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Undercover - Chapter 07

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 7: Girthy Ry

Lamar was satisfied with me and apparently, his boss Mr. Ferguson was too.

After my debut performance, I was officially integrated within the strippers' crew.

Aside from Matthew (Juicy), Javier (Big J.), and Manuel (Big M.), three more strippers were regularly working at the Rainbow Club.

I met with Colin (Magic Boy), the younger boy of the crew, freshly 19 and currently studying to become a dentist, on Sunday night.

The boy had been shaking his (supposedly) straight ginger ass to pay for his tuition for about seven months.

The evening, we worked together for the first time, we were both wearing fluorescent thongs and most of the performance consisted in rubbing our respective butts against one another.Undercover - Chapter 07 Ρ„ΠΎΡ‚ΠΎ

Classy.

As Kyle, I would have hated this, as Ryan, I was fine with it, and as Girthy Ry, my stripping persona, I was almost excited about the lewd show.

Hell, why should I lie?

I was DEFINITELY excited about it and my spontaneous hard-on, poking out from my slutty underwear, was the ultimate proof of that.

Colin was impressed with my package and confided that, - despite his full eight inches -, he was still hoping his dick could grow until he reached the age of 20.

For some reason, he was taking the size of his dong very seriously.

"I've read some medical studies saying that you don't reach your full size until you're 21. For some men at least. When did you stop growing down there?"

"How should I know? I don't tape my junks every morning." I joked.

He did not find my answer funny.

"Yeah, well, I've discussed it with senior medical students on campus and I'm currently on a special diet to maximize my chances at getting an extra inch. No matter what anybody says, size matters!"

I wondered what sort of stupid experiment those college boys were up to but I did not ask any more question.

Colin did swallow a couple of hard-boiled eggs right there and drink a weird green potion before returning inside the club.

It was time to go back on stage for the full nude-show.

First time I would actually be entirely naked on the stage by the way.

Once again, it went great and I thought that Captain Gordon had done a great job picking me for this undercover job.

Nobody in the precinct could have moved their bodies as I was shimmering mine!

I met with Will (Massive Will) a former homeless man turned gogo-dancer and Jeffrey (The Magic Stick) on Tuesday night for a special shower show.

Will had recently found out that his massive black cock could earn him a ticket back into having a decent life.

As for Jeffrey, I only understood his nickname when he got stark naked and I realized that he could do some crazy tricks with his 7.5 inches dick.

Namely, he could retract and push forward his prominent foreskin without touching his dick, and he was even able to make his balls move up and down in his sack by the sole power of his (dirty) mind.

Pretty wild.

Jeffrey was a freak but the audience loved him.

Manuel and Javier were there also, both sharing a shower and basically fucking on stage.

There was no actual penetration though. Just like cumming, the blowjobs or sodomies were only happening inside the private rooms, behind the red curtains.

Those were the strict instructions coming from Ferguson himself.

"No jizz on the stage."

Overall, I was getting along fine with the team, the bartenders, and pretty much everyone was willing to give me advice or help me out to make more money.

It seemed like the only person I had not met yet was the owner of the establishment, my target, Artem Kravchenko.

The Police Department had told me that he would hang out in his own clubs often but after a week shaking my ass for the Rainbow's crowds, there was still no sign of him.

Since there had not been any new development, I had no reason to discuss with Peter and therefore, it was as if I really was Ryan Smith, the brand-new stripper in town.

I got into my routine and fully lived my life as my undercover character.

The only new piece of information I gathered came from Will when he explained how Artem had literally spotted him in the streets when he did not have a roof over his head, and offered him a job in his club.

"He's been a life saver." Will explained seriously as he was pumping his humongous cock one night.

He was even bigger than Lamar or Manuel down there, and trust me, this was saying something.

I had never seen a cock that large. It looked almost unreal, so large and so meaty. More than ten inches for sure.

"Really? How did he approach you?"

"Very casually. I was chatting with a buddy of mine, trading cigarettes on the streets. We were in the fancy part of the city, - not our usual spot -, and suddenly, that man in a white suit appeared from nowhere. It was like a divine apparition."

I was not the only one catching on Artem's extraordinary aura then...

"And he told you, what? Nice bulge? Come work in my club?"

"Basically. Almost exactly those words actually!"

"Really?"

"I was wearing an old pair of ripped shorts, it was last year during another summer heatwave, I guess that I was kind of on display." He looked down at the humongous cock he was still pumping.

"It's like a movie scenario."

"Rag to riches plotline." Will smiled. "Then, Kravchenko gave me a deposit. Right there on the street, 2.000$! My buddy was dead jealous. It was kinda scary too, what did this rich guy want from me? But it worked out well."

I tried not to sound too curious.

"And have you seen him again since then?"

"A few times, here, at the club. I thought he would try to do something weird but he was always professional. Mr. Kravchenko is a solid guy. I was struggling to make ends meet and now I can offer a home to my two daughters. I'm still fighting to get longer custody of them but their mother is an unsufferable bitch."

I relayed the information as soon as I got back to the apartment, - about Kravchenko, not about Will's bitchy ex -, during a quick phone call with Peter.

For once, I had something to share, even if it was barely anything.

Peter seemed interested enough though. Anything we could gather on our target could prove itself useful on the long run.

He also seemed surprised about the anecdote.

"You're sure that the guy, Will, is telling the whole truth? He didn't have to suck the man's cock for these two grands?"

"I can never be sure but he seemed genuine. Will is a pretty simple guy, not the sort to make up stories."

"Thank you. And how is the mission going otherwise? How are you handling the stripping gig?"

"I'm fine. I think everyone is buying into the character, no question or nothing sus."

"Yeah. I heard about your new nickname... Girthy Ry!"

I did not miss on the teasing in his tone.

It was one thing to be called like this in the club, it was another when it was coming from one of my superiors and colleagues from the P. D.

When working at the club under my false identity, it felt like nothing was real or mattered. I could do anything; it was not really me. I was having fun.

But when I was taking a step back, I had some mixed feelings about the mission.

"I'm doing the best that I can to remain credible!" I replied, a bit dry and frustrated.

"And you're doing an excellent job at it! You're a great cop, Kyle."

I had not been called by my real name in an entire week. It felt odd.

The call basically ended there, - I liked Peter but we would never dwell on too long -, and I went to bed, glancing at the camera in the ceiling.

Amber, my neighbor, had liked a few of my posts on Ryan's Instagram.

I was not really sure what I was supposed to do with that. On one hand, she was hot as fuck, on the other hand, I had to stay focused on the mission.

Besides, and I could not ignore this, lately, I had tended to enjoy the male's company more than I usually did...

As I mentioned, it was like playing a character had allowed me to let some hidden parts of me surface.

I fell asleep a little anxious and confused.

I could not make the clichΓ© mistake of getting lost into my false identity. I was still Kyle, only playing the role of Ryan to get the task done and take down a drug lord.

I went training at the gym with Manuel and Javier the next morning.

We had become even closer since we were working at the same place and our gym time had turned into a giant horsing around session from the locker-rooms, to the showers, to the actual working-out.

Honestly, I did not have much friends back in Dallas, especially amongst my uptight colleagues, and the Lopes cousins were cool.

They were non-judgmental, always up for some fun, and very good when it came to helping me getting bulkier. It was like they were owning the freaking gym.

Manuel was my assigned spotter and he was always pushing me to my limits.

He also gave me a front row seat to his dangling cock...

I was far from being as broad as they were, but I was definitely making progress on my reps.

While we were about to change back into our everyday clothes, - a pair of small shorts and a tank top -, I noticed a rubber-banding large stacks of cash in Manuel's sport bag.

I immediately looked away but it was too late, he had caught me glancing.

"What are you staring at there?"

"I'm not staring."

Anything which may have made me look too nosy could have been fatal to the mission.

"Maybe you should take a look." Manuel grabbed the pile of cash from his bag. "There's three grands here."

"Put that away, man." His cousin advised him.

"Chill. Nobody else is here and Ryan is cool."

Seeing that much money held so close to that big of a flaccid cock was quite intimidating.

I tried to stay collected and act normally. I hoped I would not learn something too bad, a part of me did not want to have to tell on Manuel to the undercover team.

I wanted to get the target in prison, not those boys.

"Javier is right, you should put that away, somebody could come in and I didn't mean to look. That's none of my business." I spoke.

Manuel puffed.

"No need to act as if this is poisoned. It's simply what I made the other night. And I meant to talk to you about this shit anyway, you should really go into the private shows business at the Rainbow. That's where the real money is made and Javier is too dumb to get it. That's, right here, is my retirement fund!"

"I'm not a whore." Javier said as he was sliding in his nylon shorts, commando.

"What did you call me, asshole?" His cousin pretended to attack him.

Or maybe he really was mad?

Manuel grabbed Javier's neck forcefully but it was always hard to tell with these two if they were being for real or not.

Javier pushed him back against a locker.

"Get off, your cock is all over me idiot!"

Manuel laughed.

"Sorry, big dick problems, you wouldn't understand."

Javier rolled his eyes. This was a ridiculous statement for sure since the two cousins were both massive in the junks' department.

"You made 3.000 dollars doing private shows? In a single night?" I asked.

"With a single client actually. A very generous donor." Manuel smirked.

"But what did you have to do exactly? What's going on in there?"

"Nothing too crazy. I mean, you do need to be open-minded but nobody had ever fucked my ass and I'm getting closer to have enough money to retire before I hit 30."

I looked at the money.

The character I was playing would certainly be interested in that much cash.

As Kyle Boone, I could not deny that it was even tickling my own interest. It was more than a month of my cop salary before the undercover mission.

This kind of things make you think.

"I turned off a few requests already... Some guys coming at me and asking for a private show, but they were never very clear on their intentions." I explained.

Manuel finally put the money back in his bag.

"You're the one who needs to be clear, you're the one setting the limits you wouldn't cross. Some guys will try to play around them but eh, what are you afraid of? A bunch of homos too lonely to find some dick on GrindR? When you're interacting with them, you are the boss."

"That's fair." I said, non-committal.

"Bro, don't get dragged in this mess by my cousin. He's only trying to find someone for the guy who keeps on requesting a duo performance."

Manuel looked angry for a split second and then his face softened up and he simply said:

"Guilty. Javier's chickening out every time and I wouldn't do those shows with Juicy. This dude is way too eager to feel my big anaconda in his little ass."

"Matthew does have some nice JUICY ass." I could not help to point out.

Javier and Manuel exchanged a quick look but they did not say anything.

A group of guys was walking inside the locker-room to hit the showers and we hurried up outside to grab some healthy lunch.

"Are you scheduled for tonight?" Manuel asked me once we were eating.

"Yes, uniforms night, right?"

"What are you going to wear? I'm going as a naughty army officer."

"That's a surprise. I've got the perfect thing at home!" I replied with a wink.

Frankly, I was excited to wear the slutty cop outfit for the first time.

It had been tempting me in my closet since the day I had moved in San Antonio and finally, there was the perfect opportunity to wear it.

That night, almost all the crew would be there, except for Lamar and Juicy. In the absence of Lamar, it was up to Jeffrey A. K. A. the Magic Stick to lead the pack.

It was freaking surreal to walk inside the club in the cop costume.

The ultimate inception experience.

I sat on the bar and Jake barely recognized me.

"Oh. Wow, you almost look like a real policeman. I got scared for a second."

His joke almost made me regret my choice immediately.

Although, as per my initial conversation with Peter on the subject, which sort of undercover cop would be dumb enough to dress as a member of the police force?

I was quite literally hiding in plain sight and it was thrilling.

For some reason, it got me even hornier than usual.

I scanned the room and tried to look as sexy as I could be.

On the other side of the club, I caught Manuel walking into a private room with an old guy. A very old guy, like the kind of age you would not think men would still be able to get it up.

Despite our talk, he had not gotten into much details regarding what actually was going on behind the curtain.

Maybe I was better off not knowing.

Jeffrey A. K. A. the Magic Stick came to get me a few moments later for my first performance on stage.

He was dressed as a slutty maid, - stockings, G-strings and suspender belts -, and we joined Will and Javier both dressed as firemen, - armed with the biggest hoses -, on the platform.

I was so used to the drill now that I did not even have to think about it while twerking and receiving dollar bills in my pants.

I even knew the Lady Gaga and Madonna songs by heart. There was also a lot of Charlie XCX playing during our performances.

I used the zipper on the back of my trousers to good use when I revealed my bare ass in the middle of the show.

That was a real crowd-pleasure move, especially when Javier started spanking me.

Some of my new colleagues had told me about the bad spirit and nasty competitions in some of the clubs they had worked before, but there, at the Rainbow, the entire team was chill and working in good fun.

Manuel joined us in his military gear when he was done with his private show.

I thought that I saw a white fluid on the bottom corner of his full lips but maybe it was my imagination talking.

Or my wishful thinking?

Was I hard, again?!

To be fair, I was not jerking off enough lately. I had been advised to keep my balls full at whole time for the nightly performances but it was messing with my libido.

I suppose that the cameras in my new flat were not helping either.

Besides, I had not laid my hands on a woman for more than six weeks at this point, a personal record since my teenage years.

I returned to the bar after my performance because I liked to talk with Jake, - he was super chill -, and Jeffrey (and his damn Magic Stick) could be annoying when he was in charge backstage.

Not to say, a pain in the ass.

A few guys came up to me for pictures and handed me some more twenty-dollar bills.

I did not drink any alcohol since I was on duty but I enjoyed my iced coke. (I wrote coke here, not cock, you pervert!)

"You should go to the private cabin, there, number 3." Jake screamed in my ear while pointing to one of the red curtains.

The techno music was blasting off.

"What for?"

"A client requested a private show from you."

"I don't remember agreeing to this." I shouted back.

Jake had a cheeky smile on his face.

"He's a very peculiar client. You should go, mate. Trust me."

"Peculiar? Like? He's got loads of money?"

"He's super wealthy, that's for sure."

Jake winked at me and went to service another customer.

I was perplexed... and curious.

As Manuel had mentioned, if I was uncomfortable, I could still put my own boundaries and just leave.

I was not going to let myself be bullied by a customer at a gay strip club.

Also, it was only right for my character to take the bait and give this private show a shot, right? It was all for the mission! I was supposed to be a stripper willing to do anything to make some money.

I walked to private room number 3 but it took me some time to get there as I was being felt up by a bunch of clients on the way.

Dang. They were insatiable!

In all fairness, I was looking very hot that night.

Did I forget to zip back my pants or did someone play with the zipper as I moved around? Either way, I arrived at the private cabin in my cop uniform while feeling a breeze against my bare cheeks.

I assumed that whoever the rich client was, he would like it better that way, my bum exposed.

I tried to be my sexiest-self, I opened the curtain and the narrow room was all in the dark except for a single dim purple neon.

This was not too surprising; intimacy and discretion were key there.

A tall man was sitting on a red couch, smoking inside, which was not allowed in the club. He was not looking at me.

I got closer and with the neon purple light, through the smoke, I finally identified him.

Artem Kravchenko, barely acknowledging that I had walked inside the cabin, wearing his dapper beige expensive suit, was smoking a large cigar.

I froze on the spot.

Damn... That explained the "peculiar client" comment!

"S... Sir." I stammered.

He had another drag of his cigar.

For sure, he would not be scolded by the staff for smoking, he owned the entire establishment.

And finally, Artem Kravchenko, the target I had been after for a couple of weeks now, turned his face towards me.

"They call you Girthy Ry... Is this correct?"

"Yes, it is."

He had the faintest smile and he extended his arm. Such long fingers. Such a vibe. And such a surprising firm hand-shake when we had our first contact.

I felt shivers down my spine.

"Nice to meet you, Girthy."

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