arms down over her breasts, and her hands covering her pussy.

There was a certain "moment of truth" quality in the room. This would be, most likely, the first time Angie had been nude in front of a room full of people. But she was smiling, and I think she liked the attention. She threw her arms up, and spread her legs to boot. She held this position for several seconds, giving everyone a good look.

Nicole reappeared with another vibrator, but Angie wouldn't take it. She grabbed her clothes and scampered off stage to a round of applause.

"Not getting off for us tonight?" asked Kim. "That's too bad. But you were good!"

"Thanks," she said. "It was fun. Kind of rush, really."

I handed her some sangria.

"Enjoy the show, Peter?" she asked.

"I always thought you had a good body," I said. "Now I know for sure."

"Good," she said, taking a drink. "And I think you're next."

Angie — still naked — turned to the crowd and said "who wants to see Peter strip?"

The crowd applauded, and I looked at Angie.

"Most of the people here have seen you naked," she said, "and I think the others would like to have the chance. So get up there and give us a show."

What she said was true and, more to the point, I was thrilled at the opportunity to strip in front of a club full of girls. I took off my socks and shoes (thanks, Angie) and hopped on stage.

I realized, though, that while I wanted to get nude, I didn't actually know how to strip. So I decided to mimic Angie, and started unbuttoning my shirt. I removed it, twirled it above my head, and sent it flying off into the audience. I pulled the bottom of my t-shirt up over my head, and sent that flying, too.

That left the pants. I unbuckled my belt, slid it through the loops and tossed it over the front of the stage. Then, just like Angie, I turned around and slid my pants down over my boxers. I kicked my pants off the stage, and turned around.

Now I was just in my boxers, but I was pretty hard by now. So my cock was pushing hard against the fabric. I walked to the lip of the stage and hooked my thumbs in my boxers. The crowd was whooping and hollering.

I slid my boxers down to the top of my pubes and stopped. Then I pulled them down to the base of my cock, revealing my pubes. Then — very slowly — I slid them down the shaft of my cock until my cock sprung upright and out of my boxers.

The crowd was yelling and clapping, and I threw my boxers into the crowd.

There I stood, on the stage of the Manhattan Gentlemen's Club, naked and hard.

I loved it. It felt good.

I felt great.

I hopped off the stage in front of where Veronica was sitting with some of her friends, clapping. I walked over to her slowly, my cock sticking out from my body. When I got close, she reached out to stroke it.

"Thank you for the show, baby," she said.

One of her friends reached behind me to grab my ass. Then she slid her hand between my thighs and cupped my balls. I leaned down to kiss her on the lips. Then I kissed Veronica, too.

Her other friends wanted a feel, so I moved to the other side of the table. They moved their hands over my cock and balls, sometimes sliding up to my chest and face. I kissed them and walked to the next table, where the punk girls were sitting.

Lesbian or not, they all copped a feel.

"I still prefer the silicone ones," said one of the them, "but there's something to be said for the real ones, too."

She was an Asian girl, and had on thick, black glasses. In fact, all of them did.