“I’ll call the car,” the shortest one says.
The bartender hands one of the others a stack of cocktail napkins and a bottle of water. This must not be his first night. They drag her out the door without a word to me.
The bartender hands me a stack of napkins as well. “Life comes at you fast, man. Better luck next time.”
What a weird damn night. I wipe the chunks off my pants and shoes, trying not to puke myself. I pull the card out of my pocket and text Javier to come get me. I had titties in my mouth less than ten minutes ago and now I just want to shower and put these clothes in a trash bag. This is some bullshit.
I walk back downstairs and through the club to the exit. Javier is already out front. He’s good. He jogs around to let me in the back door. He gets in the driver’s seat and pulls into traffic.
“Your evening ended early, sir. I can smell why.”
I roll down my window. The smell is too much and I don’t want to boot it in this car. Stephanie would seriously chop off my balls. “It’s not mine, if it’s any consolation.”
“I didn’t assume it was, sir. Tough break.”
We don’t talk again the rest of the way home. I thank him for driving and start pulling off my tie as soon as I’m out of the car. I put all the clothes into a trash bag and put that bag inside another bag. Mr. T won’t come near me. I scrub everything twice in the shower. I better get paid for this still.
I don’t even want to talk to anyone tonight, so I decide to call Stephanie in the morning.
***
My phone ringing wakes me up from a dead sleep. I fumble around on my nightstand to find it. The phone screen is dark when I pick it up, but I still hear ringing.
“What the…?” Then it hits me. It’s the other phone. I tear open both trash bags and dry heave at the smell. The phone doesn’t show any caller ID, but I doubt it’s Javier.
“Hello?” My voice is hoarse from screaming over the music.
“Good morning, Benjamin. I’m glad you’re awake.”
Stephanie. Of course.
I rub my eyes as I walk to my nightstand and check the clock. “I wasn’t awake. Good God, it’s 5:30 in the morning, Stephanie! Why are you calling this early?”
“You can’t make money if you sleep the day away, Benjamin. I’ve received very positive responses regarding your performance last night, Benjamin. Would you be amenable to attending another party tomorrow night? The compensation would be the same.”
I can’t even process words like “amenable” at 5:30 in the fucking morning. “Is it the same thing as last night?” I yawn through the last two words and I know she’s annoyed as hell.
“Yes, Benjamin. This will be a much larger party, but your duties will be the same—ensure the guests have a good time.”
Last night was crazy, but making two grand in a few days would be a huge help. I don’t want to sound too eager, though. She doesn’t need to know she has me by the balls. “I’ll do it, but I have some questions first.”
She huffs. “Benjamin, I’m a very busy woman. If I toss in another $500.00, will you forget the questions?”
She knows she has me by the balls and I suddenly don’t care as much. “No questions. Got it.”
“Good. I need you in my office in an hour, Benjamin, to discuss the details.”
An hour? What the fuck? I look at the suit fermenting inside the two bags. “About that. I need to take the suit to have it dry cleaned.” And maybe burned.
She huffs again. “Benjamin, I have a preferred dry cleaner and I don’t want anyone but him laundering the clothing. Be here in an hour.”
I’m going to have to tell her. I’ll miss my balls. “See, the thing is…”
She cuts me off. “I know about the vomit, Benjamin. You have fifty minutes now to get here. I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
She hangs up. I wonder who told her about Juliana puking on me. I guess there were enough of her employees there that anyone could’ve told her. Hell, they probably all did.
I throw some water on my face and put on some clothes. Driving in the van isn’t as smooth of a ride as the chauffeured car last night. I wonder if I’ll see Javier again tomorrow, or if it will be someone different. I won’t know because I agreed not to ask questions like an idiot.
I can’t stop wondering about one thing. Pulling out the business cards with my name, I dial the number on my phone. It rings once.
“Benjamin, you have fifteen minutes to get here. I hope you’re not still at home.”
Stephanie. I feel stupid for being surprised.
“Benjamin? Hello? Are you almost here?”
“Uh, yes. I’ll be there in five.” For some reason, I feel like a little kid who got caught doing something bad.
“Good.” She hangs up. Not much for pleasantries, that one.
The building is locked because no one in their right mind is at work this early. Stephanie lets me in and then opens her office suite for me. She doesn’t say a word until she sits behind her desk. She opens a drawer and pulls out an envelope.
“Thank you for your assistance last night, Benjamin.” She pushes the envelope across the desk to me. “Here is your payment. Please count it to verify.”
I pick up the envelope. “Oh, I trust you.”
She has no expression. She looks crazier than normal. “This is business, Benjamin. Count it.”
I open the envelope and count the ten hundred dollar bills. “Yep, it’s all there.” Psycho.
“Good.” She looks back to her computer monitor. “Your driver will arrive at 8:30 p.m. tomorrow. The routine will be the same. Put on the clothing you are given and only take the items provided to you.” She looks at the trash bag I dumped on her floor. “I trust my phone and the other items are in the bag?”
I nod. “They are.”
“That will be all then. Good day, Benjamin.”
I guess we’re done here.
CHAPTER 6
DUELING DICKS
MIRYAM
“Can I at least cover my nipples?” I knew letting Sheba pick my outfit for the bachelorette party was a bad idea, but I didn’t listen to myself.
“Only a tiny bit!” she calls from my bathroom. “This is one of the last times your boobs will be out and single. They need to see the world.”
Looking in my bedroom mirror, I poke at the cleavage bubbling up from this bustier. “My boobs are perfectly happy settling down with David!” I’ll need to wear this for him soon. They really do look phenomenal trussed up in this micro top. I have to give credit where credit is due, and Sheba knows her way around slutty clothes.
She’s wearing a similar bustier and the barest suggestion of a skirt. She knows me well enough to know I would never agree to that kind of skirt, so she picked out shiny cigarette pants for me. They’re excessively tight, but at least my knish isn’t hanging out.
She walks out of my bathroom with a makeup brush in hand. “Your boobs aren’t settling down for almost three more months.” She points to them with the brush. “We’re having this party early because this is the only weekend that fits into everyone’s schedule. Don’t go locking them up yet. People deserve to see your fantastic rack.”
I look in the mirror again. “They do look great.”
She walks behind me and leans her head on my shoulder. “Hell yeah, they do. Do you know how many women would kill to have the bazoombas you’ve been blessed with?”
My doorbell rings, thus ending the bazoombas discussion. Like a tightrope walker, I wend my way through the boxes in the hall. I still haven’t made much more progress on packing. At this rate, I might not even be moved in before the wedding. Maybe the new owners will let me live here with them.
I don’t even look through the peephole because I can hear the chattering before I get to the door. Eva, Sarai, and Lilith stand on the other side. The best days are when I have all these ladies together. They are my people.
“Let’s party, bitches!” Lilith has been drinking.
Her normal exuberant personality is at least a nine out of ten at all times. After a few drinks, it’s at least a fifteen out of ten.
Individual hugs turn into a group hug. Why does a wedding always seem a little like a funeral for friends? I’ve experienced it with other friends whom I barely see anymore. I don’t want to think about that, though. Tonight is about having fun and hoping Sheba doesn’t have anything life-threatening planned.
“Girl, your rack is on point!” Eva pokes at my cleavage. “You should never wear a different top. This outfit is what you wear now. All the time. Just this.”
Sheba dances out of the bedroom. “I told her. Her single boobs need to go out with a bang!” Her dancing takes her to my kitchen. “Who wants Jell-O shots?” She returns with a tray of filled plastic cups.
I haven’t had Jell-O shots since undergrad. I want to turn them down, but Sheba put a lot of planning into this and I don’t want to be a wet blanket. Everyone takes one and Sheba hands me two. I swallow them both and it brings back fuzzy memories of pool parties.
Sheba sets the tray on the coffee table. “Time to get dicked!”
I wish I didn’t already know what that means.
She picks up the gift bag next to the table. Pulling out the dick whistles on a string, she drapes them around each of our necks like we’ve just won some kind of award. A penis award. I get a tiara that says “Bride to Be” in pink rhinestones. Ring pops come out of the bag next. Those, too, have penises on them. We each get one. The red candy penis stands in stark contrast to the diamond on my left hand.
Next, she drapes a sash across one of my shoulders that also declares I am betrothed. She steps back and looks at it. Sheba shakes her head. “No, that covers your rack. The sash goes.” She pulls it over my head and fluffs my hair again. “Much better.”
I notice the last of the Jell-O shots have mysteriously disappeared. We are so going to end up in jail tonight.
Sheba looks in the bottom of the bag. “Oh! I almost forgot the best part. I’ll be right back. Push all the furniture against one wall and clear some space.”
I don’t know what’s about to happen, but I know my homeowner’s insurance isn’t going to cover it. Sarai and Lilith raid my liquor cabinet and bring back a bottle of tequila and shot glasses. Scratch jail, we’ll be in the hospital by midnight. Sarai pours shots on the coffee table we’ve pushed against the wall.
She hands one to each of us and holds hers up. “To Miryam nailing down that hot as fuck piece of man meat!”
A shrill “Woo!” war cry goes up in the air. David is hot as fuck and I will drink to that.
Sheba trots back in the living room and puts one hand on her hip with her legs spread wide. She’s wearing a massive inflatable pink strap-on penis and holds a second in her hand. “Dueling dicks, bitches. To the winner goes the spoils.” Her smile tells me she’s so proud of herself.
She tosses the extra one at me and I catch it with my left hand. It’s like a pool float gone wrong. I took a semester of fencing for an athletics’ credit, but those skills didn’t prepare me for this. I hand my shot glass to Eva and step into the harness. The phallus extends a few inches beyond my arm’s reach. My insurance policy definitely doesn’t cover this.
Sheba turns to the side and hits my pink dick with hers.
Lilith grabs her clutch off the couch. “I’m putting money on this. I’ve got twenty on Sheba.”
“Twenty on Miryam!” Eva shouts as she pours another shot.
“I’ve got twenty on the TV getting smashed.” Sarai takes the shot glass out of Eva’s hand and downs it.
I thrust my hips and jab at Sheba. She dodges it. She whacks me from the side again. While she’s turned, I jump and knock her penis from the top, catching her off balance. She lunges and bumps my penis. I twist and hit hers as hard as I can. I decide the best offense is to become a whirling dervish and not stop attacking. It works and Sheba has to back up. I keep spinning through the dizziness. Those two shots are kicking in. I already hate myself for how much I’m going to drink tonight. Everything is one big blur. I slow down because I want to win, but I’m not stupid. I don’t need to puke this early. While I have Sheba on defense, I lunge at her one more time. She jumps out of the way to dodge me and her arm catches the TV on the media table. The flat screen falls in slow motion and lands face down on the hard tile floor.
“Pay up, bitches.” Sarai swallows another shot.
***
Sheba reserved us a table at a new club. It looks almost the same as the last club that occupied this space. It’s loud and it’s dark and there’s a waterfall in the corner for some reason. Our waitress shows up with a bottle of Patron and glasses. Sheba clearly ordered bottle service and wants us to die. She pours a round of shots and screams a toast none of us can hear. I’ll drink to it anyway. She points to the dance floor, which requires no words. We follow her and enter the crowd.
I wish I had a better appreciation for club music because it all sounds the same to me. I just try to follow the beat. The men are predictable any time a group of women dance together. They surround us, wanting to turn this into an orgy, but we’re in an estrogen-only bubble tonight and not looking to change that. After half an hour, I need water. Badly.
I slide into the crowd around the main bar. I’m not proud of it, but I stick my chest out to get faster service. It works like usual. I take my glass and leave a tip in the jar. I’ve almost pushed my way out of the crowd when I run into solid muscle. I feel cold liquid go down the front of my bustier at the same time.
I look up to see a man with sandy blond hair and a face that probably drops a lot of panties for him mouthing a curse word. He might have said it out loud, but I can’t hear a damn thing in here. Judging from his empty tumbler, he just spilled his drink all over me. I try to go around him so I can get to a bathroom to clean this up, but he starts wiping at my cleavage with the cocktail napkin in his hand. The force of his wipes make my boobs bounce up and down.
I don’t even think about it. My body reacts on instinct. I punch him in his face and scream a litany of curse words I’m sure he can’t hear. He backs up and holds his face. He looks shocked, but if he goes around groping strangers, this can’t be the first time he’s been decked.
I run toward the bathroom while he’s stunned. It’s not until I get into the quiet hallway that I realize he’s followed me. Pervert. The hallway is lined with women waiting for the bathroom, so at least I’m not alone with him.
I stare him down, daring him to say something. He dares.
“I’m so sorry. It was crowded and I bumped into you.” He’s got a red mark on his cheek from my punch. Good.
“That doesn’t give you the right to grope people, asshole!” All the women in line turn to look at us.
He holds his hands up. “I was just trying to help!”
“Trying to help yourself, pervert! I hope you enjoyed touching my boobs because that’s the last time it will happen. I should have you thrown out.”
Several of the ladies in line flank me. “You like touching women without their consent, dickface?” one of them asks.
The pervert backs up a little. “I don’t have a dick face and that’s not what happened. I spilled my drink and I was trying to fix it. I wasn’t thinking. Can I buy you a drink to make it up to you?”
“You think a drink is going to make up for thousands of years of male oppression?” The woman closest to me is fired up. I only wanted to get away from him; I didn’t mean to incite a feminist riot.
He rubs his face. “I didn’t mean… Look, can I talk to you alone?”
This guy must be crazy. “I’m not going anywhere alone with you. I don’t know you.”
“Yeah, she’s not going anywhere with you. Get the fuck out!” My closest defender takes the water out of my hand and throws it on the man.
I really wanted to drink that.
He jumps back, stunned. “There has to be an easier way to make money,” he mutters. He backs out of the h
allway, keeping his eyes on me the whole time. A face and body like that are such a waste on a predator. I’m wondering if this is why Sheba gave me a dick whistle.
The woman whom I’m a little scared of puts her arm around my shoulder. “We got you, girl.”
“Thank you.” I smile at her.
I clean myself up in the sink and go back out to find our waitress. I’m not going back to the bar again. I hope that creep left, but I’m sure there’re more like him lurking. My friends are at our table and I see they’ve ordered a round of waters already. I chug mine.
“Where were you?” Sheba screams in my ear.
“Bathroom,” I respond. I’ll tell her about the jerk when I don’t have to yell over music.
She nods and puts another shot in front of me. I drink it, relishing the warmth. I almost forget my top is still damp. It’s time to dance again. As much as I fought her on a bachelorette party, Sheba did it right. Dueling dicks aside, this is a night to forget about work and weddings and just focus on hanging out with my best girlfriends. I hope it won’t be long after the wedding that we do this again.
As predicted, Lilith is three sheets to the wind before everyone else. We drag her outside for some street tacos and water. I’ve seen her worse, so I know she’s going to rebound.
The sun is almost up when I crawl into bed. As much as I try not to, I dream of sandy blonde hair and muscles.
CHAPTER 7
LEATHER PANTS
BEN
I like plants. Plants are easy. Plants don’t want anything other than the basic necessities from you. They don’t care what you look like. They don’t need a label for your relationship. They don’t want to change you. They don’t form angry riots and throw drinks in your face. They sit silently and produce oxygen. Plants are better than people.
I can’t stop thinking about that bitch last night. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something about her that just rubs me the wrong way. And the right way. Her tits were so soft and firm at the same time. They were real for sure. I’d never seen tits that perfect. My dick would slide between them like a hot knife through butter. I would give her a pearl necklace when I was done. And her ass when she was walking away? Damn. It hypnotized me like a lava lamp. I could watch those cheeks bounce all day.
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