Have a Drink On Me
By de Vere
From de Vere's upcoming collection of short stories,
LET: Tales of Love, Eros and Taboo
. Some stories are true, some are fictional. Some are aspirational. You decide which are which.
The names have been changed to protect the naughty.
Staring up at the crystal chandelier cutting light into all colors of the spectrum distracted me enough to bring a fleeting semblance of calm. More exposed, vulnerable, embarrassed, more aroused with excitement than at any time in my life. Too nervous to look around at all the faces staring at me, my attention instead fell upon one crystal on the chandelier that caught yellow and purple light, changing to red and orange when I turned my head ever so slightly to the side.
Momentarily considering leaping up and running from the room, away from these strangers, then I wondered whether any of them could see the shaking of my hands that I felt but could not control. No one looked at my hands, though, strangely comforted by the knowledge that everyone looked at my body, my underwear, my bare skin, not my quivering hands.
Cold liquid poured into my belly-button caused a new wave of self-consciousness to sweep over me, more powerful than before. Now I allowed myself to look down.
Maureen bent over. Her red lips press against the skin of my stomach drinking in the vodka while holding her stunning auburn hair back with one hand. Her tongue entering my navel, strong but gentle, swirling around to get every last drop, then kissed my stomach when she finished. Maureen invited me here, although her husband, Giorgio, may have been the one actually responsible.
No, she and I shared a connection that first night they came into the restaurant and sat in my section. Her blue eyes followed my every move that night. Her kiss, with those full, ruby lips lingered for long seconds, and I realized this was the first time a woman kissed me since a party in college when I ended up kissing a couple of my girlfriends, photos memorializing those kisses being my most regrettable Facebook photos.
I enjoyed her kiss.
"Giorgio, why don't you go next," Maureen suggested. She is a beautiful woman, even I noticed that right away. Probably in her late forties, elegant I immediately noticed that night I first waited on them, wearing a silk dress the same azure color as her eyes and a body every woman and man dining there that night envied.
Chatting amiably with me all night like an old friend, she made me laugh and enjoy serving them. Perhaps my size XS blouse that made it necessary to leave an extra button undone for a view of my cleavage bringing tips twenty-five percent higher than when I wore it buttoned up—and I kept track. It may have simply been that she found me pretty, but I suspected later, reflecting upon her offer, that the real reason is they desired an Asian girl.
Maureen asked me when I gave them their bill. "We are hosting a party in a few weeks, and we would be honored if you would be our special guest."
"Thank you, but why me? We just met."
"You are lovely, and it would be very stimulating. We would make it worth your while."
Sensing danger, I declined without asking for any details, but my rejection did not offend them, as they paid in cash with a hundred-dollar tip. Returning a week later, they asked to be seated at my table.
This time Maureen wore a charming white dress that looked even more beautiful than the one she previous wore. I remember the silk fabric clinging to her nipples. That night she gave a few details—not many, but offered me a thousand dollars and—when I protested—she assured me it did not involve prostitution, but the exact details remained secret. Suspecting the real reason and reluctant to fall into the stereotype of Asian women being a sexually-submissive plaything for horny white men, I again declined. This time, they left a two-hundred-dollar tip.
Giorgio stepped up to me with an expensive bottle of Tequila. His accent may have been Greek or Italian, faded with age. Tall, dark, perhaps fifty and very fit, he made a perfect companion to Maureen.
"Take this in your teeth," he said, holding up a lime wedge. I bit it with the rind down while he poured the Tequila slowly into my sternum, directly below the center of my chest. Lips wide enveloped it, his tongue wiping up my skin twice before leaning over to take the lime wedge from me in his teeth, our lips meeting for a second.
A mild buzz rose from the others, who I conscientiously avoided making eye contact with. Something arose in me, my arousal growing as it had when his wife drank from me.
The third time they came in, Maureen understood money did not motivate me, but offered me twenty-five hundred dollars for less than an hour. Assuring me I would not have to do anything I did not want to do and that I would remain in control, she then launched into her real sales pitch. "You will feel a power, as well as sensual stimulation unlike anything you have ever dreamed."
"What kind of party is this?"
"Some of the most elite people in the city. Politicians, CEOs, maybe a baseball player or two you will recognize."
"Does this involve sex?"
Laughing, she replied, "Not unless you want sex, and with the people there, that may be tempting. But I am not asking you for sex, nor that is not what the money is for."
After that third refusal of their offer, I did not expect another, but they returned again last Friday, and this time Maureen explained exactly why she wished for me to attend their party. Maybe I would not have accepted if I had scraped together enough change that week for my car payment, but the way she described it, so enticing and erotic without actual sex? I accepted.
That is how I found myself lying here in my bra and panties surrounded by a room full of strangers focusing every eye upon my body sprawled across the table under that chandelier. Maureen in complete control chose the next person. "Tiffany, you are next."
An elegant woman about Maureen's age with short, blonde hair stepped up and poured some liqueur that smelled like oranges into that hollow spot at the base of my neck, and then took it with what can only be described as a sensuous kiss that lasted much longer than the other two, chasing a stray drop down the side of my neck with her tongue after finishing. Several in the crowd cheered this time. She left me with a tingling feeling. "Would you like some?" She held the bottle out.
"Sure," I answered, and she poured a shot of her delicious liquid into my mouth.
The rules Maureen explained were very simple: anyone who wished to drink from my body could. No two people could drink from the same spot, so when they exhausted my front, they would drink from my back, then we would start on the front again from any spot, whether virgin or where someone else had taken their shot. No one could remove my clothing, and I could wear what I felt comfortable in.
The moment I walked into the crowded dining room in that swank mansion and she announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, please allow me to introduce you to Rose," I felt a twinge of regret for choosing my sexiest black lace bra and panties, but hadn't the guts to turn around and flee.
A man whose name I missed drank from my upper stomach, which I sucked in to make a bowl that he lapped his Scotch from. He offered me some, too, and recognizing the bottle from the restaurant's bar as costing more than $100, I took a shot of the smooth, earthy drink.
Individual voices began to make their way to my ears. Hot. Sexy. You missed some! It continued on, alternating men and women, some more tentative, others more assertive, more sensual in their kisses to my body, some tongues continuing to lick long after all traces of alcohol was gone from my skin.
I watched each person, still afraid to look into the crowd, seeing them for the first time as these strangers prepared to kiss parts of my body that only my boyfriends had ever kissed. A woman drank from one shoulder, bending low to expose her lovely cleavage, her husband mirroring her from the other side.
A Latina spread my leg as people oohed and aahed, asking me to flex so the muscle would form a pocket to drink from that failed to work. Her alcohol ran down my thigh and she licked a large potion of the interior and back of my thigh to get all of it, a sight the audience enjoyed at least as much as I did.
A man poured sticky, sweet Irish cream between my breasts and licked it from me, his tongue moving from above to below the center of my bra to get every drop.
Running out of hollow places on my body, a beautiful woman with striking green eyes poured Grey Goose into my mouth as I held it open for her, then kissed it out, a kiss I returned to applause and approving comments. "Did you get any, Rose?"
"No," I answered.
"Here, for you," she said, pouring my mouth full again, too much to swallow in one gulp, so after swallowing half, she kissed me again and we shared the rest in a long kiss.
Maureen stood over me and ran a hand down my stomach. "I believe we have exhausted the first side; are you ready for the rest, Rose?"
Rolling onto my side while still avoiding the faces around me, I rested my head on crossed arms and closed my eyes.
"Lovely," a woman's voice said.
"You've really outdone yourself, Maureen," a man complimented us both.
"She has a remarkable derriere for an Asian woman," another man said, approval of my thong that apparently offended only me, as several people agreed with his assessment of my ass. The thought that this anonymous racist may have licked my body, or might do so at any moment made my face burn, but my head had begun to spin from the alcohol, so that feeling faded as a woman's lips and tongue ran along the small of my back.
I tried to imagine where else they could find to drink from that side of my body, but a man bent my knee slightly and drank from inside of it, sending a shockingly intense feeling up my thigh as he licked that sensitive skin.
"Would you like some, my dear?"
"Yes," I answered, and he tried to pour, but with my face sideways, he spilled it onto my arm.
"Let's try this way," he said, taking a drink, pressing his lips to mine so I could lap it from his mouth with my tongue, kissing for several seconds after I finished.
A woman drank from my other knee, then a man rolled me slightly onto my side and drank from the side of my butt cheek, holding it with his hand to create a small cup for himself. The woman after him followed suit on my other ass cheek, squeezing me pleasantly the whole time her tongue ran across my skin. The crowd really came alive now.
"She really does have a nice ass," a man said.
"That is where I planned to drink" a woman said with disappointment, inciting laughter and several others agreeing they, too, had wanted to drink from my bum.