Technically, I’m not a stripper. As a cage dancer, I don’t take all my clothes off, and no one gets to touch me. I’m just the eye candy. And I can feel their eyes on me. I know they’re watching, but I don’t do this for them. This is my time. My life may not have turned out the way I thought it would, but I’m not complaining. From 9 p.m. to 1 a.m. several days a week, I get paid to feel sexy, to feel desired, to do what I love. I always knew I wanted to be a dancer – I just didn’t realize I’d be doing it in a cage.
Erectile dysfunction – two words that can cause a collective cringe from men everywhere. The doctors can call it “performance anxiety” all they want, but that’s just a fancy way of saying my d*ck doesn’t work. Just when I start to think there’s no hope for me, I see her. She’s gorgeous, sexy, and goofy as f–k. She also looks really familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it. When I find out who she really is, my world is turned upside down, and everything seems to fall into place. She’s not gonna make it easy for me, but I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge. She’s convinced I won’t stick around. I’ll prove her wrong. I’ll show her I’m one of the good guys.
Contains mature themes.