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From: "rdodger" <rajahdodger@gmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Rajah Dodger Repost Flood: Man Dance [MFFF]
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Date: Fri, 01 Sep 2006 00:10:01 -0400
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Abstract: A man goes looking for women outside male dancer clubs and
gets more than a handful

     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 warm-up 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 warm-up 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, and
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.

Copyright (c) 1989 Rajah Dodger (rdodger@hotmail.com)

     This was my first distributed story.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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