I rang in the New Year with a revival of my brief career as a go-go boy, dancing naked with several other go-go boys at a party in Soho. I have danced naked at parties thrown by this promoter before; they have tended to be pleasantly decadent events, although they have kept me up way, way past my bedtime. The tone of the interactions between the party guests and the go-go boys is decidedly sexual, and the amount of groping, licking, jerking, fingering, and sucking performed on the dancers increases over the course of the evening. Each go-go boy sets his own boundaries, however, and I have drawn the line at cocksucking. Party guests are welcome to touch me anywhere, but, while I am happy for them to put almost any part of my body in their mouths, when they aim for the erection I laughingly guide their heads away. There are some things to which only E.S. has rights. (He is aware of my participation in these events, by the way, and he approves, if only because the tips help us pay our mortgage.)
Last night at one point two cute guys, perhaps in their mid-twenties, came over to the platform on which I was dancing. The shorter one, with sandy blond hair, grinned up at me. “Tell him to suck your cock,” he said, indicating the brunet.
I made an apologetic face. “I’m sorry, I can’t,” I said. “But what if I dream tonight about both of you doing that together?”
They laughed. The blond reached out, fondled certain parts of my anatomy, and then drew his hand away, looking almost guilty. “You can keep going,” I said.
“No, it would be too weird,” he replied.
The brunet said, “Yeah, this is too new,” meaning, I understood, that they had recently started dating.
“Congratulations!” I said.
“So why can’t you tell him to suck your cock?”
“Because it would make my boyfriend very unhappy,” I said.
“Oh, good for you,” said the brunet, smiling.
The blond looked at me blankly. “Dude. You’re a stripper.”
And I was like, You don’t deserve him at all.
I do hope they both have a good year.
But I hope one of them has a slightly better year than the other.
Happy new year !
Those fine lines people have trouble understanding are what made me give up dancing naked at parties. Well, that and people running screaming from the room. 🙂
Happy New Year, Faustus!
It was nice to see you last night.
Of course it would have been the blond who said that.
Brunet? Oh, you’re not serious.
Dirty, dirty boy… just kiddin’… Happy new Year
Apparently, I keep getting invited to the wrong parties…
happy new year!
Hmm, not sure I would be so sanguine about that situation. And I would have kicked the blond in the head. Accidentally.
mmmmm. . . strippers
How you can maintain such precise self-control in situations like that, I do not know.
wow, just stumbled upon your site via a link from a favourite blog and am loving it… can’t wait to read more!
You’re selling yourself short. You’re no go-go boy. You’re a go-go man.
So, this may sound silly, but… those tips? Where does one put them, exactly, if you’re naked?
“And I was like, You don’t deserve him at all.”
The veil of Dorothy Parker has fallen away, and now standing revealed we see the spirit of Alicia Silverstone.
Like, totally.