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(Stripper's New Sissyboy, ch1)
TJ Ryder
Nobody looking at me would believe my wife Bambi and me
as a couple. Mainly because I'm an ordinary looking guy,
smallish, thin, mid thirties. In fact I look like the bookkeeper
everyone usually thinks I am when. That's how we met.
Bambi, my wife, is my own age, but that's all we have in common
except each other. She's a blonde dish who works as a receptionist
at Starlight Entertainment which is where I met her, hired to do
their annual audit. I would never have approached her if her boss
hadn't asked me to help her out with her personal bookkeeping.
Her boss Ron Silverman runs Starlight for some corporation
in Nevada, I don't ask too many questions about that, and one day
we were sitting in his office. He arranged gigs for lots of
showgirls and black acts, and showed me some early pictures of
Bambi, because he knew I dropped pencils everytime she came into
the office.
"See that, Harry, here's her first picture, when she came into the
office 15 years ago."
I looked, swallowed. She wasn't blonde then, a brunette, but with
those big firm 40D-cup breasts she still had, and full lips and teasing
expression. I noticed the name said Jane Pulaski.
"Quite a babe then, still is of course, but not a headliner any
more.
I chose her name, Bambi Foxx, had her hair and teeth done, but not
her boobs, nope, those are all natural. Of course now she has to
exercise an hour a day to keep it. Lately, with all the amateurs in
the trade, and the kids and silicone, her career isn't the same any
more.
How you doing on her taxes?"
"Um, almost done, sir, she owes a bit."
"Your'e a good accountant, Harry. Steady and honest. Say, you
know what, why don't you go out with Bambi? Pretty obvious you
dig her."
I sputtered in my coffee, "ulp, um, sir, I doubt if she'd, well I
mean I think she has someone." That was true, I know receptionists
in talent agencies are hired for their looks and shall we say,
friendly dispositions, but I had seen her getting and accepting
dates and invitations from several of the black athletes and
gamblers who hung around the rap singers that Ron booked.
"What are you talking about? She'd just love to go out with you.
Your'e the kind of steady influence babes like her need in their lives.
She's divorced from her third marriage, no kids, her finances are in
a mess from the last no-good she married. Lots of my exotic dancers
wise up around her age if theyr'e lucky. In fact, let me show you
another one," he said, as he opened a file cabinet and took out a
photo.
"Here's a pic of one of her friends, her stage name is
Debbie Delight! See that, maybe youv'e seen her around.
I stared at a voluptuous redhead in g-string and pasties, and I had
gaped at her when she and Bambi went out to lunch together sometimes.
"Debbie, sure you know her, they started pretty much the same time,
and Debbie's been doing real well since she married Wally Ringgold,
he works in the club bookings."
I was surprised at that. Wally was a lot like me and I couldn't see
them together. But I was surprised she was married in the first place.
It seems that I had seen Debbie and Bambi go on double dates with
black studs.
"Oh, um, I really didn't know she was married."
"She's been married for 2 years now to Wally. I introduced them and
she's been doing fine since. Oh you mean because you see her going on
dates?" I sheepishly nodded, blushing a little and he laughed, lighting
a cigar.
"Hey that's nothing in this crazy business. Marriages in the
entertainment industry gotta be flexible. Sure she has boyfriends on
the side, you expect it with a babe like that. Or are you saying
because she only dates black?"
I stammered I didn't know that, however I only saw black males
dating either of these gorgeous women.
"Sure, lots of hot babes have black studs on the side. They still
can make great wives and girlfriends, if you accept reality, or
at least pretend not to notice it. Where do you think Mrs.
Silverman is right now?"
"I'm sure I wouldn't, um, have any idea, sir." I knew Ron's
wife was 25 years younger than he was, a ex stripper herself who
became his fourth wife last year.
Ron leaned back in his leather chair, blowing a smoke ring. "She
is right now, with the biggest black cock in the city. I'm paying for
her spa at the Mandingo Social Club. They got huge muscular masseuses
there with 12 inches of cock each. I'm paying at least a thousand
dollars for her afternoon there, every Tuesday. I feel good that I can
give her so much pleasure. That's part of our contribution to a
good marriage, Harry. Why do you think a knockout babe like
that would marry a skinny pencildick like me?" I think he wanted
to say us but changed his mind, as my mind reeled, as well as my
being titillated by the thought of his luscious wife being stretched by
a foot long black sausage at this moment.
I forget how the meeting ended, but the message played through my
head day and night, reliving it. The yearly audit was almost over
before I finally worked up the nerve to ask Bambi out. She was
reaching for a file, and I wanted to help her but I had gotten an
enormous hardon sitting at my desk watching her cleavage, how her
sheer form-fitting dress hugged her curves, making her big breasts
move with every key stroke. All I could think of for the last week
was her and her girlfriend Debbie humping big black bucks mixed in
with images of Ron coming home to a wife who had spent the afternoon
taking black cock.
"Um, Miss Foxx," and she giggled, looking back at me.
"Must be important, Harry, you used to call me Bambi."
"Um, not, um, important like that. I was just wondering, if,
well you know, you and I could...this Saturday?"
She was puzzled, but smiled finally, "a date? You want a date,
Harry, is that it?" I blushed and nodded, and she bit her lip,
thinking of it. "Actually I was kind of hoping you would ask me out, but
this Saturday is kind of an awkward time."
"Oh, well, perhaps, another..."
"No, it's fine, but it would have to be late, I have a dancing
gig I should be through with by 11. Debbie and I are doing
a black fraternity on Ashcroft. You could pick me up afterwards
if you like, because we usually take one car, her husband is
manager of the act and would have to cross town to drive me
home."
I was a little confused and flustered. I agreed to it, and
the next couple of days she was much more friendly. She even invited
me along to lunch with Debbie. Being with two megababes got me
some serious envious states as we were seated in this medium priced
restaurant. And I was surprised at the flattery I got from Debbie.
"Iv'e been telling Bambi all year she should hook up with someone
like you," she said, eating her salad, her cleavage deep enough to
get stares from across the room but she was used to it. Bambi
frowned and told her to be quiet.
"I mean," she said, slapping her friend's arm, "all I mean't was
you worked at the agency so you know the score and girls
like us going black, so it's no surprise and all." I looked at
Bambi, blushing a little, but only got a smile back. So I nodded.
"After all," she said, sipping a dry wine, "Bambi never meets
whiteboys any more outside the club. And anyone she does meet
wouldn't accept, you know." I nodded, pretending understanding
so nobody would be uncomfortable.
"Deb," Bambi said, "it's our first date, for crying out loud."
"Okay, okay, sure. It'll be late though. Wev'e played at Stud
Central, that's what the black guys call their fraternity, before.
Maybe you could keep Ron company while we work."
Bambi was doubtful about that.
"You mean we would see your act?" To be honest I was definitely
aroused by the idea of seeing them. However Debbie smiled and shook
her head.
"Not at the black clubs, honey, no whites allowed, I mean white
males that is. No, my husband Wally books it, drives us there,
gets us ready, and waits up the highway at the SideRoom Taphouse
with the phone for when wer'e ready to leave. He'd love to have
company." I was disappointed but I had nothing else to do except
hang out until late anyway, so I nodded, agreeing and saying I'd be
happy to be there.
Bambi electrified me by patting the back of my hand, offering a
conciliatory smile, "you can watch us another time, all our gigs aren't
black clubs"
Debbie giggled, "not for lack of trying anyway."
************************************************************** *
Saturday night Wally and I were at the Sideroom Bar and I
realized I had seen him around the agency a couple of times.
We were getting along pretty good, and he was professional at getting
them started, while I helped carry their costumes inside the fraternity;
and such a lot of big young black muscular grinning faces I had
never seen before. They were already whistling and patting their butts
and feeling up the girls as they paraded into their dressing room.
Afterwards we were politely but firmly told to come back
later, so I followed Wally 3 miles up the freeway to the Sideroom. I
was reluctant to leave, as the girls were just about to change, and their
look of eager anticipation was contagious, but was not about to challenge all
the huge ebony muscle around us.
We had exchanged pleasantries back and forth, talking about the
agency and business and all. Wally said he would never have taken
me inside there if I wasn't in the scene, as he put it.
"I'm really glad your'e here, Harry. This will be a couple hours,
maybe three or four."
"Does their act go on that long"
He laughed, "their act is 45 minutes, tops. After that it's
socializing, haw, haw. Man," he said, straightening his erection in his
pantleg right in front of me, "theyr'e probably starting that pretty soon.
Wish you could be there to watch, huh? Me too. Some clubs allow it actually."
The impact was setting in, and I was glad the bar was dark so my
red face wasn't that obvious.
"Yup," he smiled, taking a sip of light draft, "I wish I could see
it, starting right about now," looking at his watch."The girls got a
hot act and those young, big, black pistons were hard when we got there,
buddy. Our girls have a lot of rigid black meat to soften up before we
get the cleanup call. Which of course(chuckle) they don't mind much.
Nope, this fraternity gig is one of their favorites all right.
Lowering his voice with a wink, he smiled,
"Truth be told, Silverman don't like the girls at black clubs and
fraternities, not enough money he says. Fact is they'd probably do it
for nothing except Silverman would just go nuts. As it is we hardly make a
dime on it."
"Um, what," I asked, discreetly arranging my own hardon because his
imagery was having its effect.
He laughed, "don't worry, they'll be through in three hours or
so. I'd offer to play cards but I can't concentrate when Debbie is
getting her black cock quota, don't know about you but that's the way I am.
They'll be stretched, sore and swamped when we get the call. All we got
to do when I get beeped is collect them and all their stuff, and make sure
you get it all because those costumes are expensive. Normally I put them
both in the back seat and go to the Red Roost over in Astin. Theyr'e real
hungry afterwards, I mean after we get on our knees for a while.
Nice secluded parking lot and not too far from the fraternity.
But that's up to you and the girls. They do appreciate a good cleaning
session after a night like this, and naturally," he laughed,
"so do we, right buddy?"
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