The Beginning

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The Beginning Page 4

by Lenox Hills


  “Yes Miss, I know several.” However, he makes a U-Turn. I wonder where he was taking me originally, probably a place that Jonathan eats at often. I am glad I said something. After my sushi lunch, I bring Marcus a California roll and a bottle of water back to car, he looks surprised but appreciative, and I have him take me to the club. It’s 5 o’clock and I start at seven. It gives me plenty of time to have Samson make me pretty again.

  When Marcus pulls up to the club the doorman opens the door of the SUV for me, I thank Marcus and go into the club. I say hi to the cashier and she waves without looking up from her intouch magazine. Down I go into the club and I head over to the manager. There he is, in the same spot, still sitting on a bar stool, with a Starbucks and reading the paper.

  “Well if it isn’t the new girl Lenox. How are you? Back for more I see, and you’ve done some shopping I’d guess by all the bags,” as he gestures to my packages.

  “Yes, back again and I did do a little damage.”

  “Good thinking. While you are here let me tell you about table dances and the champagne room. Table dances are twenty bucks, no touching, you keep half and we get half. You have to ask the men in here for a table dance, they rarely ask you. Some girls really hustle for them; you need to figure out your approach. When the guy says yes, you call over one of the security men, the guy pays him, and they will make change if needed, but hand you a ten and keep a ten for the club. Any money the guy gives you after that is all yours. When you dance it’s one song, no touching him and him no touching you. If a guy touches you and we don’t catch it, stop and wave for us and we will come over and remind him of the rules.” Easy enough, I thought and I like the no touching part.

  “Now the champagne room is different. A man will request your presence in the room and the champagne manager will come and tell you. He will tell you what the guys wants you to do and you can agree, or not, if you agree the manager will make sure you get paid for each hour you are in there. Any tips you make inside are yours, and as they say ‘what happens in the champagne room stays in the champagne room’ is true and that’s all I have to say. When you are wanted I will let the manager fill you in more. The most important thing you need to know is that you can refuse to go, and you can leave when you want and for any reason. I don’t pressure my girls here. Got it?”

  “Got it” I told him.

  “Good, have a great shift,” and went back to his paper and coffee.

  When I got into the locker room, I started to unpack my new things, and found the lock I bought. I chose a locker and started to hang things up, then the door flew open and ghetto Dorothy came in. Today she was wearing a long straight red wig, a red patent leather looking dress with red boots up to her thighs. She had bright red shiny lips and long red fingernails. I wondered to myself if her bush was red today.

  “Hi.” I ventured.

  “Back again I see, well we must not have scared you away yet.” Nevertheless, she smiled a warm smile that I took to be endearing.

  “What’s your name?” I asked, “I mean your real name?” I wasn’t sure if she would tell me.

  After a beat she did, “Well my stage name is Shaniqua, white guys love the idea of messing with some girl from the ghetto. I was born Elaine though, and I am from Lakeshore Drive in Chicago, far from the ghetto.”

  “Hi Elaine, I’m Lenox but really Katherine. Nice to meet you,” and I put out my hand.

  She shook it and then started to change her clothes. “Do you know where Samson is, “ I added.

  “He went out for a sandwich” came from the bathroom stall. Forgot about her.

  “Thanks” I yelled back.

  Samson showed up a little bit later and I showed him all my new purchases. He loved everything I bought and it made me more confident about my choices. He went to work on my hair and make-up making me look amazing yet again. Since I wanted to wear my new blue outfit, he gave me soft shiny nude lips, and heavy dark blue sparkly eyes. He teased the top of my hair into a poof, pulled the sides back, and clipped it in the back with a blue-jeweled clip. I loved my look. I put on my new black shoes, and could tell immediately that I made a good choice. I found my new midnight blue bikini bottoms and matching bra. It fit like a dream. I decided to go with a long, black see thru lace dress with a slit all the way up to each thigh, and two thin spaghetti straps over the shoulder.

  I found the dark blue crystal sapphire chandelier earrings, put them in, stood back, and looked at myself in the full-length mirror. I hope Jonathan likes it. I hope he comes in tonight. I hope last night wasn’t a one time thing. I hope, well, I just hope.

  “Girl, you are killing it tonight!” Samson proclaimed, “Killing it!”, he gave me a spritz of fragrance as I left the locker room.

  At 6:50, I was back over to the manager. I could tell he liked my new outfit. The odd thing was that he never came off as if he was leering at you; it was a gentle kind of pride and protection he projected, it was comforting. I went on next and this time, only my second on stage, already felt easier than my first. Knowing that Jonathan thought I was beautiful gave me a confidence to stand out there and dance for these men. I didn’t notice the song the DJ played for me, I was too busy taking dollars and craning my head at the door looking for Jonathan to walk in.

  I had no idea if he was coming, he said nothing in the note about seeing me again, but I hoped. I wished. I prayed. What kind of hold does this man have over me so soon? I never thought if I did meet someone here in the city that it would be like this, or like him. Could he really have a billion dollars? He said he sold his company, so when they bought it did he get a check? How long do they hold a check that large at the bank? Money like this is so out of my realm. My financial dream had always been just to have a credit card I could use to take one great trip on a year, and then pay it off before the next one.

  Songs play; I volunteer to dance for the DJ so other girls can stay with their customers. This pleases him to keep his stage alive, and since I do not want to sit with another man, or ask for table dances, it works for me. The real reason though is that I have the best view of who comes in and out being elevated on the stage. It gives me free reign to look all around the room. It is the longest night of my life; songs that are minutes meld together into an hour, then two, and then three. My heart is in my stomach saddened by Jonathan’s absence. I am crushed.

  I have put on a brave face and I think everyone just assumes I am still getting my bearings and leaves me alone. A little after ten the champagne manager comes to find me as I walk off stage.

  “Hey Sexy Lenox, I have a proposition for you.”

  I must look alarmed because he laughs and says, “No not like that. Unless?” and he lets it hang on the air for moment. I frown and cross my arms. “Ok, just kidding. Listen I have a guy in the champagne room that has requested you. He only wants to talk and drink some champers. No funny business. Interested?”

  The champagne room! I can’t go in there! If I do and Jonathan comes in looking for me and I am not here he might leave! If he finds out I am in there with another guy he’ll think I don’t like him! Fuck what am I going to do.

  “I think I can talk him into a hundred dollars an hour for you.”

  Ok, I tell myself Jonathan is not here, I can’t mope all night, and I am here to make money. Maybe it will distract me and pass the time.

  “All right,” I squeak out.

  “Great” the manager says and walks me over to the three little steps that lead to heavy velvet curtains.

  “Let me tell you how this works. You walk in and behind the curtains you will see on the floor light up arrows, like emergency aisle markers they have on airplanes. Follow the line and go to the number two. All the cubbies are numbered 1-10. Do NOT go into another numbered room ever. Ok? At the two feel for the curtains and walk in, and that’s it. I pay you when you come out.” He looked at me to see if there were any questions, I didn’t have any.

  “Ok, up and at em” he told me, and I walked up an
d into the abyss.

  I entered the champagne room and once the heavy curtains closed behind me, it was pitch black. It took a moment to get my bearings and adjust my eyes to the lack of light. As I stood there, I noticed at once how silent it was. I wondered if other people were actually in here, but they had to be, I had seen girls go in and out all night. It was just so still. As my eyes adjusted, I suddenly noticed the glowing lights on the floor. Just like little arrows on a plane. I followed the line and went passed a large number one and stopped on the large number two. I felt in front of me for the curtains and pulled them apart to step inside. I only took two steps in, as I was unaware of how much room I had, or what this looked liked. After a beat I said, “Um, hi, I’m Lenox. You asked for me.”

  Suddenly a soft light slowly illuminated the little cubicle and Jonathan’s frame and face came into view. I gasped, loudly and deeply and smile a big smile. He was more joltingly sexy than I remembered from the night before. He was sitting on a black leather banquette, with each arm draped on the back. His left leg was crossed with his ankle resting on his right knee. He looked elegantly casual in all black and dark grey. Soft black loafers on his feet, with no socks. There is something sexy about seeing those few inches between his leg and the top of his shoe that is so mysterious, just a little bit of skin and hair. I want to reach out, touch it, and rub his leg back and forth. Then came nice dark black sleek jeans. He had on a dark grey button down shirt that looked like liquid silk, un-tucked and open at then neck, and a black jacket that fell open in the way was he was sitting back. In this position, you could see the big platinum Rolex on his left wrist that poked out from his jacket sleeve. Oh my this man, less than twenty four hours ago had his head, his lips, that tongue between my legs giving me the most pleasurable sexual experience I have ever had. Just thinking about it made my legs weak. The entire time I am standing in front of him, I can feel him staring at me, drinking me in, and although he does not move his head, I can feel his eyes skim up and down my body. His gaze makes my toes tingle and my bikinis moist.

  I quickly wonder if he likes what I am wearing, he did pay for it after all. I chose everything with him in mind, never knowing if I would see him again. I wanted to please him, to turn him on, and to subconsciously bring him back in here to me. Neither one of us have said a word since the lights came up. I want to ask him if he is here for me and why he was sorry. Suddenly the way his note made me feel this morning comes back to me. It confused me. I thought he liked me and then he apologizes. I don’t know what to say. I decide to wait for him to speak. He doesn’t take long.

  “Lenox, hello.” His voice is molten lava and smooth, and he says my name as if he is reciting his favorite poem.

  “Hello Jonathan.” I am cool, calm, collected…and turned on. Shit.

  “How are you this evening?” he asks.

  “Good, I’m good, yeah good.” I answer rocking back and forth a bit in my new shoes. I am a dorky third grader with a crush on a fifth grader. “You?” I add.

  “I am doing very well thank you for asking.” He holds my eyes with his and has not moved a muscle since I walked in. He isn’t going to give me anything to go on. So I decide to proceed with business.

  “Well, I don’t know how this works, I have never been in here before. Do you want me to start dancing for you or “ and I just let it hang in the air. I vow to not say a word until he tells me what to do. He waits two long beats and replies.

  “Of course, forgive me, please sit down.” With this, he smiles, moves over a bit on the banquette, says “Here,” and points to the place next to him. Relieved, I sit down.

  I am careful not to touch him or his leg as I sit. I perch on the end of the bench, keep my knees together, and rest the palms of my hands on them. This man makes me so nervous and excited. I don’t speak. I just wait. I can feel him looking at my profile, and the side of my neck. I am so focused on looking ahead into blackness that I don’t notice him take his left arm from the back of the banquette and place it on my lower back. My stomach does a flip and I stiffened at the same time.

  “Shall we order some champagne then? Let’s christen the room for you,” he offers.

  With that he reaches over to the right cubby wall and I see him flip a switch, a blue light comes on above it. Right next to is a dimmer dial; it must be how he made the light come up when I walked in.

  In a moment the champagne room manager comes over and peeks through the curtain. “Everyone decent?” and he chuckles a fake laugh.

  Jonathan looks un-amused and says, “We’d like a bottle of the Perrier-Jouet Rose Belle Epoque 2004 please. Thank you.” He turns to me in a quick after thought, “If that’s alright with you Lenox?”

  “Sounds lovely,” I answer, reminded of what happened the last time we had champagne together. I smile to myself with the memory. The champagne manager leaves us. I decide to make small talk.

  “So, um, have you been in here all night?” I don’t want him to know that I was looking for him.

  “No, I just got here. I had a business dinner meeting.” His hand has not left my lower back.

  “Oh, ok. I don’t think I saw you come in.” Shit. I don’t want him thinking I was looking for him.

  That right corner of his mouth curls up, and he knows I was. Crap.

  “I came in the back door.”

  “Back door?”

  “Yeah, they have a back door entrance from the alley that comes straight in here. Some people don’t want to be seen walking through the club and into this room.”

  “How do they get a girl then?” There is so much I don’t know about this place.

  “Look up here,” and he points to the ceiling. Right over the curtain line, you can see monitors that show the stage and various spots around the club. “When you see one you want, you flip this switch on the wall here, the champagne manager comes in and you just tell him who you like. He goes and get’s her, and then you wait.” I wonder how many times he has been back here, and with whom. I don’t know any of the other girls yet, but I am jealous already of his attentions towards them, past, present and future.

  Just then, the manager arrives with the champagne in a bucket, two flutes, and a stand for it all. “Shall I open?” he offers.

  “No.” Jonathan answers and reaches for the bottle. Before he pulls it out of the ice, he looks up at manager, who quietly retreats into the darkness. “That guys a creep.” He says to himself. Jonathan pops the cork perfectly, pours two flutes full, and hands me one. I take it and as I am still perched on the edge of the bench, keep one hand on my knee and hold my flute with the other. This is awkward, I don’t know what to say, I can’t take it and decide to ask about the note. I turn to my right to say something and Jonathan’s face is right there next to mine. As I was about to speak, my mouth is open a little, and he puts his lips right in front of mine, barely touching them and says, “You are so beautiful.” He kisses me. He holds his lips on mine for a moment, but not using his tongue, he pulls back to suck on my bottom lip for a second and then pulls away, and back to his place on the banquette. I am an ice cream cone on a hot summer sidewalk.

  “Sorry,” he says. Why does he keep apologizing to me?

  “It’s ok. I liked it.” He exhales, relieved. It occurs to me that it is possible that he has no idea know what he does to me, the flaming desire he ignites in my core. Like how last night made me feel, or how he made me feel when I saw him again, or how I want him to do it all again. I decide to be bold and show him.

  I put down my flute on the small ottoman against the left cubby wall. In a swift move I stand up, pivot to the front of him, and pick up his left crossed leg at the ankle. I gently put it down on the floor. I then step in between his legs and look down at him, towering in my new heels and he is staring up at me with his cerulean eyes wide and waiting. I lean in and grab the backrest with my left hand, right behind his shoulder, I pull up my left leg next to his right thigh and with my right hand I grab my new long dress and pull
the side up to the top of my thigh. I see his eyes flash down to between my legs. With my hem up, I am able to put my right leg next to his left thigh and straddle him on the banquette. I don’t sit fully down on his lap, but hold myself up on my knees and shins. I place both hands behind his head on the backrest and lean in to kiss him. Right before my lips met his, he swiftly takes both of his hands, scoops them around my waist, and holds my hips. His move was fast and takes another breath of mine away. He scoots to the end of bench, moves his hands to the middle of my back, pulls me towards him and onto his lap fully. I can feel his hard pleasure through his jeans. I looked deeply into his eyes, dancing with excitement, and he leans forward, dipping me. I am parallel to the floor and suspended solely by his hands. They are strong and firm on my back, and I felt safely supported.

  “Lay your head back” he tells me and I did as he says.

  Holding me up he leans his head down between my breasts and starts to softly kiss me up my sternum, when he gets to my neck he works up my throat and then over to just below my left ear. Stopping here, he kisses, licks, and sensually sucks on me. It makes me lightheaded, Jonathan makes me weightless and floating as he suspends me. I let my head fall back and his mouth crossed from my left to my right side; there he continues his pleasant oral assault. “aaaahhhhh” comes up my throat and out of my mouth. With his lips on my jaw, I can feel him smiling with my enjoyment.

  His firm grasp with left fingers spread on my back holding me tightly, while he takes his right hand and moves it from my lower back to behind my head and he pushes it back up making us face to face. Holding my gaze, I smile at him, and he asks, “ So what kind of move was that supposed to be? A lap dance?”

 

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