[Jamie Dean]

 <iframe width="460" height="259" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/pIedFojF1Wk" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

Welcome back!

We knew that you just couldn't get enough Jamie Dean the first time around! You people are a pack of insatiable beasts! You're as bad as the 'tricks' that our beloved Mister Dean meats up with on his nights off or after hours on the club scene of Los Angeles. It's almost as if you thought he was some sort of machine -- and in a sense of the word, you'd be right. Though if you ask Jamie, he'd tell you he's more of a battery than a machine. While a Duracell keeps going and going, Jamie Dean just keeps coming. And yes, the implication was, in fact, implied.

So fasten your seat belts gentlemen, and you ladies too if you so choose. Have a drink, grab hold of your ankles and get set for the ride of your life.

Club AKBAR is where we are set to meat the man of the hour, and why not? For those not in the know, or for those who haven't paid close enough attention when last we met wrestling's 'Any Night Delight', AKBAR is the premiere social setting of the LA gay community, and a staple in the livelihood of our star, both personally as well as professionally.

With the brightest smiles that a man might ever come across, again - pun intended, the handsome doorman/security guard opened the front door to allow us access into a whole other world where nothing ever seemed the same twice. It's okay. We understand if you want to pause and sneak a glance back over your shoulder. One last adoring and lustful gaze at one of AKBAR's many studly personnel that keeps the clientele safe and sound from the time they enter the premises, until the time they leave, opting to call their evening to a close.

He is a handsome devil, isn't he? Short cropped blonde hair and fair skin, but one can not help but take notice of just how form fitting his AKBAR T-shirt is against his powerful upper body. Not overly muscular like those men you see onstage at bodybuilding spectacles, but it is plain to appreciate that the man works out; beefy arms and a set of pecs that you could stand under in the event of a downpour and remain perfectly dry. It's all one can do to keep from peeling off the man's skin tight T-shirt and revert back to breast feeding. And that's nothing compared to the appreciation one feels when you take note of how tight his blue jeans are, and the bulges and tucks that are the end result of the snug denim attire. A bubble butt that defied all physics, and the rest? Well evidently it wasn't always true what they say about men who lift weights.

"It's plain to see that if a man's ass pushes the back of his T-shirt up, you KNOW baby got back!" - Jamie Dean

It's also plain to see that stating anything else about the security guard's physical qualities probably would be beyond the normal approval rating for even Sin City Wrestling promos. For anyone that's interested, the man's name is John. John Sorrentino. He works here a few nights a week, mainly on the weekends to earn extra money while he is also a paramedic and a...

Oh my.

The door opened from the outside and the man of the hour, depending on how much fun he's having with you, Jamie Dean inserted himself -- into the social setting you perverts! I swear, you make everything that has to do with him one hundred percent sexual -- thank you. John stepped inside a moment to allow Jamie access, and Dean paused briefly en route to the club's interior to glide his fingertips alongside John's firm backside and the guard had little facial reaction but the fact he grasped Jamie by the back of his head and reeled him in for a forceful bit of tonsil hockey was evidence enough that the gesture was appreciated.

Jamie broke it off and leaving the guard with a shitty smirk on his face and the obligation to resume his duties outside of the front door, Jamie headed inside, with a bag hefted over his shoulder and that seemingly perpetual smile on his handsome face.

"Jamie!"

"Hotpants!"

"It's about fucking time!"

</iframe>

Jamie was now on the go-go pedestal in nothing more than a hot pink g-string with black tiger stripes. Oh but this time he wasn't alone! Up there with him was Justin the bartender, and part-time go-go dancer himself! Justin was wearing no more than Jamie himself in a black, mesh thong of his own. Justin was pressed tightly back against Jamie, both young men engaging in a steamy encounter for the enjoyment of the patrons, and yes, themselves! There was little enough room for one dancer, meaning to fit two, Justin and Jamie were pressed tightly against one another. Jamie managed to turn around like an expert and wrap an arm around Justin's waist as the show went on...

You know, it'd probably be best to end this scene right now as we're already stretching the limits of your PG-13 imaginations!

"Nasty
Nasty boys, don't mean a thing, huh
Oh you nasty boys
Nasty
Nasty boys, don't ever change, huh
Oh you nasty boys
Nasty
Nasty boys, give me your nasty groove, huh
Oh you nasty boys
Nasty
Nasty boys, let me see your nasty body move, huh
Oh you nasty boys"

Jamie Dean, fully dressed again, approached the exit at the end of the night, and Justin hurried to catch up with him. John opened the door, and followed them out and Jamie glanced back over John's shoulder and toward us, winking coyly.

"Some might refer to me as something of an ass, and it's not like I could really dispute that. But like any good ass, I can take a pounding and always be ready for more." - Jamie Dean
</color>