Play Date (2 page)

“If I looked like you, I wouldn’t think twice
about doing this,” said Jean.

“If Jean and I can do it, you can do too,”
said Audrey to Lena.

“Christ,” said a resigned Lena.

“Alright, ready?” Jean said to Audrey, taking
a breath, “Let’s go.”

Jean and Audrey opened the door to main room
and walked out. Lena stayed behind, getting her courage up.

Suddenly, from behind her, she heard a
wolf-whistle.

“Whaaa?” Lena said as she whipped her head
around to face Danielle.

“Look at you, girlfriend!” said Danielle.
“You clean up good.”

Lena looked back at her petite friend, also
fully costumed and in her heels. Danielle's back curved sharply
outwards, giving her ass the look of a ledge. Lena had figured all
along that Danielle would look perfect in her outfit, but she
didn’t figure she’d look this perfect. “I almost didn’t recognize
you,” said Lena.

“No, I suppose not, girlfriend. I don’t
usually run around virtually naked while wearing seven inch
heels.”

“Well, maybe you should,” said Lena.

“All right there, down girl. I don’t want to
have to get a restraining order on you.”

“Sorry,” smiled Lena.

“Come on,” said Danielle, grabbing Lena’s
hand and pulling her through the doorway.

“Hold on, not so fast,” said Lena. “I can’t
walk very well.”

“Take it slow then,” said Danielle. “Believe
me, being hobbled by too high of heels won’t hurt your tips.”

Danielle and Lena stepped out into the main
room, now converted to a suburban gaming floor filled with roulette
and blackjack tables. There was a bar at the front of the room. The
guests hadn’t arrived yet but the volunteers were milling around.
As Lena and Danielle entered the room the volunteers, both men and
women, stopped and stared. A few of the men started applauding. “We
know who’s going to be getting most of the tips tonight!” someone
yelled. A horrified Lena turned to go back through the door just as
Meg called out for everyone to gather around for a meeting.

Meg went through the basics (return all
received cash immediately to the bar cash register and the highest
bet was two hundred dollars). Lena noticed the male volunteers
checking her out and doing a poor job of being subtle. Since it had
been so long since she had been leered at, she naturally assumed
that their gaze was directed at Danielle. But Danielle had moved
several feet away and was talking on her phone, presumably to one
of her boy-toys. These men were looking at Lena.

“…and remember, have fun and let’s make some
money for a good cause,” concluded Meg.

“What did I miss?” said Danielle, phone in
her hand.

“The highest bet that people can make is two
hundred dollars and make sure that any and all cash gets back to
the register immediately,” said Lena.

It was a half-hour into the evening that Lena
felt her first ass pinch. As the alcohol kicked-in, the patron's
inhibitions started falling away. “Excuse me!” Lena said as she
twisted around with her round drink tray balanced on her palm.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t resist,” said the
middle-aged man, sitting next to his wife.

“I apologize for my husband,” said his wife.
“He’s a pig.”

“That’s all right,” said Lena, cooling off,
walking back up to the bar with her drink orders.

“Is that you, Lena?” said the bartender, Tom
Davis, her neighbor from two doors down.

“It’s me,” she said handing him some cash and
credit card receipts.

“You’re looking great,” said Tom.

“Thanks,” Lena smiled.

“And who’s the other cute one?” said Tom,
“Oh—sorry... that didn't come out right.”

“What didn't?” said Lena.

“Implying that you were cute.”

“Oh,” said Lena.

“I was not trying to create a hostile work
environment by calling you cute.”

“It’s okay, Tom,” Lena smiled, starting to
feel a little better about herself.

As she walked across the room again with her
drink order she was shocked by how much the crowd had grown in the
last few minutes. The room was jammed and Lena had to push and
slide herself through the throng, the gropes, grabs and pinches now
coming in spades. Lena didn’t even try to confront the instigators,
instead just yelling out “Excuse me!” as she ran the gauntlet.

Lena delivered her four drink orders. As she
bent over to serve the fourth one she felt a wholesale grab of her
left buttocks. “Jesus Christ,” she barked, turning around to face a
drunk and very handsome Brett sitting at the blackjack table
looking up at her with a smile that made her wet. “Honey, if I knew
this was what you looked like under your saggy-ass clothes I would
have never talked to you the way I did.”

“If that’s an apology, it’s the worst one
I’ve ever heard.”

“Get me a Jack Daniels and water, gorgeous.
And let everyone of your cohorts know that I want you to be my
personal waitress tonight. I don’t want anyone getting me drinks
but you.”

“You're already past your limit,” said
Lena.

“I'm just getting started,” said Brett.

“I'm sure you wouldn't mind Danielle serving
you as well.”

“Is she here tonight?” slurred Brett. “I bet
she looks mighty-fine too in this here—”, he said reaching up and
touching the cocktail corset material with his thumb and a
forefinger, “—this here Saran-wrap you're wearing.”

“Actually, I don't think Danielle would want
to have anything to do with a grabby, drunk guy whose wife is out
of town either.”

Brett pulled out a hundred dollar bill and
handed it to Lena. “Might this tip cover my infractions?”

“Is this yours or your wife’s?”

Brett's smile disappeared, “You may have
gotten some bad information. My money comes from the sale of my
contracting business to Merkal Hollings. I have a one-year
non-compete clause. When the year is up in August I'm going right
back into business—against my old company. How do you like that,
honey?”

“Its nice to know you're not a deadbeat,”
Nina said as she walked away, fuming as she headed back to the bar,
walking at a steady clip now that she had finally gotten used to
her towering heels. Brett was a jerk but why did it feel that
jumper cables were attached to her loins when he examined her
outfit? And why was her "safety" thong soaked?

She handed Tom the cash and receipts and gave
him her drink order. From behind, she felt a sharp pinch. “Excuse
me!” Lena yelled as she turned to face the culprit.

“Sorry, I couldn't resist.”

“Danielle!”

“I bet you're getting a lot of that tonight,
huh?” said Danielle.

“Yes, and having you do it too doesn't help,”
said Lena, her initial anger waning as she stared at her delicious
friend. “You look like you were made for that outfit,
Danielle.”

“But it wasn't made for me,” said Danielle.
“I'm already starting to get some tears in the fabric,” she said
cocking her hip towards Lena showing a couple of fingernail size
holes with bare skin showing through. “But I do have that spare
outfit, thank God.”

Lena was suddenly distracted by the wads of
cash on Danielle's tray, “Danielle, are you turning tricks? What's
with all that cash?”

“That's what you need to do too,” said
Danielle. “All those gropes and pinches? Don't get mad, monetize
them.”

“You ARE turning tricks!”

“When someone grabs your ass, tell them to
pay up or threaten to have them thrown out,” said Danielle.

“Danielle!”

“Tell them 'You want a piece of my ass, pay
for it.' Try it. Its for a good cause.”

Lena took her tray full of drinks and made
her rounds. For the first few minutes there were no gropes, pinches
or grabs—not even an unsolicited fanny pat. Lena was actually a
little disappointed. Then at her fourth drink order she felt a
two-handed grab-ass. She had never felt anything so blatant in her
life. She twisted around like a snake, ready to confront her
instigator. It was Shane Evans sitting at the roulette table.

“Shane!” said a horrified Lena.

“Oh, my God...” said Shane. “I'm so sorry, I
thought you were Danielle.”

“Danielle?! I'm four inches taller than
Danielle!”

“Sitting down I couldn't quite tell,” said
Shane. “I'm so sorry, Lena.”

“You thought I was Danielle—wait... are you
two seeing each other?”

“Well, yeah, sometimes...” said Shane.

Lena stormed off to her next order. When she
next felt a pinch to her butt she confronted the middle-aged male
instigator, “That's fifty bucks,” Lena said. The man didn't protest
and sheepishly pulled out the cash, adding, “If I wanted to do
more, how much would that be?”

“If you want a hooker, go on Craig's List,”
said Lena stalking off.

Lena delivered her next drink order to an
attractive brunette in her late thirties. She was wearing
high-heels, yoga pants and cardigan sweater and Lena figured her as
a “Cougar”. Lena hoped that she wouldn't be that desperate when she
got older.

“Six dollars even,” said Lena.

“Thank you,” said the woman, handing Lena
exact change. She then reached up and cupped Lena's ass, letting
her hand fall down to Lena's upper thigh and squeezing.

“Uh, I really don't go that direction,” said
Lena, quite simply shocked.

“I don't either. I just wanted to remember
what a firm ass and firm thighs felt like.”

“I'm sure yours feels the same as mine,” said
Lena.

“I'm sorry. My husband found himself a
younger woman... she kind of looks like you.”

“Oh... Then that's okay... don't worry about
it,” said Lena, not bothering to collect her toll this time. “Go
ahead and do it again, if you want."

The woman ran her hand over Lena's
nylon-encased bottom, her fingers lightly gliding over her round
curves, feeling like soft kisses. It was nice sensation after being
in these suicide heels for an hour and a half. Lena was feeling
herself becoming relaxed and a bit drowsy.

"I don't want to put you to sleep," laughed
the woman.

"Was I that obvious?" said Lena.

"I don't mind. I'm glad to offer you a
break."

Lena walked back to the bar, delivering a
Brett's Jack Daniels along the way. “Six-fifty, please.”

Brett smiled, “Thank you, Miss,” he said
grabbing his drink.

“No inappropriate touching this time?” said
Lena, almost sounding disappointed.

“What I want to do, we can't do out here,”
said Brett.

Lena swallowed and felt another flood of
wetness between her legs. “And what would that be, Brett?”

“Spank that luscious little ass of
yours.”

“I don't do that,” said Lena.

“A five hundred dollar tip sez you do. Ten
smacks, that's it. Comes out to fifty dollars a spank. I'd be
feeling a bit of pride right now if I were you.”

Lena grabbed her empty tray and walked off,
wanting to do it, but disgusted at how badly she wanted to.

Lena was on her way back to the bar to turn
in her next drink order when she was intercepted by Meg. “Can I
talk to you?”

Meg brought her back to the rear dressing
area where Danielle was waiting. “Danielle, what are you doing
here?”

“We're not raising enough money,” said Meg.
“And I wanted to talk to the two of you in private.”

“Oh, oh,” said Danielle.

“How short are we?” said Lena.

“We're two hours in and we're only at fifteen
percent of goal,” said Meg.

“But that can't be!” said Danielle. “There's
so many people.”

“There may be a lot of people,” said Meg.
“But they're not spending enough.”

“We'll we're doing our bit,” said Danielle,
elbowing Lena. “Lena and I have raised a thousand dollars from butt
grab tips alone.”

“I know,” said Meg. “That's why I wanted to
talk to you. You girls are the most desirable ones here to tonight.
I was wondering if maybe you could do a little bit more.”

“Like what?” said Lena, nervous and filled
with anticipation.

Meg walked over to Danielle, sliding a finger
into the hole in Danielle's outfit. Meg pinched two fingers
together on the lip of the tear and pulled. A thin strip of fabric
a few inches long and maybe a quarter inch wide was peeled off.

“Meg! What are you doing?” said Danielle.

“Showing you a new way of playing strip
poker.”

Lena and Danielle were standing in two
adjacent Blackjack booths as the throngs of bettors (mostly men)
lined up. Meg had tried to corral some of the other cocktail
waitresses for this activity but all had refused.

“Rules are the same for regular 21,” Meg
yelled out to the assembled crowd, “Except that you bet a standard
$200.00 to play a hand. If you win, you get to tear a strip off
these lovely ladies' outfit. The ladies are also the dealers, so if
there's tie, the house wins. If you win, you get the right to play
again. If you lose your hand, you must step aside and let someone
else play. Have fun and remember that its all for a good
cause!”

To Lena's horror, first in line was Brett
with a wad of cash. He stared at her with a grin that was causing
her to simultaneously want to bolt from the building and rub one
out.

Two of the volunteers who had been manning
the Blackjack booths earlier were handling the shuffling duties and
the dealing of the cards, whereas Lena and Danielle were doing the
actual playing.

“I hope you're a lousy card player,” said
Brett as his hand was dealt to him. He looked at his cards and
said, “Hit me.” He was dealt another card and busted out. “Damn!”
he yelled, making room for the next player, two hundred dollars
poorer.

Where was Shane Evans? Lena looked around and
spotted him —but to her chagrin, Shane was in Danielle's booth,
next in line!