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Angel Reviews
TORRID
~ A Shounen-ai Romance
~
Yaoi Short Fiction
Cover
Art by Eiris
Key
Wicked Dance...
Blond-haired,
bespectacled, and affable, Trey, a Ballroom Dance
instructor, was innocently shopping at an Adult store
for a male g-string. As one of the few men in town
that could actually dance, he’d been hired to strip
for a bachelorette party.
Coincidentally, dark haired and aggressive Kenshin
Asano, Martial Arts instructor, just happened to be
shopping at the same Adult store – though for a very
different reason.
What could it hurt to flirt, just a little?
Alas, someone
is about to discover what happens when they play with
fire.
~
0 ~
"My sister asked me to find a good
looking guy that can actually dance, to be a male
stripper for her bachelorette party. Want to do it?"
Leonora, tall, elegant, raven-curled and blessed with
curves for days, smiled from behind her broad desk.
Trey set the last aluminum chair against
the white-washed wall and looked up the long studio
floor at the ballroom dance school's proprietress
sitting at the far end, close by the double-door entrance.
"Your sister wants a what?" He sauntered
across the heavily waxed dance floor to perch on the
edge of her desk.
Leonora tapped the leather-bound appointment
book before her with her decorative green and yellow
ball-point. Her red nails gleamed under the studio's
bright lights. "She wants a male stripper."
"Huh." Trey pulled at the
elastic holding his fine, straight hair in its customary
tail. He freed it long enough to comb it through his
fingers, then bound it neatly back into its tail.
"So, why not hire one from the phone book?"
He stood up and turned sideways to tuck his discreetly
pleated tuxedo shirt back into his snug black dance
pants.
That afternoon's salsa class had been
pretty rowdy. A bunch of excitable housewives had
brought their less than enthused husbands. The husbands
had warmed up as soon as they saw how hot all the
hip-shaking got their wives.
"Forget the phone book." Leonora
scowled. Not pretty with all that red lipstick. "My
sister wants a man that knows how to dance. Most male
strippers suck at it."
"Oh." Trey frowned and folded
his arms. "So you think I'd be better?
"Look, you're amazingly cute, long
blond hair, blue eyes, you're built, and you dance
like raw sex when you're in the mood. You're perfect."
Leonora held out his gold, wire-framed glasses. "It's
worth five hundred bucks."
Trey froze, hand outstretched. "Five
hundred bucks?"
Leonora smiled broadly. "For twenty
minutes of your time."
"Wow." Trey took his glasses
and put them on. The world abruptly dropped into focus.
He could see long distance just fine without his glasses;
it was the middle distance and up close that gave
him problems. "That's quite a bit of money."
"All you need to do is show up
here." Leonora scribbled an address on the back
of one of the ballroom dance school's business cards.
"Bring a g-string and those tall sexy boots you
wore to the last competition, for the pirate thing.
I'll bring the music." She held up the card and
pouted at him. "Shall I tell her to write out
the check?"
Trey took the card and examined the
address. It was a public hall not too far out on the
edge of town. He'd done a dance contest there once
before. "The money is nice, but I don't know
if this is such a good idea."
"Too late, sucker, you took the
card!" Leonora pulled her hands back and grinned
broadly. "Can't back out now!"
Trey sighed. He might as well give in,
because he knew for a fact that he'd lose any debate
with her anyway. He was a pushover, and she knew it.
"Okay, so where do I get a g-string for a guy?"
Leonora happily scribbled on another
business card. "'Presario's Lingerie', the best
little adult toy store in the city!" She held
it up grinning. "Leather, handsome. The ladies
like leather."
~
One ~
Trey walked through the glass doors
of 'Presario's' and stopped in astonishment. He had
thoroughly expected a sordid and trashy men's magazine
place, but this shop was set up like an expensive
and classy boutique. Everything was tastefully displayed
with direct lighting on the products and soft lighting
everywhere else.
Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
Bemused, Trey walked to the counter,
and asked the girl where the male g-strings were located.
She grinned, showing the cutest dimple
in her cheek. "Really?" She leaned over
the counter to look him up and down, then licked her
lips. "Damn, you're fine, too. You're gonna make
somebody very happy!" She pointed toward the
back. "Go down that aisle, they're on the back
wall."
Smiling from her compliment, Trey sauntered
down the indicated isle, making his way toward the
back. The shelves were loaded with every kind of brightly
colored sex toy imaginable. He'd had no clue that
there were this many different kinds of dildos, in
that many shapes and sizes. He snorted and smiled.
Scary…
Ahead of him, Trey spotted another male
customer frowning at a tasteful bondage display. The
g-strings were on the wall just past him. Trey pushed
his glasses higher up on his nose and moved past him.
The customer turned to look at Trey.
Trey turned to look at him - and almost
stopped in his tracks. The man's face was painfully
masculine with strong high cheekbones, a square jaw,
straight nose, and slanted black eyes under upswept
black brows. His sleek black hair was combed straight
back and bound into a tiny queue. He was clearly an
oriental, but one hell of a nice specimen. His long
dark coat was no disguise for his incredible build.
His shoulders were amazingly broad, tapering down
to slim hips and strong thighs.
Trey passed him and couldn't help but
think that the guy would have been a far better choice
for a stripper. But could he dance? He smiled. Probably
not. Painfully masculine guys like that rarely bothered
to learn how to move their bodies, not when it was
so much easier to simply pose.
Trey continued to the wall and finally
came across the display of male g-strings on tiny
hangers. He frowned. They were little more than dick-pouches
with straps, and awfully small. He sighed and flipped
through the selection. A leather one caught his eye.
He pulled it down to check the 'holding capacity'
and frowned. How was he supposed to get all of him
in something so small?
He flipped through a few more and found
something a bit roomier. He pulled it down. He was
pretty sure he could get all of him in there…
"What? Is it too big?"
Trey sighed. "No, too small."
He looked over his shoulder. It was him, the oriental
guy, right behind him, almost touching. The guy was
a couple of inches taller, so Trey actually had to
look up. Heat flushed through him and his heart thumped
for no apparent reason.
A straight black brow lifted over a
very direct midnight gaze, and a slight smile lifted
the corner of his mouth. "Is that for your lover?"
"No." Trey's cheeks heated.
He looked away, dodging his gaze, but raised his chin.
"Me."
"You?" The smile appeared,
like a sunrise. "Are you a stripper?" The
guy's gaze moved down Trey's body, then back up. "You
definitely got the body for it."
Trey's breath caught, both pleased and
appalled by the compliment. Was the guy flirting?
He seemed to have that interested look in his eye.
What should he say? His impulse was to flirt back.
That's what one did when a woman flirted with
you.
But this was a guy!
So? What could it hurt to flirt back
just a little? It wasn't as if he'd ever come back
in this store again. Oh, what the hell… Trey
pulled out his sexiest smile and tilted his head to
look over the top edge of his glasses. "Yep.
I'm shopping for a stripper costume." He held
up the leather dick-pouch.
"Really?" The guy's lush mouth
curved up into a devastatingly erotic smile, sharpened
and honed by his direct and distinctly predatory black
gaze. He leaned a hair closer to Trey's back, almost
making contact. "I'd like to see that, you dancing."
Warm breath caressed Trey's cheek, and heat rolled
off the guy's body, carrying the scent of clean masculine
sandalwood soap, and a hint of something more…feral.
Under that unyielding gaze, warmth flushed
up Trey's collar and into his cheeks, then spilled
back down into his belly. His dick twitched, filling,
tightening, hardening… His smile slipped and
he swallowed hard. Good God, he was getting turned
on! Time to go!
Trey broke the guy's unblinking and
aggressive stare and rolled smoothly away from his
maddening presence. He turned back to smile at him.
No need to piss the guy off with a hard cut. "Sorry,
it's just a private show."
The guy turned, frowning. "A private
show?"
Trey twirled the g-string on his finger
and waved. "Real shame you can't see me perform.
I'm a damned good dancer."
The guy's brows dropped low, his gaze
hardening.
Oh, shit, talk about playing with
fire! "Bye!" Trey turned around and
practically bolted up to the front of the store. He
had to get out of there.
~ Two ~
The night of the performance came faster
than Trey expected. The drive was uncomplicated, and
the hall was easy to find. He parked his Jeep behind
what looked like about a million suburban housewife
type vehicles. This far back from the door, it was
going to be a hike to get there too.
Trey sighed, grabbed his smallest black
gym bag, climbed out of his Jeep, and started hiking
toward the single-story building, with his jacket
and his gym bag flung over his shoulder. He wove through
the crammed parking lot, practically invisible in
plain black jeans and a plainer black t-shirt.
The main room was big and dark with
dozens of tiny round tables covered in red cloths,
crammed with aluminum chairs. The square stage in
the very center wasn't too bad, or all that big. It
was a rental stage, so no brass pole. He was almost
disappointed.
There were a lot of women there--a whole
lot. And all of them were deep into getting blitzed
out of their minds. It looked like he was the only
male there, beyond the staff anyway. However, despite
his glasses, and pony-tail, the ladies seemed really
happy to see him, in fact he had to dodge more than
a few enthusiastically groping hands. And he was still
fully dressed.
Trey hit the aged bar for a shot of
scotch to get up the guts to go take his clothes off
for them. Once he hit the stage he'd be fine. Stage
fright was something that happened before a performance,
never during, but this… He looked around at all
the seriously drunk women. This was just plain scary.
Leonora came out of the crowd wearing
a slinky red dress that almost contained her boobs
and butt. Looping her arm through his, she led him
all the way to the back, where the men's room was.
"Okay, do you need help getting ready?"
She winked suggestively.
Good God, no! Trey threw up his hands,
his smile tight with alarm. "That's quite okay,
I'm good!"
Leonora set her hands behind her and
pouted. "Okay." She waved him into the bathroom.
"Well, go get naked, we'll put on the music when
you get on the stage."
Trey gave her a thumbs-up and bolted
into the men's room with his tiny bag. He must have
been out of his mind to agree to this.
The men's room was huge, hospital green
and pristinely clean. He could smell the fresh pine
cleaner. Probably because he was the only guy there.
Sighing, Trey walked into the biggest stall, the one
with the handrails all the way around it, and dropped
his bag. Crouching, he opened it and dug out his tall
black leather pirate boots, the tiny leather pouch
for his dick and a bottle of clear lube. His skin
was sensitive to oils, so rather than baby oil, he
figured the edible lube he'd picked up at 'Presario's'
would work on his chest and ass for shine. It was
water soluble, so it ought to come off easier than
oil.
The g-string fit, but just barely. The
tall boots were fine. They went up over his knees,
but he'd broken them in really well at the last competition.
He tugged the elastic from his hair and took off his
glasses. A quick brush made his hair fall just past
his shoulders rather nicely.
He stepped out of the stall and stood
in front of the full length mirror against the far
wall. Time for a shine. Smiling sourly, he poured
a handful of lube and started smearing it on his chest.
It was certainly shiny--and smelled like vanilla.
He supposed it was far better to smell like a pudding
or an ice cream rather than something fruity, like
strawberries. He poured more goop into his hand and
started working on his ass and upper thighs.
By the time he was done, the stink of
vanilla was overpowering. Trey walked over to the
tiny window and cranked it open to get some fresh
air in there.
Trey walked over to the men's room door
and prepared to run for it. He was going to have to
run if he wanted to make it to the stage through all
those drunken women with his g-string still on. He
smiled and took a deep breath. He was definitely going
to need another shot of whiskey when this was over.
Trey launched out the door and jogged
with a huge grin pasted across his face. Screams and
whoops erupted all around him. He dodged and twisted
through the ladies and leaped onto the stage, arms
out, head up and ready to rumba.
And right there in front of him, leaning
against the back wall, was the guy--the guy from the
adult toy store in black jeans and a black muscle
shirt that showed off his gorgeously defined arms.
"I'd like to see that, you dancing."
Trey blinked in astonishment.
So did the guy. In fact, his mouth fell
open and he straightened, his arms falling slack to
his sides. Then he frowned, as though puzzled.
What was he doing there?
TORRID
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