.. God knows what it meant. I held back a tear."Hey Barry." Travers, my boss, was peering at me; a sceptical look onhis face. "We don't want you dying...of heatstroke! You can take thejacket off!" His good-natured smile petered off expectantly. True, hewas dressed the part of a summer worker: his tie gone, shirt buttonsundone to reveal a tantalising hint of chest, shirt sleeves rolled upexpectantly. He smiled passively. "We can forgive you for not wearingyour usual outfit!"I forced a chuckle. I. My drinks went changed from Corona to Grand Marnier and during the next two hours, I would occasionally venture down to the stage from by seat in back of the club. Between trips, I would return to my seat and stick my right hand into my right jean pocket. I would massage my cock recalling the details of the various dancers. This masturbation technique is extremely difficult because I was not able to wrap my hand around my cock and pump it like I wanted too. The best I could do was massage. More

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