Chapter 36 #2
As the song wound down, he strutted back to center stage. After a final flap of his wings, he took a dramatic bow, bending at the waist like a hinge. He blew a few kisses to the crowd and disappeared behind the curtain.
Enzo stepped to his mic on the stage wing. “Everyone give our horny little Cupid Dom some love.”
The audience offered polite applause. “That’s all you got?” Enzo swept his arms upward. “Tonight’s our last show! Let’s have some enthusiasm!”
The crowd cheered and whistled. A few woos rang out through the club.
“That’s more like it. Now, I know why you’re all here tonight.
To feast your eyes on some muscle. To slake your thirst with testosterone.
To make a few deposits into your spank bank.
” He laughed along with the audience. “But first, allow me to introduce the esteemed owner of this fine establishment, Virgil Glass.”
Virgil stepped out from behind the curtain, wearing one of Enzo’s glittery rainbow blazers. Enzo handed him the mic, and he walked to the center of the stage. A single spotlight illuminated him.
“Thank you all for coming out tonight. I opened The Firehouse in 1989. That was a very different time. Back then, men needed places to meet where they could be safe. Where they could make friends – the men they’d come to consider their family.
Now guys meet on hookup apps, or by sliding into each other’s DMs. Or so I’m told. ”
Light laughter rippled through the audience.
“Community is still important, maybe now more than ever. Places like The Firehouse are still needed. But I’m getting old, and it’s time to pass the torch.
After tonight, The Firehouse will close its doors for renovations.
When it re-opens in December, it will be a shiny new burlesque club called Siren.
The man whose creative vision is shaping that club is Blake Larsen, who most of you know as Dirk Slocum. ”
A few men in the audience chanted, “Dirk, Dirk, Dirk,” which brought a smile to Virgil’s lips.
“All the proceeds tonight are going to Siren, so please give generously because––” Virgil’s voice cracked, and his eyes welled with tears. He wiped them away with a chuckle. “Because if I’ve met anyone in this business who deserves a chance to shine, it’s Blake Larsen.”
Virgil held out his hand to Blake, who hoisted himself onto the stage and took the mic.
“Hi, everyone. Thank you for your generous donations, and your bids in the silent auction. Every bit helps, and every penny will go toward making Siren the best it can be.”
Blake scanned the crowd and locked eyes with Ethan.
“Ever since I was a little boy, I dreamed of being a pop star. I’d watch music videos by Rihanna, and Lady Gaga, and Britney Spears, and I would learn all the words and memorize the dances.
All I’ve ever wanted to do is perform. But I didn’t think I’d ever have the chance to open my dream burlesque club.
And I wouldn’t have been able to without the help of my business partner, Ethan.
Siren is our club, and we can’t wait to show you everything we have planned.
I’ll stop talking now so we can start the show. Enzo?”
While the audience applauded and cheered, Blake handed the mic back to Enzo. He paused for a final glance over his shoulder before heading backstage.
Ethan was struck by how bittersweet this moment must be for Blake.
It was exciting, for sure, because soon they’d have the building to themselves and could begin renovations.
But this club had been his home for years, where he tended bar and danced several nights a week.
Every inch of the place must be steeped in memories.
“Is everyone ready for a great show?” Enzo said, but the rest of his words were lost in the cheers of the crowd as Ethan slipped down the back hallway.
Passing the line forming outside the bathroom and the couple that was making out near Virgil’s office, Ethan entered the dressing room and stopped dead in his tracks.
It was the first time he’d experienced the pre-show chaos.
A choking cloud of body spray and cologne hung in the air like fog. Everywhere he looked, half-dressed men laughed and horsed around, slapping each other’s asses or flinging jockstraps at each other. Ethan counted no less than three naked, swinging dicks.
Blake sat at his station, chatting with Tenny while he dabbed concealer on the dark circles under his eyes. As Ethan maneuvered through the crowded room, a few of the guys greeted him, and more than a few looked him up and down.
When he got to Blake’s station, he stood behind him, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “Hey.”
Blake’s face lit up with a smile. “Hey.”
“Are you nervous?”
“A little.”
“Great turnout. The bar is packed.”
“About that.” Blake spun around and took Ethan’s hands. “We have a trick for making every show feel personal, especially for a full house. We pick a guy in the audience to dance for, because if we can make it special for him, it’ll be special for everyone. Tonight, I’m dancing for you.”
How could he just say sweet things like that? Those words warmed Ethan from the inside, like the first sip of piping hot coffee on a winter morning. Tears pricked his eyes. He leaned down and wrapped his arms around Blake’s shoulders. “Thank you,” he mumbled into his neck. “You’ll be great.”
After a quick goodbye, he hurried out of the dressing room. Ethan wasn’t well-versed in all the superstitions of the theater world, but shedding tears in front of the show’s star had to be bad luck.
Ethan watched the show from the bar, nursing a Manhattan. He wanted some distance from the rowdy men clustered around the runaway. Fueled by a night of drinking and provocative performances, they’d become a bit handsy for his liking.
Steel was wrapping up his number, humping the stage with slow, sinuous pelvic thrusts.
It was a lewd, but impressive, display of his core strength.
The minute the music stopped and he arched his back, presenting his bare ass to the audience, hands holding dollar bills shot into the air.
Steel collected his tips as he left the stage, pushing his crotch into spectators’ eager faces.
When Steel disappeared behind the curtain, the lights went dark, and a single spotlight illuminated the stage.
Blake stepped into the circle of light, dressed like a sexy schoolboy, a blue blazer and striped necktie worn over his bare chest, and khakis so form-fitting you could tell he was circumcised.
A school bell rang, and the opening chords of Britney Spears’ “…Baby One More Time” boomed through the club. Blake danced down the runway, recreating Britney’s classic moves, and when he began to sing, the crowd erupted into cheers and raucous applause.
It was impossible not to get swept up in the joy of Blake’s performance, and soon Ethan’s shoulders were bouncing in time with the beat.
His chest swelled with pride at how Blake commanded the audience, with his honey-smooth singing voice, energetic dancing, and effortless sex appeal.
When Tenny and Aston Martins joined Blake on the stage, another part of him swelled.
Ethan shifted in his seat as his stiffening cock got trapped in a fold of his underwear. He still couldn’t believe this was Blake’s job – being surrounded by gorgeous, masculine men who took their clothes off. Soon, this would be his job, too.
For the first time, the reality of what they were doing sank in. It was right in front of him, sweaty and half-naked. He’d be in the business of selling sex. A sexual fantasy, at least.
The guys quickly lost their jackets, and the dancing gave way to steamier moves. Simulating a threesome, the men ran their hands over each other’s chests, and used their neckties to pull each other close for filthy kisses and body rolls.
At the climax of the song, they strutted downstage and tore away their pants, revealing red sequined jockstraps and driving the crowd wild.
The smile fell from Ethan’s face when the trio collected their tips. He wasn’t a fan of seeing the guys – especially Blake – thrust their hips and push their naked asses into the faces of the men gathered around the runway.
He hated the bawdy, disrespectful catcalls of the guys drooling over the performers. Hated how they slipped their fingers into the dancers’ jocks as they tucked dollar bills under the waistbands.
When Blake reached the end of the runway, Ethan couldn’t miss that he had a hard-on. How could he not get hard, with all the guys touching him and cupping his ass cheeks?
They weren’t boyfriends anymore, but he couldn’t stand the idea of strangers casually grazing Blake’s dick.
Blake scanned the crowd, ignoring the dollar bills being waved in front of him. When his eyes met Ethan’s, he smiled – his wide, goofy “aw, shucks” smile, not his sultry, fuck-you-with-his-eyes smile. He pointed at Ethan and placed a hand over his heart before he went back to collecting tips.
He was performing for me.
The thought briefly warmed Ethan’s heart.
But as he swirled his cocktail on the bar, the cold reality of his father’s warning asserted itself.
Running any business with an ex would be challenging, but in this line of work, he’d routinely see his business partner nearly naked.
He’d watch audience members having sexual fantasies about Blake in real time.
There might be other nights like tonight, when he’d have his hands on Blake’s body, massaging firm, oil-slick muscles, and feeling Blake’s nipples harden as his fingers brushed over them…
Ethan felt a subtle pulse in his half-hard dick. Pre-cum. By the end of the night his underwear would be a streaky mess.
How could he be professional given this level of temptation? He wasn’t made of stone.
He guzzled what was left of his drink and ordered another.
He’d spent weeks working on sales projections for their business plan, but still missed the most obvious projection: the one in his jeans whenever he was around a shirtless Blake for more than five minutes.