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Maybe you think being a male stripper is a glamorous job. Maybe the very job title conjures up images of Chippendales and a hall full of excitable females, maybe even those videos with a room full of women eager to gobble your cock. It’s not really like that, at least not if you’re a one man band, like me. Fitness is paramount, with a regimented diet plan and enough nutritional supplements to enable you to pull a plough. I can’t afford to let myself go for a minute. And being self-employed, there’s always the administration, the endless stream of stuff to be filled in, sent in; Revenue and Customs on your back the moment you miss a beat.

As for a love life as such; don’t even think about it. The green-headed monster is always there. The last girlfriend I had, four years ago now, used to subject me to hours of the third degree whenever I’d been away on a job. I mean, I could understand her, but there’s only so much of that you can take.

Advertising – the little I can do – needs to be subtle and discreet and managed on a shoestring. I have a website, of course, which has to be both titillating and classy – not an easy balance. And at the end of the day, it’s not as if I’m raking in the dosh. I’m just a one man band, making ends meet as best I can.

I’m not saying it’s a bad job, just that it’s not quite what you may think. There’s more to it than meets the eye. Clients have wishes that you can’t afford to not fulfil. The array of costumes needed is endless. Fortunately I have a good supplier. I’m sure you can guess what the most popular characters are; fireman, policeman, doctor, airline pilot, handyman, sometimes even soldier.

But some costumes are just downright weird, if not daft. I mean, Superman! Honestly, what’s that about? You’re way ahead of me, I’m sure; I’m supposed to strip down to my man thong, not wear underpants on top. So basically I’m wearing two sets of underwear, as if the boots weren’t making me feel like a prize ninny to start with. The cape’s alright, but the rest is just ridiculous.

Then there’s the fact that all-female groups with a few margaritas inside are not, how shall I put it, the most well-behaved gatherings on earth. Don’t get me wrong, it comes with the territory, but there’s a difference between a bit of cheeky fun and screaming vulgarity.

Then there’s the fact that you are expected to be visibly aroused. You may not think that would be a problem, but so many things can intervene. You have to be able to shunt whatever crap may be going on elsewhere in your life to the back of your mind. And even if you’re not turned on by the drunken, shrieking group in front of you, you have to pretend you are (so far the nutritional supplements have worked well enough, but don’t think I haven’t considered pharmaceutical solutions). And then you have the parties where, for whatever reason, your act doesn’t appear to be going down too well.

I’m not complaining; I’m just saying, it’s rarely straightforward, being a male stripper. On the other hand, things can sometimes get really interesting. And it’s the interesting stuff you’re interested in, isn’t it? Else why are you here? Well, it’s in the nature of everything I do to please, so I’m not going to disappoint.

I’m contacted by a woman by the name of Jacinta. She has a friend who she just calls Topsy, and she’s arranging her 30th birthday bash. It’s going to be Topsy, Jacinta and four other friends. There’s nothing out of the ordinary about this. I’m fine with it. It sounds straight forward enough, and it’ll keep the wolf from the door a little while longer.

Except that then Jacinta asks if I’ll come as Superman (“Can you come like Superman?” is what she actually says, which now has the air of a Freudian slip). Even at the time I note the double-entendre, but I’m also thinking, not that bloody Superman caper again. But, hey, the customer is queen, right? Yes, I’ll come dressed as Superman. I sidestep the double-entendre – in this line of business you soon learn that people who are anxious for you to get your kit off in front of them, most often don’t respond well to outright suggestiveness beyond the actual performance.

I’m given an address, we agree on a time, and all I have to do is organize the details my end. My contact smirks when I tell him I need the Superman costume again. I’d tell him he owed me a pint for that, except you can’t afford nights on the tiles when you need to be a lean, mean stripping machine.

On the day, I show up in my outfit. Jacinta answers the door – it’s a private residence, and the party is in full swing in the living room, with booze and food on a big table, the five other women exchanging what I shall loosely term banter. Jacinta points out Topsy to me. She’s sitting alone in an armchair, a round table with a huge cake a couple of feet in front of her. The thing that strikes me is that she is nicely dressed in a blue dress with a yellow floral pattern. The others, well, not to put too fine a point on it, are looking a bit slutty. Still, it’s not for me to judge.

Jacinta introduces me with a ribald remark. The girls cheer wildly. All except Topsy, who seems a bit reticent, a bit embarrassed. None of that matters. I have a job to do, a performance to put on. I get the show moving. I have a routine, but I try to keep it loose, leaving room for improvisation. I make sure the music’s loud, moving in time, doing several circuits of the room as I try to pace the actual removal of garments, which is not easy when you consider what I’m wearing. Still, I make sure I get the bloody overpants and boots off double quick, stopping in front of each of the women in turn, making eye contact, but not really noticing much about them individually. When you’ve done the job for a while, you cease to care much. I’m sorry if that sounds disappointing, but face it; what am I to these women but a hunk of fantasy flesh?

After a while the women start to get restive. One of them cries out, “When are you gonna show us your steel, Mr Super Stripper Man?”

By now I’ve liberated my upper body, and I’m thankful to get rid of the rest of the stupid costume. There are more shrieks and comments. I do my body builder pose, flexing my muscles before gyrating my way around the room in just my man thong. Unfortunately this is one of those times when there doesn’t appear to be much in the way of steel. Drunken girls and ribald vulgarity come with the territory; it’s not a problem, however obnoxious anyone becomes. But it’s Topsy’s party, and she’s clearly not enjoying this. She refuses to make eye contact, and the fact that this is not doing anything for her is a worrying mood-dampener.

Still, I try my best. I stand in front of her and do all the moves, front and back, like a wildly over-the-top Elvis the Pelvis impersonator. I’m still not getting the response I want. One of the other girls cries out, “Show us what you’re made of, oh Man of Steel!” The rest laugh. They gather round Topsy. I resort to some crotch grabbing. The other five whoop and shriek, but Topsy looks as if she’d rather be anywhere else but here.

“Maybe he needs to see a bit of boob!” Jacinta cries.

There’s laughing and shouting, so loud it almost drowns the music out. “Is that it, Mr Super Stripper Man?” one of the girls yells.

I’m trying to work out an answer when a redhead puts her hands on Topsy’s shoulders. “It’s your birthday, girl! Show the man some boob!”

Topsy squirms. Then the girl behind her is pulling the straps of her dress down, along with her bra straps. Everything happens in an instant. Suddenly Topsy is sitting there with full, naked breasts on display. There are wild shrieks of delight as Topsy leaps out of her seat. I step aside, being the only one sober enough to see how horrified she is by this. But then she stumbles forwards, her feet refusing to obey. She takes a tumble and comes down on the round table with the cake, her naked boobs going straight down into the chocolate, cream, jam and sponge. Just as well there are no candles.

I bend over and help her back up on her feet. She looks mortified before she rounds on the woman who has exposed her. “You bitch!” she screams.

We’re surrounded. Then someone’s hand is giving the back of my head a hard shove. The angle is well-judged. Taken by surprise, I have no time to stop my face hurtling into Topsy’s bosom; chocolate, cream and jam adhering to my face. I give a little puff, some of the cream flying off. Gingerly, I wipe my eyelids clean, seeing the hurt and anger in Topsy’s eyes. The other women are screaming and cheering loud enough to give a fighter jet a run for its money, seemingly completely insensitive to the plight of the birthday girl.

I put my arm around Topsy’s shoulders. “Come on,” I say. “Let’s go and get you cleaned off.”

She nods slowly, letting me guide her towards the bathroom, which I’ve spotted earlier, on my way in. Behind us the women are still shrieking. I don’t even know if they notice that we’ve gone.

In the bathroom, Topsy looks at me and gives me a weak smile. “Thank you,” she says.

I shrug, indicating that it was no more than the right thing to do. “What is it with them?” I say.

“With friends like that…?” Topsy says.

I nod.

She sighs. “They’re great when they’re sober,” she says. “Get them all together with a bit of alcohol… Well, you can see for yourself.”

I nod again.

“Especially Marlene.”

“Marlene… Is she the one…?”

Now it’s Topsy’s turn to nod. I catch our reflection in the mirror; two figures, one with his face covered in chocolate and cream, the other with her naked boobs covered in the same, along with a dollop of jam. I see that Topsy’s looking too. Catching each other’s eye we both burst out laughing. It comes as a bit of a relief that she laughs.

“I didn’t mean to…” she begins. “It was silly of me. I should have known.”

“No, no,” I say. “Like you said, with friends like that…”

Topsy nods again. She’s a sturdily-bodied woman, slightly taller than myself. Her eyes are clear blue and her shoulder-length hair just blonde enough to announce that it’s been shown a bottle. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t that enthusiastic,” she says. “I just…” She breaks off, giving a little sigh.

“Just…?”

“Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but that whole stripper thing… I find it a bit naff. Especially the Superman outfit.”

“Imagine what it feels like wearing it,” I tell her.

Topsy smiles, staring back into the mirror, where our eyes meet.

“It seems a shame to let good cake go to waste,” I say.

“It does, doesn’t it?”

There’s something in Topy’s voice. I keep looking into the mirror, watching as she does an extraordinary thing. Her hands come up, cupping her boobs. She pushes them up, head tilting forwards at the same time. Her tongue comes out and she uses it to scoop a dollop of cream from her full breasts and lift it back into her mouth. “Not bad,” she says with a smile.

I raise my own hand, shifting some of the cream clinging to the side of my mouth, so that I can taste it. “Agreed.”

I stare into the mirror. Topsy is still holding her boobs, staring into my eyes in the reflection. With all that chocolate, jam and cream on them, her breasts look like perfectly formed cakes themselves. I turn. Topsy smiles, invitingly. Heart beating, I lean in.

Topsy keeps smiling. My lips touch her, my mouth opens. My lips scoop up a combination of jam and chocolate from her heavy breasts.

“How does it taste?”

“Really good.”

Topsy just stands there, still smiling, still cupping her breasts. “Help yourself,” she says softly, seductively.

There’s something unreal about the whole situation. “Are you sure?”

“Why? Don’t you want to?”

“It’s just, you know, the Male Stripper Union frowns on excessively close contact,” I say. But I’m leaning in again at the same time. I bring my tongue out, licking up sweet chocolate, pushing cream and jam before it. Soon there’s a big dollop of white and red covering Topsy’s areola. I bring my lips together, sucking up the sweet stuff, finding hard nipple underneath. I suck on the hard nipple, sweeping about with my tongue, cleaning her off at the same time.

As I repeat the process with the other breast, Topsy breathes steadily. There’s a tension between us, the good kind of tension. I stand there, sucking on her hard teat for what seems like an eternity. When I lean back to look at my handiwork, there still a smear of cake on her boobs, but the nipples are also glistening from my saliva.

“You have nice lips,” Topsy tells me. Then she moves her head towards me, her lips gathering cream from my face. Her tongue comes out, sliding across my lips as she hungrily goes in search of the chocolate smearing me. My tongue comes out. We kiss. A long, tongue-swirling jam and cream and chocolate kiss.

Topsy smiles happily. “Well, this party’s turning out much better than I could have imagined,” she says.

“I’m glad.”

Her hands are moving across her boobs now, rubbing what’s left of the gooey mess into well-rounded, appetising bosom. “Lick me clean,” she says.

What’s a poor stripper supposed to do? I lean back in, dragging my tongue across her luscious breasts. Every last inch of her needs attention. I delight in the flavour of the cake, but more so in the curve of Topsy’s breasts, her huge fruity nipples. Her breathing is more in the nature of soft moans as I lap at her, making sure to tease her nipples, though there’s really no need anymore.

I’m still lapping away at a thrice-cleansed area of boob when the sound of a great commotion reaches us. There have been noises in the background all the time, but this is something else. I pull up. Topsy shrugs and smiles, making herself presentable once again. “We might as well see what’s going on,” she says.

The scene that greets us is beyond belief. In our absence, the situation between the other five women seems to have deteriorated. The desecrated birthday cake stands forlornly on the round table, with the five women nearby, shrieking at each other. Jacinta seems to have escaped unscathed, but the rest all have bits of cake clinging to their faces, and the redhead who was responsible for Topsy taking a dive into the cake is in the armchair previously occupied by Topsy, now topless herself, and with dollops of cream and jam all over her upper body.

Topsy nudges me in the side. “Why don’t you go and clean Marlene up,” she suggests. I look at her. She’s smiling. “Trust me, it’ll be fun.”

Why not? It’s Topsy’s birthday, after all, and the customer’s always right. I go across to the screaming women and try to inject some kind of fun into proceedings. “Superman to the rescue!”

I don’t look much like Superman, with my face still sticky and down to my man thong. My appearance does stop the girls from screaming at each other as they turn to look at me. Then great cheers break out as I lean over Marlene. She looks surprised, but not particularly reluctant as I scoop up splodges of cream from her tits with my lips.

The other women are whooping loudly as I slide my tongue across Marlene, making sure I clean her off quickly enough to discover the state of her nipples. Her boobs aren’t terribly big, but there’s a dark spread across a huge portion of them that isn’t just chocolate, the centrepieces more like the huge swollen teats on a cow than anything. The taste of cream and jam fills my mouth as I suck on them.

Then suddenly Marlene is pushing me away, screaming, “What the fuck are you doing?” I don’t understand. Not until she springs up from the chair and shouts, “You conniving skank, Desi!” She’s up, chasing the girl called Desi who’s clutching her phone, a dusky beauty in a stylish black dress and towering heels. The chase is understandably awkward. “Don’t you dare show those pictures to anyone!”

“I wonder what Ben would say!” Desi giggles out loud, which causes a stream of invective from Marlene. I gather that Ben must be Marlene’s boyfriend, or possibly husband. The others begin cheering for one or the other. If this group of women are supposed to be friends, they’re making a bad job of looking like it.

But there’s no time to consider things like this. Jacinta’s dress is falling to the floor. Underneath she’s wearing nothing but a pair of skimpy panties. “I want some of that action!” she says, looking me straight in the eye. Then she’s purposely grabbing fistfuls of ruined cake, smearing it across her bosom. “Please, Mr Superman, save me from the nasty, gooey stuff!”

It’s a stupid line, but strictly speaking, she’s the one who’s hired me, and what the customer wants the customer gets. I grab her boobs and lower my head. My tongue comes out and I drag it across her mammaries, sweeping up the sweet stuff. “You provide an excellent service, Mr Super Stripper Man,” Jacinta whispers.

I almost don’t hear her. There’s a hell of a noise coming from the other women, a combination of yelling and cheering. But with Jacinta pushing me into her boobs, I don’t care either. My lips and tongue are all over her breasts. I make sure I’ve cleaned her off as well as I can before letting my tongue flick at her swollen nipples. The sheer lewd depravity that’s erupted is quite something, but it’s a hell of a perk given that this was proving a difficult gig. I suck hard on Jacinta’s nipples, enjoying the fact that she’s actually purring with contentment.

“You absolute, fucking slut, Jacinta,” a voice says.

“You should try it!” Jacinta replies. I reward her by kissing my way all across her boobs. Then I give her the full weight of my moist tongue across her areola, feeling her erect nipples vibrate on my tongue. I suck on them hard, not caring about the commotion elsewhere, only the delicious treat of her slippery, sweet-tasting fruits.

Then someone is pulling on my man thong. I glance down in time to see Topsy spraying whipped cream from a can onto my cock. She smiles at me. “Just a little thank you,” she mouths.

Do I really need to tell you that my man thong has felt very constraining for a while now? There are still wild screams in the background, but I pay no attention, focusing on Jacinta’s hard nipples. She’s got her hands round her tits now, and is practically feeding me. All I care about is that and the feel of Topsy’s lips and tongue as she works her way up and down my shaft, cleaning off the mess she’s just made. Jacinta is breathing heavily, purring louder still. Once again I work my tongue all across her boobs, but losing concentration as Topsy’s tongue works its magic on my hard cock.

I become aware that the hubbub elsewhere in the room has subsided. Topsy’s lips are sliding right the way down my shaft. I respond by sucking hard on Jacinta’s nipple, rolling the other between my fingers. The other four women are standing round, watching, barely speaking. Except one voice that says, “Do you eat pussy too, Mr Super Stripper Man?”

I don’t answer, mainly because I’m finding it hard to tear myself aware from Jacinta’s teats, smeared all over with residue of cream and saliva. That and the feel of Topsy’s warm mouth all over my cock, saliva coating it as her tongue swirls. But I can feel the palpable tension in the room. I have no idea if they have boyfriends or husbands, except Marlene. But I can sense their excitement, even without one of them saying, “Fuck that is so hot!”

Another voice replies, “Fancy some of it, eh, Jessie?”

Then there’s bedlam again. Both Jacinta and Topsy pull away, standing on either side of me to watch as the other four women end up in a pile on the floor, shouting and screaming as they wrestle one another. “You’ve always been a fucking slag, Jessie!” a blonde in extremely tight jeans shouts.

“Fuck you, Vicky!” Jessie replies in a comically high-pitched voice.

“Get her knickers off!” another voice cries.

The heap of female bodies moves. Legs are kicking out. Then the tableau becomes clearer, with the girl called Jessie on her back, naked below the waste, save for the leggings and knickers that have been wrestled down as far as her platform shoes. She squeals, legs kicking, but any attempt to break free from Vicky and Desi holding her down is proving ineffective. “Get off me, you bitches!” she squeals, but her voice lacks authority, and her protests sound incredibly unconvincing. Long blonde hair is everywhere in disorganised strands. Rather unkindly it strikes me that she has about her the air of the archetypal dumb blonde. Take the dumbest blonde you’ve ever known and divide the number of brain cells by four, and you’d have Jessie. That doesn’t stop her from being totally hot, with a low-cut top.

“Give us a hand!” Marlene says, looking over to where I’m standing with Jacinta and Topsy. She’s got the can of whipped cream in her hand, and is shaking it. “Hold her legs!”

“What are you doing?” Jessie protests as Jacinta and Topsy take hold of a leg each, spreading them wide.

“What are you moaning about?” Marlene says. “You spread your legs all the time, you fucking skank!”

“No I don’t!” Jessie protests. But Marlene is kneeling, sticking the spout inside Jessie and letting rip. “That’s gross!” Jessie cries as cream fills her pussy.

“Don’t worry,” Jacinta says. “Mr Super Stripper Man will make you feel better.” She’s looking straight at me as Marlene gives a squirt on the outside of Jessie’s pussy for good measure.

Well, the customer’s always right. I get down on the floor between Jessie’s legs and dive straight in. Cream squishes against my lips and all round my mouth as my tongue comes out. The women cheer; all except Jessie, who protests, “I’ll get you back for this! Bitch!” She doesn’t sound very convincing, and it isn’t clear exactly who she’s addressing.

Having swiftly removed most of the cream from Jessie’s pussy lips. I edge my tongue between them. The little that remains turns into a squishy mess as I go, forming a slippery, oily sheen. I find her clit, lapping at it before sliding my tongue down to find the hole that’s been filled with cream. The stuff has already lost a lot of its texture, but that doesn’t stop me from digging my tongue into Jessie, enjoying the combination of synthetic dairy and pussy.

There’s loud cheering from everyone except Jessie, who just lays there, as if mesmerised by the feel of my tongue moving back and forth, teasing her hole and her clit in turn. Then a chant slowly forms, increasing in volume until it becomes an absolute imperative, “Fuck that skank! Fuck that skank! Fuck that skank!”

There’s no way of knowing whether or not Jessie would like that. If she’s trying to say anything at all, her voice is drowned out, and I’m fully focused on using my tongue to ease the slushy cream from her hole. Then Vicky’s voice silences the others, “Sssh! Sssh! Skank’s trying to say something.”

A sudden silence descends as Jessie says, “I’ll do it, if one of you does it first!”

“Hear that, girls!” Vicky yells. “Skank’ll let Mr Super Stripper Man fuck her! If one of us volunteers first? Any takers?”

“Fuck volunteers!” Marlene yells. “It’s payback time! Take Desi!”

“Hell no!” Desi cries. “I’ve got a boyfriend!”

“What about me?” Marlene retorts. “I want security!”

“Girls! Girls!” Jacinta cries out. “What happens in this room stays in this room!” A voice of some semblance of reason.

There’s a momentary lull until Marlene says, “Fine! But I still want to see Desi get fucked!”

Wild cheering breaks out. The women are moving, Desi grabbed and manhandled across the room, pushed down over a sofa. If I say she’s a big girl, what I mean is that under her loose fitting black dress it’s clear that she has incredible curves, that she’s all tits and arse.

Marlene pulls Desi’s dress up, revealing perfectly shaped, toffee-coloured buttocks. One of the other girls grabs Desi’s thong and pulls it to one side, revealing perfectly shaped pussy lips. It’s impossible not to reach out and get a feel of those huge buttocks, but I’m still slightly nervous that Desi doesn’t really want it.

“Go on, Mister Super Stripper Man,” Marlene says. “I wanna see you fuck that bitch!”

As my hands roam Desi’s buttocks other voices agree, “Fuck her good! Hit that snatch!”

I let my hands slide towards her pussy, still unsure.

“Don’t worry about a thing!” Marlene says. “She’s just a big slut really. She wants it all right!”

But how can I know? My hands skirt her pussy, sliding down to the insides of Desi’s obviously gym-enhanced thighs. Her legs shift a little. Then Vicky is standing next to me. She grabs my cock and guides it towards the spot. The bulb touches Desi’s labia. It strikes me that no-one is holding her down. Desi is staying put of her own volition. That’s a good sign.

Even better, Vicky says, “Go on! Fuck that cunt! Desi’s just a big slut.” She pauses. “Aren’t you Desi? You want it, don’t you?”

“Oh fuck,” Desi breathes. “Yeah! I want that big cock in me!”

This is greeted with wild cheers, which somehow spur me to join in the madness. I give Desi’s arse a hard slap. “What was that?” I say. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

This appeals to the women, who cheer louder than ever. Through the noise I hear Desi’s voice: “Stick that big cock up me!”

“What was that?” I say, spanking her anew.

“Fuck me!” Desi says, as the others shriek with delight.

“Give her cock!” Jacinta shouts, and the others take her lead chanting, “Give her cock! Give her cock!”

Well, the customer’s always right. I push in, my cock encountering a deliciously tight pussy. I allow myself the luxury of being slowly swallowed by her warmth, pushing slowly, all the way in.

“Fuck her! Fuck her!” the women chant. So I grip Desi tightly and begin thrusting. Juices rush to give an even better welcome. Now that I have my cock inside her there’s no reason to hold back. Spurred on by the chants from the others I make sure Desi takes it hard and fast.

It’s not the first time a strip has developed into something more, but this is definitely the most outrageous sequence of events I’ve been party to. There are all manner of obscene cries. “Fuck her! Shove your cock up that fucking skank!” “Stick a finger up her arse!”

Should I? Her tight pussy clenching hold of my cock drives all sense from me. Besides, the customer’s always right. I move a hand back, sliding it over her skin. The spray can of cream is there, a little dollop going on her anus. I slide my finger in. Desi’s pussy tightens still more. The others whoop and clap. Fuck, I could come in her right now, but I have another task ahead of me.

Now Vicky comes into view just in front of Desi. She’s stripped off her jeans, her knickers are pulled to one side. Catching my eye, her legs part, and she sticks two fingers up herself. I watch her as she watches me fucking Desi. Everything is complete bedlam.

Afraid that I can’t hold out much longer, I pull out of Desi. “Wasn’t there someone else I was supposed to fuck?” I ask loudly.

There are renewed cheers, wild movement. Suddenly Jessie’s on her back on the couch with her legs spread. The canister of cream appears, more of it is squirted into her pussy. I catch her eye. She doesn’t look at all reluctant now.

“Fuck that skanky cunt!” Vicky yells.

“Yeah!” Jacinta agrees. “Give the skanky whore a real good fucking!”

The lull has given my cock time to understand that it’s not yet time to cum. Jessie’s pussy is so full of liquefying cream that there’s hardly any friction at all. White foam oozes back out as I drive my cock into her. The women scream loudly. I work up a swift pace, giving it all that I’ve got. With every thrust Jessie gives a little squeak, “Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh.” Her pussy squishes with the sound of cream and pussy juice.

Desi is still in position beside us. Glancing to one side I can see her rubbing her clit. I reach out and stick fingers into her sopping fuck pit. She gives a long, feral moan. More loud cheers. I glance up. I see Vicky rubbing herself again, and now Topsy has joined her. Not rubbing her pussy, but stripped of her dress, standing there in just black hipsters and cradling her breasts, a great smile on her face.

She whispers something to Vicky, who smiles. Jessie’s still squeaking beneath me as I thrust my cock into her, “Oooh, ooh, ooh, ooh.” Beside me, Desi’s pussy is tightening, holding my fingers in a vice like grip. Her body shudders violently. There are loud cheers, clapping. Topsy smiles at me, moving forward to stare down at Jessie. “Fuck that skank!” she says.

The cry is immediately taken up as a chant. “Fuck that skank! Fuck that skank!”

Jessie squeaks, looking around. She looks as if she’s going to protest, but from somewhere a tube of chocolate sauce has emerged. Marlene squirts brown goo round Jessie’s mouth. Jessue squeaks. I slow down, moving slower as I lean over Jessie and begin licking the sweet, sticky stuff from her. The women cheer loudly as I let my tongue roam all over Jessie’s mouth and lips.

Everything is a bit of a blur now; six horny, crazy, drunk women who will do just about anything, or so it seems. But whatever they want from me, the customer’s always right. Voices shout and scream, cry out, chatter, almost impossible to make out, all blurring together. When I raise my head from having cleaned Jessie off, Topsy is there, leaning over the back of the sofa to kiss my own chocolate smeared lips. There are new cheers.

“Hey, Jessie, stop hogging the Stripper man, you skank!” Who said that? I can hardly distinguish their voices anymore, but I take it as a cue to withdraw from Jessie, watching as the woman’s hand instantly goes to her pussy, rubbing all over.

I’m still rising to standing when I feel a hand grip my cock. I look down just in time to see Jacinta’s lips engulf my cream and pussy juice coated member. Shit, this is insane. There are whoops and cheers. I can just about see everyone’s eyes on us as Jacinta thrusts her lips deep down my cock. I hear Jessie wheezing and focus on her, watching her body heave and shake as she cums, rubbing her pussy as she watches Jacinta suck her juices from my cock. Her cunt is a delicious mess of cream and other liquid.

As I stand there with Jacinta’s lips moving from the tip of my cock to the root and back again, I’m suddenly offered a pair of tits. Little mounds of cream adorn the nipples. It’s Vicky, legs apart, a finger in her snatch. I lean in, slowly using lips and tongue to remove the cream, gradually working my way through to each teat in turn. I suck on swollen nipples as Jacinta sucks on my cock.

Then Vicky is sinking to her haunches to take over from Jacinta. Jacinta holds my cock for Vicky to slide her tongue all over. Topsy appears in front of me. At some point she’s returned to the cake. Her boobs look exactly like they did at the start of all this, bits of cream, chocolate and jam clinging to her.

She offers me her tits. I get to work. Tongue roaming her large mounds, sweeping up goo. There’s cheering and clapping. Vicky’s tongue slithers along my shaft, cleaning up the last whatever’s there. I move my lips and tongue across Topsy’s breasts, cleaning up everything that’s there.

Then Vicky’s wrapping her tits round my cock. I sweep my finger across Topsy’s breast, scraping up the last of the jam and cream and offering it to her. She sucks on my fingers, looking at me with big, ready-for-anything eyes. Then she takes my hand and moves it down between her legs. I rub at her pussy through the flimsy material, feeling the warm damp. I let a finger creep inside the hem, touching her labia. The others are screaming and shrieking as Vicky mauls my cock with her tits, but I only have eyes for Topsy. She’s breathing heavily as I slide two fingers inside her wet quim.

Then I’m being dragged backwards, spun around. I’m face to face with Marlene, who’s long since overcome her previous reluctance. There are swirls of cream covering her areola. My head is pushed into her, and I go in search of her huge nipples with my tongue through the heap of white that spreads out across my mouth.

Not wanting to be left out, Vicky grabs my hand and moves it to her tits. She’s standing right next to Marlene. I grab a mouthful of cream from Marlene and deposit it on Vicky’s boob, smearing it all over her. There’s wild cheering. There’s are fingers round my cock; Topsy again, wanking me.

Then I’m being pulled round. Jacinta’s tongue is sweeping cream from my lips. Topsy’s hand is still round my cock. Desi appears at my side, pushing herself against me. Jacinta takes my hand and places it between Desi’s legs. I rub her pussy. Jacinta pulls away, making way for Jessie to sweep her tongue over my face. I finger both Desi and Jessie as Topsy keeps on wanking my cock.

“Greedy skanks!” Marlene exclaims. “You two have already had your pussies seen to. Let someone else in on the act!”

Topsy rises, only for Vicky to take her place, wanking my cock. Topsy moves round behind me and I feel her hot breath in her ear. “Don’t forget whose birthday it is,” she whispers. “If there’s one girl deserves a present…” She pushes herself against me, hard nipples against the skin on my back.

On either side of me, Desi and Jessie are moaning softly. Directly in front of me, Jacinta is sweeping one hand across her boobs, the other rubbing her crotch. Vicky drags her tongue along my cock. Now Marlene is frigging herself too. There’s not so much shrieking now, more lusty moans echoing through the room.

Vicky moves away. She’s over by the cake table, grabbing a fistful of the ruined construction. Then she sits down in the armchair, spreading her legs and smearing the cake over her pussy. “Come on, Mr Super Stripper Man,” she cries. “Have some cake!”

“Yeah! Do it!” Jacinta urges. “Eat her out!”

The customer’s always right, so I move across to Vicky, getting down on all fours and pushing my head in between her thighs. The others gather round, watching as I sweep my tongue over Vicky, grabbing at the bits of cream and sponge and jam with my lips. They’re all rubbing and frigging themselves now, as I lick and nibble my way through to Vicky’s ultimate tasty treat. Inside her pussy lips she’s awash with the sweet nectar of arousal. I slide my tongue into her, hearing moist pussies all around, intense moans, lusty gasps.

Someone’s cumming, but I can’t make out who. Orgasmic squeals ring out as I focus attention on Vicky’s clit. I lap at her as moans come at me from all sides. There’s no way of differentiating between them. I only know that Vicky’s cumming because she shoves my head into her cunt as her body judders. There’s even a little squirt from her, which I lick up gladly.

There’s a tiny lull, then Jacinta’s voice rings out. “What do you say, girls? Is it time for birthday girl to get her present?”

There are wild cries of agreement. Topsy takes Vicky’s place in the armchair, now completely naked. Marlene appears with the tube of chocolate sauce. Dollops are squirted on Topsy’s nipples, then linked. A line of chocolate is squirted between her boobs and down over her stomach, her navel, her pubes, and then a generous helping right on her labia.

I keep my eyes on Topsy’s. She’s smiling at me, her eyes bright; big, round fuck-me eyes. The chant goes up. “Eat that cunt! Eat that cunt!”

I get my head into position. I take my time devouring the chocolate covering, occasionally looking up to see the greedy desire in Topsy’s eyes. The longer I take over just lapping up the chocolate on her outside, the more desperate her eyes become. When I’ve devoured almost everything from her labia, Topsy reaches down, opening herself up for me.

To the sound of loud cheers I go straight for the hole, inserting my tongue, going as deep as I can and wriggling it around. I take my time here too, letting the combined taste of chocolate and pussy juice seep into my tongue. Only when a dollop of chocolate sauce is squirted onto Topsy’s clit do I move my tongue to the spot, sliding two fingers inside Topsy’s hole as I begin lapping at her sensitive clit.

There are still moans coming from the others, but more muted now, most of the attention focused on Topsy. Her body shifts in the armchair, and I can make out her moans above those of the others. I cleanse her of chocolate with my tongue, then suck on her swollen lust bud. Her vagina squeezes my fingers. Her breathing tells me she’s not far away, but I still have chocolate to remove.

I remove my fingers and begin working my way up her body, licking and kissing my way over her pubes and then her stomach, slowly cleansing her of the sticky sauce. Her body heaves under me as I work my way upwards, finally licking and scooping the sauce from between her boobs. With a little dollop on the tip of my tongue, I move my mouth closer to hers. Topsy uses her lips to suck the sauce from me. The other women cheer like mad. Topsy looks at me with eyes empty of everything but naked lust.

“Birthday fuck!” Marlene shouts.

There’s clapping, then a chant goes up. “Fuck that cunt! Fuck that cunt!”

I look Topsy in the eyes. She says nothing, but her big, round eyes are saying much the same thing. I get into position, starting work on the sauce that remains on her tits as I slide my hard cock into her.

“Fuck her hard! Fuck her hard!” the women chant as I begin moving. I work my cock inside her as my tongue roams her big, round breasts. Topsy breaths heavily as my cock slams into her, hitting her innermost depths. I squeeze her breasts with my hands, quickly working my way through the chocolate sauce so I can suck on her rock hard nipples.

Topsy gasps out loud. The women keep chanting. “Fuck her hard! Fuck her hard!” Topsy works a hand in underneath me, stroking herself as I drive my cock into her. Her other hand pushes on the back of my head, letting me know how much she enjoys me working my mouth on her tits. I use my tongue to flick at her nipples in turn as Topsy’s moans grow in intensity. Her body shifts beneath me.

And then she’s cumming. One long, drawn-out growl of a moan seems to last an eternity as her body shakes and shudders beneath me.

I’m close too, with no desire to let up, but behind me Desi says, “Here, Mr Super Stripper Man!”

I pull back, turning. Jacinta is holding a forlorn piece of sponge in both hands, with a smattering of chocolate and jam on top. She holds it in front of me as Desi grabs my cock. I glance at Topsy, who looks a little out of it as she recovers from her climax.

“Come on,” Desi says. “I bet you really want to cum, don’t you?”

I do. Desi doesn’t have to wank me for long before I’m fit to burst. Between them she and Jacinta make sure the load goes all over the piece of cake she’s holding.

“Here, birthday girl,” Jacinta says. “Time for you to eat cum cake! Happy birthday, girl!”

Topsy just reclines there. I’m not entirely sure if she’s up for this or not, but when Jacinta moves and holds the cake above her head, Topsy opens her mouth. I watch, enjoying the sight as Jacinta feeds Topsy the piece of birthday cake laden with my sperm. Topsy swallows it down to wild applause, then gives me a huge grin. “Thank you, Mr Super Stripper Man. Thanks for everything.”

I suppose there’s not much more to tell. I clean off and get dressed before handing out business cards. I have no idea how the women are going to clean the mess up, but that’s hardly my concern. Vicky and Jessie are giggling in a corner, both still topless. Somehow the looks I get suggest that these women will be providing more business, one way or another. Best of all, when I hand Topsy the card, she leans forward and whispers, “Do you do private sessions too?”

I grin. “I’m sure the Male Stripper Union frowns on it,” I say. “But give me a call and we can discuss it. Maybe I’ll be up for a bit of pro bono work.”

“Pro boner work, more like,” Topsy giggles.

So you see, it’s not all bad being a male stripper. The perks, when they come my way, are certainly more interesting than most, and when you get right down to it, everyone has to go through the drudgery of sorting their taxes out, right?

And while the job’s not exactly a piece of cake, it’s also the case that a man can never get enough of cake and boobs (and other assorted treats). Even if it occasionally means wearing a daft Superman outfit.