by Lexie Ray
“We think they look pretty,” Cream said in that slow, smooth way of hers. Her face was covered with a layer of lotion, which was how she maintained her marble-like complexion.
“It’s a shame to keep them hidden away in drawers, ain’t it?” Shimmy added. She plopped down on the floor in front of a chair, wriggling around to get comfortable before pointing a remote at their little TV.
“What’re we watching?” I asked, sitting in the chair and drawing Shimmy back between my knees.
“Independence Day,” she said. “God, Will Smith is hot.”
“If only he’d come into the nightclub,” Cream said dreamily. “The things I would do to him.”
“Free of charge,” Shimmy put in.
“Free of charge,” her roommate agreed.
Both girls shrieked when the object of their affections popped onto the screen.
“Step off, Vivica!” Shimmy hollered at the television. “That boy is mine!”
I couldn’t help but giggle at them as I ran my fingers through Shimmy’s hair. The strands were softer than mine, making my task even easier. I was even able to watch some of the movie as I braided. It’d been forever since I’d seen it.
I finished the hairdo with a flourish of spray.
“All done,” I announced.
Shimmy popped off the floor and checked herself out in the mirror, striking several different poses.
“They’re going to be lining up for you,” Cream observed.
“Anything for the money,” Shimmy declared. “Thanks, Cocoa. If I get the booty I’m expecting tonight, I’ll tip you out for this.”
“Don’t you dare,” I said. “The hairdo is a gift. Enjoy it.”
I left to get ready. It was nearly 5 and I wanted to be sure I was prepared for the meeting.
My uniform was clean and pressed, waiting for me in the closet. I’d helped Mama develop the uniforms years ago. Black was flattering on anyone — and hid any stains that might be accrued throughout the night. The jeweled buttons added just enough pizzazz for us to stand out while still remaining in the background. Even though we girls were the main event at the nightclub, we didn’t want to seem like it.
I swept on my makeup with a practiced ease. The last thing to go on was always red lipstick. For me, that was required. There had been a time when I’d considered asking Mama to make it an official part of the uniform — that’s the effect it had on customers. They hung on my every word if my lips were red. However, I hadn’t wanted to tread on any of the girls’ creative licenses. Blue sometimes went with a satiny blue lipstick to match her eyes.
When I stepped into the hallway, the girls were ready, assembled and waiting for me. I felt a rush of affection toward them. There were many different personalities among us, but we really came together when we had to.
“Is this everybody?” I asked, doing a silent headcount. An even thirty. We were all here.
“Mama asked me to talk to you all about a customer complaint she received,” I continued.
“Ain’t nobody complaining in my bed,” someone called from the back of the group. I waited for the titters to die down.
“I just want to take this opportunity to remind everyone of a few protocols,” I said, trying to be as professional about this as possible. “Please shower between seeing customers. If there’s no time for a shower, at least wash up. Don’t try to fit too many customers in during one night. Lavish your attentions on one or two. They’ll give you as much money as three or four, I promise you.”
I paused after I repeated Mama’s advice to me, letting it sink in for the other girls.
“Make sure you’re doing everything — and I mean everything — to make the customer’s experience one he’ll never forget,” I added. “Get that hook into him, girls, and you’ll have a fan for life. Are there any questions or concerns?”
“Whose cooch is the stinker?” another girl hollered.
“That’s enough,” I said before the laughter could really erupt. “Please keep what I said in mind tonight and going forward. You know Mama won’t tolerate the same complaint twice.”
There were murmurs of agreement. Mama could be a strict taskmaster.
“Let’s have a good night tonight!” I cheered, effectively ending the meeting as the girls took up my cry with whoops of their own.
“I feel like you could lead us into war or something,” Blue remarked, walking downstairs with me. “You’re good at this kind of thing. I’d have just told everyone to wash their stinky bodies.”
I laughed at her, imagining the response the girls would have to that kind of angle. Not good.
“It takes a little bit of tact,” I said.
“I believe it, baby,” Blue said. “You’re going to have a good night tonight, I can tell. That hair is amazing.”
I touched it self-consciously. “Thanks. Yours is awesome, too.”
Blue had scrunched her blonde tresses into soft waves, looking like she was just coming in to work after a day at the beach. The bronzer she’d buffed over her cheeks added to the illusion.
Once we were down in the nightclub, Blue left to make sure the bar was stocked and ready. She wasn’t the only girl who tended bar, but she was the undeniable best. She was one of the girls who could artfully twirl the bottles while making the drinks. This was what got customers’ attention most often.
With all the girls helping, we readied the nightclub in a flurry of activity. This part was always fun, girls trading jokes and good-natured insults across the floor. When the customers flooded in, it was a lot harder to chat, even though we gossiped a bit with the bartenders, of course, and when we had to wait in the kitchen for dishes to come up.
“Showtime!” Mama hollered, the standard cry for when it was time to open the nightclub for customers. The band that we’d hired for the night launched into their set as customers filed in, paired up with the girls who would take care of them for the night. Mama greeted them as they came in. I noticed she was wearing a uniform just like us but with considerably more bling. “MAMA” was spelled out on the back of the blouse in jewels, and a glittering choker sparkled around her throat.
I cocked my head and smiled curiously at the party I was assigned. It was a trio of couples, which was rare indeed.
“Cocoa will take care of everything,” Mama said sweetly, holding her hand out at me. Six pairs of eyes looked at me appraisingly.
“Right this way, please, ladies and gentlemen,” I said grandly, slipping into my “nightclub Cocoa” routine. It was a lot different from how I usually acted. Nightclub Cocoa was flirtatious bordering on scandalous. She encouraged naughty behavior. She was down for anything.
I got the party seated in one of our larger booths. Everyone was dressed up, the girls in micro miniskirts and strips of cloth that barely covered their breasts. I could tell that at least two of the sets of tits in front of me were fake.
“Look at how hot everyone looks tonight,” I said, lavishing special attention on the ladies. If I ignored them, they would probably make snide comments behind my back, prompting their dates to tip less — or dissuading them from doing anything else.
“I like your hair,” one of the girls said.
“Thank you, baby,” I gushed. “Tell me if I’m being too forward. Your boobs are to die for.” I leaned forward and tweaked one through the thin fabric of her tube top, causing all the girls to shriek and giggle.
“Thank you, Cocoa,” the girl said, blushing, and I knew I had endeared myself to them for the rest of the night. I got their drink and food orders and put them in, watching Blue operate.
“What’s the deal with all those dames?” Blue asked, eyeing my ticket before grabbing three beers for the guys. She popped the caps off and wrapped the bottles in napkins.
“Dunno,” I said, shrugging.
“You think they know what we really do here?” she asked, placing three shots of Patron alongside three cosmopolitans.
“They’d have to, I think,” I said, pi
cking up the tray carefully. It’d taken me whole months to master carrying the beverages without spilling them, but now I could do it without a second thought.
“Nasty surprise if they didn’t,” Blue commented, watching me balance the tray before walking across the floor.
The band was a rock band — also a rarity at the nightclub. Mama usually preferred swankier fare, big band and jazz numbers that she felt increased the nightclub’s classiness. She couldn’t deny the popularity of R&B and rap, though, and booked DJs for several nights a week to accommodate that set. I knew the rock band had to be one of her efforts to attract new clientele.
After I delivered the drinks, I stayed to cheer on the girls as they took the shots of Patron.
“I can tell we’re going to have a wild night,” I announced, collecting the empty shooters and setting them back on my tray. “What’s the occasion?”
“We don’t need an occasion to have a wild night,” the girl whose tit I’d touched said.
“I believe it, sweetheart,” I said, batting my eyes at her. “Now, lemme get your tapas so you can put something down on top of that tequila. All of you are so skinny and gorgeous! You probably never eat.”
The giggles told me my suspicions were true. These girls were going to be quick drunks. I could probably sell them even more dishes after they worked through the ones they ordered.
I got drinks for a couple more tables before collecting the dishes from the kitchen. At my recommendation, the couples had ordered the pot stickers, one the nightclub’s most popular tapas. The little dumplings came with a number of sweet and savory sauces to dip them in. I piled on an artful little plate of nachos as well as some bruschetta and minuscule little pulled pork sandwiches. The couples had ordered a wide assortment of goodies from the menu.
They all dug in immediately as soon as I distributed the plates around the table.
“Oh my God, this is amazing,” the girl said.
“Was I right or was I right?” I said coquettishly. “Stick with me, I’m telling you. I’ll make sure everything’s taken care of.”
This last part I directed at the guys, whose eyes couldn’t seem to get unstuck from my cleavage. This bra had been my finest investment, and it was repaying me many times over.
I got absorbed into my routine, which happened often. Fetching drinks, putting in food orders, and flirting with the customers all blended into a driving rhythm. My mind and body melded perfectly, making all the right decisions, saying all the right words. This was a magical time.
When I saw Mama at the table with the couples, I dropped what I was doing and came over. Her presence let me know that bedroom business was being negotiated. I smiled to myself. I’d done well, then, if I could inspire guys with dates to purchase time with me.
“Here she is,” Mama said, her eyes glowing as I sidled up. “You all excuse us for a second while we talk some business.”
I made sure my grin hid my confusion. Talk business? Mama knew me well enough to set the price and tell me to take the client up to the rooms. What was there to talk about with this one?
I followed her into her office and put my hands on my hips.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Is one of the guys into restraints? As long as we have someone right outside the door, I’m fine with it. You know that.”
“This is new, even for you,” Mama said, raising her eyebrow. “You’ve never done a couple, have you?”
I frowned. This was new territory. We had so few female customers, and none of them had ever been interested in purchasing our services. Even in the years I’d been here, I’d never taken a female customer.
“Think you can handle it?” Mama asked.
“I can handle anything,” I said, mostly to hide my feeling of uncertainty. “I have to say, though, that I’m not much of a lesbian.”
“You don’t have to be,” Mama said. “Make sure you pay attention to her even as you’re servicing her date. Think of the things that make you feel good. Do that for her.”
“This’ll be just fine,” I said, waving my hand dismissively, almost to banish my own doubts. “Maybe this is a new clientele that we can look into. Couples. Who knew?”
Mama got her money look and grinned at me. “I like the way you think, sugar,” she said, and I knew the deal was on. “Take them to the big room.”
The big room. I walked back out to the nightclub. The big room was our best one — bedecked in red and used only for our biggest clients. I almost didn’t want to know how much the couple had forked over to share me.
“Who’s the lucky couple?” I asked, getting back to the booth. I knew immediately. It was the same girl and what looked to be her boyfriend. They slid out from the booth, him kissing her on the lips.
“Isn’t she the best ever?” he asked me. “It’s our anniversary.”
“Well, happy anniversary!” I declared. “This is going to be the most memorable one yet!”
“To many more,” she said, her eyes drooping a little drunkenly. She’d probably imbibed so much to work up the courage for the act. I decided to make it easy for her.
I hooked an arm in each of theirs, marching us to set of stairs concealed over by the stage. Many girls eyed me in undisguised awe. This was unprecedented.
We mounted the stairs and I opened the door, adjusting the lights to barely illuminate the bed. It was on a raised platform in the middle of the room.
“I’m going to freshen up in the bathroom real quick,” I said, “but before I go, I need to know your names. I never have anyone without their names.”
“I’m Johnny, and she’s Electra,” the guy said.
“I’m so pleased to meet you,” I said, first kissing Johnny on his lips, then doing the same for Electra. “You all make yourself comfortable, but leave those clothes on. I have plans for them when I get back out here.”
I left the couple seated on the bed before darting into the bathroom. I slipped out of the uniform and my lingerie set before washing up a bit. I grabbed a small bottle of lube from one of the drawers and prepared myself, working it into both holes as quickly and thoroughly as possible. Better to be safe than sorry, I’d learned early on. I retouched my makeup, patted my braids, and put the lingerie back on. It was a deep plum color, very sultry and playing well off the shade of my skin.
I opened the bathroom door and laughed. Johnny and Electra were kissing and petting each other heavily, rolling around in the bed.
“You all better save some for me,” I said, walking over and letting them ogle my nearly naked body.
“You’re fucking hot,” Electra blurted out, her carefully straightened hair mussed.
I smiled at her and held my hand out, pulling her from the bed.
“Look at this beautiful woman,” I told Johnny, who propped himself up on one elbow on the bed. I twirled Electra around, touching her in every spot, running my hands over her breasts, tiny waist; the swell of her ass was barely covered by the sheer fabric of her skirt.
I worked the top off first, hefting Electra’s breasts while smoothing her hair. She wasn’t wearing a bra — doing so would be impossible with how small the top was. Her breasts were large, the only pair in the group that was natural.
“These are the most luscious tits I’ve ever laid eyes on,” I said, wondering if it was just a matter of time before she elected for surgery, like her friends. I brushed my thumbs over her pink nipples, watching her for a reaction. You either liked it or you didn’t, and the way her face colored showed me that she did.
“See, babe?” Johnny said from the bed. “I keep telling you that you don’t need implants.”
“Johnny!” Electra huffed, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.
“Ah-ah,” I chided, slipping my hands beneath her arms to gently squeeze her tits. “There’s no hiding in here. We’re all beautiful, and we’re all friends.”
With some more cajoling, Electra loosened up again. I slipped the micro miniskirt down to her ankles, kneeling a
nd removing it, along with her painful-looking stilettos. Her pussy was shaved bare, a tiny tattoo of a heart inked on the bikini line.
“I love a girl who takes care of herself,” I said, running my hands up her smooth legs. I planted a soft kiss on her pubic mound, listening to her happy sigh.
I stood up again and led a naked, aroused Electra back to the bed.
“You’re up, Johnny,” I said, holding my hand out for him.
I undressed him for her, giving Electra the same show I’d given Johnny. He was heavily tattooed but fit, absorbing my kisses, caresses, and compliments just as his girlfriend had. I stroked his cock, not needing to do much. He’d been hard from the moment we started climbing up the stairs to come up here, I’d noticed.
