Cocotte

by David Manoa

  COCOTTE

  ~~~

  David Manoa

  Copyright 2014 David Manoa

  AMAZON Edition

  ~~~~

  The author asserts the moral right to be identified as

  the author of this work.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including photocopying, recording, information storage and retrieval systems, or otherwise, without prior permission in writing from the author, with the exception of a book reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  ~~~~~~

  The onset of vertigo struck me. I was out on the town with my business partner Marc Strong to celebrate our new acquisition, a lucrative deal. We sold eighty percent of our patented technology to a company called Cerberus Petroleum. To be blunt, we were now multi-millionaires and we decided to pay ourselves forward.

  Marc and I staggered past the line of seedy nightclubs. His face had that look of hunger and sex and I knew where we were going.

  The streets leading up to his favourite strip club were wet and littered with trash. Taking a shortcut through the alley had me nervous, the way it was barely lit, and the strong smell of urine from the drunks that took comfort in the dark to relieve themselves.

  Marc was eager to get there, walking briskly in front of me. I couldn’t believe he could handle the amount of tequila shots we had and still be coherent. I couldn’t match him so I stopped drinking, but I was hungry too. Not for women, but for a nice greasy steak burger, with chips and a hot dog, dipped in tomato sauce. My mouth was beginning to salivate when we arrived at the street, to smell the lingering scent of the burger joint, which was on my left. The strip club was on my right and my body turned, to what it needed the most.

  “Oliver! Where are you going?”

  “Marc, I’m hungry. Can we grab something to eat and then head up?”

  Marc glanced at his watch and I took out my phone to check the time. It was four a.m. He shook his head and walked over and put his arm around me.

  “We'll grab a feed after. Let’s check out the chicks first!”

  “Marc, can’t you resist the urge for just one night?”

  He shook his head again and gave me this devilish grin.

  “When Marc wants the pussy - he gets the pussy,” he said, holding his crotch up like Michael Jackson.

  I rolled my eyes. My stomach was growling for hot food, hot shower and a warm bed. Marc would gloat about the women he would sleep with at Showgirls. I think the money we would be making now, made him think he has a new sense of power and entitlement.

  The day started with us celebrating in the office, when he went to the bank and took out $100,000 dollars in cash. We sat at the boardroom table while he split the money into two piles. We stuffed about five hundred one hundred dollar bills in each pocket of our suits. We looked ridiculous with six rectangular piles bulging out.

  We shouted everyone and anyone, at the bars we started at. We were like celebrities the way everyone wanted to be our friend. We went to a bar named Danny Doolans. The women were friendly and it was amusing how quickly our rent a crowd gathered. We went up to the second floor to do our tequila shots. We decided to ‘Make it rain’ with the money, we threw on the dance floor. Watching the cash float down like feathers in the air, amongst the smoke and laser lights was memorable. It caused a frenzy, like throwing bloodied fish into an ocean of sharks.

  “Mate, come up and have some fun, The girls up there do absolutely anything you want… “Anything…” Marc added.

  “Marc, I’m tired. I’m going to grab a taxi and head off.”

  “C’mon, come up, and get your dick sucked at least.”

  “No thanks.” I said.

  I always had this negative association with prostitutes and strippers. I drive past this suburb of Papatoetoe, on my way back from work. The women I see on the corners… Well, that’s if they are women, freaked me out. I always gave Marc stick about his indulgences, not that he seemed to care. It was a shame. He had a beautiful wife and two-year-old daughter.

  I’ll admit, it did disturb me. But what people do in their personal lives was none of my business.

  “Oliver c’mon, will you wait for me at least?”

  I looked at my phone. It was now four fifteen a.m. I sighed and nodded.

  We were now outside the entrance of Showgirls. The mirrors at the entrance reflected our distorted figures and our bloodshot eyes. My vision shifted up to the moving disco ball and the kaleidoscope of light it emitted. The bouncers raised an eyebrow at both of us, dismissing these drunkards, probably thinking if they should let us in.

  “You will only be three minutes right?” I smirked at Marc.

  “Very funny Oliver…” He licked his lips.

  There were two entrances to Showgirls. The main entrance where you go to the bar and stage, where the majority of the people went, but Marc was taking us upstairs on the right, where he would do his thing.

  My legs ached as I walked up the pink neon-lit narrow stairwell. The carpet was soft and fluffy and it felt like it took an eternity to get up there. I was feeling dirty about it all even though I still drunk, there was that sense of unease and embarrassment. Marc turned back and laughed.

  “Oliver, welcome to the stairway to pussy heaven!” he said, his arms out like a Baptist preacher.

  Yeah right, pussy hell.

  We finally got to the top, where we were greeted by the cashier who was behind the counter, separated by the five steel bars that came right down, which gave the feel of a pawn shop, no pun intended. On the left was a solid wooden door leading into the lounge area. It opened up briefly, and a client walked out with a relaxed look on his face. I could only get a peek, to see the leather couches and the mirrors.

  The cashier was a blonde woman in the late fifties by the appearance of the wrinkles on her upper lip. She was all slouched over the table with her gut and large breasts resting on it. If this was a representation of the ladies inside the joint, then Marc is a sick man indeed.

  It turns out Marc was a regular. She greeted him by his name. I swear I could see the dollar signs in her hazel eyes, when Marc put down his cash. He started rubbing his hands vigorously, I turned to walk back down the stairs.

  “Hey! Where you going?”

  “I’ll wait for you outside.”

  “Chill out man, there's a bar in the lounge. You can have a few nightcaps while you wait for me.”

  I paused and hesitated.

  “C’mon Oliver, don’t be such a prude.”

  “I promise I’ll be three minutes ha-ha.”

  I shrugged my shoulders and went into the lounge with him.

  ***

  The ambient sound of chill out music entered my ears. A soft, warm, inviting light widened my eyes. The bar was on my right, but I wasn’t thirsty. I saw the number of girls sitting on the cream coloured, leather couches. They were all seductively stunning. A good thing my pockets were still full of cash because it did a great job of hiding my arousal.

  The couches were set out like an ‘S’. Mirrors set against the wall made the girls look like, they were sitting on clouds. Three stripper poles came down in front of the couches. The way they were angled made them look like there was six, with the mirrors. It smelt very sweet in there, but confusing. Each of the ladies wore a different perfume, each with its own scented layer of flowers and musk that divided my attention.

  On the nearest couch there were two brunettes with shoulder length hair, one of medium build, the other voluptuous. They both had chestnut coloured eyes that were staring at us, like we were fresh meat. There was an Asian woman who wore an oriental blue garment made of silk. She had these mesmerising liq
uid eyes, and pouted when we turned our attention towards her.

  Marc all of a sudden had this spring in his step and sat down between the Asian woman and the brunette. I stood there looking like an idiot, while other girls waved, to get me to come over. Marc put their hands down and tried to be a funny guy, by telling them I was gay.

  Shrugging my shoulders, I glanced at my phone again and walked over to the bar. Then I caught a glimpse of a young blonde in the corner of my left eye.

  Her hair was shoulder length and silky straight. She caught my glance and flicked her hair behind her ears, revealing sparkling diamond earrings that looked like faint stars. The skin-tight white dress she wore came up to the middle of her thighs. I turned my head to make full eye contact with her. Her eyes were electric blue and the way the colour contrasted with her earrings made her eyes stand out like the sun. She squinted for some reason, when she looked at me. She crossed her legs and I noticed the muscle tone on her tanned skin.

  Beautiful. I was so hypnotised by her that I bumped into the bar, making a fool of myself.

  “It looks like you had too much to drink mate!” the barman said laughing.

  “Yeah, too much beauty is what I’m drunk on.” I said.

  “Ha-ha. None of the girls tickle your fancy?”

  “No. Not my thing. I’m just waiting, on my friend over there.”

  “Understood mate, ya must have a missus. Can I get you anything to drink?”

  “Yeah, a CC dry and a lot of ice.”

  The barman laughed. “Sure thing boss, a lot of ice.”

  I sat at the stool and turned my head to the right, to see Marc engage in what looked like stimulating conversation with the three girls. He had his arms around them, probably talking a whole lot of bull. The Asian woman had her hand on his thigh, stroking it, when the barman put my drink on the bar. I turned and the woman who caught my attention before was beside me on my left.

  “Hello,” she said with the most inviting smile. She moved closer, leaning towards me. She was stunning. I paused to take a closer look at her. I got the sense she knew I was attracted. She kept her eyes on me and the slight pout to her mouth and the way her tongue, moistened her top lip made her irresistible. I held my stare and lifted my glass to take a sip.

  Being a business man, I got that she just wanted a sale, so I tried to dismiss her.

  “Sorry, I’m waiting for my friend.” I said politely.

  There was now another man at the bar, on her left. My eyes shifted to him, he was this overweight drunk with a large beard and beady eyes. I cringed and looked back at the woman. I understood why she wanted to work on me.

  “I just want to chat that’s all.” She said.

  Yeah, right. “What’s your name?” I said.

  “Emily.

  Yours?”

  “Oliver.”

  Another two guys walked in and one went to the lounge, at the pleasure of the two brunettes who now had some company. I watched when Marc got up and followed the Asian lady down the corridor into the room. He winked at me and did the thrusting motion, before he went in. I eyeballed him and pointed at my watch and he responded back by holding three fingers up.

  He better be back in three minutes…

  My attention shifted back to Emily when she moved over to my right. She put her hand on my wrist, to examine my watch. It was a platinum silver Rolex. She stroked the underside of my wrist with her fingers. Her hands felt soft, her manicured nails were exceptional. I sensed that she thought she had had a lucky strike, in hustling me.

  “It’s a very nice watch, Oliver.”

  “My father gave it to me, a gift for my twenty-first birthday.”

  She said nothing, but she flinched when I mentioned my father. There was an unusual expression of emotion on her face.

  I was under the spell of her touch, from her gentle and caressing strokes. She lifted my hand and she blew on the watch face, then wiped off my fingerprint with the sleeve of my shirt.

  Her gaze shifted up to me, her left hand on my right thigh. Her eyes widened when she touched something hard and big, midway.

  “I’m carrying a lot of money in my pocket…”

  “I can look after you…” she whispered as she glanced down to my crotch.

  I had to deflate her intentions and quick. “Emily, can I be honest. I’m not interested."

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “Kinda makes me uneasy to be honest,” "This is just not my thing, "I added. I don’t want to waste your time.” She held her stare when I lifted my glass up to drink.

  “You’re not. Why? Do you have a problem over what I do?”

  I put my glass down and swirled my tongue inside my mouth, trying to get the bitter taste out…

  “I would rather pick up women at club or bar and have some dignity. And respect.”

  Her eyes widened, she folded her arms and got defensive. “How do you know if they're clean?”

  “Clean?” I said, puzzled.

  “I mean, how do you know if these women are not harbouring any sexual diseases? Herpes, H.I.V, Hepatitis C?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Exactly. Everyone here in this establishment is clean, we are all tested.”

  I paused. “I just got my hang-ups, it doesn’t feel...right.”

  “Oh! You must be one of those religious types?” She moved closer and put her hand on my inner thigh, her fingers tracing along the outside of my pocket.

  “Not really, a preacher told me to watch out for seductive women.”

  “So you think I’m seductive?”

  I held my tongue.

  Emily put out a cute chuckle. But her presence was arousing, her thumb and forefinger were stroking, the outside of my watch again.

  “Oliver, everyone needs a release. It is what I do…”

  Her charms were starting to engulf me and the pockets of cash were calling out to spend it on a night, of intense pleasure with Emily. I closed my eyes for a second to get the image of her on top of me out of my mind.

  “Oliver… Let’s be honest, when you go home, you are just going to masturbate anyway…”

  My eyes opened and I caught her stare. I was falling into her trap.

  I swallowed, and looked at my watch it was already four thirty a.m. “Can I ask you question?” I said.

  “Sure.”

  “How much do you charge?”

  “For an hour, its $250 dollars, plus extras.”

  “What would you do?”

  I swallowed when she smiled. She got comfortable and explained. A part of me wished I hadn’t asked the question.

  “I would take you in the room and strip you down, I would run a hot bath and bathe you. Once you are relaxed I would start on your cock, stroking it and sucking it, till it’s nice and hard. Once you are aroused, I would start on a missionary position… Then from there it’s anything you want.

  Being hung over didn’t help. The way she said it made me feel I was already there. My hand was in my pocket ready to take the cash out. I took a deep breath to sober up and think straight. I nearly threw my drink on my face.

  “And out of that you make?” I said, trying to change the subject.

  She paused for a moment. “About a hundred. The rest goes back to the establishment.”

  “What did you mean when you said extras?”

  “Some clients like to do threesomes, which is $450 all up. We cater to most fantasies.”

  I raised my eyebrow, intrigued by the shopping list.

  “I don’t do anal though,” she said quickly.

  “I wasn’t asking.”

  She laughed.

  I took another sip. “How many guys would see in one night?”

  “On an average night, maybe about six or seven.”

  My jaw dropped, and a sense of respect and my arousal for Emily fell even further.

  Being business minded, I calculated her take home pay to about seven hundred bucks. Not bad for a day’s wage. She would clear about
$3500 a week which equated to $14,000, a month which was $168,000 tax-free. Gosh, her salary was the same as the sales manager at our firm, and that’s an average night!

  “Emily, do you enjoy what you do?”

  She didn’t respond.

  “Why do you do it? I know you must have kids huh?”

  “No. I’m way too young to be thinking of having kids.”

  “How old are you? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “Twenty-three. You?"

  “Thirty-two.”

  I shook my head. I had this feeling, of sadness and pity for her. I thought about Marc’s beautiful family and their two-year-old daughter. Gosh, how would Marc feel if her daughter, grew up to end up in joint like this. I leaned back in the stool and smoothed my face. “You’re just a kid. How did you end up here?” Emily placed her necklace in her top and leaned back. “Oliver, I made my own decision being here and I’m not a kid.”

  “So you had a choice. Between this, and what?”

  I noticed her glance towards my watch. “I studied towards a bachelor of business, where I graduated with honours. I continued on to get a post grad, when I ticked up almost $90,000 in tuition fees. I didn’t want to be in so much debt, that when I did land my dream job, I wouldn’t be paying off my student loan.”

  “How long have you been doing all this?”

  “A year and a half.”

  My business mind starting counting, until Emily interrupted my train of thought. “I paid off my student loan within a year.”

  “Why aren’t you chasing your dream job? Gosh, you just have to persevere like everyone does, out of study. You find something eventually.”

  Emily folded her arms again. “Money. Do you have any idea, what a graduate starts out at with no experience? I applied for jobs. I got turned away. No one was willing to give a young woman a chance. I settled on an intern role, filing bullshit paperwork and making coffee.”

  She paused for moment, getting riled up.

  “Oliver, I got paid a starting salary of $32,000 per year and when I paid off my loan, with the nights I did here I realised I was making more money than my C.E.O.”