Undercover - Chapter 02

Eager to prove himself, Kyle has always wanted to go on a risky undercover mission. Finally, the police department has found the perfect job for him. The straight jock will have to play the role of a male stripper to infiltrate a drug cartel. Little does he know that this is only the beginning of his (hot) journey.

UNDERCOVER

Chapter 2: The Man of Steel

I was supposed to meet with the "Man of Steel" in a gay club on Friday night.

Captain Gordon had told me to go there as Ryan Smith. I needed to get a feel of my new identity and personality.

From this point on, I was Ryan, an aspiring stripper who had no ambition other than making a ton of money by shaking his butt.

Officially, I had required a paid lesson from a legend in this field.

The Man of Steel, A. K. A. Allan, had no idea that I was a cop and he had simply been told this had to remain discreet.

As a professional stripper, he knew how to keep secrets so this was no big deal.

Despite the circumstances, I was super excited as it would be the very first time I would be properly going "undercover."

Just holding my fake passport was a thrill.

Sure, the first step was to learn how to get naked in front of an audience, but it was an important mission nonetheless.

I was introduced to Peter Thorne during the afternoon. He would be my partner all throughout the assignment.

Peter was a 50 years-old man, with a fat belly from his dad-body, and an untrimmed ginger beard.

He had come especially from Florida for this and he would be coming with me to San Antonio. He was a special agent and was used to assist cops going undercover.

According to him, I was his sixteenth mission.

"And not a single failure." He proudly claimed.

He told me what I should wear and gave me a few advice for playing my character.

He also showed me where the few cameras and mics had been set up in my place.

This was meant to condition me before I moved to San Antonio where I would be monitored all the time.

"Don't feel too weird about the cameras. We're not watching your moves 24/7. This system is only there so we can review the footage if anything were to happen."

"And I suppose the one in my bathroom is necessary?"

He smiled.

"Are you a prude or something?"

"Nah, I just feel bad for anyone who'll have to see me shit." I snapped back.

He laughed.

I liked Peter, he was a true professional and he was my direct boss but he was not taking himself too seriously.

I guess that part of his job was to make me feel comfortable trusting him.

"Since the mission will imply a lot of taking your clothes off, it's better that we rip that bandage off right away. Can you change into this? Your outfit for tonight."

He handed me a sleeveless tank-top, a tiny pair of yellow boxer briefs, and a pair of jeans.

The jeans were too tight compared to what I would normally wear, but overall, I could have pulled this outfit as myself.

It was not too different from my everyday style.

I was a bit surprised that Peter was asking me to change right in front of him, but I did not challenge the orders.

He was right, he would get to see me naked soon enough anyway.

Funny to think that my shameless attitude had been the one thing which had landed me the undercover mission I had been dreaming for most of my life.

Who could have known they would need an exhibitionist?

"How am I supposed to act with Allan tonight?" I asked while peeling my tee-shirt off.

"Like a straight guy who wants to make a bit of money. Listen, we've made sure your character wouldn't be too different from who you are. You shouldn't be playing a part constantly."

I took my jeans off and my underwear went down with my pants.

I almost covered myself up but then, I remembered that I had to learn to be comfortable in front of Peter.

I took everything off in one go, and I let my fat uncut cock hang there.

Ryan Smith was certainly shameless so I had to be as well. Besides, we were between men.

"Got it. I'm basically me with the only slight difference that I've gone for stripping instead of law enforcement." I summed up.

Peter was ostentatiously staring at my cock. I assumed it was another sort of a test.

He smirked at me.

"Exactly. And from what I can see, you've got everything to be the perfect Ryan Smith already."

I ignored his last comment and got myself into the yellow boxer briefs.

They were way too tight and sliding inside my ass crack.

"I think those are too small."

"They're not. We know your sizes. Our choices were deliberate." Peter told firmly, not leaving any room for debate.

I finished dressing up, feeling like I was about to whore myself out.

I kind of was.

I checked myself in the mirror. I had not changed much but it did feel like I had put on a costume.

"Does this look okay?" I asked, trying to hide my nerves.

"You look perfect. Good job! One of the things we'll have to be mindful of is whether we should wire mics on your body. It might be trickier than usually since you may have to take your clothes off often during the mission."

"Oh yes, right... I hadn't thought about this."

"We'll cross that bridge when we'll get to it. Don't worry."

"What about tonight?"

"You'll meet with a nobody stripper who believes he's famous. There's no need to record anything that will happen at the club. Literally, just learn how to move your body, man. It's the job interview next week that you'll have to nail."

"I'll try..."

Dallas did not have a ton of gay clubs but the "Man of Steel" was a super-star in each one of them.

I, for one, would be entering a gay establishment for the very first time in my life.

I did have a cringy thought parking there, I was afraid that someone would recognize me. One of my bros who would think that I had turned homo...

Although, if they were seeing me there, it would mean that they were attending the club themselves.

Besides, I had to learn to own up to it.

It was only for the good of the assignment after all.

Allan had asked me to be there around 11 PM to watch his first performance. The idea was for me to see him in action, and then, I could take a private lesson backstage once he would be done.

I arrived at about 9:45 PM and the place was already quite crowded.

It was not only a club; people were mostly there to enjoy a drink and have some fun at the bar.

There was a karaoke playing and a drag queen cleverly named "Nona Bynaree" hosting the show.

You did not get it? Non-Binary.

Anyway.

I did not even know that there were drag queens in Dallas, Texas.

I got stared at as soon as I walked in, which, I suppose, was a rather good sign for the mission to come.

I sat down on a stool at the bar and ordered a beer.

The bartender was certainly the youngest guy around me. Otherwise, the place was mostly occupied by older hairy men. Bears.

Yes, I knew some of the lingo.

"Here you go, handsome!" The shirtless bartender told as he handed me my drink.

"Thanks."

Honestly, I was not really in my element and I think that he could tell.

For that reason alone, it was important for me to be there so I would not be as shaky in San Antonio.

To be fair, the damn boxer briefs were smashing my junks (they were supposed to enhance my bulge) and rubbing against my crack.

A pair of tight underwear was certainly an appropriate attire for a stripper, but I thought that Peter had gone a little bit too far on this one.

My cock and balls needed some space to breathe! I was quite big down there.

Thankfully, the drag queen on stage was pretty funny and it was distracting enough.

Also, I am not going to lie, I enjoyed how the customers were eyeing me out. My biceps were all out in the sleeveless tank-top, and it was definitely to their liking.

I even got a few of them offering me a drink.

I mindlessly flexed to see if I could get more looks.

I did. Neat!

After a while, I had almost forgotten the reason why I was there, very much entertained by the drag queen and one of the clients in a Borat bathing-suit singing "I will always love you" from Whitney Houston to the crowd.

Say what you will about the gay community, but those guys sure know how to have fun!

At 11:15 though, the hostess had stopped singing and she made an important announcement.

"Guys, are you ready for the show to steam up a little?"

The excited crowd yelled their enthusiasm.

The place was even busier now, a lot of guys had arrived in the last hour.

It was a Friday night in the middle of June, people were eager to party and to let loose after a long week of work.

I think I recognized one of my teachers from High-school amongst the customers. He was quite drunk already.

"Please, welcome to the stage... The one and only... The Man of Steel!"

The cheers got louder.

Although, the word "stage" might have been an overstatement for the white cube with a pole which stood out in the center of the dance floor.

The stripper had to walk through the customers to get to it.

As soon as I saw Allan walking on the platform in his rainbow latex suit, I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Not that he was not delivering a great performance, but suddenly, I saw myself in his spot and I was not sure I was capable of doing it.

Stripping was not something one could simply improvise.

On the tune of "Born this Way" by Lady Gaga, Allan started shimmering lasciviously on stage.

He was cultivating his resemblance with Superman and he frankly looked exactly the part. Down to his face, his hair, his attitude... He was an almost exact doppelganger.

As for his body, that man was built like an actual super-hero, a Greek God of some sort.

The latex outfit glued to his muscles was enhancing his incredible physique in the most outrageous way possible.

I had gone to bodybuilding competitions once or twice in my youth, - not to participate myself since I thought the bodybuilder looks was not as appealing to women, but to support a gym mate who was competing -, and believe me, Allan would have beaten everyone there to the punch.

He was simply huge and that fact became even more evident as he started peeling off his super-hero suit.

Also, I should mention, his bulge was looking obscene, you could clearly see his firm erection through the fabric, and people were already trying to grab and rub it.

Were they allowed to touch?!

The Man of Steel was definitely living up to his name! Hard, solid, seemingly unbreakable.

He slowly slid the super-hero rainbow suit to reveal his overly muscular but smooth chest, and lower, he displayed a pair of latex rainbow briefs which seemed about to explode due to his raging hard-on.

Wow.

My stripping trainer was not only beefy, he was BIG everywhere.

He would keep the scandalous underwear on for the rest of his performance, grinding on the stage, and thrusting his hips against the pole.

There, the clients started pouring bills in his latex briefs, using the opportunity to cope a feel.

I was now pretty sure that it was indeed my old math teacher, sliding a 20 dollars bill on Allan's back, and slapping his fat juicy ass in the process.

For the second song, "Break Free" by Ariana Grande, The Man of Steel kept on dancing but he simultaneously oiled up his body.

He certainly got skills.

This took quite a while given how massive he was. There was a lot of ground to cover before he was glistening from head to toes.

His thighs were literally twice my size and I was a pretty fit guy myself!

I hoped that not all strippers had to be that beefy or I would never get the job... Fingers crossed that Chief Gordon and Peter Thorne had thought this one through.

Once he was done with his gig, Allan simply jumped off the stage and walked around the clients on the dancefloor.

Unlike me, it was obvious that he belonged there.

He knew most of the regulars, he was joking around, and he was welcoming any wandering hand feeling him up with a huge smile.

He was getting more dollar bills in his latex briefs on the way.

I was genuinely impressed.

Allan kept on flexing and pumping his muscles until he reached the bar and took a few photographs with his fans.

I tried to get his attention but I was not sure he remembered that I was supposed to be there and that we had an appointment.

I did not want to do too much because I would have looked like one of his groupies.

Let's get this straight, I could admire the man's craft but he was not really my type.

As time was passing by, I started to question myself about this whole plan.

The Man of Steel had inspired many guys surrounding me who had taken their shirts (and in some cases, their pants) off, and the atmosphere was getting downright sexual.

Two guys were making out right next to me, and then, literally over me. I had to move over.

And when I went to take a leak in the restrooms, - that is the issue with the beer drinking, it always makes you piss gallons -, there were guys blowing each other right in the open.

I stumbled on a blondish guy who was getting face-fucked by an older black man, apparently blessed with a huge cock, against the wall.

Once again, gay men know how to have fun!

I had rarely seen people have sex in straight club's restrooms.

Thinking of which, the only times I had witnessed it, it was because I was the one banging a chick in a stall!

Considering my history, I was not really in a position to judge those guys for having public sex and I honestly found this pretty funny.

However, I was wondering if I should not just leave and tell Peter and the Chief that I had failed.

I mean, what the fuck was I even doing there?

I hated this idea though.

What kind of undercover spy would I be if I could not talk to a stripper, which was not even the target, and which had been paid to teach me some moves?

As the black dude was emptying himself in the blondie's throat next to my urinal, I left the bathroom without washing my hands, determined to go talk one-on-one with Allan.

That was finally my opportunity since the Man of Steel was, for once, not surrounded by dozens of horny customers.

The music was blasting off and I tapped on his shoulders.

He turned around and lifted his arms in the air.

"Wanna sniff my pits for 50 dollars?" He shouted in my ear.

I was confused at first.

He really thought I was a client.

Well, I was. I was paying him for a service, but not for sniffing his stinky hairy pits!

"I'm Kyle." I shouted.

"WHO?"

And fuck me... I had told my real name.

How stupid could I be!?

I was the worst undercover cop ever...

Thankfully, the music was so loud that he had not heard me right.

"I'm Ryan! We talked through texts."

Allan was distracted by a guy shoving his hands in his latex underpants.

He looked at me and then, finally, it hit him.

"Oh! Ryan! Sure. I hadn't seen you here. How did you like the show?"

I could barely hear him, and I was mostly reading on his lips.

From around midnight, the vibe of the place was way more dance and loud techno music was playing.

"It was great. I... I'd like to launch myself."

"What?"

"I'd like to be a stripper!" I yelled.

He stared at me from head to toes.

"Come here, we'll go backstage!"

He grabbed my wrist and guided me through the busy dancefloor.

It was hard to walk through the crowd and I felt many hands gripping, or groping, me. One brushed against my cock; it gave me a tingling (but not unpleasant) feeling.

Finally, though, we reached a red door that said "staff" and once we had crossed it, we found ourselves in a much quieter space.

Thank God, I could not handle the loud music anymore.

"Sorry about that, it can be quite hectic in here on Friday nights, especially after my first show."

"No problem."

We were just the two of us in a room backstage. I recognized the wig of the drag queen in one of the lockers.

I felt like I was sweating a lot, but it was much worse for Allan who was dripping a mixture of sweat, - his own and the audience -, and body oil.

Not minding me, he started searching in his briefs to retrieve his money.

Trust me, he would not have had any issue finding his dick!

"Good night." He mumbled to himself as he was getting dozens of bills from his crotch.

"Damn... How much have you made?"

I was genuinely curious.

"I'll have to count but I'd say around 600, maybe 700 dollars. There were some generous regulars in the crowd. Lesson number 1, spot the wealthy ones, make sure they become regulars, and then, keep them happy."

700 dollars for an hour of work.

Jesus Christ, maybe I had chosen the wrong career path indeed.

Allan struggled with it but he finally managed to peel his underwear off. The thing was practically glued to his tanned skin.

He revealed his large cock casually, he was semi-hard.

I gulped.

"I have an interview for a club in another city and I... I wanted to get some advice from one of the best before going for it."

"You don't have any experience?"

Allan grabbed a bottle of water and drank from it. He also poured some water on his face. His performance had been pretty athletic.

"Not really... I have an opportunity in San Antonio and I want to take it, but I... I don't really know where to start."

"San Antonio, cool city... Turn around."

"What?"

"Turn around, kid. Let me check if you got what it takes."

He was massaging his impressive cut dick as he was talking which was startling me a little.

I obliged though. I had to keep playing my part.

"What do you think?" I anxiously asked.

"I'd have to see you naked for a complete assessment, but from what I can see, you have a great bubble butt, nice proportions, defined biceps."

He got closer and felt them.

"I'm going to the gym almost every single day." I spoke.

"I can see that." He grabbed my shoulders. "Strong, lean, you've got a cute face too. Nah, you could definitely make it in the business, bro."

This was silly but I was somewhat reassured.

"Thank you, I appreciate that."

"You know there's not so much for you to learn. It wouldn't work if you'd try to imitate someone else. You'll have to be yourself and this will be the reason people like you."

"Aren't you playing a character?"

Allan was bending over to reach a bottom locker near the floor, from which he got some materials. I did not recognize what it was, a tube of some sort.

No surprise, he was completely shameless and offering me a view of his asshole.

Smooth and perfectly shaven by the way.

Once again, I felt a weird tingle in my balls.

"Yes, I am. But I'm playing a character which is made for me. My attitude on stage or with the audience, it's something I've just developed over time, I didn't copy anyone. I went with what felt right for me."

"And what character do you think would be right for me?"

"Let me take a look... I think something traditional would suit you."

He was scanning me.

"Such as?"

"You know, you could go with a fireman routine, or a policeman... The usual drill. You certainly have the looks for it."

I felt myself turning red as he mentioned a policeman.

Literally, the thing he was thinking about at first glance was that I looked like a cop! Damn...

I was about to agree on the fireman's roleplay when I realized what he was holding and now, getting onto his cock.

"Lesson number two: Don't be afraid to use a cock pump! Don't get hooked on those Viagra pills, they'll give you a heart attack and shrink your dick. Your cock is your main working tool, you have to treat it well".

He started pumping his veiny dick right in front of me.

I tried to pretend like it was very casual but it was becoming difficult. I was open-minded and not really modest but this was a lot to take in.

I meant that figuratively but quite literally, anyone taking the Man of Steel's cock was brave.

"Sure... I'll... I'll keep that in mind." I mumbled.

"Are you uncut?"

"Yes, I am."

"Damn, you're lucky. I wish I was. It really does up your profile."

I stared at his cock.

Sure, it was cut, but it did not look like anything someone should complain about. I was not sure if it was because of the pump but it looked so freaking meaty and heavy.

"Do we really need to show everything?" I asked.

"If you want to make money, yeah, especially in gay clubs. I mean, there are some gigs for so-called "women's nights" in straight clubs and shit like that, but this doesn't pay. And these days, even the girls want the full-monty. Bro, you're sure you want to do this?"

I nodded yes.

"I'm sure, yeah. I mean, I've always loved showing off. It's just... It's all new to me..."

"I get that. We all have to start somewhere. I'll teach you some basic moves, it'll help, but the most important thing is that you need to love the job, otherwise, you won't last."

"Understood."

Shit, I was talking like a cop again.

"Anyway. Let's move on to some practice. You should have at the very least a routine for your job interview."

"Sure! That's exactly why I'm here."

"Good. Let me just finish the show. There's a special event on Fridays, I go all the way once we're past midnight."

"All the way?"

He smirked.

"I jerk off and cum for them."

Damn, Superman had gone wild!

"Oh..."

"But don't worry, you don't need to do that, nor to see that. I'll just go, do my thing, and then we'll take a half hour to teach you a routine. You can wait for me in here."

"Thanks, man."

"Unless you want to have a look at what I do?"

I honestly hesitated.

Maybe it was good for me to truly immerse myself into this world?

Although, I was pretty sure that I would never do more than just a strip routine. This was not in my assignment brief.

I did not need the extra sexual bullshit since I was not doing this for the money.

"Go do your thing, man."

"Wanna cope a feel before I leave? That's on the house, included in the price of the stripping lesson."

He stood still a few inches away from me, boasting his chest.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah... It's a good way to learn how to be comfortable. A stripper cannot be afraid of getting handsy."

"Hell, why not?"

I tentatively put my right hand on his massive right pec. The bastard made it bounce! He was definitely good at this.

"It does feel like steel." I commented.

"Wanna grab this as well?"

He looked down at his cock which throbbed on cue. The monster was awake.

"No... I... I'm good." I blurted out.

He patted my hair and walked through the red door again, back inside the club, only this time, he was stark naked and hard.

I heard the crowd going crazy as the door shut behind him.

For some freaking reason, I was regretting not grabbing his cock. And God damn it, I was hard myself!

Maybe I was made for this after all...?