Free Revue by K.M. Golland Page B

gentlemen here tonight?”
    A group of girls screamed ‘yes’. I turned to where they were standing at the back of the room, spying them holding up the arm of a red-faced guy.
    “Excellent! We do have a gentleman here tonight. Hi there, sweet cheeks,” Patsy crooned. “Now don’t be shy. You want a piece of one of my boys, you just raise those arms and holler. You hear me?”
    He playfully wrestled his arm free from his girl friends and covered his face. It was quite adorable and made me smile. I inwardly applauded his courage to stand out at an event like this. It also had me wondering how the guys felt about patrons of the same sex. I made a mental note to ask them.
    “So, are we all ready for a wild night?” Patsy asked.
    The crowd yelled yes and, apparently, that wasn’t good enough.
    “I said, are we all ready for a wild night ?”
    This time, the women—and man—all screamed.
    “That’s what I want to hear. Now remember, there are no boyfriends or husbands here. Tonight, they don’t exist. It’s just you and …” She lowered her voice to an excited growl, “… the Wild Nights Revue!”
    Darkness descended and coloured stage lights swirled around the room, creating an ambience of anticipation sporadically illuminated when the lights bounced off the faces of audience members. From my perched position on the ground, I could see the guys take to the stage—legs apart, heads down, hands behind their backs. They were in costume, but what theme, I wasn’t sure.
    A guitar rift blasted through the speaker beside me, followed by the unmistakeable drawn-out screech of Axl Rose’s voice. Darkness turned to light, as “Welcome to the Jungle” began to play, revealing all five guys in construction worker costumes. Each of them wore a hard hat, a pair of jeans, boots, and an open fluorescent worker’s vest—their oiled chests bare underneath.
    They looked fucking hot. So hot, that all of sudden, I wished my house were in need of repair. Holy shit!
    The drums kicked in and the guys lifted their heads, each of them smiling seductively toward different areas of the crowd. Their feet tapped, their hips swayed. Then, all four of them moved into optimum muscle-flexing position, just like body builders do.
    I couldn’t help but laugh—it was so cliché.
    Surprisingly, Lucas appeared to be the lead in the act, as he was the only one wearing an orange vest—the others wore yellow. He was also front-and-centre and taking command.
    As Axl sung about bringing people to their knees, all four guys dropped to theirs then fell forward into a dry-humping-the-stage-floor position. The smoothness of their action was quite sexy and, I’m not going to lie, it twitched a feeling within. It also had the crowd screaming, wolf-whistling and shouting out encouragement for the guys to ‘lose the gear’.
    Lucas stepped to the front of the stage, turned sideways and pulled out a tape measure, emulating the length of tape was that of his cock. I quickly snapped his photo and smiled at the innuendo but then got excited when all of them followed suit—a line of sexy construction workers stroking erect tape measures.
    Nice. Very well done!
    Peering through the viewfinder of my camera, I pressed the shutter button and captured the sexual playfulness they were projecting. It was fun, full of energy, and enticing enough to set the mood for the rest of the night. I then pivoted on my bent knee and aimed the camera toward the crowd, snapping a few shots and smiling at the fact the guys could turn everyday mothers, sisters, daughters and friends into craving, lipstick-wearing, alcohol-drinking balls of horny oestrogen. It was quite impressive.
    Swivelling back around, I found the guys had moved to the rear of the stage, standing side by side. Their posture, the music, the subtle glances and positioning of their hands, all culminated in building anticipation of what was to happen next.
    I waited. Eagerly. Then, with perfect timing and