Stripteased [GazettE Kink/Porn Meme, Aoi/Kazuki, NC-17]
Title: Stripteased
Chapter: Standalone
Author: Boots
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Stripper AU. Pure PWP Smut
Warnings: Male/male sex, deep throating, slight D/s, piercing worship/play
Pairing: Aoi X Kazuki
Disclaimer: Boys belong to PS Company, I own the story only.
Summary: Kazuki is a newbie stripper obsessed with Aoi, the club superstar. Aoi invites him backstage for a lesson - but is his interest just professional?
Comments: Written for the GazettE Kink/Porn Meme. Prompt: Aoi/Poledancer!Kazuki. It can be an AU where Kazuki is a strip club newbie and Aoi a veteran stripper, or one where Kazuki is the stripper and Aoi the strip club patron, or even a non-AU where Kazuki acts out a stripper fantasy for Aoi. I just want to see this played out. (Complete with navel piercing play). Also inspired by this photoset, this photoset and this photoset. Dedicated to everyone who showed me support during my difficult times - you guys are the best.
It wasn’t as if Kazuki had set out to be a stripper. That wasn’t exactly his original career goal. He was going to be a musician, fill live houses across Japan, maybe stand on the stage of Tokyo Dome someday.
That was the dream. The reality was a pile of bills, a band that was falling apart and a roommate who took off all of a sudden, sticking him with everything. He needed money, and fast. Fortunately, there was a club down the road from him that was hiring.
What the hell, he thought. He’d been told he was attractive. He knew how to shake his ass - he’d done it for lovers plenty of times. And he was pierced in a manner that was suitable for both visual kei and strip clubs.
Fine, so he’d do it for a few months, stockpile some yen and then quit. Not like it would particularly damage his music career, right? He’d heard of guys who did far worse before they were famous, and still went on to have success.
* * *
Peace and Smile Club - PSC to its employees - might have a deceptively innocent name, but the club itself was anything but. As gay strip clubs went, it was what was considered a “classy joint” - meaning both the venue and the dancers looked clean and well-maintained.
The centerpiece of the place was a light-ringed stage, complete with a catwalk, where the boys did their work. At either end were two poles, which was where the real money was made. (Kazuki learned fast to conceal an antiseptic wipe somewhere in his tight and skimpy costume and give the poles a quick and discreet once-over before he started to dance, while the stage lights were still lowered. Any number of body parts had made contact with those things - one dancer, Ruki, was a master at pole-licking).
And then, there were the tables throughout the room, filled with men all too happy to slip 500-yen coins into his hand - or shove bills of much bigger numbers into his G-string, if they were rich and drunk enough. He’d had more than a few invitations to come home with a customer, which he always declined.
He did, however, occasionally accept an offer to give a client a private dance in a back room. These were dimly lit little cubbyholes with one piece of furniture - a chair. The customer sat there while the dancer performed a series of gyrations for him, and then perched in his lap and started wriggling.
Technically, the boys were supposed to stop when they felt the customer start to become aroused - but they all kept going until the man arched up against them, letting out a strangled cry as he came in his pants.
The tips were much bigger if they got the customer off. And, Kazuki always told himself, it’s not prostitution if the customer keeps his pants on.
* * *
He realized the real reason he was still working here - well, other than the money - about three months after he started at the club.
Aoi was one of the longest-tenured dancers there - just about all of the other boys referred to him as “sempai.” He was also one of the most popular with the customers - they called him “Superstar.” Lord knew he was gorgeous - tall and thin, but with finely sculpted muscles and a full mouth.
Kazuki noticed him right away, of course. It would be impossible not to. He walked into the dressing room while all the dancers were getting ready, and all at once, it was as if he owned the place. Heads tuned everywhere to look at him. When he pulled out a cigarette, lighters flicked throughout the room, competing to light it.
Kazuki had been talking to another dancer the first time he saw Aoi come in. The conversation ended at that moment, of course - the superstar always commanded full attention. However, he must have overheard a bit of their talk, because the first thing he said to Kazuki was, “Hey - are you from the Kansai region, too?”
“Yes,” Kazuki said, turning to the newcomer with a bright smile. “There’s not many of us here, I’m afraid.”
“More like just you and me,” Aoi replied. “Getting kind of lonely with all these Kanto boys around.” He gave him a sly smile. “We need to get together more often.”
Kazuki felt his heart catch in his throat - was he behaving like a high school boy over this guy? Oh, yes, he was. “Yes, let’s! I need to find more people from back home.”
But Aoi didn’t seek him out after the club closed that night. He just melted into the darkness, a confused Kazuki left looking around and asking about him.
He didn’t say one word to Kazuki the next night, or the night after that. But then, all of a sudden, he came up to him in the dressing room again. “Hey - you’re pretty good for a newbie, you know that?”
“Oh, thanks,” Kazuki said, giving him a wide smile. “I haven’t really done this before.”
“You haven’t?” Aoi said. “You’re a natural. Just the kind of guy they look for around here.”
“What about you?” Kazuki asked. “You seem like you were born doing this. Did you have any kind of dance training?”
“Dance training?” Aoi gave a rueful laugh. “Nah. There’s other ways to learn about this stuff. Sometimes, you just have to feel it, you know.”
“Could you give me pointers sometime?” Kazuki said. “You know, advice? Share your knowledge?”
“Now, if I did that, what kind of superstar would I be?” Aoi said. “I can’t just go around telling everyone what makes me special. It would ruin the magic.” And then, he leaned over and whispered, “Maybe some night, after hours . . .”
But for the next couple of days, he said nothing to Kazuki. Again. Kazuki began to wonder if Aoi had any real interest in him at all, or if he just enjoyed teasing guys and stringing them along.
It went on like this for some time - Aoi talking to Kazuki, sharing stories from back home, praising his performances . . . and then, a couple of nights of silence. And Kazuki began to realize it was turning into an addiction.
He craved those little bits of attention from Aoi. He felt his breath catch whenever the superstar made his grand entrance, wondering if tonight was the night he’d get more than a few moments of attention. But sometimes, there was nothing at all.
And he began to realize he’d passed the deadline he’d set for himself for quitting the club. Two months had passed. Then three, stretching out toward four. It wasn’t a matter of money - he’d paid off all his debts handily, and was even starting to put some cash away.
No, it was Aoi, dammit. Aoi was rapidly becoming the reason he came to the club. Aoi was the motivation behind his dances - every one of them was an imaginary fuck-session with the tall, beautiful man. When he did the bump and grind, he saw himself thrusting back against the taller man as he pounded into him. When he slid along the pole, he thought of rubbing against the other man’s body.
And when he went into the back room with strangers, he imagined it was Aoi’s lap he was sitting on, Aoi’s cock against his ass - but in his fantasy, both of them were naked, and the cock wasn’t staying outside him.
Always, always, he wondered if Aoi was watching him when he danced, and what he thought. Was he getting turned on as well? Did he think about Kazuki the way Kazuki thought about him?
* * *
There came a night where Kazuki was on stage, doing a slow, sensuous pole routine. Unbuttoning his shirt, sliding his hands over his own chest, moving just so in order to let the light catch his navel ring, wrapping a thigh around the pole and rubbing his torso against it, up and down, as if envisioning a lover.
And he felt eyes on him. Of course, there was always the appreciative glances of the men in the audience. But this was one very intent stare - he felt like he was being looked at up and down, undressed with this person’s eyes before his own hands had a chance to do the undressing.
He grasped hold of the pole and spun around it, and that’s when he caught sight of someone in the corner, in the shadows right off the stage, eyes fastened to him as if they’d been glued.
Aoi? Was he imagining things? Oh, no, he wasn’t - it was the superstar, the sempai to them all, and his eyes were for Kazuki, and only Kazuki.
Suddenly, the rest of the room vanished. It became a private performance, a show put on for this man alone, displaying his body, wriggling, sticking his fingers down the front of his pants and licking his lips before finally sliding the garment down.
He bent over, wriggling a bottom almost completely bared by his G-string, not hearing the whoops and whistles of the crowd, just thinking of one man seeing it, appreciating it.
When his act was over, he turned toward the crowd with a smile, hand held over his head triumphantly, listening to the thunderous applause - and scanning the spot where Aoi was standing before, looking for his reaction to the end of the routine. But Aoi was gone.
Later, as he was moving through the men in the audience, accepting tips and turning down invitations, he felt something slipped into his hand that most definitely wasn’t a 500 yen coin, or a bill of larger denomination. It was a tiny, folded up piece of paper.
On it was lettering, written with a thick, black pen. “Back room 3 after close,” it said. “Come dressed for a performance. Aoi.”
Kazuki suddenly froze, his head spinning. What was this? Aoi wanted a private performance after hours? Was this some kind of a joke? Was this one of the other dancers, trying to play some sort of prank on . . . no, wait, none of the other dancers knew he liked Aoi, did they? He’d kept that tightly under wraps.
Fine, he’d go. He knew if he didn’t, he’d regret it and kick himself for hours, wondering about what could have happened.
* * *
He slipped into the washroom as the other dancers were packing up to leave. He didn’t want to explain why he was getting dressed and made up as if he were going on stage again - jacket, shirt, tight shorts, garters, boots.
When the dressing room was quiet, he snuck out and made a beeline for the back rooms, those cubbyholes where they gave lap dances that sometimes went too far. Door 3 was unlocked. He turned the knob, holding his breath, and pushed inward.
Aoi was sitting on the plain lap dance chair, making it look like a king’s throne. He wasn’t dressed for a performance. Quite the opposite - he was wearing a brief pair of black shorts and nothing else. Kazuki just stood there, barely breathing, eyes wandering over the long, slender limbs, the finely sculpted chest.
“What the hell are you standing there like that for?” Aoi said. “Close the door and come in.”
Kazuki shut the door behind him, hoping to God he wasn’t slamming it, and walked into the room, toward the chair, toward the most mesmerizing man he’d ever seen in his life. He watched Aoi lift a hand off the armrest of the chair, bring it down beside him . . .
And flick the switch of an old-school CD boombox. Pulsing, thumping music filled the air.
“I said this was a performance,” Aoi said. “Dance.”
Just like that? Just . . . start dancing? Well, this wasn’t quite what he was expecting - but what DID he expect, for that matter? Did he think Aoi was going to just molest him then and there?
He took a deep breath, and then started to move as if he were onstage, hips swaying, hands coming up to tousle his own hair, the initial tease before starting to remove his clothes.
“Not like that,” Aoi said.
Kazuki suddenly stopped, and just looked at Aoi, startled.
“Did I tell you to stop?” Aoi said. “Keep dancing. Only not with those herky-jerky movements in your hands. They’re attracting attention away from your body. Make everything smooth. Like liquid. Pretend your arms are made of liquid, and they’re flowing.”
Kazuki thought about what he was saying. Liquid . . . flowing . . . he started to do the hand motions again, this time concentrating on it more, making the motions slower, more sensuous . . .
“Move your hips with your hands,” Aoi said. “Same rhythm. You’re one being, and you’re moving all at once. Every part of you is one with the music. So just . . . feel it. Everywhere.”
Kazuki concentrated, feeling the music, taking it into his veins, letting it radiate through every part of him, from his ears to his belly to his arms and legs and, yes, even his cock . . . The more he concentrated, the more he felt it, the easier it became. His body was moving with the rhythm, effortlessly, hips swaying, arms gyrating.
“Good,” Aoi said. “Very good. You look even sexier now. You’re the man every guy in that audience wants to have. Are you going to give them what they want?”
He figured this was his cue to start undressing. He reached down and started unbuttoning the jacket, unfastening each button deliberately . . .
“Not so slow all the time,” Aoi said. “Undo a couple slowly, then a few more quickly - make them think they’re going to see you right away. Then, just when you have them convinced, undo that last button as slowly as hell. Frustrate them.”
Kazuki did what he was told, working that last button out of the hole, then pushing it back in, then working it out again. “Good,” Aoi murmured. “They’ll want to see you now. They’ll be panting for a glimpse of what’s underneath. They’ll be undressing you with their eyes . . .”
Kazuki turned his back to Aoi, sliding the jacket down his arms, letting it drop to the floor. He pulled up the hem of his shirt a little, exposing a strip of skin, hearing his audience of one say, “That’s it . . . give them just enough. Make them want it. Make them imagine every inch of you. And then, you let them have it.”
Kazuki turned around, rolling his hips, letting his tongue flick out a little. His eyes locked with Aoi’s . . . oh, yes, the other man was giving him a heated gaze. This might be the lesson to teach his secrets Aoi had promised him awhile back, but Kazuki was beginning to wonder if it was all professional.
Well, he was going to make sure it was more than that, wasn’t he?
He began to unbutton his shirt from the top, reaching in as if to caress his own nipple, letting his face show an expression of bliss. “Hold that for a moment,” Aoi said. “Let them imagine you naked and pleasuring yourself. Then let them imagine themselves pleasuring you. They’re all going to want to lick and suck that nipple you’re touching, even before they see it.”
Oh, God, his words were turning Kazuki on. How many times had he imagined Aoi licking and sucking his nipples - and other parts of him? He just hoped he wasn’t getting hard as he unbuttoned his shirt - slow, then quick, then slow, like he had with his jacket. He turned around, flashing a coy smile over his shoulder . . .
“Don’t be so sweet about it,” Aoi said. “Give them a smirk. You’re the fucking king here. You have them all by the balls and you know it. Now, act like it.”
Kazuki gave him a smirk, then spun around, pulling his shirt off and flinging it in the corner. He didn’t have a spotlight now to shine on his navel piercing, making it glitter - something he knew always turned on his audience. No matter. He caressed his own chest, rolling his hips, staring at his audience of one with eyes of fire.
“Now you move in for the kill,” Aoi said. “They want to see those pants come off. Tease them by dancing. It’s all in the roll of the hips - slow and deliberate. Pretend you’re fucking every one of them, because you are. Pretend you’re in the middle of the most amazing fuck you ever had.”
Kazuki rolled his hips, and in his head there was a vision of Aoi, naked, behind him, cock slamming into him, hard . . .
“Oh, yes, that’s it,” Aoi said, voice beginning to take on a husky tone. “Go on. Keep doing it. You’ll have every man wanting a private dance. Now touch yourself - fingers just under your waistband.”
Kazuki had his eyes locked on Aoi’s face now. The other man was flushed, pupils dilated, obviously in the throes of lust. And Kazuki gave that lust right back to him, in his own heated stare, the sway of his hips, the way his fingers slid under the waistband, then, out, then under again . . .
And then, he brought them to his mouth and sucked, knowing full well this wasn’t part of his performance. This was pure open invitation. You gave me your dance secrets, he was saying to Aoi without words, let me give you something in return. Let me offer you my mouth, my ass. Let me feel you filling me every way I can be filled.
He reached down, slowly and deliberately undoing the garters, and then peeled the shorts down, down, down, over his thighs, his boots, to the floor. He stepped out of them, standing before Aoi in just his G-string.
And then, he took his performance one step further, further than he did for an audience, fingers hooking in the last garment, pushing it down and off, letting Aoi know of his full intentions. He stood up and faced him proudly, knowing full well his cock was hardening. Good. Let Aoi see how turned on he was.
Aoi gave him a smirk, the same kind he’d instructed him to give an audience earlier. “So, you can do more than dance,” he said, and stood up, reaching for the waistband of his own shorts. He pushed them down, and off . . .
Oh, WOW. He was big, damn big, and beautifully formed - the kind of cock you’d see carved on ancient stone fertility idols. And, dear God, was that . . . a piercing at the tip, just under the head? It was. Holy HELL. Kazuki had heard about those kind of things, but he’d never known anyone bold enough to get one - until now.
He stalked toward Aoi, trying to keep his eyes on the other man’s eyes, not on that amazing cock. “I can do plenty,” he said. “Want to see?”
“We’ll see how much you can do.” Aoi settled back in the chair, legs apart, cock fully exposed, an open invitation if there ever was one. “On your knees.”
Kazuki crossed the final couple of feet between them and dropped, his knees hitting the floor with a hard smack, not noticing the little bit of pain. And there, in front of him, was the most glorious cock he’d ever seen in his life.
He leaned over and began to kiss it, his lips brushing the hard, hot flesh with the kind of reverence one would expect from a worshipper before an idol. His tongue slid out, touching the base, beginning to move upward . . .
Aoi let out a hum of pleasure, one hand coming to rest on Kazuki’s head. “Nice,” he murmured. “Work it slow. Like that. We have all night.”
Kazuki licked upwards, savoring the feel of it, the musky taste and scent. Everything about this man seemed twice as erotic, twice as sensual, as any lover he’d had before. It was like Aoi was designed by some love god precisely to give pleasure.
He reached the ornament, the piercing, and flicked his tongue around it, figuring that flesh would be extra-sensitive - and he was right. The hand on his hair tightened a little, pulling a tiny bit. “Oh, yes,” Aoi moaned. “You know just what to do, don’t you?”
Kazuki responded by opening his lips and sliding down on the head of Aoi’s cock, focusing on keeping his head and neck in as straight a line as possible so he could take him deep, deeper . . . He swallowed a little, then pushed down further still, feeling the metal ornament bump on the back of his throat - which came close to choking him. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose, though, and held on.
And he was rewarded by a long, low moan from Aoi and a cry of, “Oh, fuck!” The hand in his hair tugged harder, the bit of pain sending a wild shudder of pleasure through Kazuki’s body, just inspiring him to give Aoi more.
He started to suck, moving his head backward until only the tip was still encased. He teased the ornament with his tongue, flicking across it, sucking, then flicking again. “Oh, my God,” Aoi moaned, and that became a wordless, strangled cry as Kazuki moved down again, taking him in his throat.
Kazuki moved up, then down, every sound Aoi made the sweetest music to his ears, the sensation of cock sliding across lips and tongue more luscious to him than the finest wine. He loved sucking cock anyway, but this wasn’t like any experience he’d ever had. It was making him almost as hot as having Aoi’s hands all over him would.
Finally, on an outstroke, Aoi tugged his hair again and said, “Stop . . . stop . . . if you don’t, I’m going to come, and I’m not coming without fucking you.”
Kazuki moved away, giving Aoi a sly smile, licking his lips. “Guess you like it?” he said in a teasing voice.
“Stand up,” Aoi said, rather shakily. “Just stand up, right here . . .”
Kazuki rose to his feet, and Aoi along with him. The two men’s arms wrapped around each other, and their mouths met in a hot kiss, tongues coming into play almost immediately. They explored each other’s mouths, seeking and finding every sensitive spot they could, stroking and pressing against them to make the other man moan even more.
When they broke apart, Aoi leaned down so his mouth could close over Kazuki’s nipple, sucking it hard, scraping it with his teeth, a mixture of pleasure and pain that almost made the younger man’s knees buckle.
“Aoi,” he moaned, tangling his fingers in the other dancer’s hair as he moved to the other nipple, biting it lightly, then tonguing it, then sucking again. Kazuki closed his eyes as he panted heavily, every fantasy he’d had about this man suddenly brought to vivid, hot life . . .
He felt Aoi’s tongue start to slide down his stomach, and he gasped, anticipating his mouth wrapping around his cock, a return of the favor he’d paid the other man before.
Instead, Aoi paused at his navel, running his tongue lightly over Kazuki’s piercing. “So sexy,” he said. “So goddamn hot.” And with that, he took the metal hanging from the bottom of the ornament in his teeth and gave it a gentle tug.
“Aaahh!” Kazuki cried. A crazy quilt of hot sensations ran through him, pleasure and pain and the stimulation of over-sensitive nerve endings. He looked down and saw Aoi licking around his piercing, kissing it, tugging it again . . .
He had worshipped Aoi’s piercing, and now Aoi was worshipping his.
“Fuck, you’re hot,” the older man murmured, fingers moving around Kazuki’s body to find the cleft of his ass, stroking it, running his fingers along it. Kazuki moaned softly, moving his hips backward, trying to push the digits into him.
“Oh, you’re eager,” Aoi said, before kissing Kazuki’s navel again. “You want my fingers in you, don’t you? No, not just my fingers.” Another tug with his teeth. “You want my cock. You’ve wanted it a long time, haven’t you? You think of me fucking you when you’re dancing? Well, I’m going to tell you a secret.” Another kiss, a little bite next to the piercing, and then Aoi stood up, putting his fingers under Kazuki’s chin, gently turning his face until they were looking in each other’s eyes.
“I’ve wanted your ass for as long as you’ve wanted my cock,” Aoi said.
And suddenly, Kazuki found himself spun around and pushed over roughly, so he was bending over, hands braced on the seat of the chair, ass pointed toward his new lover. Aoi delivered a sharp smack to one cheek, making Kazuki cry out softly.
“This ass is mine now,” Aoi said, reaching for a bag on the floor next to the boom box (it was still playing, of course it was, but Kazuki sure as hell wasn’t noticing the music at this point) and pulling out a little bottle. He poured it over his fingers, and Kazuki braced himself for the feel of initial penetration.
When he felt it, a finger slippery with lube pressing into him, he let out a moan. The little bit of pain didn’t matter. He just cared for the pleasure, the wonderful, mind-blowing sensation. And Aoi knew just how to do this, just like he knew just how to do everything else. It was like he knew instinctively where every sensitive spot in him was.
He thrust back against the finger, fucking himself on it, moaning, “More, give me more . . .” Aoi delivered, pushing the second finger into him, and Kazuki closed his eyes, letting his head fall forward, lost in sensation.
“So goddamn tight,” Aoi murmured. “A sexy thing who dances like a whore, but his ass is as tight as a virgin’s.” He slipped the third finger in, drawing another moan from Kazuki. “Just a little more,” Aoi said. “Just relax, and you’ll be ready for my cock, and I’m going to fuck you harder and deeper than you’ve ever had it before.”
Kazuki felt the fingers leave him, and he heard his own breathing as he panted, hard, feeling like a bowstring about to snap, like every inch of him was craving the welcome invasion from Aoi. He heard the ripping of a foil packet, the squish of the lube bottle again . . .
Then, hands were grasping his hips, and the biggest cock he’d ever taken was pressing into him. Kazuki gasped, because despite the initial preparation, the entry brought a sharp pain . . .
But it began to melt away as Kazuki relaxed, as his body accommodated the penetration. And then, the pleasure started creeping over him. Slow at first, a nice, warm sensation starting from his ass and radiating over his body in a series of little tingles, and then, gradually building into a flame, making him lean forward, moaning loudly . . .
Oh, God, he just kept pushing in more, and more, filling Kazuki until he thought he’d burst. Aoi paused, leaning over, kissing his new lover’s shoulders and neck . . .
“God, you feel even better than I imagined,” Kazuki panted.
“So do you,” Aoi said. “Fucking incredible.” The hands grasped his hips again. “Ready?”
“Yes,” Kazuki said.
“Then tell me what you want.”
“Fuck me,” Kazuki replied. “Fuck me hard and deep. Fuck me till I scream.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Aoi murmured.
He began to pull back, and Kazuki hissed at the sensation of that huge cock sliding through him, the metal ornament rubbing against sensitive spots. And then, back in again, retracing the same paths, but seeming to stimulate different nerve endings.
The thrusting picked up, each plunge faster, harder, Kazuki clinging to the seat, moaning and panting, feeling beads of sweat running down his skin. His hips moved backward, sharply, taking him deeper still, thinking of nothing but more, he needed more . . .
Aoi was just about pounding into him now, hips pushing forward in sharp, hard motions, hands gripping Kazuki’s ass, his own moans filling the air, almost harmonizing with the other dancer’s. He reached up, raking his nails down Kazuki’s back just hard enough to add a shiver of pain, drawing another cry from his lover.
Then the hand slid around his body, grasping Kazuki’s cock and stroking it, thumb brushing over the head, fingers tracing patterns on the shaft. Kazuki let out a cry. “Aoi . . . Aoi, so good, oh, fuck, oh, fuck . . .”
Aoi thrust a bit harder, changing the angle a little, and Kazuki stiffened, shuddering. He knew he’d hit his prostate. He had the magic bullet to make him come.
“Tell me what you want now,” Aoi said, fingers continuing to brush.
“Come . . . I need to come, Aoi . . .”
“Ask nicer,” Aoi growled.
“Please . . . please, please make me come . . .”
“Will you let me fuck you again later?”
“Yes!” Kazuki cried.
Aoi thrust his hips forward again, aiming for that spot, hitting it hard, then again, and again . . . and Kazuki let out a scream, whole body arcing backward, the most intense orgasm he’d ever felt streaking through his body.
His ass clenched at Aoi’s cock so hard that Aoi followed seconds later, pushing in deep as he cried out, one wave of ecstasy after another washing over him.
The men collapsed to the floor in a heap, panting heavily, trembling from the intensity of the climax. Kazuki snuggled against Aoi, face buried in his shoulder.
“Amazing,” Kazuki said, hoarsely. “Just . . . just unbelievable.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” Aoi turned his head for a kiss, and Kazuki brought their lips together. “You’re even hotter than you look onstage.”
“You’ve been watching me awhile, haven’t you?” Kazuki said.
“Every time you were onstage,” Aoi said. “It’s not just that you’re fucking hot. There’s just something about the way you dance. You’re a natural. Like you were born to do this.” He kissed the other man. “I didn’t just bring you back here to fuck you, you know. I really did want to help you dance even better.”
“I’m not a natural,” Kazuki said. “This wasn’t what I wanted to do, really.”
“Like any of us did?” Aoi said. “Everyone here is trying to be somewhere else. Nobody wants to be a stripper until they get old. Except, well, a lot of guys end up that way.” He nuzzled Kazuki. “So if you don’t want to be a stripper, even though you’re a natural, what is it you want to do?”
“Music,” Kazuki said. “I’m a guitarist. I was in a band, but . . .” He sighed. “They broke up. Around the time my roommate took off.”
“Well, that’s why you’re a natural stripper,” Aoi said. “You’re used to performing, looking sexy and shaking your ass.”
“Ehhh?” Kazuki said, raising his head.
“Come on, you know it’s true,” Aoi said, giving him a lazy smile.
Kazuki sighed (because he was right) and lowered his head. “What about you? What do you want to do?”
Aoi turned his head toward him. “I want to be in porn videos.”
“You . . . want to . . . WHAT?” Okay, that was a shocker. He’d know a couple of guys who wanted to be actors but ended up in porn, but he’d never seen anyone before who actually WANTED to do it.
“Why is it so surprising?” Aoi said. “It’s good money. Some guys have gone from there to real modeling. Besides, I’m hot and I’m a good fuck, so why not use it? It’s why I got into stripping. Porn agents visit clubs all the time. I’ve talked to a couple already.”
“Have you had offers?” Kazuki said.
“Not yet, but they’re putting out some feelers.” He kissed Kazuki. “If I get a part, wanna be my co-star?”
“Me?” Kazuki’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head.
“Of course,” Aoi said. “You’re hot, sexy and a good fuck, too. Hey, it might even help your own music career.”
“But . . . I’ve never thought about . . .”
“Come on, don’t tell me you find the idea at least a little bit hot,” Aoi said in a low, sexy tone. “Having people watch us . . . getting turned on by us . . . fantasizing about being the third person in our bed . . .”
Okay, what he put it like that, it sounded appealing. Maybe a bit too much so. “I’ll think about it,” he said.
“Oh, yes you will,” Aoi said, reaching over and running his hand over Kazuki’s hair.
Kazuki sighed and snuggled closer. “What happens now?” he said.
Aoi looked puzzled. “Well, we go back to my place - it’s right down the street. We rest up a little, and then we fuck again. Then maybe a shower together. You can suck me off - I want to feel that hot mouth around me until I come all over that pretty face.”
“No, I mean . . .” He meant with them, with their relationship. Were things going to go further on a more-than-physical level? Was this the start of them being a couple? Was this . . .
He snuggled against Aoi again. “Never mind.”
“I’m not going to kick you out in the morning, you know,” Aoi said. “And then . . . we’ll see what happens, won’t we?”
A few words, but they carried the promise of more, of a relationship that could grow over time. Kazuki lowered his head to his shoulder again. “Yes,” he said. “We’ll see.”
* * *
They moved in together about a month later, none of the other dancers questioning it or considering it all that unusual. Inter-dancer relationships were rare, but they did happen, and a lot of people said Aoi had his eye on Kazuki for awhile.
The two of them would wake up in the afternoon, shower, eat, go to the club, and perform - sometimes alone, sometimes together. Their dual act never failed to bring down the house, the two of them unfastening and pulling off each other’s clothes while gyrating to the music, touching each other just enough to keep the audience’s imagination going.
After close, they’d go home and have dinner. Kazuki would practice his guitar (even though the resumption of his music career kept being put more and more on hold) and Aoi would go on Twitter (still connecting with porn agents, though the commencement of his gay adult video career kept getting put on hold, too).
But always, always, after that, they’d put down what they were doing and go in their bedroom, or in the shower, or sometimes just on the couch. And they’d give each other what they’d only promised their audience - hot, wild sex.
Sex with Kazuki on his knees or pressed against the wall or straddling Aoi, sex where they’d just 69 or rub against each other until they both shuddered in ecstasy, sex where they switched their usual roles, Kazuki pounding into Aoi’s body the way Aoi usually pounded into him.
Afterward, they’d kiss, and cuddle, and talk. Because what was between them wasn’t just sex. It was sharing, on all levels - the kind of thing Kazuki now knew he’d wanted all his life (maybe more than he’d wanted to perform at Tokyo Dome). At Christmas, they planned to go back up north and visit their families - something any couple would do.
It wasn’t as if Kazuki set out to be a stripper. But given where that path was taking him, he was very glad that he had.
Chapter: Standalone
Author: Boots
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Stripper AU. Pure PWP Smut
Warnings: Male/male sex, deep throating, slight D/s, piercing worship/play
Pairing: Aoi X Kazuki
Disclaimer: Boys belong to PS Company, I own the story only.
Summary: Kazuki is a newbie stripper obsessed with Aoi, the club superstar. Aoi invites him backstage for a lesson - but is his interest just professional?
Comments: Written for the GazettE Kink/Porn Meme. Prompt: Aoi/Poledancer!Kazuki. It can be an AU where Kazuki is a strip club newbie and Aoi a veteran stripper, or one where Kazuki is the stripper and Aoi the strip club patron, or even a non-AU where Kazuki acts out a stripper fantasy for Aoi. I just want to see this played out. (Complete with navel piercing play). Also inspired by this photoset, this photoset and this photoset. Dedicated to everyone who showed me support during my difficult times - you guys are the best.
It wasn’t as if Kazuki had set out to be a stripper. That wasn’t exactly his original career goal. He was going to be a musician, fill live houses across Japan, maybe stand on the stage of Tokyo Dome someday.
That was the dream. The reality was a pile of bills, a band that was falling apart and a roommate who took off all of a sudden, sticking him with everything. He needed money, and fast. Fortunately, there was a club down the road from him that was hiring.
What the hell, he thought. He’d been told he was attractive. He knew how to shake his ass - he’d done it for lovers plenty of times. And he was pierced in a manner that was suitable for both visual kei and strip clubs.
Fine, so he’d do it for a few months, stockpile some yen and then quit. Not like it would particularly damage his music career, right? He’d heard of guys who did far worse before they were famous, and still went on to have success.
* * *
Peace and Smile Club - PSC to its employees - might have a deceptively innocent name, but the club itself was anything but. As gay strip clubs went, it was what was considered a “classy joint” - meaning both the venue and the dancers looked clean and well-maintained.
The centerpiece of the place was a light-ringed stage, complete with a catwalk, where the boys did their work. At either end were two poles, which was where the real money was made. (Kazuki learned fast to conceal an antiseptic wipe somewhere in his tight and skimpy costume and give the poles a quick and discreet once-over before he started to dance, while the stage lights were still lowered. Any number of body parts had made contact with those things - one dancer, Ruki, was a master at pole-licking).
And then, there were the tables throughout the room, filled with men all too happy to slip 500-yen coins into his hand - or shove bills of much bigger numbers into his G-string, if they were rich and drunk enough. He’d had more than a few invitations to come home with a customer, which he always declined.
He did, however, occasionally accept an offer to give a client a private dance in a back room. These were dimly lit little cubbyholes with one piece of furniture - a chair. The customer sat there while the dancer performed a series of gyrations for him, and then perched in his lap and started wriggling.
Technically, the boys were supposed to stop when they felt the customer start to become aroused - but they all kept going until the man arched up against them, letting out a strangled cry as he came in his pants.
The tips were much bigger if they got the customer off. And, Kazuki always told himself, it’s not prostitution if the customer keeps his pants on.
* * *
He realized the real reason he was still working here - well, other than the money - about three months after he started at the club.
Aoi was one of the longest-tenured dancers there - just about all of the other boys referred to him as “sempai.” He was also one of the most popular with the customers - they called him “Superstar.” Lord knew he was gorgeous - tall and thin, but with finely sculpted muscles and a full mouth.
Kazuki noticed him right away, of course. It would be impossible not to. He walked into the dressing room while all the dancers were getting ready, and all at once, it was as if he owned the place. Heads tuned everywhere to look at him. When he pulled out a cigarette, lighters flicked throughout the room, competing to light it.
Kazuki had been talking to another dancer the first time he saw Aoi come in. The conversation ended at that moment, of course - the superstar always commanded full attention. However, he must have overheard a bit of their talk, because the first thing he said to Kazuki was, “Hey - are you from the Kansai region, too?”
“Yes,” Kazuki said, turning to the newcomer with a bright smile. “There’s not many of us here, I’m afraid.”
“More like just you and me,” Aoi replied. “Getting kind of lonely with all these Kanto boys around.” He gave him a sly smile. “We need to get together more often.”
Kazuki felt his heart catch in his throat - was he behaving like a high school boy over this guy? Oh, yes, he was. “Yes, let’s! I need to find more people from back home.”
But Aoi didn’t seek him out after the club closed that night. He just melted into the darkness, a confused Kazuki left looking around and asking about him.
He didn’t say one word to Kazuki the next night, or the night after that. But then, all of a sudden, he came up to him in the dressing room again. “Hey - you’re pretty good for a newbie, you know that?”
“Oh, thanks,” Kazuki said, giving him a wide smile. “I haven’t really done this before.”
“You haven’t?” Aoi said. “You’re a natural. Just the kind of guy they look for around here.”
“What about you?” Kazuki asked. “You seem like you were born doing this. Did you have any kind of dance training?”
“Dance training?” Aoi gave a rueful laugh. “Nah. There’s other ways to learn about this stuff. Sometimes, you just have to feel it, you know.”
“Could you give me pointers sometime?” Kazuki said. “You know, advice? Share your knowledge?”
“Now, if I did that, what kind of superstar would I be?” Aoi said. “I can’t just go around telling everyone what makes me special. It would ruin the magic.” And then, he leaned over and whispered, “Maybe some night, after hours . . .”
But for the next couple of days, he said nothing to Kazuki. Again. Kazuki began to wonder if Aoi had any real interest in him at all, or if he just enjoyed teasing guys and stringing them along.
It went on like this for some time - Aoi talking to Kazuki, sharing stories from back home, praising his performances . . . and then, a couple of nights of silence. And Kazuki began to realize it was turning into an addiction.
He craved those little bits of attention from Aoi. He felt his breath catch whenever the superstar made his grand entrance, wondering if tonight was the night he’d get more than a few moments of attention. But sometimes, there was nothing at all.
And he began to realize he’d passed the deadline he’d set for himself for quitting the club. Two months had passed. Then three, stretching out toward four. It wasn’t a matter of money - he’d paid off all his debts handily, and was even starting to put some cash away.
No, it was Aoi, dammit. Aoi was rapidly becoming the reason he came to the club. Aoi was the motivation behind his dances - every one of them was an imaginary fuck-session with the tall, beautiful man. When he did the bump and grind, he saw himself thrusting back against the taller man as he pounded into him. When he slid along the pole, he thought of rubbing against the other man’s body.
And when he went into the back room with strangers, he imagined it was Aoi’s lap he was sitting on, Aoi’s cock against his ass - but in his fantasy, both of them were naked, and the cock wasn’t staying outside him.
Always, always, he wondered if Aoi was watching him when he danced, and what he thought. Was he getting turned on as well? Did he think about Kazuki the way Kazuki thought about him?
* * *
There came a night where Kazuki was on stage, doing a slow, sensuous pole routine. Unbuttoning his shirt, sliding his hands over his own chest, moving just so in order to let the light catch his navel ring, wrapping a thigh around the pole and rubbing his torso against it, up and down, as if envisioning a lover.
And he felt eyes on him. Of course, there was always the appreciative glances of the men in the audience. But this was one very intent stare - he felt like he was being looked at up and down, undressed with this person’s eyes before his own hands had a chance to do the undressing.
He grasped hold of the pole and spun around it, and that’s when he caught sight of someone in the corner, in the shadows right off the stage, eyes fastened to him as if they’d been glued.
Aoi? Was he imagining things? Oh, no, he wasn’t - it was the superstar, the sempai to them all, and his eyes were for Kazuki, and only Kazuki.
Suddenly, the rest of the room vanished. It became a private performance, a show put on for this man alone, displaying his body, wriggling, sticking his fingers down the front of his pants and licking his lips before finally sliding the garment down.
He bent over, wriggling a bottom almost completely bared by his G-string, not hearing the whoops and whistles of the crowd, just thinking of one man seeing it, appreciating it.
When his act was over, he turned toward the crowd with a smile, hand held over his head triumphantly, listening to the thunderous applause - and scanning the spot where Aoi was standing before, looking for his reaction to the end of the routine. But Aoi was gone.
Later, as he was moving through the men in the audience, accepting tips and turning down invitations, he felt something slipped into his hand that most definitely wasn’t a 500 yen coin, or a bill of larger denomination. It was a tiny, folded up piece of paper.
On it was lettering, written with a thick, black pen. “Back room 3 after close,” it said. “Come dressed for a performance. Aoi.”
Kazuki suddenly froze, his head spinning. What was this? Aoi wanted a private performance after hours? Was this some kind of a joke? Was this one of the other dancers, trying to play some sort of prank on . . . no, wait, none of the other dancers knew he liked Aoi, did they? He’d kept that tightly under wraps.
Fine, he’d go. He knew if he didn’t, he’d regret it and kick himself for hours, wondering about what could have happened.
* * *
He slipped into the washroom as the other dancers were packing up to leave. He didn’t want to explain why he was getting dressed and made up as if he were going on stage again - jacket, shirt, tight shorts, garters, boots.
When the dressing room was quiet, he snuck out and made a beeline for the back rooms, those cubbyholes where they gave lap dances that sometimes went too far. Door 3 was unlocked. He turned the knob, holding his breath, and pushed inward.
Aoi was sitting on the plain lap dance chair, making it look like a king’s throne. He wasn’t dressed for a performance. Quite the opposite - he was wearing a brief pair of black shorts and nothing else. Kazuki just stood there, barely breathing, eyes wandering over the long, slender limbs, the finely sculpted chest.
“What the hell are you standing there like that for?” Aoi said. “Close the door and come in.”
Kazuki shut the door behind him, hoping to God he wasn’t slamming it, and walked into the room, toward the chair, toward the most mesmerizing man he’d ever seen in his life. He watched Aoi lift a hand off the armrest of the chair, bring it down beside him . . .
And flick the switch of an old-school CD boombox. Pulsing, thumping music filled the air.
“I said this was a performance,” Aoi said. “Dance.”
Just like that? Just . . . start dancing? Well, this wasn’t quite what he was expecting - but what DID he expect, for that matter? Did he think Aoi was going to just molest him then and there?
He took a deep breath, and then started to move as if he were onstage, hips swaying, hands coming up to tousle his own hair, the initial tease before starting to remove his clothes.
“Not like that,” Aoi said.
Kazuki suddenly stopped, and just looked at Aoi, startled.
“Did I tell you to stop?” Aoi said. “Keep dancing. Only not with those herky-jerky movements in your hands. They’re attracting attention away from your body. Make everything smooth. Like liquid. Pretend your arms are made of liquid, and they’re flowing.”
Kazuki thought about what he was saying. Liquid . . . flowing . . . he started to do the hand motions again, this time concentrating on it more, making the motions slower, more sensuous . . .
“Move your hips with your hands,” Aoi said. “Same rhythm. You’re one being, and you’re moving all at once. Every part of you is one with the music. So just . . . feel it. Everywhere.”
Kazuki concentrated, feeling the music, taking it into his veins, letting it radiate through every part of him, from his ears to his belly to his arms and legs and, yes, even his cock . . . The more he concentrated, the more he felt it, the easier it became. His body was moving with the rhythm, effortlessly, hips swaying, arms gyrating.
“Good,” Aoi said. “Very good. You look even sexier now. You’re the man every guy in that audience wants to have. Are you going to give them what they want?”
He figured this was his cue to start undressing. He reached down and started unbuttoning the jacket, unfastening each button deliberately . . .
“Not so slow all the time,” Aoi said. “Undo a couple slowly, then a few more quickly - make them think they’re going to see you right away. Then, just when you have them convinced, undo that last button as slowly as hell. Frustrate them.”
Kazuki did what he was told, working that last button out of the hole, then pushing it back in, then working it out again. “Good,” Aoi murmured. “They’ll want to see you now. They’ll be panting for a glimpse of what’s underneath. They’ll be undressing you with their eyes . . .”
Kazuki turned his back to Aoi, sliding the jacket down his arms, letting it drop to the floor. He pulled up the hem of his shirt a little, exposing a strip of skin, hearing his audience of one say, “That’s it . . . give them just enough. Make them want it. Make them imagine every inch of you. And then, you let them have it.”
Kazuki turned around, rolling his hips, letting his tongue flick out a little. His eyes locked with Aoi’s . . . oh, yes, the other man was giving him a heated gaze. This might be the lesson to teach his secrets Aoi had promised him awhile back, but Kazuki was beginning to wonder if it was all professional.
Well, he was going to make sure it was more than that, wasn’t he?
He began to unbutton his shirt from the top, reaching in as if to caress his own nipple, letting his face show an expression of bliss. “Hold that for a moment,” Aoi said. “Let them imagine you naked and pleasuring yourself. Then let them imagine themselves pleasuring you. They’re all going to want to lick and suck that nipple you’re touching, even before they see it.”
Oh, God, his words were turning Kazuki on. How many times had he imagined Aoi licking and sucking his nipples - and other parts of him? He just hoped he wasn’t getting hard as he unbuttoned his shirt - slow, then quick, then slow, like he had with his jacket. He turned around, flashing a coy smile over his shoulder . . .
“Don’t be so sweet about it,” Aoi said. “Give them a smirk. You’re the fucking king here. You have them all by the balls and you know it. Now, act like it.”
Kazuki gave him a smirk, then spun around, pulling his shirt off and flinging it in the corner. He didn’t have a spotlight now to shine on his navel piercing, making it glitter - something he knew always turned on his audience. No matter. He caressed his own chest, rolling his hips, staring at his audience of one with eyes of fire.
“Now you move in for the kill,” Aoi said. “They want to see those pants come off. Tease them by dancing. It’s all in the roll of the hips - slow and deliberate. Pretend you’re fucking every one of them, because you are. Pretend you’re in the middle of the most amazing fuck you ever had.”
Kazuki rolled his hips, and in his head there was a vision of Aoi, naked, behind him, cock slamming into him, hard . . .
“Oh, yes, that’s it,” Aoi said, voice beginning to take on a husky tone. “Go on. Keep doing it. You’ll have every man wanting a private dance. Now touch yourself - fingers just under your waistband.”
Kazuki had his eyes locked on Aoi’s face now. The other man was flushed, pupils dilated, obviously in the throes of lust. And Kazuki gave that lust right back to him, in his own heated stare, the sway of his hips, the way his fingers slid under the waistband, then, out, then under again . . .
And then, he brought them to his mouth and sucked, knowing full well this wasn’t part of his performance. This was pure open invitation. You gave me your dance secrets, he was saying to Aoi without words, let me give you something in return. Let me offer you my mouth, my ass. Let me feel you filling me every way I can be filled.
He reached down, slowly and deliberately undoing the garters, and then peeled the shorts down, down, down, over his thighs, his boots, to the floor. He stepped out of them, standing before Aoi in just his G-string.
And then, he took his performance one step further, further than he did for an audience, fingers hooking in the last garment, pushing it down and off, letting Aoi know of his full intentions. He stood up and faced him proudly, knowing full well his cock was hardening. Good. Let Aoi see how turned on he was.
Aoi gave him a smirk, the same kind he’d instructed him to give an audience earlier. “So, you can do more than dance,” he said, and stood up, reaching for the waistband of his own shorts. He pushed them down, and off . . .
Oh, WOW. He was big, damn big, and beautifully formed - the kind of cock you’d see carved on ancient stone fertility idols. And, dear God, was that . . . a piercing at the tip, just under the head? It was. Holy HELL. Kazuki had heard about those kind of things, but he’d never known anyone bold enough to get one - until now.
He stalked toward Aoi, trying to keep his eyes on the other man’s eyes, not on that amazing cock. “I can do plenty,” he said. “Want to see?”
“We’ll see how much you can do.” Aoi settled back in the chair, legs apart, cock fully exposed, an open invitation if there ever was one. “On your knees.”
Kazuki crossed the final couple of feet between them and dropped, his knees hitting the floor with a hard smack, not noticing the little bit of pain. And there, in front of him, was the most glorious cock he’d ever seen in his life.
He leaned over and began to kiss it, his lips brushing the hard, hot flesh with the kind of reverence one would expect from a worshipper before an idol. His tongue slid out, touching the base, beginning to move upward . . .
Aoi let out a hum of pleasure, one hand coming to rest on Kazuki’s head. “Nice,” he murmured. “Work it slow. Like that. We have all night.”
Kazuki licked upwards, savoring the feel of it, the musky taste and scent. Everything about this man seemed twice as erotic, twice as sensual, as any lover he’d had before. It was like Aoi was designed by some love god precisely to give pleasure.
He reached the ornament, the piercing, and flicked his tongue around it, figuring that flesh would be extra-sensitive - and he was right. The hand on his hair tightened a little, pulling a tiny bit. “Oh, yes,” Aoi moaned. “You know just what to do, don’t you?”
Kazuki responded by opening his lips and sliding down on the head of Aoi’s cock, focusing on keeping his head and neck in as straight a line as possible so he could take him deep, deeper . . . He swallowed a little, then pushed down further still, feeling the metal ornament bump on the back of his throat - which came close to choking him. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose, though, and held on.
And he was rewarded by a long, low moan from Aoi and a cry of, “Oh, fuck!” The hand in his hair tugged harder, the bit of pain sending a wild shudder of pleasure through Kazuki’s body, just inspiring him to give Aoi more.
He started to suck, moving his head backward until only the tip was still encased. He teased the ornament with his tongue, flicking across it, sucking, then flicking again. “Oh, my God,” Aoi moaned, and that became a wordless, strangled cry as Kazuki moved down again, taking him in his throat.
Kazuki moved up, then down, every sound Aoi made the sweetest music to his ears, the sensation of cock sliding across lips and tongue more luscious to him than the finest wine. He loved sucking cock anyway, but this wasn’t like any experience he’d ever had. It was making him almost as hot as having Aoi’s hands all over him would.
Finally, on an outstroke, Aoi tugged his hair again and said, “Stop . . . stop . . . if you don’t, I’m going to come, and I’m not coming without fucking you.”
Kazuki moved away, giving Aoi a sly smile, licking his lips. “Guess you like it?” he said in a teasing voice.
“Stand up,” Aoi said, rather shakily. “Just stand up, right here . . .”
Kazuki rose to his feet, and Aoi along with him. The two men’s arms wrapped around each other, and their mouths met in a hot kiss, tongues coming into play almost immediately. They explored each other’s mouths, seeking and finding every sensitive spot they could, stroking and pressing against them to make the other man moan even more.
When they broke apart, Aoi leaned down so his mouth could close over Kazuki’s nipple, sucking it hard, scraping it with his teeth, a mixture of pleasure and pain that almost made the younger man’s knees buckle.
“Aoi,” he moaned, tangling his fingers in the other dancer’s hair as he moved to the other nipple, biting it lightly, then tonguing it, then sucking again. Kazuki closed his eyes as he panted heavily, every fantasy he’d had about this man suddenly brought to vivid, hot life . . .
He felt Aoi’s tongue start to slide down his stomach, and he gasped, anticipating his mouth wrapping around his cock, a return of the favor he’d paid the other man before.
Instead, Aoi paused at his navel, running his tongue lightly over Kazuki’s piercing. “So sexy,” he said. “So goddamn hot.” And with that, he took the metal hanging from the bottom of the ornament in his teeth and gave it a gentle tug.
“Aaahh!” Kazuki cried. A crazy quilt of hot sensations ran through him, pleasure and pain and the stimulation of over-sensitive nerve endings. He looked down and saw Aoi licking around his piercing, kissing it, tugging it again . . .
He had worshipped Aoi’s piercing, and now Aoi was worshipping his.
“Fuck, you’re hot,” the older man murmured, fingers moving around Kazuki’s body to find the cleft of his ass, stroking it, running his fingers along it. Kazuki moaned softly, moving his hips backward, trying to push the digits into him.
“Oh, you’re eager,” Aoi said, before kissing Kazuki’s navel again. “You want my fingers in you, don’t you? No, not just my fingers.” Another tug with his teeth. “You want my cock. You’ve wanted it a long time, haven’t you? You think of me fucking you when you’re dancing? Well, I’m going to tell you a secret.” Another kiss, a little bite next to the piercing, and then Aoi stood up, putting his fingers under Kazuki’s chin, gently turning his face until they were looking in each other’s eyes.
“I’ve wanted your ass for as long as you’ve wanted my cock,” Aoi said.
And suddenly, Kazuki found himself spun around and pushed over roughly, so he was bending over, hands braced on the seat of the chair, ass pointed toward his new lover. Aoi delivered a sharp smack to one cheek, making Kazuki cry out softly.
“This ass is mine now,” Aoi said, reaching for a bag on the floor next to the boom box (it was still playing, of course it was, but Kazuki sure as hell wasn’t noticing the music at this point) and pulling out a little bottle. He poured it over his fingers, and Kazuki braced himself for the feel of initial penetration.
When he felt it, a finger slippery with lube pressing into him, he let out a moan. The little bit of pain didn’t matter. He just cared for the pleasure, the wonderful, mind-blowing sensation. And Aoi knew just how to do this, just like he knew just how to do everything else. It was like he knew instinctively where every sensitive spot in him was.
He thrust back against the finger, fucking himself on it, moaning, “More, give me more . . .” Aoi delivered, pushing the second finger into him, and Kazuki closed his eyes, letting his head fall forward, lost in sensation.
“So goddamn tight,” Aoi murmured. “A sexy thing who dances like a whore, but his ass is as tight as a virgin’s.” He slipped the third finger in, drawing another moan from Kazuki. “Just a little more,” Aoi said. “Just relax, and you’ll be ready for my cock, and I’m going to fuck you harder and deeper than you’ve ever had it before.”
Kazuki felt the fingers leave him, and he heard his own breathing as he panted, hard, feeling like a bowstring about to snap, like every inch of him was craving the welcome invasion from Aoi. He heard the ripping of a foil packet, the squish of the lube bottle again . . .
Then, hands were grasping his hips, and the biggest cock he’d ever taken was pressing into him. Kazuki gasped, because despite the initial preparation, the entry brought a sharp pain . . .
But it began to melt away as Kazuki relaxed, as his body accommodated the penetration. And then, the pleasure started creeping over him. Slow at first, a nice, warm sensation starting from his ass and radiating over his body in a series of little tingles, and then, gradually building into a flame, making him lean forward, moaning loudly . . .
Oh, God, he just kept pushing in more, and more, filling Kazuki until he thought he’d burst. Aoi paused, leaning over, kissing his new lover’s shoulders and neck . . .
“God, you feel even better than I imagined,” Kazuki panted.
“So do you,” Aoi said. “Fucking incredible.” The hands grasped his hips again. “Ready?”
“Yes,” Kazuki said.
“Then tell me what you want.”
“Fuck me,” Kazuki replied. “Fuck me hard and deep. Fuck me till I scream.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Aoi murmured.
He began to pull back, and Kazuki hissed at the sensation of that huge cock sliding through him, the metal ornament rubbing against sensitive spots. And then, back in again, retracing the same paths, but seeming to stimulate different nerve endings.
The thrusting picked up, each plunge faster, harder, Kazuki clinging to the seat, moaning and panting, feeling beads of sweat running down his skin. His hips moved backward, sharply, taking him deeper still, thinking of nothing but more, he needed more . . .
Aoi was just about pounding into him now, hips pushing forward in sharp, hard motions, hands gripping Kazuki’s ass, his own moans filling the air, almost harmonizing with the other dancer’s. He reached up, raking his nails down Kazuki’s back just hard enough to add a shiver of pain, drawing another cry from his lover.
Then the hand slid around his body, grasping Kazuki’s cock and stroking it, thumb brushing over the head, fingers tracing patterns on the shaft. Kazuki let out a cry. “Aoi . . . Aoi, so good, oh, fuck, oh, fuck . . .”
Aoi thrust a bit harder, changing the angle a little, and Kazuki stiffened, shuddering. He knew he’d hit his prostate. He had the magic bullet to make him come.
“Tell me what you want now,” Aoi said, fingers continuing to brush.
“Come . . . I need to come, Aoi . . .”
“Ask nicer,” Aoi growled.
“Please . . . please, please make me come . . .”
“Will you let me fuck you again later?”
“Yes!” Kazuki cried.
Aoi thrust his hips forward again, aiming for that spot, hitting it hard, then again, and again . . . and Kazuki let out a scream, whole body arcing backward, the most intense orgasm he’d ever felt streaking through his body.
His ass clenched at Aoi’s cock so hard that Aoi followed seconds later, pushing in deep as he cried out, one wave of ecstasy after another washing over him.
The men collapsed to the floor in a heap, panting heavily, trembling from the intensity of the climax. Kazuki snuggled against Aoi, face buried in his shoulder.
“Amazing,” Kazuki said, hoarsely. “Just . . . just unbelievable.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” Aoi turned his head for a kiss, and Kazuki brought their lips together. “You’re even hotter than you look onstage.”
“You’ve been watching me awhile, haven’t you?” Kazuki said.
“Every time you were onstage,” Aoi said. “It’s not just that you’re fucking hot. There’s just something about the way you dance. You’re a natural. Like you were born to do this.” He kissed the other man. “I didn’t just bring you back here to fuck you, you know. I really did want to help you dance even better.”
“I’m not a natural,” Kazuki said. “This wasn’t what I wanted to do, really.”
“Like any of us did?” Aoi said. “Everyone here is trying to be somewhere else. Nobody wants to be a stripper until they get old. Except, well, a lot of guys end up that way.” He nuzzled Kazuki. “So if you don’t want to be a stripper, even though you’re a natural, what is it you want to do?”
“Music,” Kazuki said. “I’m a guitarist. I was in a band, but . . .” He sighed. “They broke up. Around the time my roommate took off.”
“Well, that’s why you’re a natural stripper,” Aoi said. “You’re used to performing, looking sexy and shaking your ass.”
“Ehhh?” Kazuki said, raising his head.
“Come on, you know it’s true,” Aoi said, giving him a lazy smile.
Kazuki sighed (because he was right) and lowered his head. “What about you? What do you want to do?”
Aoi turned his head toward him. “I want to be in porn videos.”
“You . . . want to . . . WHAT?” Okay, that was a shocker. He’d know a couple of guys who wanted to be actors but ended up in porn, but he’d never seen anyone before who actually WANTED to do it.
“Why is it so surprising?” Aoi said. “It’s good money. Some guys have gone from there to real modeling. Besides, I’m hot and I’m a good fuck, so why not use it? It’s why I got into stripping. Porn agents visit clubs all the time. I’ve talked to a couple already.”
“Have you had offers?” Kazuki said.
“Not yet, but they’re putting out some feelers.” He kissed Kazuki. “If I get a part, wanna be my co-star?”
“Me?” Kazuki’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head.
“Of course,” Aoi said. “You’re hot, sexy and a good fuck, too. Hey, it might even help your own music career.”
“But . . . I’ve never thought about . . .”
“Come on, don’t tell me you find the idea at least a little bit hot,” Aoi said in a low, sexy tone. “Having people watch us . . . getting turned on by us . . . fantasizing about being the third person in our bed . . .”
Okay, what he put it like that, it sounded appealing. Maybe a bit too much so. “I’ll think about it,” he said.
“Oh, yes you will,” Aoi said, reaching over and running his hand over Kazuki’s hair.
Kazuki sighed and snuggled closer. “What happens now?” he said.
Aoi looked puzzled. “Well, we go back to my place - it’s right down the street. We rest up a little, and then we fuck again. Then maybe a shower together. You can suck me off - I want to feel that hot mouth around me until I come all over that pretty face.”
“No, I mean . . .” He meant with them, with their relationship. Were things going to go further on a more-than-physical level? Was this the start of them being a couple? Was this . . .
He snuggled against Aoi again. “Never mind.”
“I’m not going to kick you out in the morning, you know,” Aoi said. “And then . . . we’ll see what happens, won’t we?”
A few words, but they carried the promise of more, of a relationship that could grow over time. Kazuki lowered his head to his shoulder again. “Yes,” he said. “We’ll see.”
* * *
They moved in together about a month later, none of the other dancers questioning it or considering it all that unusual. Inter-dancer relationships were rare, but they did happen, and a lot of people said Aoi had his eye on Kazuki for awhile.
The two of them would wake up in the afternoon, shower, eat, go to the club, and perform - sometimes alone, sometimes together. Their dual act never failed to bring down the house, the two of them unfastening and pulling off each other’s clothes while gyrating to the music, touching each other just enough to keep the audience’s imagination going.
After close, they’d go home and have dinner. Kazuki would practice his guitar (even though the resumption of his music career kept being put more and more on hold) and Aoi would go on Twitter (still connecting with porn agents, though the commencement of his gay adult video career kept getting put on hold, too).
But always, always, after that, they’d put down what they were doing and go in their bedroom, or in the shower, or sometimes just on the couch. And they’d give each other what they’d only promised their audience - hot, wild sex.
Sex with Kazuki on his knees or pressed against the wall or straddling Aoi, sex where they’d just 69 or rub against each other until they both shuddered in ecstasy, sex where they switched their usual roles, Kazuki pounding into Aoi’s body the way Aoi usually pounded into him.
Afterward, they’d kiss, and cuddle, and talk. Because what was between them wasn’t just sex. It was sharing, on all levels - the kind of thing Kazuki now knew he’d wanted all his life (maybe more than he’d wanted to perform at Tokyo Dome). At Christmas, they planned to go back up north and visit their families - something any couple would do.
It wasn’t as if Kazuki set out to be a stripper. But given where that path was taking him, he was very glad that he had.