Merry Random Christmas Read Online Free

outside of the g-string .
    Then he jumped.
    Money floated in the air over his head as the chicks lost it. Just lost it. Mayhem reigned for the next five minutes and I felt like I was in a collagen and estrogen-filled mosh pit.  
    Which perfectly described this party.
    We weren’t allowed to drink. Strippers had to be sober. No drugs. Pure, unadulterated sensuality and plenty of skin was what we were being paid to provide . No escapism. We were making a solid four figures each, plus tips, to wiggle asses, touch the women (without crossing any major lines), and give them their escapism.  
    Not ours.
    I loosened up and laughed at Trevor’s antics. Then I remembered something I’d tucked into the Santa hat I wore. Sam and Liam had suggested we hide personal items in there, because we wouldn’t have access to our clothes or coats for most of the ninety minute gig, so I had wisely attached the Rudolph the Red-Nosed reindeer nipple clamps to the inside of my hat.
    I was a Boy Scot. You know the motto.
    “ Santa Claus is coming!” someone screamed, and then a friendly hand—way, way too friendly—stroked my shaft over my candy-cane g-string. I rose like Santa up the chimney, driven by basic biology and blood flow rather than Christmas magic.  
    Ho fucking ho, no .
    I grabbed the offending hand and lifted her up in my arms, the crowd separating as if I were Moses parting the red sea.
    Without thinking, I held up the nipple clamp and turned it on.
    “Oooooh,” the crowd said in unison. Even Trevor’s conga line stopped.
    I set the woman down, a lithe, tiny lady who reminded me of my mother just enough to make my half-hard self soften beautifully.
    Pretending to touch her boob, I reached instead for my own nipple and attached the clamp.
    And instantly felt a wave of appreciation for Darla, who was wearing a full set of these right now at my insistence. I felt like a rat was gnawing my nip off from the inside out.
    Catcalls, hoots, and a spray of money greeted my little stunt.
    And flashes. So many flashes.
    The song changed to “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” and that’s the last time I saw Trevor for thirty minutes. I’m pretty sure that was the last full breath I took, too. So many flavors of lipstick. So many colors.
    Colors I tasted.
    Until the world faded into nothing but lipstick, wine, and my favorite scent:
    Money.
    * * *
    Time lost its meaning for a while there.
    You would think that my dick had magically transformed itself into the North Star, because nearly every woman at this Christmas Eve party was using it as a beacon for navigating the room, touching it at least once as if it were a landmark along the journey to the bar.
    At Harvard, on campus, there’s this statue of one of the founders of the college. During exam weeks, students rub his shoe for good luck. The shoe is shiny, while the rest of the statue has a darkened patina.
    My cock wa s getting rubbed so much was shining like that foot.
    You could even say it glow ed .
    A tap on my shoulder ma de me jump. In the hour we’ d been stripping, no one had touched me there . Such a benign spot. I should have felt self-conscious wearing only a g-string in this crowded room with all these women, but oddly enough, I didn’t.  
    I s aw the appeal of stripping, and unders tood a little better why Liam got into it, and why Sam joined him. It was all fun and games, right?
    I shift ed slightly and pull ed at the butt floss. That one chick, though, who decided to give me a little extra tip...that wasn’t the kind of tip I was looking for, if you know what I mean.
    Trevor’s deep voice was music to my ears in a room full of horny, drunk sopranos. “Dude, the hostess says we can take a break. She spread some towels on her bed and has drinks and snacks for us in there.”
    “Why? To fatten us up before the slaughter?” We we re being eyed and sized. Money wa s changing hands between various women and it was clear there was some sort of wager being