I am a pussy.
“I gotta bounce.” I hold my fist to him, and he bumps it.
“Give Lulu a hug for me,” Gio says and shuts his locker. “Hey, have you heard from Leeyan?” It’s weird for Giovanni to ask about her. They didn’t exactly get along.
“Not in months. Why?”
Giovanni shrugs and slings his towel over his shoulder. “Nothing really, I just heard something.” He grabs his shampoo and shuts his locker. “You know that dude Andrew, owns the dry cleaners where she used to work?”
“Yeah. He’s like forty-five and still lives with his mother.” He was also in love with Leeyan.
“I was picking up some shirts, and he mentioned something about her coming home.” I know my best friend; his lack of eye contact tells me he’s hiding something.
“Leeyan couldn’t stand Andrew. She used to tell me he creeped her out, which is why she quit. There’s no way she kept in touch with that asshole.”
“Yeah, it’s probably bullshit. That guy is a fucking wanker.” Gio turns towards the showers, and I leave.
I can’t get the idea of Leeyan coming home out of my head. I check to make sure I didn’t miss an email or text. Lulu plays games on my cell sometimes; she could’ve cleared the notifications. I’m so focused on looking for any sign of communication from Leeyan that I almost miss the stop for Lulu’s school. I hop off the bus and see her standing at the gate.
“Daddy,” she calls to me and waves. “Miss Carla wants to talk to you.”
Great.
I shove my phone in my pocket and approach Miss Carla. She makes subtle movements to correct her hair and adjust her clothing. I’ve gained twenty pounds of muscle since Lulu started preschool last year. Miss Carla has noticed.
I wouldn’t notice Miss Carla if she weren’t Lulu’s teacher. I’m not saying she’s hard to look at. She’s actually kind of pretty for someone pushing thirty-five. All of her friends are probably married or dating, and here she is, teaching rug rats how to sing the alphabet song, waiting for a single dad to see past the circles under her eyes and tangled hair.
“Hello, Theo.” She smiles her teacher smile. “How was your day?”
“Good.” I keep our conversations short. There’s no reason for us to be friends. Plus, it’s fucking weird.
“Lulu tells me you toured the Elite Institute. That’s marvelous.”
“Yeah, we did.”
“Will you be registering Lulu for the fall semester?”
“That’s the plan.” I look at Lulu, and she squeals.
She pats Lulu’s shoulder and gives me a weird look. “So, the tuition won’t be an issue?”
I guess her question is valid. Why would I send Lulu to a state funded pre-school if I can afford a place like the Elite Institute?
“Lulu says you’re a dance instructor. She’s quite proud of it actually. She told the entire class about how you rehearse in the kitchen.”
Oh sweet, Jesus.
“I’m not a teacher,” I clarify and look at Lulu. The little shit.
“Sorry, daddy.” Lulu shrugs. “Miss Carla asked me what you did at work, and I didn’t know what it was called.”
Miss Carla is the one blushing now.
“It’s okay, Lulu.” I squeeze her little hand. Lulu knows I have a job at night and that I rehearse dance moves in the kitchen, but that’s it. That’s all she’ll ever know.
“I didn’t mean to pry,” Miss Carla insists.
Yes, you did.
“We like to engage the children in conversation, asking about parents is usually a safe topic.”
Sure it is.
She spins a ring on her thumb nervously as she waits for me to tell her how I can afford the outrageous tuition at The Elite Institute. Miss Carla may be smarter than me; she definitely makes more money. When women like her on sitting in the hot seat during my show; brow sweaty, cardigan unbuttoned, legs spread wide. The size of my bank account is the last thing on her mind.
“No worries.” I give Miss Carla a panty-dropping smile. “See you Monday.”
Walking away without answering her question must drive Miss Carla insane because she yells my name in desperation.
I enjoy the moment and try to hide my grin when I turn.
Miss Carla is walking in my direction. “I was, uh, just wondering,” she chuckles at her ridiculous demeanor. “I was just wondering if you were, if Lulu told you, about the end of year picnic. It’s at Dolores Park…” She continues to ramble the date and time. “I’m really looking forward to seeing you, not just you; I mean all the fathers. PARENTS. I mean parents, there.”
I try not to laugh as Miss Carla loses her cool. For some sick reason, I get off on it.
“Yes, we’ll be there.”
“Have a lovely weekend, Theo and Lulu.” Miss Carla shouts.
Lulu yells goodbye and pulls me towards the bus stop.
“I think Miss Carla likes you.” Even Lulu notices. “She smiles really weird when she sees you.”
“Really,” I laugh. “Show me?”
Lulu makes a crazed face and fans herself, mimicking Miss Carla. It’s actually an excellent interpretation.
I take Lulu to her favorite café for dinner. Sylvie usually cooks for us on Fridays, but Aaron, the asshole, is coming to visit Reese tonight. She’s too stressed to cook. She probably hasn’t eaten in two days. I hate that prick, but he’s Reese’s father, he has a right to see him. I only let her use the flat because it seemed to make her feel comfortable, which worries me on an entirely different level.
“Daddy, when is my Mommy coming home?” Lulu picks up her grilled cheese and takes a bite like her question is no big deal. Maybe she’s playing it down for my sake.
“Um, I don’t know. Why?” I lean in and observe my daughter carefully. She’s good at hiding her feelings.
Lulu sets her sandwich down and wipes her hands on a napkin before answering.
“I don’t know.” She shrugs and sips milk through her straw.
“It’s okay if you miss her.” It hurts to say those words to my little girl. She shouldn’t have to miss her own mother.
She blinks up at me with her big brown eyes. Leeyan’s eyes. “Do you miss my mommy?”
I wonder if she’s waiting to see how I feel before making her final decision. I make a mental note to keep my Leeyan bashing on the down low.
“Sure I do.” I’m not exactly lying. I miss the person she was before things got screwed up. Before I screwed her up.
“Will Sylvie be sad when my mommy comes home?” Lulu looks at her hands.
“Why would you think that?” I stand up and move to the other side of the table.
“I don’t know,” Lulu lies.
I place her in my lap and kiss her head. It’s moments like this I fucking hate Leeyan for leaving. She’ll never know the pain she’s caused our daughter.
“Do you love Sylvie more than my mommy?”
“No.”
Lulu frowns at my reply.
“Me and Sylvie are just friends.”
She’s my best friend. She knows me better than Leeyan ever did, and in ways Giovanni can never know.
“I’m still hungry,” Lulu says and slides off my lap
I move back to my seat and drink my water.
Lulu arranges the carrots on her plate in the shape of an L. She’s moved on. I have too.
Jimmy switched up the sets tonight. We did our military performance to open the show, then ran through all the solos, with Rico closing. Rico returns from the stage and walks into the dressing room with Jimmy.
“We have a packed house with privates booked all night,” Jimmy announces. “Starting with you, lover boy.” He points at Giovanni.
Gio stands with a fake look of shock on his face. Think Miss America. He even does a little wave. Everyone throws something at him; socks, empty water bottles, a shoe.
After Jimmy leaves, Rico walks up to me in full pimp mode.
“I have good news.” He le
ans against my locker, watching me rub shea butter on my legs.
It helps with razor burn. The shit I’ve learned about skin care in the last three months is unbelievable. I could start a blog.
“Oh yeah,” I mutter, half interested. Rico always has some big news or opportunity. He’s a hustler.
“I booked your first date.”
Now he’s got my attention.
“It’s a wedding next weekend.”
When Rico put me in his portfolio, I thought I’d do bachelorette, birthdays, that kind of thing. Not dates. I can’t even do normal dates. I suck at small talk, table manners, romance.
“I don’t know, man. I’ve never even been to a wedding.” I wipe my hands on a towel. “This might be a better gig for Giovanni.”
“Look, you’re just paid to show up in a suit, maybe dance a little.” He does a salsa move. “You only fuck if you want to. But it’s not part of the deal. Fucking is a bonus.”
“It’s prostitution,” I inform him.
He dismisses my comment. “Once the wedding is over, you’re off the clock.” He pulls my body spray from my shelf and sniffs it. “If you decide to go home with her, well, then it’s only prostitution if you make her pay. Otherwise, it’s just fucking.”
It kind of makes sense.
“Have you guys done this before?” I look around the room. Dain and Thor nod. “Gio?”
“Oh yeah.” He smiles. “But I make them pay for this.” He grabs his G-string-covered crotch.
“He’s full of shit,” Rico assures me. “So, do you own a suit?”
“I think I gotta pass.” I shake my head. “After the expense of a new suit and shoes, it won’t be worth the money.”
Rico sighs and sits in the chair next to me. “You’ll spend what, two or three bills on a suit? That’s still a grand in your pocket.”
Wait, what. I eye Rico to see if he’s serious.
“Yeah, your cut is twelve hundred to sit and look pretty,” Rico smirks like he’s hooked me.
“Don’t forget the free meal and open bar,” Thor adds.
“And bridesmaids,” Giovanni throws in. Thor walks by and high-fives him.
“Don’t listen to them.” Rico stands. “You stay with your girl the entire night, no side pussy.”
I do a little mental math. I have six thousand saved, and five of that is going towards Lulu’s initial tuition payment. The other thousand is emergency money. I guess I can dip into it for the suit and shoes.
“I’m good.” I stand up and put the jar of shea butter on the shelf.
“I can always front you the money if you’re short on ends. I’ll just take it out of your cut,” Rico suggests.
Giovanni is adamantly shaking his head behind Rico.
“Nah, I got it,” I tell him and hide my grin
Rico turns around, and Gio drops to the floor and starts doing push-ups.
“I’ll text you the details next week.”
“Thanks, Rico.”
As soon as Rico is gone, Giovanni jumps up and walks over to me. “Don’t ever let him front you cash. A two-hundred-dollar suit will be three-fifty by his math,” Giovanni warns. “Rico’s a good guy, but he’s all about the money.”
I tell Giovanni I get it.
“For real though, do you need money for the suit? ‘Cause you know I got you.” Giovanni pats my back.
“No, I got mine. But thanks for lookin’ out.” I motion towards the bathroom where Rico is pumping blood to his dick.
“Anytime.” Gio takes my hand and pulls me in for a bro hug.
“Get a room,” Thor roars. “I don’t want to see who wins that sword fight.”
I look down and realize we’re both in G-strings.
We break apart and return to our man grooming.
***
My first private of the night is in fifteen minutes. I want to make sure Andre has my music ready.
Percy is on stage when I walk through the main room. The front of the stage is covered in bills. The kid is killin’ it.
I open the door to the sound room, and Andre falls backward into the hall with a half-empty tequila bottle in her hand.
“Duuude!” she laughs. Her pink Mohawk bends against my shin. “Fuck, what time is it?”
I help her up and into a chair. She is in no condition to spin tonight.
“Should I get Jimmy?”
“Fuck him,” she slurs. “He already sent me home and put the club on autopilot.”
I look at the laptop. The playlist is set for the next four hours. “Why don’t you go home?”
As soon as I ask, I know the answer. She’s too fucked up to drive. I run to the bar, grab two bottles of water and a bucket. I return to the booth and set Andre back on the floor. I don’t want to risk her falling out of the chair. I sneak the tequila out of her hand and replace it with a bottle of water.
“Chill here; I’ll take you home later.” I stand to leave, and she grabs my ankle.
“You’re a good man, Sway.”
Yeah, sure.
I run into Dain on my way to the dressing room and tell him about Andre.
“She goes on a bender every now and then. She’s a fucking DJ,” he says as if that’s enough explanation.
“What about the music for the privates?”
Dain walks over to one of the small rooms. Gio calls them the closets. It’s about the size of a bathroom, just large enough to hold a chair and a small table. A dim light dangles from the ceiling. He opens the door, and we hear the music already playing.
“It’s your song,” he teases and points to a switch on the wall. “We have no control over the music. All the rooms will play the same list on a loop. That means you’re on your own for timing.” He closes the door.
I actually rehearsed a little something to three specific songs from the list; without Andre controlling the music, I have to improvise.
“You’ll be alright.” Dain slaps my back. “The chicks aren’t here for your dancing skills.”
We walk in the dressing room to find Jimmy already there. “I was just telling these guys the bad news.”
“We know,” Dain says. “It’s loop night.”
“You’re in the velvet room, Sway.” Jimmy hands me a white roll of fabric. “Here, she wants you to wear these.”
I unravel the underwear and hold them up. The guys start howling at the tighty-whities.
“Seriously?” I moan. I try to be upset, but it’s funny as fuck. “What exactly does she want me to do?”
Jimmy shrugs. “Fuck if I know. She just asked if you could wear them, and I said yes. She’s paying an extra two hundred.” He hands me a hundred and fifty of the initial fee. The house keeps fifty.
I go to the bathroom to slip into the undies. The last time I wore white underwear like this, I was twelve. My dick looks about the same as it did then. I can’t even imagine the kind of woman that would make this request. Actually, I can, and my visual isn’t a good one.
Someone knocks on the door, and I tell them to come in. Gio peeks inside and doubles over in laughter.
“Oh fuck, it’s even worse than I thought.” He points at my package. “Dude, you need to do something about that.”
“Fuck you, let’s see how you look in them.”
“Shit, I bet I can rock the fuck outta those.”
The sad part is, he could. On top of the underwear being totally unflattering, they’re also one size too big.
“What do I do?”
Gio leaves the bathroom and returns with three things. A pump, a rubber band, and a cock ring.
“Here’s the thing.” He winces and looks at the options. “Using another man’s pump and cock ring, kind of a no-no.”
“I one hundred percent agree.”
“That leaves this.” He picks up the rubber band. “Don’t worry; it’s not from a newspaper. I have a bag of these, and I run them through the heat setting in my dishwasher for ten minutes.”
I take the rubber band and examine it
. It’s wide, like the kind you see wrapped around broccoli. “You’re overestimating my manhood.”
“Believe me; it’ll fit.” He leaves the bathroom so I can slip it on.
“Now what,” I yell through the door.
“Jerk off; you jerk off.” Gio pounds the door once then walks away.
I look at the flesh-colored silicone around the base of my limp dick. I have to actually hold it up to keep the band from sliding off. I haven’t jerked off in a while. I know that’s hard to believe, but it’s true. Between stressing about Lulu’s tuition, and Leeyan, and work, I haven’t had any desire to get off. I think that’s a sign that I’m getting old, or worse, impotent.
I rub my hand along my thigh, then grab my cock. I use the shea butter from my leg to get a little friction going as I stroke. I turn on the water to drown out the chatter in the dressing room. It’s slightly better when I close my eyes. I flip through my highlight reel and land on Rachel.
Her pencil skirt and fuck-me eyes.
Yeah, that works.
Rachel spreading her legs, no, on her knees.
I start to swell, and the rubber band tightens. Fuck me if it doesn’t feel like the best shit ever. I stroke it another minute, with images of Rachel sucking the tip of my dick into her mouth. When my balls start to tingle, I stop.
I hurry and put my tighty-whities on and shut off the water. Giovanni is the only one left when I finally come out. I know he has back-to-back privates, so the motherfucker was waiting for me. He drops from the pull bar and looks at my crotch.
“Solid,” he says, pun intended. “Now get your ass in there before your dick falls off.”
Gio doesn’t want me to keep the band on for longer than twenty minutes. I throw on my black velvet sweats and a white t-shirt. Not exactly ideal for the private room, but it’ll have to do for this round.
The staging area is wall-to-wall boobs and heels. I look around for any familiar faces. One in particular. I don’t see her. I’ll probably never see her again, just in my fantasies.
I open the sliding glass door and walk into the velvet room. Sitting on the chaise is Rachel.
My dick tests the limits of the band. I grab my crotch and wince a little. It isn’t a real pain, more of an ache.
Got Mine (Men of Trance Book 1) Page 7
