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Big thanks to Reverse Cowgirl, Attu sees all, CrazyAss13, Sensible Erection, My Pole Forum, Lilli Marleen, le sofa blogger, pieceoBlog and Inpoint for noticing our fledgling site! We have added you all to our friends list!

Boing Boing--quoting from Reverse Cowgirl--blogged our name but alas, not our link. We hope they will come to their senses sooner rather than later . . . :)

P**p Show



[Before you start reading this story I want you to be aware it contains material that might make you queasy or extremely troubled. You have been warned . . . so please do yourself a favor and skip this one if you don't think you can handle it. For those well adjusted folks (or otherwise) who plan to stick around . . . enjoy!!]




It was around 12:00 a.m. and I was reading a great book called "Fortunate Son," which is about George W. Bush. I try to read as much as possible when work is slow. Most of my reading material tends to be political so I try to hide the covers from the customers walking by as we do get our share of right wingers coming through. On one occasion, however, I was particularly bothered by Junior and decided to scribe "No Bush" on my already bare pussy. The customers didn't seem to mind or even notice in some cases. Some of them missed the humor altogether and thought I was just making a statement that my pussy was shaved.



Anyways . . . a customer walked up to the window and just stood there smiling at me. He was fairly clean cut, average build and looked to be in his mid to late 30's. He had a shy demeanor, but seemed like he was interested. I moved toward the glass and asked him if he wanted a show. This is a little difficult though as it is hard to hear through the glass. Most of the time the customer doesn't know what the fuck I'm saying so I end up making the universal phone sign with my left hand (pinky finger and thumb extended) and holding it to my ear while pointing to the booth door. Most of the customers respond by going into the booth, but some get scared off and leave.


The customer seemed a little nervous and I thought he might leave, but he went into the booth after all. He put some money into the machine and the show began. I asked if he had been here before and he nodded, yes. I asked him if he was a naughty boy, while taking off my bra. His eyes darted down at the ground for a moment as if he were guilty of something. He smiled and said, "Yeah, I'm naughty."



"What kind of naughty things do you like to do," I asked, taking off my panties. He pointed at my ass and said, "I like that."



"Oh, you like my ass," I smiled. I asked him what he would do to it. He bit down on his lip and said, "Well...I would start by licking it."



"Oh really," I said, while slapping my ass.



"Once it was nice and wet, I would stick my cock in it," he went on. He had his cock out by this time and made a thrusting motion with it towards my ass.



"Oh, I like it up the ass," I said. He then stopped masturbating and pulled his pants down to his ankles. "Do you want to see my ass?" he asked.



I really didn't want to see his ass.



Normally, when a guy asks you this question at a Peep Show, what he really means is, "Do you want to see my asshole." I'm never good at getting myself out of these situations. I tend to be too nice at times, so of course I respond, "Sure." A huge smile spreads across his face and he turns around and leans forward toward the wall. He reaches one arm around, grabbing his left ass cheek and starts spreading it.



"Oh my God," I think to myself. I try to avoid making eye contact with the sphincter surely staring back at me. He looks over his shoulder at me to check my reaction. The only thing I could get out was, "Nice."



He took his other hand and started messing with his bottom. I wondered what the hell he was doing now. I didn't want to look, but unfortunately I focused unintentionally on his finger, which had disappeared into his sphincter. He quickly removed it, but something else happened, too. I tried to deny it . . . made excuses for what it could have been. I mean, it was dark and my mind was probably playing tricks on me.

But . . . I could have sworn I saw something dark push through the sphincter momentarily and then retreat back inside. The customer quickly turned around and picked up the phone again. I acted like I didn't see anything, thinking the customer was probably embarassed. However, the customer didn't seem phased at all. He started masturbating again and telling me how he liked it up the ass, too.

I saw him bring his free hand to his mouth. In his hand he held what looked like a tootsie roll. He started licking it. I quickly realized this was no tootsie roll, but was what I feared it to be . . . a piece of poop. He licked it until the tip of the tootsie roll bent to one side so it now resembled a Hershey kiss. My eyes started to blur a little and I tried to look past the customer's face.



I felt like I had witnessed some horrible event . . . like someone getting hit by a car. I thought this must be some internal protection mechanism kicking in as I had seen too much. I'm a very open minded person, but I just don't see how this can be healthy. I looked at the time and saw that it was just about up. The customer noticed this, too and I saw him reach with his phone hand for more money. "Fuck," I thought. I couldn't believe he was getting more time. I was also concerned that he was touching the money with his poopy hands . . . let alone the other items in the booth. Normally, at the end of our shift, we get the money that comes out of the machine. I didn't want the poop money so I thought about how I could trade it for cleaner money. This really goes to show you how dirty money really is.



He put more money into the machine. I really wasn't able to interact with him much. I just shook my head when he asked me a question and smiled a lot. I don't think he minded. I think he was just happy to share this side of himself with someone else. The second part of the show seemed to go by fast and before I knew it, his time was up again. He cleaned himself up, thanked me for the show, and left the booth. He left without using the restroom. I wondered where he was going now and who he would be interacting with. Would they be able to smell the shit on his breath or did he have any ony his teeth? What would he touch? I wondered how many other people did this sort of thing and what did they look like. What type of jobs did they have. I'm sure most of them look pretty normal.



I gathered my thoughts, put on my clothes and opened the shade to the hallway. Standing there was a very cute young man. He looked like a student. He seemed really excited to get a show and turned to go into the booth. I panicked, thinking the booth hadn't been cleaned and I was afraid he would be exposed to whatever might be left over from the previous customer. I held out my hand and told him I just had a show so the booth needed to be cleaned.



I ran out of the dressing room and went up to the front counter to tell Bob (the janitor) what happened during the last show. I told him there was a cute boy who wanted a show and I wanted to make sure the booth was sanitized for him. Bob grabbed the cleaning supplies and went to town on the booth. I went back to the dressing room and waited. Bob left the booth and the cute young boy went in. Seeing his cute face made me feel better.










Back for More



Today was extremely slow. I sat in the booth and listened to the rain pound down on the ceiling above. This is one of the little extras about this job that I love . . . listening to the rain. I'm not sure what type of roof the building has, but the rain sounds so loud. Rain is usually good for business too. I started painting my toenails "Cherry Red." There are certain laws that apply in the sex industry. For example . . . if you start painting your nails, order food, or start reading a really good book, a customer is sure to want a show. So sure enough, I've only painted three toes on my right foot and a customer ducks into my booth without me seeing him.



I peek through the crack in the shade and see that it is one of my regulars. If you have read my previous story, "2 Girls, 3 Guys, 1 Show," he is the guy that masturbated and came all over the bathroom floor. Anyways . . . he put the money into the machine and I lowered the shade to the hallway. His curtain went up and he greeted me with a huge smile. I don't think I mentioned it in the previous story, but this customer kind of looks like David Copperfield and says he owns a software developing company.



I told him I was very happy to see him again. He told me that he was so turned on by seeing me through the crack in the shade last time and that he has masturbated several times since then thinking about it. He asked me politely if I would be willing to crack the shade again. I agreed, but thought to myself, what the fuck did I start? Is this a common fantasy guys would gladly partake in if given the chance? I imagined creating this vicious cycle . . . men walking down the hallway, seeing me through the crack and thinking wow, I want a voyeur show, too. However, this did not come to fruition as there were no customers walking by.



The conversation changed and the customer started telling me stories of crazy things that went on here a long time ago. Things were a lot different at that time . . . different management, I guess. He told me the girls working then were wilder and would bring customers back into the dressing room to fuck them, or some would go into the theater or video booths to give a customer a quick hand or blow job. There were also makeshift glory holes in some of the booths and the customers would suck and fuck each other this way. I later confirmed these stories with another dancer who had worked back then. She said the video booths were on the other side of the dressing room at that time and when the guys were going at it, you could hear them moaning through the walls. The walls were really thin and during an exceptionally passionate exchange, you could actually feel pounding against the wall. Sometimes a dancer would knock back against the wall and yell, "Shut the fuck up!"



The customer went on to say that he had his first experience with another guy back then. He was in the theater (we also have an adult theater on-site open 24 hours) watching straight porn. He started masturbating and noticed that another guy was watching him. The other guy started rubbing his cock through his jeans and eventually got out of his seat and moved right next to him. The stranger was attractive, clean cut and had a nice build. The stranger asked him if he wanted a blow job. The customer told me he had never been with another guy before, but for some reason, he said yes.



The stranger knelt down in front of him and took his hard cock in his mouth. He said it felt so good that he gave into any apprehensions he might of had. He moved down in his chair a little and tried to position his jacket to conceal what was going on. He took comfort in the fact that there was a woman moaning loudly on screen. If he were to let out a moan or gasp, it would be masked for sure. The customer did not hold back and came rather quickly as he was nervous. He was suprised the stranger took his cum in his mouth and seemed to swallow it. The stranger stood up, thanked him, and left the theater. The customer said he sat in the theater for a while, gathering his thoughts and eventually got up and left, too.


The customer almost seemed nostalgic telling me the story. I looked down at his cock and it was rock hard. There was pre-cum glistening on the tip. I told him I would have enjoyed watching him get his first blow job. He said he might have to pick up some guy in the theater and bring him into the booth for a show sometime. He really liked this idea so we talked about how it would happen and what would go on during the show. I told him I would be masturbating the whole time while they got it on in the booth. The customer was really getting worked up thinking about this and came before his time was up.



We exchanged some small talk while he cleaned up. I closed the shade to the hallway and then he left, blowing me a kiss goodbye. I smiled back, wondering if this little fantasy might come true someday.

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