The One With The Tits
For a week straight, Zac grumbled and pouted about the private party. I didn’t see what the big deal was; I hadn’t been particularly happy about Ruby hiring us out behind our backs, but money was money. Zac, evidently, didn’t feel that way, and he was giving my worst diva fits a run for their money with the way he constantly complained about it.
The funny thing was, for all his complaining about how he wasn’t a performer in the same way that I was… he was good. He was damn good, in fact. His comfort zone was hidden behind his drums, not center stage, and he would deny until the end of time that he got just the same rush from strutting his stuff as I did. Anyone who watched him on stage wouldn’t know how uncomfortable he claimed to be, though. Zac might not have had the best moves, but with his looks and charisma, he didn’t really need them. He had a natural stage presence, the sort of thing that so many people had to be taught, and I often found myself feeling a little jealous when I watched him do his thing.
Still, I was the one with the theatre background, so when it came time to plan our routine for the party, it fell to me. I didn’t mind; the performance, the theatrics of it all, were my favorite parts of the job.
Neither of us, with Zac’s hair long enough for a ponytail and mine getting closer to that length than it’s been since sophomore year, looked quite wholesome enough to pull off the typical cop routine. Besides, that was boring. We could do so much better than that, I decided. Thanks to the costume design class I took as an elective, we had the costumes for just about anything. It was just a matter of choosing… and then convincing Zac to go along with it.
In the end, we went with something fairly simple but which was a guaranteed crowd pleaser. It was just an extra bonus that two attractive guys in tuxedos looked perfectly at home walking through the lobby of the Hotel Palomar on a Saturday night; no one who glanced our way as we made our way to the room Ruby had given us the number to would have guessed they were looking at two strippers.
Since I was more eager to take this job, Zac made me lug our bag of supplies—which wasn’t that heavy, since all we really needed was an iPod dock—up to the room and knock on the door. When it swung open, he was right there by my side with his best seductive smile on his face. Inside, I was relieved that he finally saw fit to play along. For all his bullshit, though, Zac was pretty professional. Most of the time.
The girl who answered the door, wearing a black dress, a tiara and a sash that labeled her as the bride, stared up at me, eyes blinking rapidly. I flashed her my best smile.
“Are we early for the ceremony?” I asked, feigning embarrassment. “Oh well,guess we’ll have to start the party early!”
I flashed her my best seductive smile, ignoring the little snort of laughter Zac gave. I knew it wasn’t the best introduction, but it was the best I could do under the circumstances, with my partner barely willing to cooperate at all. It got the job done, though. With a nervous giggle, the soon-to-be-married woman stepped back to let us into the room, shooting one of her friends a look that seemed to be a mixture of glee and fear.
I passed the messenger bag off to Zac so that he could set our music up, while I turned on the charm to soothe the bride-to-be’s nerves.
I trailed my hand along her bright red cheek, barely touching at all but making her blush even more and tremble a little anyway. With a little smirk, I asked, “You’re not nervous, are you? Cold feet, perhaps?”
She just shrugged, while her friends giggled and tittered.
“Don’t worry,” I replied. “I think we’ve got just the thing to warm you up.”
That sent the group of bridesmaids into another round of giggles which was soon drowned out by the first notes of “Sharp Dressed Man.” It was a typical choice, but a classic. Double Entendre’s had a group routine to the song that only needed a little adapting to work for the two of us in a smaller space.
By the time we began peeling off our shirts, one snap (buttons were the mortal enemy of strippers) at a time, even the nervous bride was getting into the performance. We strutted around the room to the beat of the song, dancing close to but not quite on any of the girls, before finally yanking off the velcro dress pants that had been made specifically for this sort of show. That left us in nothing but dress shoes, bow ties and tiny black briefs, a fact that definitely excited the small crowd of women who’d paid for our services.
“Sharp Dressed Man” transitioned into “Suit And Tie,” and that was our cue to kick it up a notch. Just like in the club, we spent the first song trying to read the crowd, looking for the girl who seemed most eager for our individual attention. Zac ended up with a short blonde in an even shorter pink sequined dress, while I found myself cuddling up with a bold redhead who kept trying to peek in my briefs. As long as she shoved a few bills in every time she peeled back the waistband, I really didn’t care. Full nudity was against Ruby’s rules for Double Entendre’s, but technically, we weren’t in the club, so I was willing to play fast and loose with the rules.
Of course, just like in the club, the girls got antsy if they didn’t all get a piece of your attention. As our themed songs ended and transitioned into our regular sexy playlist, Zac and I began trading off, taking turns giving each girl a taste of our dance moves. He still wasn’t the best dancer in the world, but he made up for it in charisma, and the girl he was currently behind didn’t seem to mind at all that they were just swaying back and forth to the beat.
Not to steal Zac’s thunder, but simply because we still had the better part of an hour to work, I decided to offer the girls lap dances. Leaning against the chair I’d nabbed from the suite’s small table, I grinned and asked, “Who’s first?”
I wasn’t at all surprised that the grabby redhead made a beeline for the chair, plopping down in it and actually licking her lips as she stared hungrily up at me. At least she would be easy to please. Our playlist shifted to “Pony” just as I swung my leg over the chair to begin my dance, and my timing could not have possibly been better. The song was absolutely perfect for the moves I’d perfected over the years, and I got more than a few cheers for the way I rolled my hips all over that lucky redhead. She tipped generously yet again as I worked my way down her body, finishing off with some impressive bumping and grinding in her lap. Soon, the girls who weren’t busy licking salt off Zac’s chest for tequila shots were lining up for their turn.
We were only paid for the first hour, but Ruby made it clear that we could stay over that time for tips if the clients were paying, and these girls were definitely paying. With the help of a little tequila, even the bride had loosened up enough to let me give her a private dance. Zac could make fun of my “girly shimmying” all he wanted, but the ladies couldn’t get enough of it. As I leaned back, I could see one of the girls offering Zac a jello shot; he politely declined and continued flexing for their amusement.
By the time I finished with the lap dances, my thighs were aching, my chest was coated with sweat and my bow tie had somehow ended up on the maid of honor’s head. With a grin, I plucked it out of her hair and secured it back around my neck.
“Well, ladies,” I said, letting my hand linger in the maid of honor’s hair for perhaps a second too long. “I’m afraid it’s time for Thor and me to go. But you girls definitely know how to throw a party.”
“Thor?” The little blonde one asked, giggling. “Is that really your name?”
“Real enough,” Zac replied. With a wink, he added, “but you can call me whatever you want.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at that. Flirting was just part of the job, and if we did it well enough, the girls would think it was genuine. With Zac, it was always a little hit or miss, but when he was good, he was good.
“Well, I think I’ll be calling you next weekend,” she replied with a giggle. “For a… private party.”
Zac gave her a polite smile and a laugh; we weren’t hookers, after all, but he wasn’t going to turn her down, either.
“Since you boys are off the clock,” the maid of honor said, holding up two jello shots. “Why don’t you have a few? There’s still a couple left…”
I glanced at Zac and he offered me a shrug. That wasn’t entirely helpful. What could a few jello shots hurt, though, when we were already finished dancing?
“Bring ’em on,” I replied with a grin.
Zac and I make a show of clinking the little plastic cups together before sucking out the vodka and lime flavored jello. The girls offered us a few others in various flavors and colors; not enough to get either of us drunk, but just enough to relax our tired muscles. Lap dances take a lot more out of me than just strutting around the stage. Zac didn’t seem too worse for the wear, though; he was still cracking jokes and flexing his muscles for the girls even as I politely asked if we could use their bathroom before we left.
“Aww, does that mean you’re going to stop being all naked?” The redhead asked, having abandoned any shame she might have once had. She leaned against me, one hand trailing down my chest and the other clutching the tequila bottle.
“I’m afraid so,” I said, then leaned in as if I were sharing a secret with her. “But you know you can come see us four nights a week at Double Entendre’s.”
“Will the show be as good there?”
“Well, you’ll have to share us with a few other women, but… I’ve heard we’re alright,” I replied with a grin.
“I have a question,” the bride slurred, leaning heavily against my other side. “Is this real?”
I didn’t need to ask what she was referring to; as the words left her mouth, her hand made its way across my hips, coming to rest right on the bulge in my briefs. The way I yelped when she gave a little squeeze ought to have answered her question.
Clearing my throat and trying to regain my composure, I plastered on a smirk and asked, “Does it feel real?”
She nodded eagerly, and everyone else in the room—Zac included—laughed. I peeled her hand off, letting it trail across my abs for a moment just to see her giggle again before finally returning it to her side. With a shy grin, she slipped a bill that looked suspiciously like a twenty down the front of my briefs.
“Okay, ladies,” I said, a little more firmly than necessary. “If you don’t mind, we’re just going to use your little boys’ room, and then we’ll be on our way.”
“It’s been a riot,” Zac added with a crooked grin, obviously fighting the urge to laugh even more at my expense.
We gathered up our scattered clothing and hurried off to the bathroom with them. There was nothing less sexy than putting clothes back on in front of the women you’d just stripped for. The bathroom was hardly big enough for two grown men, but we somehow managed to squeeze inside. Zac dressed first, while I borrowed one of the hotel towels to wipe up my sweat.
“So,” I said, running the towel through my damp, stringy hair. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“It was at least twice as degrading as shaking our asses on stage,” Zac replied, then shoved his hand in his briefs. I raised an eyebrow, not sure if I should be watching him or not. When he pulled his hand back out, it was full of bills, and most of them looked quite large. With a crooked smile, he added, “But it also pays twice as well. I’d say it’s worth it.”
“You would say that,” I replied, tossing the towel down and shimmying back into my pants. “You weren’t the one who just got molested.”
“Only you would complain about having a gorgeous woman’s hand on your business, Taylor. Only you.”
“A gorgeous soon-to-be married woman,” I reminded him. “Even if the clients weren’t off limits, that one definitely was.”
“Too bad,” Zac said. “I think I had a chance with the one with the tits.”
I yanked a bunch of bills out of my briefs before velcro-ing up the fly of my pants. Zac was right; these girls were big tippers. There was no guarantee every private party would be as lucrative, but we’d be fools not to give it another try. We’d also be fired, judging by how serious Ruby was when she gave us this new job.
“What do you think?” Zac asked, glancing up from the shirt he was snapping up.
“I think she was way out of your league,” I replied, flicking his bow tie.
“Please,” he replied, smirking. “I’m in everyone’s league.”