How I Became A Stripper

As I walked through the Gaslamp Quarter of downtown San Diego,

making my rounds for work, I checked in with local businesses,

ensuring public safety and maintenance standards just outside

were met. That night, I stepped into a new strip club, one I hadn’t

seen before. The neon lights cast a sultry glow, and the music

pulsed through the air like a heartbeat.

I met one of the owners—a broad-shouldered man with gray hair

and a salt-and-pepper beard. He was older, with a rugged build,

a deep voice, and a presence that commanded attention.

His employees stood nearby, watching as we discussed the

club’s security and cleaning needs.

But his eyes weren’t just assessing me for business; they

lingered. There was something in his gaze—intrigue, maybe

desire. I wasn’t naïve. The clientele here leaned toward men

who enjoyed the company of femboys, transwomen, and

crossdressers. I had a feeling he was trying to place me, and

then it clicked for him.

“I know you from somewhere,” he mused, a smirk tugging

at his lips.

It only took a moment before we realized where—

AdultFriendFinder or Pornhub. The realization sent a slow

heat crawling up my neck. I wasn’t exactly ashamed of my

side work, but hearing it spoken aloud in a professional

setting had a way of making my pulse quicken.

“Chrissy,” he said, tasting my stage name like a fine wine.

“You’ve got a body that shouldn’t be hiding behind those

boy clothes.”

 

I swallowed hard. “I present as male for work and in public… I’m still figuring things out.”

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping an octave. “Then why not embrace itIt wasn’t an unfamiliar request. I had stripped for plentyof men before, but

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I swallowed hard. “I present as male for work and in public…

I’m still figuring things out.”

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping an octave. “Then

why not embrace it here? Show me.”

It wasn’t an unfamiliar request. I had stripped for

plenty of men before, but this was different—this

was an invitation,

not just an exchange. With a steadying breath, I peeled off

my jacket, my work vest, then my uniform shirt. The club

was dimly lit, but I could still see the way his expression

shifted as I revealed my toned, smooth torso. My t-shirt

followed, then my pants.

I stood there in just my lace panties and a delicate bra,

my body framed by the club’s sultry lighting. His breath

hitched.

“Damn,” he murmured, his eyes raking over every inch of

me. “Turn around.”

I obeyed, feeling the heat of his gaze like a caress.

 

“Nice ass,” he whistled appreciatively. “You should be showing it off, not hiding it.”

I turned back to face him, heart pounding. “What are you saying?”

 

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“Nice ass,” he whistled appreciatively. “You should be

showing it off, not hiding it.”

I turned back to face him, heart pounding. “What are

you saying?”

“I think you should work here,” he said smoothly. “You’ve

got the body, the presence… you just need a little polish.

One of my gurls will show you how to move, and trust

me—you’ll make a killing.”

The proposition sent a thrill through me, a mix of

excitement and nervous energy. The idea of performing,

of being desired openly, of stepping into a space where

I wasn’t just tolerated but celebrated—it was intoxicating.

“Come by Saturday night,” he continued. “We’ll doll you

up, teach you the ropes.”

There was a pause, thick with tension. His eyes

darkened with something unspoken, something electric.

“Can I…” he hesitated just long enough to make it

deliberate. “Touch you?”

I nodded, my pulse hammering in my throat as his hands

found their way to my waist, firm yet careful. His touch

was exploratory, lingering, as if memorizing the curves I

had long hidden beneath my uniform. His lips, soft and

warm but tickled me because of his beard, locked around

mine, he almost swallowed my mouth whole, his tongue

was shoved down my throat, exploring every square inch

of my insides. I could feel him pinching my butt cheeks.

"This might be a bit bold," he said, "but would you

suck my dick?"
"Wow!" I exclaimed. "You are bold! But sure."

 

As he unzipped his pants and pulled out his long,

hard penis, with such a sexy mushroom head, I kneeled

down and opened my mouth wide. He placed his cock

between my lips then thrusted it into my throat, thrusting

over and over, fucking my face. I in turn sucked and

started groping it, groping the shaft up and down over

and over, squeezing the head with my lips. Then suddenly

....BOOM! Squirt. Squirt. Squirt. He exploded in my mouth

and the tasty man juice started sliding down my throat.

He let out a satisfied moan and yell.

 

After wiping the excess semen off my lips, I went to the nearby bathroom

After wiping the excess semen off my lips, I went to the

nearby bathroom and washed my mouth off with

mouthwash then put my clothes back on. "I have to get

back to work," I told him.

 

"I can't wait until you work here," the man replied. "We're gonna have a lot of fun. See you Saturday."

"I can't wait until you work here," the man replied. "We're

gonna have a lot of fun. See you Saturday."

That night, I left the club with my heart racing and

my mind buzzing. Saturday loomed before me, a door

opening to a world I had only danced on the edges of.

And for the first time in a long time, I was ready to

step inside.

 

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