Page 35 of Trouble

He slapped my ass again and then sprayed my back and legs down. I shivered as he used the rubber hand to even out some of the oil. “Do you really have to use that thing?”

“I’m not smoothing the oil on your ass, dickwad. We might be brothers, but we’re not those kind of brothers.”

“There shouldn’t be ‘those kind’ of brothers to speak of. Just like you shouldn’t joke about sister-cousins, you moron.”

It was Hollywood’s turn to roll his eyes at me. “Turn around and let me get the front, and if you have a stiffy, I’m telling my sister-cousin that I turned you on.”

“I’m about two seconds away from shooting you, Hollywood.”

He shrugged then sprayed my chest. “Close your eyes, so I don’t over spray.” The minute I did the asshole tapped me in the junk with that fucking hand. Luckily for him, he ran after that, but I could hear him laughing all the way back out to the main floor of the club. I would have to go out there and dance in front of all the horny women of our town, some of whom I’d fucked before. Plus, the humiliation of knowing that my club brothers would be watching along with my woman and everyone else. And thanks to Hollywood, I had to do that with sore balls and my ass on fire. I wasn’t sure what kind of oil he sprayed me down with but it had started to heat up on my skin, which made the raw areas from the wax feel infinitely worse.

“You son of a bitch!” I yelled just as the music queued up with my intro. Fuck. No time to turn back or wash the bullshit off. I would hopefully sweat it off while I danced. And knowing my woman, she wouldn’t leave me up there too long. She’d want to throw me over her shoulder and cart me away like I had done all three times I’d found her next to naked on the stage. She wouldn’t be able to, but I’d go with her the minute she rushed the stage.

“Ladies and uh… Gentlemen?” The announcer sounded confused by all the men in the house for ladies night. “Paramour has something a little special for your viewing pleasure tonight!”

“Come on, quit with the suspense and announce me already, my ass is on fire!” I demanded. It was too quiet for anyone to hear, but it made me feel better anyway. I also missed someof his introduction, so I was a bit startled when the curtains moved, the spotlight hit me dead in the eyes, and the announcer bellowed: “Here comes Trouble!”

The real song I was supposed to dance to came on.

“I’m just a bachelor

I’m looking for a partner”

I moseyed on out to center stage with the duster pulled tight. Damn thing was going to be ruined with the oil Hollywood sprayed on me. I had a sneaking suspicion he used warming KY-Jelly in the mix with the way my skin had caught on absolute fire.

As soon as the first part of the chorus hit, I pulled the duster open, slipped it off and threw it into the crowd. Hollywood could wrestle whoever caught it, if he wanted it back. I couldn’t see who anyone was with that fucking spotlight in my face. How did anyone do this for a living? How the hell had Trinity seen me coming all those times? It was fucking impossible. She had to have some kind of third eye sense or something.

I dipped and spun so my ass faced the crowd and only then realized that the choreography sucked for my position. I was ass out as the lyrics said, “Ride it, my pony. My saddle’s waitin’. Come and jump on it.”

I heard the men of my club hoot and holler from the back of the room as the women in the crowd went wild. Where the hell was my woman? The minute one of the women reached out and touched my ankle, I broke. I stood up, thong-covered dick standing proud in its not even close to hard state, and tried to find my woman between the blaring lights.

“Where the fuck is my woman?”

“Oh! Hi!” Trinity yelled and waved to me from somewhere near the bar.

“Oh! Hi?” I questioned. “Why aren’t you up here trying to get me off the stage? Do you realize how much everyone can see?”

“I realized. I was too entertained to bother with dragging you to the back, baby. Sorry.” I tossed my hands up on my hips, exasperated with her. She winced. “You probably shouldn’t make any sudden movements, babe.”

I glanced down and realized the position had my junk fully on display and one of my balls was in danger of falling out the side of the thong. I wished like hell I had dropped the duster on the stage instead of flinging the fucking thing like a lunatic. I slowly started to back toward the stage exit and that was when the shit really hit the fan. Some of the oil Hollywood sprayed on me had dripped all over the stage, and my boot caught a good little puddle. The next thing I knew, I was ass over tea kettled and flopping around on the stage because my oily fucking skin kept slipping on the polished wood every time I tried to get up. It looked like I was trying to do the worm and having a seizure all at the same time. Eventually, I gave up and banged my head on the floor as everyone in the whole fucking club laughed riotously.

My love finally came to my rescue after she let me humiliate myself. She had managed to rescue the duster from some poor woman’s loving arms and wrapped it around my ass as she helped me to my knees and then finally to a stand. The asshole announcer, who was going to have a few less teeth in his mouth when I got done with him, shouted: There goes Trouble, ladies and gentlemen.” Then he topped it off with, “Clean up on center stage!” I could still hear the peels of laughter as we worked our way slowly back to Trinity’s office. Her whole body shook and her face turned red as a beet as she tried to hold her laughter in and ultimately failed. We got the office door open as the tears started to pour down her face from laughing so hard.

“That was not how that was supposed to go,” I muttered.

“No?” She questioned between howls of laughter. Trinity clutched her belly with her arms and doubled over as I slammed the door shut.

“I’d fuck your mouth shut, but I’m too sore to care at the moment.”

“Aww,” she cried out, though it didn’t really sound like a sound of sincere sympathy when she couldn’t stop laughing. “Poor baby. Come here, let me see.” She turned me around and pulled the duster up. “Your ass looked red from on stage, but honestly, we might need to call 9-1-1 for this.”

“We will not call a fucking ambulance for my red ass,” I growled.

She held her hands up and the duster fell back into place. “What exactly was that supposed to be?”

“You were supposed to get pissed the way I do and tell me you understand now why you should never be naked on stage again.”

“I wear pasties and a thong. That’s not naked,” she reminded me.

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