Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 122896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 614(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 614(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
“Man, you have freckles everywhere, don’t you?” Abby murmured as she slathered the baby oil all over his ass cheeks.
Besides being teased for being a redhead when he was a kid, he also had hated his freckles because someone was always making a joke about them. As an adult no one gave a shit, so he no longer did, either. Since there was nothing he could do to change it, he had no choice but to accept them.
Only his MC brothers—and sometimes his fellow police officers at Southern Allegheny Regional PD—busted his balls about it now. Not to be bullies like kids could be, but because it was very normal, and even expected, for them to all bust on each other. Fucking with each other over the stupidest shit only made their brotherhoods stronger. It also helped lighten situations when shit got heavy and dark.
Abby evenly rubbed the oil down his legs. “I’m not going past your ankles since you’ll be wearing black rubber-soled boots for your dances. Did you bring a pair?”
“Yeah. Wore them here.”
“Turn around.”
He clenched his molars together so hard a muscle jumped in his cheek, but when he turned and her eyes immediately dropped to his flaccid cock with raised eyebrows, he said, “I can do the front myself.”
“I can do the front,” Abby insisted, pushing away his outstretched hand. “You can oil your own front once you get the hang of how much to use. It has to be the correct amount. You don’t want to be greasy but you also need that shine.”
With a frown, he stared at her. “How’d you get this job?”
She shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.”
He picked a spot over her head on the other side of the room as she rubbed the whole front of him down, coming close to his junk but not touching it.
“You need to trim closer next time. And if you do peek-a-boos with your cock, then you should be bare.”
Peek-a-boos with his damn cock.
“I’ll take that into consideration,” he muttered.
The only peek-a-boos he was willing to do was when it appeared and disappeared as he sunk it into a warm, wet pussy.
When she was finished she rose to her feet and smiled up at him. “Okay, all done. I’ll go grab you a clean jock. You’ll need to start out in the white tank, black socks, your black boots and break-away Dickies. Also, don’t forget to wear a belt. You can grab one of the fluorescent vests near the door on your way to the stage. But give it a few before you get dressed to give the baby oil a chance to soak in a bit first.”
She turned and walked back to an open portable trunk in the corner. He continued to stare at a non-existent spot across the room to avoid meeting the other guys’ eyes while he stood there totally naked.
He was going to kill Crew.
He was just going to fucking kill him. The bastard was probably sitting at home with his feet kicked up, drinking a fucking beer and laughing about where Finn was and what he was about to do.
Asshole.
Then Abby was back, holding out a jock. “That should be your size. Try it on.”
Gladly. He yanked them up his legs and adjusted everything into place while Nick’s assistant watched him like a hawk. It was almost as if she didn’t think he’d know how to wear a jock strap. Since he’d played baseball all through high school, he knew how to fucking wear one.
“Make sure your VPL is emphasized.”
What? “VPL?”
“Visual penis line. The more distinct it is and the bigger your cock looks, the more tips you’ll bring in, whether artificially enhanced or not.”
Because, yeah, that was his fucking goal, to show off the size of his dick for money. When he went shopping for the underwear Nick recommended, it had been eye-opening.
He never realized such a large selection of bulge-enhancing underwear with ball pouches existed. Actual pouches that separated his cock and balls to emphasize the assets passed onto him through genetics.
“So, if you’re not going to dance fully erect, then you at least need to have a chubby.”
He didn’t remember seeing that requirement in the employee handbook.
Maybe because there was no fucking employee handbook. It was possible that Crew had told Nick not to tell him all these details because he would’ve backed out.
“What happens if I don’t?”
“Nick could fire you and the ladies might laugh at you. Nick’s in business to make money and you’re here to make money, too. The sad fact is, the bigger the dong, the bigger the tips.”
Great. “Is there somewhere I can go to… uh… wake myself up?”
Abby flung a hand out. “Just do it anywhere. We’re all used to doing what needs to be done before a show. Nobody will care what you have to do to get it done.”