[mand] [1989] ManDance [MFFF]
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.
Word Count: 1917
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/ (c) 1989 Rajah Dodger (c) All Rights Reserved
///// This was my first distributed story.