The Gentlemans Club

Buried beneath the thick-down comforter , in an deep mahogany antique bed I slept, and somewhere, faraway, a piercing sound grew louder and louder. Groaning I flung the cloaking blanket aside, reaching over, eyes closed, hand waving franticly in the air, making contact with the little malicious box that contained the horrendous screams. With a sigh, I crawled out of bed. Pulling on a terry cloth robe over my long, white chemise.

Feet padding down the stairs to get a fresh cup of coffee. Standing before the brewing pot, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Silently praying for the magic-java to finish its job in line. Images flashed into my head like a movie seen pressed on fast-forwarding - faces, voices, the scents of days gone by flooded my mind. "Oh my god!" Eyes flying open. Laughing out loud. Reflections of the previous nights dreams crashed into my mind. I hadn't thought her in years.

I was 22 then, living in Oregon. Chuckling. I bartended nights at a local gentlemen's club. The hours were long, but at that age, the money, was indescribable. Dark liquid splashed into my mug, adding a little vanilla cream, I watched as the two fused into one. Walking outside onto my wrap around porch, I curled up on the sea tattered wicker couch , sinking deep into the cushions as I gazed out at the bay. The morning mist kissed the still waters. Coating the paint on the rails of the deck. I can remember that night like it was yesterday.

Running a fingernail over my lips, I thought of Natasha. I remember her. Closing my eyes now, calling to the images in my mind of her. I can still see the sharp features of her face. Her smooth dark olive skin. The prominent firm jaw. Full, ripe dark currant stained lips that always held a slight wicked sinister grin. Her eyes heavy, as if she had just awoken, doe eyed, smoky even. Her long straight blond hair pulled up loosely on her head. Sipping at my coffee, I let myself reminisce about her a little more. She stood a little over my 5"4, I remember she was curvy and voluptuous in a way that made both men and women stop to admire her when she past by you. Her full round high breasts, dark protruding nipples, swaying when she danced. The seductive alluring curve of her hips, down to her tiny waist. And those long, long leg.

I was running late that day. I pulled my jeep behind the building , grabbed my bag and ran through the back. "Damn it Morgaine- it's 7:45!" A scratchy, smokers voice barked - that could only belong to the club owner, James. Tossing my bag and keys into my locker, I leaned over to place a gentle kiss on the villains cheek, "Hi James." Slamming the locker door shut I spun the lock, and made my way through the kitchen and into the bar.

Pouring a cup of stale coffee, I gave myself a few moments to let my eyes adjust to the darkness of the dimly lit room. "Well, Sweet Jesus, look at you." My space behind the bar stood almost three feet above the club landing, I looked down at Natasha. "Hi honey, what can I get for you?" She answered by coming up the stairs and walking behind the bar to me. Holding my hand in hers, she held me at arms length, taking me in. She started at my black harness boots, her eyes traveling up the snug black leather pants that appeared to be painted on, she moved one hand to my bare waist, her eyes straining over the swell of my breasts, where the sheer top crisscrossed. Her finger trailed over my collarbone. She reached up, to tuck loose dark curl of hair behind my ear.

She leaned closer. Her warm breath on my neck, "Mmm " she moaned, "Calyx, your wearing the perfume I gave you."

"Yeah....thanks, again." My chest constricted, I could barley get my words out.

"I like it," she smiled as she pulled away, "on you."

I let a throaty laugh pass through my lips, swatting her away. Watching her as she sauntered towards the main stage.

I poured a round of drinks for a group of regular groups. Wiping down the bar, I leaning back against the counter and watched Natasha's set.

She wore dangerously high spiked black heels, a lacy, sheer, thong and matching demi bra in the color of platinum.

Her willowy arms raised above her, one hand snaking along the top of the stage set, guiding her way around. Rolling her hips. Watching me. My G O D. She was dancing for me.

My eyes darting around the room. Taking in the clientele. The place was packed.

Men in Armani suits, faded Levi's, thermal shirts, and leather boots filled the stage. Seeing to the cocktail waitress , (Cindy), her orders flooded my bar, my eyes never leaving Natasha's...--- never missing a beat. Three margaritas, 2 on the rocks, 1 blended, and one with no salt. Four Rum and Cokes, Three whiskey seven's, Five bottles of Bud, Two draft pulls of Bass, Two shots of Hornito's, And, if you can believe it, A Chi Chi. Laughing out loud to myself, now...what man would order that?

Crossing my arms over my chest, mesmerizes by her seductive dance on the main stage. She stood poised in the center stage. Facing me. Head leaned up against the brass pole.. Arching her back a fraction, hands slowly ran up her face, closing her eyes, I watched as she unclasping her hair clip. A sheet of silky tresses tumbled loose covering her breasts.

She was bewitching. The men came alive. Bottles of beer being slammed down on the tables in excitement. With one last wink in my direction she turned her attention back to her awaiting audience.

Hours past as I saw to my customers and listened to the never ending complaints by the girls. I counted the nights sales as the doorman Dan restocked my bar for Tuesday's shift. A sharp click of the door locks and silence succumbs the main arena of the club. In the back, the girls counted their cash, took off their makeup and costumes while sharing their tales of the night with one another.

With slow calculated strides I walked over to the DJ booth, a single malt scotch on the rocks in my hand. I slid a CD in the stereo, Mick Jagger's voice whispered out from the speakers above my head.

"Morgaine, " a husky voice called to me. I didn't need to turn around to see who it was. Far below the surface I exhaled a slow, broken breath, just as her hands reached the small of my back. Softly they ran up my back, under my long dark hair, and began to massage the back of my neck. "Your all knotted up" I heard her say. I felt her push my hair over one shoulder as her lips kissed the nape of my neck.

My hands started to shake a bit, ice rattling, echoing throughout the booth. She sat down on the stool behind me, pulling me into her lap.

Tipping my glass, I tossed back the smooth liquid, a fire burned down my chest, spreading a deep blanket of warmth through my bones.

Her hands massaged the top my shoulders, slowly sliding down the front of my shirt, gently cupping my breasts. An involuntary moan escaped my lips. My head fell back, resting on her shoulder.

Once again she leaned in , inhaling her scent on me, her lips brushing my neck, her tongue darting out along the sensitive skin just below my ear. Fingers, all ten of them, tapped down my body, tracing the waist band of my leather pants. Nails dipping in.

I closed my eyes, all arresting thoughts becoming foggy, trying to summons the words to protest when she gripped my inner thighs with both hands. "Natasha..." I gasped.

She gathered my long hair in one hand, gently tugging on it, pulling my head back, closer to hers. Her hand pulling my face closer, her full lips closing over mine, nipping at my bottom lip. Sucking at it. The tip of her tongue skimming the inside of my upper lip. Gently tugging.

Caving. I stood up, turning around, straddling her. Wrapping my thighs around her waist, she cupped my ass with her hands, pulling me closer. Pressing my hips down into hers. My hands dived into her long blonde hair, over come with an unknown need. I slipped my tongue into her mouth, swirling it around in a seductive little dance.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" she breathed. "I watch you all night long, every night. Strutting your stuff back there behind your bar, " her words rushed out at me.

The door between the bar & the club swung open just then, girls started making there way out into the room.

"Mmm...come one, let's go back to my place," she whispered.

To Be Continued...