His 3 Former Teachers See Him Dance At The Male Revue
The Thursday before the holiday had the club buzzing, laughter bouncing against the lights and low bass. Gary had just finished his set, sweat still gleaming on his chest, the green thong clinging and pulling with every movement.
He made his way offstage, half-exhilarated, half-aware that the eyes in the room were still pinned to him.
At a corner table, three women were already flushed from wine and heat. They’d each had three glasses by the time Gary stepped into their view, and tipsy laughter had given way to that boldness only found when restraint finally slipped away.
Sally was the first to squint, then gasp. The years melted in her mind, and she clutched Beth’s wrist. Still trim and radiant at sixty, her cream-colored mini skirt showed off the bronzed, sculpted legs she had worked decades to keep.
She’d come tonight to prove she still had it, and she had — other young strippers at the club had already stared at her shapely legs. But when she recognized Gary, the baby-faced boy from her first-grade classroom now strutting nearly naked before her, her heart jumped like a teenager’s.
This wasn’t just shock — it was a wicked gift, a birthday surprise she hadn’t dared imagine.
Beth, early fifties, leaned in closer. Her own cream mini hugged her figure, her legs taut and golden from hours on the treadmill, and Gary’s eyes flickered down without meaning to, twitching against the thin fabric of his thong. She had been the logical one, the math teacher who solved problems by stacking them into neat rows.
But logic dissolved with her third glass of wine, and all she could think of was the boy who once doodled in her class now standing tall, carved, and half-naked, with women stuffing bills into his thong. The air around her was too warm; she bit her lip, and for once in years, she didn’t care who saw.
Cathy tilted her glass and laughed, that throaty sound only wine could coax out of her. She had been the Sunday school teacher, the pastor’s wife, the figure of gentility. But she was also vibrant, curvy, breasts straining against her neckline even as the years had softened her waist.
She remembered Gary’s voice reciting psalms, the sweet little boy who’d bowed his head so obediently. Now he stood before her transformed — a man, confident, brazen — and something deep inside her thrilled at the contrast.
The wine erased what little resistance she had left. For once she wasn’t anyone’s dutiful wife. She was simply a woman staring at temptation, grinning like she’d been let out of a cage.
Gary stopped by their table, smiling, though his pulse skipped as his eyes dipped once more to Sally and Beth’s legs, the bronzed contrast against the cream fabric pulling tight over their thighs. His thong twitched in response, betraying him. He leaned closer, breath still quick from the stage.
“I guess this isn’t how you pictured running into one of your old students.”
The table erupted with laughter, high-pitched and breathless. Wine, nostalgia, desire — it all swirled together, and none of them made any move to resist.
Sally was the first to recover from their laughter, though her eyes kept drifting lower in a way she hadn’t done since her own youth. She tilted her chin, the wine loosening her voice.
“Good heavens, Gary Thompson,” she said, giggling, “I taught you to read your ABCs, not… this.” Her hand fluttered vaguely toward his thong before she laughed again, red from both wine and nerves.
Beth leaned forward, elbows pressing on the table, her smile lazy and mischievous. “And I taught you fractions… though judging from what’s going on down there, you’ve outgrown any need for fractions. That looks more like… long division.” She broke into tipsy laughter at her own joke, eyes locked shamelessly on the bulge in his thong.
Cathy sipped her wine, feigning innocence, though her gaze was the boldest of all. “I suppose I should be scandalized. My little Sunday school boy, twitching in front of us…” She paused, tilting her head, eyes fixed on the fabric straining between his thighs. “…and it does twitch, doesn’t it? Right when you look at Sally and Beth’s legs. Mmm, what a revelation.”
The three of them dissolved into another burst of laughter, cheeks flushed, shoulders brushing as they leaned in closer. Their eyes no longer bothered to dart away when caught staring. They lingered, openly admiring, sipping their wine like conspirators.
Gary’s grin faltered for a moment as heat rose in his face. He had danced in front of dozens of women before, but never like this — never with women who once corrected his spelling, quizzed him on multiplication tables, or led him in hymns. The recognition, the teasing, and their unabashed staring rattled him in ways the crowd never had. His thong twitched again, betraying him, and the three women gasped in mock scandal before cackling like schoolgirls.
Sally set her empty glass down with a thump. “Would you believe this is only the second time we’ve ever been to a club like this?” she asked, leaning closer to him. “The first time was 2 years ago, and it was dreadful. But tonight… oh, tonight is something else entirely.”
Beth brushed her hair back, smirking. “Yes, I don’t recall the last time I’ve been this… entertained.” Her eyes slid deliberately down, then back up. “I’m starting to think we’ve been missing out.”
Cathy raised her glass in a mock toast, eyes never leaving his bulge. “To wild nights, guilty pleasures… and to our little Gary, all grown up.”
Their glasses clinked, laughter spilling over again, but their stares stayed fixed on him, shameless and hungry.
Gary shifted on his feet, trying to play it cool, but the three pairs of eyes fixed on him made it impossible. He’d faced whole crowds before without flinching, yet there was something unnerving — and electric — about being under their gaze.
Beth was the first to bridge the gap. Her hand, steady despite the wine, reached out and grazed his hip, fingertips brushing the edge of the thong strap. “Just making sure you’re real,” she said lightly, though her smirk gave her away.
Sally giggled and followed suit, her palm flattening against his thigh, dangerously close to the bulge they had been teasing. “Oh, he’s real,” she whispered, eyes glittering as she felt the twitch beneath the fabric. “Good heavens, Gary… you really are.”
Cathy leaned in, her breath warm against his side as she murmured, “Our little secret, yes? No one at church needs to know how very blessed you are.”
Her fingers trailed along his lower stomach, dangerously close to his large, twitching manhood, before retreating back to her wineglass, as though nothing had happened.
The three women collapsed into laughter again, but their faces were flushed, their shoulders pressed together, and their whispers sharper now, almost conspiratorial.
“Dares,” Sally said suddenly, her eyes wicked. “Remember in college, Beth? We’d dare each other to do outrageous things.”
Beth’s lips curved into a grin. “Oh yes. And I dare you,” she leaned toward Sally, her voice low but audible over the music, “…to give his… situation… a proper inspection.”
Sally gasped in mock outrage, covering her mouth with her hand, though her other stayed glued to his thigh. “Beth!” she laughed, then bit her lip, clearly considering.
Cathy raised a brow, her voice velvet-smooth. “Or perhaps… I’ll dare him. Gary, sweetheart, I dare you to let us see just how much of a man our little student has become.”
The laughter around the table turned into a hush of anticipation, the kind that made the club lights feel hotter, the music louder, the moment heavier. The women leaned in close, tipsy and daring, their hands never straying far from him.
Gary hesitated for a moment, scanning the club. The crowd was busy with chatter and the next dancer had already taken the stage, drawing most of the attention. No one seemed to notice the corner booth. The three women were leaning in close, eyes bright with wine and laughter, but there was no mistaking the hunger beneath.
With a grin that was half challenge, half surrender, Gary slid onto the long padded bench between Sally and Beth. . As soon as he sat, the women pressed in tighter, their perfume mingling with the scent of their wine, their legs brushing against his on both sides.
Sally was quick to lay claim, her hand curling over his thigh again. “Well, well… look at us. Three schoolteachers, one former student. If this isn’t a lesson plan, I don’t know what is.” Her fingers crept higher, emboldened by the nearness.
Beth leaned into his other side, her bronzed leg crossing over his, cream skirt riding dangerously high. Her eyes dropped to his lap, shameless. “It twitched again,” she whispered, biting her lip. “I swear it knows when we’re staring.”
Cathy leaned forward across the table, her generous cleavage framed in her blouse, voice husky. “Well then, girls… shall we see if our dear Gary has been exaggerating all along? Or if what we’re imagining is really there?”
The three women exchanged glances, conspiratorial, giddy. Their laughter died into an anticipatory hush.
Gary exhaled, then glanced around once more. With a quick motion, hidden by their huddled circle and the small table, he tugged down the thin waistband just enough to give them the view they craved.
The gasp that escaped the women was almost in unison — sharp, delighted, shameless.
“My Lord, it’s huge!” Sally gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “That’s no schoolboy.”
Beth laughed low in her throat, her hand brushing over his stomach as if drawn toward the sight. “Ohhh my God ! It’s enormous young man !! And to think, I spent all those hours teaching you fractions…” Her smile widened. “I never realized you’d grow into such… whole numbers…. 9 or 10 by the looks o it!! ”
Cathy’s cheeks flushed deep pink, but her eyes were locked on him, wide and hungry. “Mercy,” she breathed, then giggled, “If my husband only knew what his Sunday school boy turned into. It’s so big !” her mouth then forming into a small O as she stared in shock at Gary’s large member.
Gary pulled the waistband back up, just as quick, but the damage was done. The image lingered in their wine-clouded minds, and their shameless stares didn’t stop.
Beth clinked her glass softly against Sally’s. “Well, ladies… I think this field trip just became worth every mile.”
They all laughed, leaning against him, tipsy warmth pressing from both sides, their legs draped against his, their whispers now bolder, almost daring him to go further.
Almost on cue, one of Gary’s buddies — working the floor that night — strolled by with a towel, giving Gary a quick, knowing smirk before dropping it over his lap like a bartender delivering a drink.
The women erupted in laughter, the towel only fueling their daring. Sally’s hand slid beneath first, brushing along his inner thigh, nails grazing lightly over the twitching bulge. “Mercy,” she whispered, giggling, “it’s warm…”
Beth’s hand quickly joined, bold and steady. She cupped him through the fabric, her eyes meeting his with mock-innocence. “I can’t believe I used to give you multiplication drills,” she teased. “You’ve… multiplied nicely.”
Cathy leaned in closer, her hand sneaking under from the other side, her touch softer but no less hungry. She squeezed gently, lips curling into a wicked grin. “Forgive me, Lord,” she murmured playfully, “for I am about to sin.”
Gary exhaled, head falling back against the booth, the towel twitching with every stroke and squeeze beneath. The women were giggling like schoolgirls, emboldened by wine and secrecy, their hands wandering freely now, testing boundaries they knew they’d already crossed.
Their laughter turned to low whispers, their words meant only for him.
“Dare you to last through all three of us,” Sally whispered.
“Dare you to show us more,” Beth added, fingers tightening.
“Dare you to make us forget our husbands,” Cathy finished, her tone husky with tipsy abandon.
The towel shifted as all three hands worked beneath, and the women’s flushed faces said it all: inhibition was gone, and they were savoring every stolen second.
The towel twitched and shifted as three pairs of hands teased, brushed, and squeezed beneath it. Their giggles had turned into low, conspiratorial laughter, the kind that only came from wine and wicked daring.
Gary tried to keep his breathing steady, but each stroke made it harder to sit still. His 3 former teachers were already putting him through the wringer.
Sally’s fingers slipped boldly under the elastic of the thong, stroking skin. “Mmm… such a shame to keep this thing on,” she whispered, eyes dancing with delight.
Beth bit her lip, sliding her hand over his hip, tugging at the fabric. “Yes, teacher says it’s time to remove all distractions.” Her laughter was low and breathy, but her hand was insistent.
Cathy leaned in so close her perfume surrounded him, her husky whisper tickling his ear. “Take it off, Gary. Let us have our little peek… no one else has to know.”
Gary’s chest rose and fell, the heat of their hands overwhelming him. He gave in with a grin, shifting under the towel. A quick movement, a lift of his hips — and the green thong slid free.
The women gasped softly as he pulled it from beneath the towel. He dangled it for a moment, then dropped it onto the small table in front of them, right between their wine glasses.
The sight made the women dissolve into laughter, high-pitched and breathless. Sally slapped the table with her palm. “Oh, my Lord, he actually did it!”
Beth’s eyes sparkled, her hand still buried beneath the towel. “And now it’s just us and him… nothing between us anymore.”
Cathy reached across the table, plucked up the thong with two fingers, and twirled it playfully before letting it fall back onto the napkins. Her cheeks were flushed, her smile daring. “Would you look at that,” she said, voice husky. “One little strip of green cloth, and suddenly we’re free women—no husbands, no boredom, no rules. Just us… and him.”
The three of them leaned in tighter, their laughter melting into heavy breaths. Under the towel, their hands grew bolder. Sally’s fingers curled around him firmly now, stroking with the confidence of a woman who had long forgotten what it felt like to be timid.
Beth’s hand slipped lower, cupping and teasing, her nails grazing lightly. “Good Lord,” she whispered, eyes locked on his face, “I think we’re going to need a new kind of math to measure this.”
Cathy slid her palm along his length, her touch lingering, reverent yet hungry. “Mercy,” she murmured again, shaking her head in disbelief. “Do you realize what we’d have given for this kind of thrill twenty years ago?”
The towel twitched with every stroke and squeeze, the motion obvious to anyone who might have glanced their way—but in their corner booth, shielded by shadows and laughter, they felt untouchable.
Their whispers turned to a chant of dares, layered and teasing, spoken hot against his ears.
“Dare you to stay hard for all three of us,” Sally breathed.
“Dare you to let us take turns,” Beth added, her lips brushing his shoulder.
“Dare you to make us forget tonight ever ends,” Cathy finished, her hand tightening as the others giggled.
The air was thick, their shameless touching as much about defiance as desire. For the first time in decades, they were alive in a way that had nothing to do with duty — and everything to do with Gary.
The towel rippled and shifted, the three pairs of hands moving with growing boldness, stroking, cupping, squeezing. Their giggles had deepened into low, breathy laughter, the kind that came from too much wine and too few inhibitions.
Gary gritted his teeth, trying to hold steady, but the women were relentless. Sally’s grip was firm, confident, like she had claimed him. Beth’s teasing strokes kept him twitching with every brush. Cathy’s hand lingered longer than the others, her touch deliberate, reverent, as if she were worshipping him in secret.
“God help us,” Sally whispered, her breath hot against his cheek. “I have to see this.”
Before either of the others could stop her, she whipped the towel back with one dramatic flick.
The three women gasped in unison, their laughter giving way to shocked delight.
“Ohhhhh…” Sally’s eyes widened, her hand flying to her chest. “It’s huge!”
Beth leaned in closer, her face flushed. “Bigger than I ever expected…” Her gaze lingered, shameless and hungry.
Cathy let out a throaty giggle, shaking her head. “Mercy. That’s… much bigger than my husband’s.” She slapped her own thigh in helpless laughter, and the others joined in, shoulders shaking, their shock quickly melting back into tipsy glee.
The towel hung loose in Sally’s hand, forgotten as they stared openly, giggling like girls sneaking peeks at something forbidden. Beth tilted her head, bronze leg brushing his as she murmured, “This is what we’ve been missing all these years. Sitting at home, being good little wives… when this was out here.”
Finally, Sally tossed the towel back across his lap, though not before letting it linger long enough to sear the image into their minds. “Well,” she grinned wickedly, “now we know. And I daresay I’ll never forget that view.”
The towel settled again, and instantly their hands returned beneath it, emboldened by the glimpse. They teased him with fresh abandon, whispering and giggling, daring each other to be bolder.
Beth was the next to break. Her eyes darted left and right, then back to the towel. With a sly grin, she slipped her fingers under the edge and tugged it aside just enough to uncover him again — this time holding it back longer, savoring the view.
“Ohhh… Lord,” she breathed, biting her lip, her face inches from his lap. “It’s even bigger than it looked the first time.” She giggled and shot Sally a look. “No wonder we can see it twitch every time he sees your legs….it’s huge!!”
Cathy leaned across the table, her voice husky. “Beth, you’re terrible,” she scolded playfully, though her eyes were riveted. Then, quieter, almost reverently: “But my God, what a sight…much much bigger than the one I have at home !”
The towel slid back into place again, but the memory lingered heavier now, their giggles charged with disbelief, their whispers more daring. Beneath the fabric, their hands explored with renewed boldness, each touch a little firmer, each squeeze a little longer, as if the longer look had stripped away whatever shreds of inhibition remained.
Continue reading at Part Two
