Author's note: This story was a long time coming, part 3 was more than two years ago. I lost a draft in a hard drive crash, and have been distracted with other writing projects since. It feels good to return to it, and though the continuity may be off a little, part 5 should be along much sooner.
*****
Danny sat in the abandoned bar studying the picture of the redhead on his phone as his beer warmed up. He had no idea who she was, only what the blonde had said she had done. The revenge scheme they had come up with was pretty solid too. It seemed mostly playful, and there was a touch of ironic punishment to it. He tapped the phone's sleep button against the bar, and let it fall over, face down.
Tall and broad, deeply tanned, dark hair, light eyes, and about 15 years' younger than Melissa, he was her type to a tee. She didn't stand a chance.
Danny shouted, smooth and even, toward the kitchen, "Hey Ingrid?"
The blonde cook propped the swing door open on the toe of a Doc Marten. "Yeah?"
"Matt shows up, tell him I got a work thing I have to leave my phone off for, but will be back before y'all close."
Ingrid cocked a grin at him. "Bachelorettes or housewives?"
"Not a strip gig. Another thing."
"The chains?"
"Just tell Matt I'll be back with some money."
She pointed her chin toward him in a half nod and said, "Sure thing." As the kitchen door swung back closed, he let out a single high breath, took the rest of his beer down like a shot, then checked his texts for the name of the club he was headed to.
The blonde had found Danny at his work, an adult toy store, where he worked mostly the counter. The owners though, also ran a lucrative events company out of the back room. Often he worked as a stripper for events that required one, and occasionally as an instructor for the other kind of events they ran. His instruction specialty was what ultimately landed him this side-gig. Knots.
He remembered the blonde woman coming to the toy store the day before. She had rushed in, wearing Jackie-O sunglasses, and her hair in a scarf. She bought three pairs of crotchless panties, and stared, slackjawed, at a giant realistically cast dildo as he rang her up.
When she came back this morning, they had talked at some length. As soon as she burst into the store again, he figured she was back for the dildo. He asked if he could help her, and when she said, "I don't know," he almost offered to grab a female coworker before the whole story just came out. She had a way of talking like water ran from an open faucet with the knob broken off.
Just beneath the surface Danny could feel himself going through the stages of white-knighting himself. The redhead was, without a doubt, quite a bully. Katie had asked him for help with getting her to stop, and that was all. He couldn't take any moral high ground considering their plan was basically just turnabout. He was helping the Katie strike back, but ultimately, he was doing it mostly to pay back Mike, and he had to remember that.
Melissa was done with this shit-show of a vacation. Other than the back-room ass-fucking she took two days ago, she had yet to get laid in Las Vegas. The whole time there she had only got off with her toys, and she could be doing that at home. Tonight though, that was going to change, she was sure of it.
Getting dressed, Melissa always started with her shoes. She picked out a pair of red patent leather heels just because some guy years ago had told her they made her calves look nice. She ran her nails thought the downward pointing arrow she kept her pubes waxed into, trying to determine if she needed a trim or not. Smiling at the mirror, she said to herself, "You are so getting laid tonight." From her garment bag, she took out two dresses she had yet to wear this trip, one red, and one black. She held each up to her neck, and turned to the mirror. The red dress landed in a heap on her bed, and was followed by the hanger the black one was previously on. Wearing a bra with the thin strapped dress was tough to pull off. She wore a bra so infrequently, she wasn't even sure she had packed one appropriate for the dress. With the dress on she leaned forward at the mirror, her fake tits nearly fell out. She pulled it back up, and cocked a smile. The dress clung to her like wet tissue. It was thin and loose enough that she could make out the outline of her nipples though it. Not only did it frame up her cleavage right at center stage, but was slit high on both sides, showing off her lengthy, firm legs. She often joked that her legs where her best feature that hadn't been purchased, but in this dress, and those heels, they may have been the best outright.
"Perfect."
At her carry-on, she dug through her panties, but after considering only one or two pairs remembered how easy it was to get guys to look up Katie's skirt when she wasn't wearing any. She closed the suitcase, checked her makeup, the time, and then left the room behind wearing only the dress and her shoes.
Going without panties had been a good call. It always made her feel as though it adjusted her posture in a way that hung a blinking neon sign over her saying "I will fuck you." In the reflection of the chrome doors of the elevator, through the thin material of the dress, she could nearly make out the faint outline of her nipples, and the shape of her pubic hair. At the floor below hers, the elevator stopped. She took a step to the back, and when the door opened a young couple practically floated into the elevator on a cloud; love birds. They pressed the button for the mezzanine, and the elevator was on its way down again. The man of the couple openly groped at his girlfriend as if they were alone. Melissa had a thing for younger men, which meant she was familiar with their shortcomings, and couldn't help but notice that his method of groping was strangely open handed, as though he were just trying to smooth her dress out.
She rolled her eyes hard. He must have caught the reflection in the chrome, because he turned slightly toward her and said, "Sorry, ma'am." A part of her loved being called that, he had a nice accent at least. Southern of some kind. "We haven't seen each other in a spell, and well, I'm just overly excited is all."
Melissa grinned and cocked an eyebrow. "No trouble." Her voice smiled. "It just looks like you've never grabbed a woman before."
The couple exchanged glances, but neither could tell if she was being rude or not. Another inadequacy of the young.
"You really should go for," Melissa gestured tentatively at the woman's hip, "May I?"
Again, the kids exchanged glances, and the young woman nodded her on.
Melissa slipped her hand onto the woman's hip. "What you want to go for, is right here. Right in from the bone." Standing next to her, Melissa reached behind her, and fit the curve of the woman's hip under her thumb, her fingers stretching around the other side. "Go ahead. Get your meathook set there."
He looked at her like she was half mad, but he was clearly going to humor her. With his hand on his girl's hip, Melissa adjusted his grip, then said, "Right there. Give a squeeze there."
He did. The young woman's expression immediately slacked. Clearly involuntarily she said, "Oh."
The door chimed for the mezzanine. As the young couple got off the elevator the man thanked Melissa, and the woman repeated the same gratitude more sincerely. As the door closed she gave them the thumbs up and grinned like a mom seeing the kids off to prom.
Alone now, she repeated her earlier pep talk: "You are so getting laid tonight."
Of the three women, Melissa was the first one in the lobby. Typically, she was on time, and the other two weren't. She normally saw tardiness as a sign of disrespect, but with Katie she knew it was more a symptom of her dim nature. She got a Cape Cod at the hotel bar, and lit a Virginia Slim while she waited.
It wasn't long before Rita joined her, seemingly dragging the dread of leaving her room with her. The outside world seemed fake to her somehow, like all the time she had spent staring at her computer had raked her depth perception, and made everything feel like it was shot on video and broadcast in digital. Rita, once again, took her manner of dress to still let her look attractive, while not upstaging her friends. Another grey tank top, and an ankle length skirt, tight with thick black and white stripes horizontally.
Rita pulled herself up onto a bar stool next to Melissa. She exhaled high, and looked over at the redhead through her bangs.
"How you doing trooper?"
Rita blinked a few times before answering. "I think I'm going to need a vacation after this vacation." She took another deep breath. "All I've done is drink and jill off."
"Can I get you a drink?" Rita hadn't noticed the bartender walk up, and became slightly embarrassed. "You can even jill off here. I won't mind."
Covering her mouth with an open hand, Rita said, "Oh. Uh. Sorry."
The bartender was young and handsome. He grinned a straight toothed smile at her, and said, "That sounds like a pretty perfect vacation to me."
