Exposed
fantasy, play the role
As he stood there behind the curtain in that god-awful excuse for an Army grunt’s uniform, Dean Winchester had never been so nervous in his life.
Taking off his clothes for a woman (or two) was nothing new, in fact, he was pretty damn proud when it came to his looks, but this…this was something entirely new. This was a performance. On stage. In front of a club packed with hungry women and probably a few gay men.
Over the years, he’d been in more strip clubs than he could count, but not once had he been the one getting singles tucked into his g-string.
The annoying Enrique Iglesias song bursting from the loud speakers drew to a close, the light dimmed, and the spray-tanned Jersey Shore reject that had just graced the stage gave the anxious rookie a slap on the back before he shoved Dean past the curtains.
Seconds passed, the lights felt blinding as they ignited, and the very same song he’d watched so many ladies gyrate around the pole to began to play.
Left. Right. Left, right, left.
Dean marched down the catwalk in time to the beat, and as he came to a halt, he slowly removed his cap, trailing the camouflage canvas ever-so-seductively down his chest before tossing it out into the crowd.
The slow roll of his hips, a couple of fluid thrusts, and with a quick rip, the fitted army-green tee fell to the stage, completely ravished.
All it took was a glimpse of his defined chest and abdominals to send the housewives and sorority girls into a feeding frenzy. And he was loving every minute of it.
Oh, if only Sammy could see him now…
Dean knew he’d never hear the end of it.
Taking off his clothes for a woman (or two) was nothing new, in fact, he was pretty damn proud when it came to his looks, but this…this was something entirely new. This was a performance. On stage. In front of a club packed with hungry women and probably a few gay men.
Over the years, he’d been in more strip clubs than he could count, but not once had he been the one getting singles tucked into his g-string.
The annoying Enrique Iglesias song bursting from the loud speakers drew to a close, the light dimmed, and the spray-tanned Jersey Shore reject that had just graced the stage gave the anxious rookie a slap on the back before he shoved Dean past the curtains.
Seconds passed, the lights felt blinding as they ignited, and the very same song he’d watched so many ladies gyrate around the pole to began to play.
Left. Right. Left, right, left.
Dean marched down the catwalk in time to the beat, and as he came to a halt, he slowly removed his cap, trailing the camouflage canvas ever-so-seductively down his chest before tossing it out into the crowd.
The slow roll of his hips, a couple of fluid thrusts, and with a quick rip, the fitted army-green tee fell to the stage, completely ravished.
All it took was a glimpse of his defined chest and abdominals to send the housewives and sorority girls into a feeding frenzy. And he was loving every minute of it.
Oh, if only Sammy could see him now…
Dean knew he’d never hear the end of it.
♠ ♠ ♠
This was my fill for the prompt "strip" as a part of the dean100 challenge on lj. I've never been a huge fan of drabbles because I tend to write lengthier pieces, but I'm constantly trying to improve and experiment as a writer, so I thought this would be a good challenge for me.I could have definitely made a lengthy, raunchy oneshot out of this, trust me.
In my head, I kind of imagined he'd be stripping to "Hot Blooded" by Foreigner XD
As always, feedback is appreciated.