The Quaranteam Universe is the creation of CorruptingPower, used with permission.
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Chapter 15.5 - Andi's Tale
All Characters depicted in sexual situations in this story are over the age of 18.
This chapter takes a slight detour, in that it focuses on Miles Davies' stepsister, Andromeda.
****Micanopy, FL - 2200, Thursday, September 17, 2020****
Andi finished her set onstage at The Café, having worked her way through the normal three-song set, removing layers of clothing during each song, until nothing remained by the end of the third song but her garter, stuffed with bills. As she bent down to gather her discarded clothing and the few dollars of cash tossed onto the stage, a cascade of catcalls wafted her way from one of the only tables with customers - a group of scruffy-looking men hanging out at a corner table.
"Hey babe, why don't you bring that fine ass over here and give us a dance?" one of the men called out to her lewdly.
"Christ," Jenna whispered as she passed her on stage, "Roy should really toss those guys. They're gonna be trouble."
"Yeah, but times are tough, with the lockdowns - we're lucky to be open, I suppose," Andi responded in a hushed tone, heading to the dressing room.
"Officially, we're not," Roy reminded her as she walked past the DJ booth, "not officially, that is. But, greased palms work wonders with the local law enforcement. Besides - they're all focused on keeping Gainesville in Gainesville just now, it seems," he posited, referring to the recent quarantine zone that had been erected around the party capital of university towns, "so we're not the gator closest to the boat."
"Don't remind me, Roy," Andi complained, putting on some silky lingerie. "That shit's kept me from going home - I've been crashing on my Dad's couch."
"You can crash on MY couch instead, if you like," Roy leered at her, making her shudder.
"I'm good," she replied, rebuffing him and returning to the floor. She wondered briefly about whether or not Roy, or Phil, the bouncer, were going to enforce The Café's 'hands off' policy, given that they were already operating in a pretty dark grey area. The other employees at The Cafe weren't taking the government's recommendations on social distancing and masking during this pandemic seriously. Neither were the few patrons that she'd seen in her short time here. Legally, they were tiptoeing a fine line regarding whether they should even be open for business. Technically, they were supposed to be enforcing strict masking policies - which they weren't - as well as a six-foot separation between the girls and the customers, which would cost the girls a lot of missed tips. But still, thus far, the staff had been pretty good about trying to keep the entertainers from being physically mauled by the customers.
With the crew at the corner table, she had her doubts. They were all good-ol-boy types, looking scraggly with their overgrown beards and shaggy hair. Not the usual crowd of lonely grad students, the handful of truckers that seemed to be regulars, or the occasional married couples looking to put a little spice in their evening.
The small number of individuals who'd been sitting at the stage packed it in for the night as Andi was making her way out onto the floor. Having no other customers to service, she steeled her resolve and approached the rough-looking crew of rednecks, all of whom had been loudly cat-calling the girls on shift all night, from the poor waitress who kept getting her ass groped when she delivered their beers, to the dancers working the stage.
At least they're tipping the girls, she told herself. It could be worse. Not that it would make a difference, in her case, she thought as she stopped at their table.
"Now, aren't you boys out after y'all's bedtimes?" she drawled as she slowly swayed her hips while turning her shoulders side to side, putting all of her curves to work.
Andi was in her late twenties, but with her hairstyle and makeup, she looked like just another college co-ed working her way through school by pole dancing. She'd been told before that she resembled a tall Anna Kendrick but with bigger breasts, appearing younger than her true age. Standing at a comfortable 5' 8", tipping the scales at 130 pounds, she was toned without being overly muscular. Her Size C tits stood out proud, with their dark pink nipples jutting forth from beneath her silky babydoll nightie, the tiny barbell piercings clearly visible in each. Her firm tummy gave way to a pleasant pair of hips, promising easy child delivery in her future. Long, toned legs gave way to an average pair of feet with nicely done nails. Her hair was her biggest callout, though, as she had it cut in a shaggy mohawk, the sides of her head shaved smooth, and her bleached blonde hair teased and moussed into standing up in a bouncy coif, with about an inch of coloring at the tips. Tonight, she was sporting bright blue tips.
It was all part of her façade, her image that she had carefully cultivated, seeking to put her exactly where she was now. In the path of trouble.
The big goon on the left reached out a massive hand, the size of a dinner plate, and smacked Andi's ass, grabbing hold of her left cheek and squeezing it, making her wince just a little. "Careful, stud," she warned him. "The Café's got a strict No Hands policy." She was not surprised when he just laughed, still holding onto her butt.
"Now, don't you go worrying about ol' Phil over there at the door, or Roy the DJ," the big goon boasted, making a big show of smacking her ass as he said it. "We paid them to mind their business, not ours, so they're not gonna be any trouble."
"Well, you need to keep your fucking paws to yourself and act pretty, 'cause you sure aint paid ME yet!" she snapped back feistily, knocking his paw away and stepping away from him, turning to address the other men at the table. "Since y'all are behaving yourselves, what can I do for you, sugar?" she oozed at the redneck sitting on the right, licking her lips as she maintained eye contact with him.
The man sitting across from her at the table chuckled, giving the handsy guy a shove. "Guess she told you, Rod! Best mind your manners if you wanna get anything from this one!"
"It's all good, Sam. She's just a little feisty - aint been broke-in yet. We'll fix that in a bit, don't you worry!" the big goon guffawed.
The third man, the one Andi was standing in front of, scooted his chair back with a big grin. "Aint you purty!" he crowed, as he patted his thighs, motioning her closer. "How 'bout you set a spell right here on ol' Hank's lap, and let's you 'n' me chat a bit?" Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a roll of twenty-dollar bills, peeled one off, and laid it on the table.
"Well, now," Andi purred with a sweet grin on her face. "A man with manners!" Scooping up the twenty, she shifted her hips and sat side-saddle in his lap, saying, "Don't mind if I do!"
No sooner had she sat down than Hank started rubbing his big hands up and down her smooth, bare back. She suppressed a shiver. Truth be told, it was a bit chilly in the café - Roy had the damn thermostat too low again, given the small crowd tonight. Still, it made her nipples poke out, earning her more than a few extra tips in recent days.
