by Marie Skye
At no point in my life did I ever think a club full of women would be so turned on and inspired to turn out their pockets for a guy in a mother fucking rabbit suit. But that’s exactly what happened.
I was practically blinded by the lights as Betty ushered me into the open. These women erupted in screams as soon as I popped out, accompanied by some weird electronic remix that kept spitting out “I’m hunting wabbits” among the thumping base of techno.
Honestly, I don’t remember dancing. I don’t remember moving at all. But I know I was out and off the stage pretty fast and I was being led around by women. Horny women. Hungry, thirsty-as-fuck women that were dragging me along by my plush peter as if it were a leash. I was passed from one eager woman to the next while fingernails and hands groped at me.
I tried to get into it, grinding a little with some of them as they took turns rubbing their bodies against me. Never in my life had I been around so many hot and bothered women with their eyes on me. It was intoxicating.
Or it might have been the very obvious scent of sex and pheromone hanging in the air.
All of it was loosening me up and I found myself more willing to dance. It… probably had something to do with the money being waved at me, coming from all directions. They were shoving it into various openings in the spandex rabbit suit.
Was this ever gonna end? I couldn’t tell if the song was just running forever or if the DJ had just kicked it back on repeat to stretch out the torture.
I kind of didn’t want it to end.
It wasn’t really torture. It was a welcome distraction from all the other bullshit. Any embarrassment and fear I had washed away pretty quickly. As I wrapped my hands around the meat of one girls particularly meaty hips forced into ultra-tight denim the song faded. More money came as they screamed at me. I could feel them jerking and tugging at the fuzzy cock of the suit as the DJ called for them to settle down and set me free. I kept looking around to them, grinning like an idiot as they pawed at me while I made my way back to the stage. I back pedaled slowly, watching them and waving awkwardly.
That was the first time I really noticed the cash that was hanging out from the costume at all angles. I looked like an overstuffed scarecrow. I found Betty just on the other side of the curtain. Her eyebrows went up as our eyes met. “Was that fun?”
I shrugged and put my hands in the air, laughing. “What the fuck did I just do?”
“It looks like you paid your tab… and then some. C’mon meat, lets count your spoils.”
“Holy shit, guy.” I caught a hard clap on the shoulder as Sinclair stepped up, a towel slung around his neck. He put a hand out to fist bump and I returned the gesture as he nodded. “That was insane. You can’t dance for shit but they loved the way you worked that suit. Never seen it rain paper like that for a vanilla twinkie.”
“Thanks… I think.”
“Speaking of which,” Sinclair thumbed over his shoulder, his brow rising as he tilted his head. “Betty, Big D is kinda pissed with you sticking the rabbit before his spot.”
Betty rolled her eyes, and it was as if I watched the clock on her age roll forward a bit. “He’ll get over it. One dance with a pair of those barely-there Hilfiger thongs and he can paddle a canoe through the pussy juice. He’ll bankrupt those bitches.”
I’ve been around some salty women working the department. Any time you put a woman in a predominantly male field you wind up with a bad ass chic. If they didn’t start out that way, then they get there pretty fast.
But those were mostly younger women. Betty was like a… mother-type. But not that simple. She was a shark. You could see it. She didn’t take shit. She definitely wasn’t soft. I don’t intimidate easily but I felt if I spoke out of turn she’d have my ass.
“See you round, guy.” Sinclair struck my shoulder again and I nodded after him. My eyes scanned his chiseled frame as he walked away, and I couldn’t help feeling a bit inadequate. I wasn’t out of shape by any means but these guys all took a hell of a lot better care of their bodies than I did.
“Let’s go see about my money, August.”
“Almost $800. That’s not bad considering you’re like the Pontiac Aztek of male dancers.” Betty flexed the stack of money and dropped the pile onto the table, gesturing as she put her hands on her hips. “You could do a hell of a lot better though.”
Did she just insult me? I think she did. What the hell?
“Don’t take it personally. Every one of my boys started out with some basic raw talent but not much else. Like you.” One of the bouncers entered the dressing room, looking me up and down as he leaned toward Betty to speak quietly. Her face lit a bit with surprise and she laughed as she looked at me.
“You’re shitting me. There’s a handful of private requests for you.”
“Really? Like one on one?” My brain went straight to the thought of giving lap dances to horny women spending the rest of the night fucking for money and my cock twitched to life
“He’s not available.” She shot back to the bouncer and he nodded, leaving us standing alone in the dressing room again.
“I woulda done it.”
“No, meat. The flesh might be willing but the last thing I need is your dick turtling while you freeze up – or worse, you blow your wad before the client gets any value. I’m not letting you fuck that up.”
“I won’t fuck it up.” I got pushy real fast. I don’t know why. Not only did I genuinely not want to dance in a private room with a random woman but I REALLY didn’t favor the idea of doing it naked even if my dick was betraying my right now. But I felt like I had something to prove I guess. Maybe it was just being told I couldn’t, I don’t know.
“You would.”
“Let me do it.”
“You really want to do it?”
“I fuckin said it didn’t I?”
Betty closed the distance between us, inspecting me before making eye contact and passing the stack of money to me. “Go home. Clean up. Shower, shave, get your shit together. Come back tomorrow night. We’ll try it.”
“Why can’t I do the private thing now?”
“Because, August, you smell like an old mop and you look half-starved, desperate, and homeless. The fact you can still sell sexy amazes me. Go home. Clean up. Then we’ll try it.”
The weight of the cash in my hands was starting to register and I turned it over, taking in the stack. What normally took days to earn at the department came from one dance. Six minutes. I’d be able to cover minimum payments on some bills at least.
Fuck… how much would I make in a whole night? Betty’s laughter broke the silence and brought my attention back to the present. “You need to get out of that costume, I can’t take you seriously with those ears.”
“Really?” I looked down, grabbed the giant furry cock and held up. “The ears are what’s distracting you?”
“Tomorrow. 7:00 PM.”
4
I didn’t go straight home but I didn’t drink anymore either. I wanted to understand more about all of this and quite honestly I hadn’t made up my mind about coming back. I didn’t think I could put myself back up there, not like these guys.
A full body spandex suit was one thing. Practically naked and dancing was something else entirely. I’d been a hose jockey pretty much my entire adult life. I knew fire. I knew cars. I knew art.
I didn’t know a goddamn thing about being a glistening, ‘lotiony’ sex icon on stage.
My attention was fixated on the guys each time they came out. Polar opposite to when I first arrived. I had blinders on now and didn’t really pay much attention to the women in the crowd. Despite being the only male non-employee standing around, the women didn’t pay much attention to me either. They were fixated on the stage like me. I guess they didn’t recognize me without the bunny suit.
If I had to rate these guys on performance and reaction from the crowd my money would be on Jag and Gio. They whipped the ladies into a frenzy. I’ve never seen anyone dance like B
ig D, though. Jag’s moves were liquid but Big D reminded me of fire.
Every movement was different and intense, but mesmerizing to watch.
I didn’t intend to stick around until the place closed down. I was tired again. Not only did my entire body feel heavy, but the rush from earlier had worn off alongside the buzz from the drink. My attempts at moving and dancing – if you want to call it that – took their toll. My muscles were angry and my back was complaining. It was gonna be a shitty walk back to my apartment but I was looking forward to getting there.
For the first time in a while I still felt good, and relished the though of grabbing a hot shower.
The night was on rewind in my head as I slipped out the front, catching a nod of approval from the same jock bouncer who didn’t want to let me in for a drink earlier. Every few steps I felt the folds of weighty cash shift in my pockets and shit would replay. It felt unreal.
“August!”
I had made it maybe half a block from the club when I heard my name. Glancing back at the familiar voice I saw her speed walking toward me. I hadn’t seen Amy in almost a year I think, and it was weird as fuck to see her in anything but a uniform or turnout gear. She called my name again and waved when I saw her.
I more than saw her. I was staring. She was in skin tight jeans, knee high black boots that screamed ‘fuck me’, and a flowy silver top that was the perfect contrast to her thick, wavy brown hair. The only reason I really noticed the clothing was because the entire outfit went above and beyond the call of duty in accentuating her thick curves.
Every time I saw her I wanted to crawl up and bit her on the ass. I thought she was dynamite when she wore turnout gear but seeing her like this hurt me inside.
One of those feelings that remind you exactly how much time has passed since the last time you had a pair of legs over your shoulder, folding a girl in half while you crushed into her as deep as possible. Amy caught up to me and had the happiest look on her face. She was fucking elated to see me, which was a little odd to me because we had never really been super close friends or anything. Just close on the job.
I wasn’t going to protest the attention, it was a good night for it. Especially not when she threw her arms around me and crushed her breasts into my chest.
I laughed out a greeting as she smashed her lips onto my cheek and returned the hug.
“Oh my god, August. I thought that was you.” She stepped back but was still pretty close to me. Whatever scent she was wearing was crazy intoxicating and made my head spin on the first hint of it. “What are you doing here you crazy ass? Were you seriously on stage? Did that really just happen?”
“Ah, yeah. It’s a long story.”
“Are you like… working here now?”
“No! Fuck, no I’m not a stripper.” The slightest look of disappointment crossed her face and I back peddled a bit. “I mean, they liked what I did tonight and asked me to come back tomorrow.”
I don’t know why I was compelled to brag about it, like it was some impressive accomplishment. It was more like a callback for a porn audition. You kind of celebrate stuff like that a little differently than… say… passing your fire certification exam and getting a job offer from City Fire.
“So, you’re not at the station anymore then?”
I grimaced a bit and shook my head. That was a shitty question for her to ask. Everyone and their fucking mother knew I was done after what happened. Any other time I probably would have taken a lot more offense and told her to fuck off. Everything in me was riding a bit higher tonight though.
Maybe she was just really terrible at making small talk, or she had some drinks in her.
“Well… where are you going now? I think I need to eat. I’m craving steak and eggs.” Her hand ran up into her hair fluffing it in the back. God damn she looked amazing, and here I was in my shittiest pair of cargo pants and wrinkled t-shirt. I’m sure I looked like shit. “You want to go get something to eat? You can tell me about your rabbit suit, Bugs.”
“Um…. Long night.” I chuckled. As much as I didn’t want to turn her down I was in no state for any more public appearances. “I’m gonna grab a shower and get some sleep I think. Yeah.”
“Are you walking?”
“Yeah, I’m just a few blocks from here I think.”
“Lemmie give you a ride, August. C’mon, my car’s this way.” She was off before I had a chance to protest. Not that I had planned to other than the obligatory ‘oh no thanks’ and then they insist so you agree. I was happy to take the ride. My back was fucking killing me.
And wandering along behind her, watching her round ass shuffle side to side, was enough to make me follow her anywhere.
You can’t really get in a lot of catching up when the car ride is just a few minutes. She was definitely interested in catching up, too. Between the club and my apartment Amy had fired off one question after another to find out what I’d been up to.
I didn’t feel like getting too deep into the shit that’s been going on. She knew about the incident. Everyone knew about the incident. Everyone knew I broke protocol and went into that structure fire to save that kid when I shouldn’t have. Everyone knew how Drake went in after me to cover my ass.
But I didn’t know he was doing that. He died. I had a roof drop on me and I got ejected from the department. Doesn’t matter I guess… I couldn’t do the work now anyway.
I also didn’t want to engage in a topic that would take forever to answer given the short trip. That didn’t stop Amy.
She parked outside my apartment and even though my hand was on the door handle she just kept on engaging.
I don’t think she wanted me to go.
“Are you gonna do it then?”
I had only partially been listening while she spoke, following up her own question with a personal story and then this. “Do what?”
“The club. Are you going back tomorrow?”
“I dunno,” I sighed as I pulled my hand from the door and let it rest on my leg. “Maybe. It’s good money but… yeah, I dunno.” I could see her watching me while I spoke. I wasn’t keen on going bacl. But I was strapped for cash and on the verge of being homeless. There weren’t a ton of options. I had zero skill outside of working fire and any manual labor grunt work wasn’t gonna happen.
I just didn’t really want to let on with Amy that I was washed up and didn’t have much choice. She didn’t respond, instead silently fidgeting with her hands. I reached for the door handle again and was about to thank her for the ride when I felt her hand on my arm. She was leaning across, trying to hold me from moving.
She didn’t say anything though, not at first. I looked at her hand and quirked a brow at her.
“I wanted to get a VIP dance with you but they said no.”
“Are you serious?”
“…I thought maybe it was because you knew it was me and didn’t want to.”
I scoffed and didn’t really know what to say. All the times I’d obsessively stared at this woman when we crossed paths in the field hoping to catch her attention and it happens now? “ah… no, Amy. It’s… Jesus. It was like a thing I had to do at the club but I’m not a dancer or employee or whatever. They wouldn’t let me take any VIP hookups. Dances. Whatever.”
Her face was flushed which made my chest swell as something stirred in me. I’d never seen her react like that. She was quiet again and we were just looking at each other. I felt a war erupt between my brain and my body.
My apartment was trashed, I needed a shower, and if anything would give away the condition my life was in it would be her setting foot inside my place.
But every fiber of me was telling my brain to shut up and fuck Amy until my body gave out on me. Given all the warning signs I’d have to be a moron to listen. There’s something about the weight of cash in your pockets that gives confidence though.
“You still want that dance?”
It was a silent agreement, but even without any words spoken I could feel the e
agerness in her nod. It flashed in her eyes as brightly as a mirror bent in just the right way to sun-smack you, blinding for just a split second. Leaving the vehicle at the curb outside the storefront I led her around and up the secluded staircase to my upstairs flat. I lingered at the door as my hands started to fish around in my pockets. I was searching for words as furiously as I was hunting for my keys.
“Amy, this isn’t-“
“It’s fine. I know you don’t have the rabbit suit with you.”
The small injection of levity eased the tension for me just enough to find some solid footing and get a hold of the situation. I laughed and leaned against the door to my apartment, resting my head against it with closed eyes. “No, thank god. I just meant that this isn’t a thing I do. I haven’t really kept up on things since-“
Amy put a hand on my arm, reassuring me with a comfortable smile and a slight squeeze. “It’s fine. I get it. I was the same way when my dad got hurt. Besides you’re a guy… and a firefighter. If you’re like any of the other guys on the department your station was spotless, your car was immaculate, and your house looked like the aftermath of a frat party.”
“That’s putting it nicely.”
Amy stepped closer to me, the volume in her voice dropping just a bit as her hands pressed into my chest, fingers tracing down my stomach. I could feel her fingernails eagerly playing at my skin through my shirt. “So, let’s go inside so you can get that shower and I can get my dance.”
5
I don’t know what about Amy attracted me more. Her curves were something you could lose your mind over, but her intelligence and wit were impressive. Seeing her work, hearing her run scenes… I had always been crazy about wanting to take her for a ride.
So, I’m not really sure why I was still standing in the bathroom after drying off. I wasn’t finding an answer in the mirror. My body was ready enough; my dick was rock hard and practically bouncing along with the rapid rhythm of my heart. I couldn’t seem to make myself step out of the bathroom. There was something about bringing her home from the strip club that just felt seedy, wrong, and somehow manipulative.