“Damn that’s loud,” he said. It sounded as if he was talking underwater, muffled and faint.
“What?” cried Karen.
He was about to repeat himself but stopped when he saw Karen smiling. Realizing she was pretending to be momentarily deaf brought a smile out of him as well.
“Think they’re done with the music?” she said.
“Maybe they’re taking a break for requests?”
Andy’s hand was flat on the table. Karen put hers on top of his, inserting her fingers in the grooves between his. “What have we gotten ourselves into?”
“It’s not we. I got us into this.”
Shaking her head, Karen said, “That’s so not true.”
“Yes, it is. All this could have been avoided if I’d given Kaufman the stupid laptop.”
“Let’s stop this, okay? We can blame ourselves all night and it won’t change us being here.”
“I guess...”
“Now that that’s settled, what the hell do we do now?”
“What kind of place is this?”
“I asked you that, remember?” She nodded her chin in front of them. “But…seeing that stage there makes me think it’s a live acts kinda place.”
Frowning, Andy looked at the stage, not far away. The platform was two steps up to a higher level. An empty heart-shaped bed was centered on the stage, covered in a black sheet. A matching, padded footstool was at the tip of the heart.
“Live acts? Do you mean…?”
“Uh-huh,” said Karen, tongue in her cheek. “I’m more than a little curious now. Aren’t you?”
“Well…I didn’t think places like that really existed.”
“I’m sure it’s not what you’re thinking it is.”
“What would it be, then?”
“Probably simulated sex on stage, not the real thing. Back in my college days, I went to New Orleans with some friends. Drunk as hell one night, we wandered into a club claiming live sex shows.” With disappointment clearly evident in her voice, she added, “It was staged.”
“So you think this will be?
Shrugging, Karen said, “If that’s what they do here. I’m pretty positive it’s illegal in North Carolina, but I can’t remember for sure.”
Andy felt disappointment, and was embarrassed that he did. “I’ve seen a movie with a place like that in it. I think it was called New York Ripper.”
“Now you might see the real thing, sort of.”
“Can’t wait…” His head felt like he’d just received dental work: numb and very heavy.
A few seconds of silence passed between them.
Karen leaned closer to him. “I’m kind of excited.”
“Really?”
“Well…anxious? Maybe that’s a better word for it. I’m wondering what we’re going to see here.”
“A lot of naked women so far.”
“Yeah…but what if people do get on stage.”
“I thought you said these places aren’t legit.”
Andy saw a flash of movement, an empty tray slapping the table. The naked waitress appeared, threw her leg over him, and straddled his lap. Her groin dug into his. She hung her arms on his shoulders, embracing his neck. “Hi there.”
Andy’s heart pounded. He was certain she could feel it.
“Excuse you?” said Karen, just over her shoulder.
“I’m sorry.” The waitress flung her auburn hair in Andy’s face when she turned. “Is this yours?” Grinding her hips, her crotch rubbed across Andy’s penis.
“As a matter of fact…”
“Maybe you can get behind him and join in? I don’t mind.”
“Hey,” said Karen, her voice growing strict.
“I’m just teasing,” the waitress sulked as she climbed off Andy.
Quickly, Andy pulled at his pants to hide his hard on. Karen was too busy focusing on the waitress to notice.
“Hope I didn’t piss you off too much,” the waitress said. “Your date here looked a little uptight, so I thought I’d soften him up some. Or make him harder?” She looked at Andy, and winked.
Great…she noticed.
How could she have missed it? Jabbing up into her like that.
Andy felt like an ass.
“I’m Alexia, your servant. Will you be drinking tonight?”
Servant. Wow.
Sounded like a slave. Andy supposed it was meant to in a place like this.
“Heavily,” answered Karen.
“That’s my kind of girl.”
“Whiskey Sour, please.”
Alexia turned to Andy, arching an eyebrow. “And you, lover?”
And here it was, the moment Andy had known would come sooner or later: his fall off the wagon. Not that he’d battled alcoholism, or bilious mornings of waking up covered in his piss and shit. Still, he’d had moments where he wondered if one day he would. It had been almost as hard to stop drinking as it had been to quit smoking…
Well, I already screwed that to hell. Why not go two for two?
“Bud Light.”
Smiling, Alexia said, “Bottle or draft?”
“How much for draft?”
Alexia looked at him as if he’d just farted. “There’s no charge here.”
“There’s…not?”
She shook her head, breasts jiggling slightly. “Hell no. No cover, no charge. It’s free, baby. All you can want, all you neeeed.” Smirking, she added, “We’re here to serve you in any way.”
Andy gulped. “Draft then…”
“I’ll be back with your drinks.” She placed a pointy fingernail under Andy’s chin, gently raising his head. “Lover.” Then she was gone, meandering through the crowd like a ghost. She had the tray tucked under her arm, though Andy hadn’t noticed her grabbing it.
“Wow,” said Karen. “They really put on a show, don’t they?”
“Uh…if that’s what you call it.”
“She was all over you. Guess since they don’t make any money off the booze, they go overboard for the tips.”
“Does seem like a game, doesn’t it?”
Karen nodded. “Maybe it’s like one of those things where you spend a shitload of money to eat while being treated like shit.”
Andy had actually taken Nicole to a seafood place where the staff went out of their way to be rude, and the customers just smiled and enjoyed it. “I can see that.”
“Yeah? Instead of talking to you like you’re garbage, they act as if they want to…rip your clothes off.”
If Alexia had torn his clothes open, his erection would have been exposed. How would he have reacted to that? Angry? Embarrassed?
Proud?
It’s been awhile since anyone’s seen it…other than my hand.
What would have happened if she’d sat down on him, and slipped him in?
Andy didn’t want to think about it.
“Maybe I should work here,” said Karen, smiling.
“I’d be here every night.”
“Maybe I’ll be your servant?”
Andy opened his mouth to respond with something less than witty, but the squeal of feedback resonating from the speakers interrupted. The audience cheered. Tapping echoed through the club.
“Can everyone hear me?” The voice came over the P.A. system, slightly distorted and loud. Andy recognized it right away.
Sugar.
She was standing on the stage behind a chrome microphone stand that had been sculpted into a woman’s naked body. Its back was arched to make the head gaze at Sugar upside down. “Sorry to keep you fiends waiting.” She spoke into the silvery mouth.
Sugar saw Andy and winked, licking her upper lip. The gesture caused heat to flow through him, and he had to admit he was kind of glad to see her again. A familiar face amongst all this craziness was like a blessing.
Even if it was Sugar’s.
Laughter, more whistles.
“My name’s Sugar, your host for the evening, and we’re about to get started, although looking at
you all tonight, I can tell some of you already started without me!”
Whistles and cheers.
Sugar held up her hand. The ovations calmed down. “Well, let’s hold out a little longer. The show’s about to begin momentarily, so that means the music will be off, and all you’ll have for entertainment is each other.” She winked at Andy. “I’m sure that won’t be a problem for some of you.”
Karen leaned over to him. “What did that mean?”
Andy just shook his head. He had no clue.
“But, for now, I need a volunteer for our warm up show. Which man out there wants to come on stage and participate?”
Many men volunteered, jumping up and down, waving their arms. Andy heard a tumult of pleas as nearly every man in the club professed their willingness.
“You,” said Sugar, pointing into the herd. “My bald hero right there.” She smiled, nodded. “Yep. You honey-baby, get up here.”
Andy and Karen turned to see a robust biker heading up to the stage as groans and moans of disappointment from the rest followed. Shirtless, he wore a leather vest and pants with matching leather chaps. He mounted the stage, holding his arms out to embrace Sugar.
She put her hand flat on his chest. “Not so fast, lover. People have to earn a show with me.” The crowd booed. “Come with me for a minute so we can get you ready.”
“Sounds good to me,” the man said.
Laughter came from the crowd, followed by applause.
Sugar spoke into the microphone’s chrome mouth again. “So, drink ‘em if you got 'em, and no matter what: Don’t keep your hands to yourself!”
Wild ovations filled the room. Sharp whistles pierced Andy’s ears, causing him to wince. Sugar waved, then exited to the right. She vanished behind a black curtain, her arm curled around the big guy.
Chapter Eighteen
Alexia brought them their drinks. She placed a large mug of bubbly yellow fluid capped in foam in front of Andy. He felt his tongue go dry. It had been such a long time since beer had flowed through his mouth. Hands twitching, he had to restrain from snatching the mug off the table and hugging it to his chest. He might have licked the frosty glass had he been alone.
He raised the beer to his mouth, blew some foam away, and drank. The beer filled his mouth, quenching the dehydrated thirst of his tongue. He gulped fervently. It tasted cold and wonderful.
Karen raised her small plastic cup, swigged two deep gulps, and grimaced. It wasn’t an expression of disgust. She looked as if the drink might have hurt a tad going down.
Andy noticed Alexia hadn’t left, and still stood on the other side of the table, watching Karen. “You’ve got some nice legs,” she told Karen.
Karen was about to take another drink, but accidentally spilled some on her thumb when Alexia spoke. She smiled shyly. “Thank you.” Putting her thumb in her mouth, she sucked the spilled whiskey off. Andy liked how her lips formed around her thumb, pinching tightly together, yet puckering fully as if kissing.
“Can I rub your thigh a little?” asked Alexia.
Andy nearly choked on his beer. He managed to swallow the foamy beverage before his throat closed up. The frankness of the question had surprised him, and he could only imagine how it had come across to Karen.
“My…thigh? Why?”
“It looks so soft. I bet it feels really smooth.”
Andy studied the arc where her thigh met her knee, agreeing.
Karen glanced at Andy, shook her head, then said, “I suppose it’s all right.”
Andy couldn’t hide his disbelief. His mouth dropped open. Karen made a face that read of good humor. This was all a game to her.
“Yay!” Alexia set the tray back on their table. A corner hung off the lip of the table. She hurried around Andy’s backside and squatted down in the tight space between their chairs. “You know, I had my doubts about you.”
“Doubts?”
“Yeah. I thought you might be a little close-minded. Maybe I was wrong?”
Karen’s eyes narrowed.
“You’re sure you don’t mind?” asked Alexia.
“No, I don’t mind. I’m flattered. Just…you know…don’t get weird.”
“Weird? Whatever.” She looked back at Andy over her shoulder. Her hair swathed all of her face except a portion of her eye. “Gonna watch?”
“Probably.”
Alexia smiled. “Good.” She placed her hand on top of Karen’s leg just above the knee. She flexed her fingers, then began lightly brushing the skin with their tips. She moaned.
Andy looked at Karen whose eyes were focused on him. She raised her eyebrows, forming a gasping O with her mouth as if he’d caught her doing something naughty. He smiled at her playfulness. This really was a game to her. He liked how lighthearted she was handling the situation.
“I was right,” said Alexia. “Smooooth. Probably some of the smoothest skin I’ve ever felt.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls you grope.”
Alexia laughed. “Hardly.” Her hand snuck higher. It vanished over the side of Karen’s thigh, then reappeared at the top as she softly rubbed it. “Damn…so soft. I’m in love with your skin.”
Karen gulped. Frowning marginally, her bottom lip hid under the top.
Andy wondered if he should intervene.
Alexia’s hand started to travel upward, making its way under her skirt. Karen jerked back, yanking her leg away. Gasping, Alexia tumbled backward, flinging her arms high. She fell against Andy’s legs. Sprawled out, she turned so that she was facing Andy, her left leg extended, the right bent at the knee and draping the left thigh.
“Too far!” shouted Karen. “You said my thigh. That was not my thigh!”
Alexia held the back of her head, rubbing. Her hair shook around her shoulders. “Ow…”
“Shit!” Karen added.
“Sorry…” Alexia sat up, groaning. Her skin looked pale and smooth down in the shadowy lake of the floor. “Force of habit…” She scurried to her feet, using Andy’s legs for leverage. Her breasts brushed his cheek. Her skin smelled like a combination of vanilla and sweat. “I hope you enjoy your stay here.” Reaching over the table, she snatched her drink tray. She hurried to the bar without looking back.
Karen slapped at her leg, as if the harder she struck herself the less it would feel like a stranger’s hand had been there. Andy wondered why she’d let Alexia do as much as rub her leg, knowing the risk involved.
Well…she’d told her no weird stuff.
Maybe Alexia didn’t think what she was doing was weird.
Karen sure did.
“Can you believe that?” said Karen. “She actually touched me.”
“I saw that one coming.”
“Well…I guess I should have, too, but I’d hoped she would have known...” She sounded a tad winded.
Andy frowned, sipped his beer.
“You’re probably wondering why I reacted like that, huh?”
He was curious, but hadn’t planned on asking. “It’s none of my business.”
“It is if I tell you about it.”
“Look,” he said, waving a hand. “Really…you don’t need to explain yourself. I thought your reaction was justified, you know. I mean, she took it too far. How else would you have reacted?”
“Like these people,” Karen said, leaning her head back to imply the other patrons.
Andy looked at them, seeing litters of man hands rubbing and caressing naked servants and female customers. “Well…that might have been what she wanted, but you warned her.”
“Still, I shouldn’t have acted like that. I knocked her on her ass for christsake!”
Andy shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah, but…” He didn’t know what to say from there.
“I was molested by a babysitter when I was younger.”
Andy’s beer didn’t taste as good as it had moments ago. He sat the mug down, and watched Karen. Her watery eyes were aimed at Andy, but she wasn’t looking at him. All she could see was t
he memory replaying in front of her.
Damn Alexia’s roaming hand.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She didn’t react to his poor attempt at consoling. “And, the thing is, I didn’t tell my parents because I was afraid I would get in trouble.”
“A lot of kids think that.”
“Every two weeks, my parents made sure they had a date night. I was ten then, and Teresa, my babysitter, would come over to watch me. She’d promise my mom we’d clean up the popcorn—that never got popped, by the way—and she wouldn’t let me watch any movies I shouldn’t. She kept that promise, because we never watched movies. I was her movie. She would make me strip for her, do things to myself while she watched…and then I had to do things to…her, and she would do them…to me.”
Karen’s voice was becoming thicker the more she spoke, like she’d swallowed a swelling bubble. “It went on like that for a few months.”
“And you never told?”
She shook her head. “Not on my own.”
“So, she got away with it?”
“I didn’t say that, did I?” Karen gave him a strange smirk. “My Dad could tell something was wrong from how I was acting. I’m a very good artist. And, he loved watching me draw, paint, doodle, whatever. Every day when he came home from work, I tried to have a new piece of art for him—a present from me to him. After Teresa started her bullshit, it became harder for me to draw these pictures for him. I tried to fake it, you know, just…to…keep up appearances?”
Andy nodded.
“But, he could tell a difference in the quality, I guess. Then I stopped drawing altogether. He sat me down and asked me what had happened that was causing me to bottle myself up. He told me that no matter what, I could tell him and I wouldn’t be in trouble.”
“You told him?”
“Not all of it, not at first. I told him enough for him to take the next step.”
“Which was?”
“Calling his friends on the force. They paid her a visit. She confessed to everything rather quickly.” Karen took a small sip of her drink, swished it around her mouth, then took another heavier swallow. “Since she was still a minor as well, she was locked up in a juvenile facility until she turned eighteen. Then she was transferred to the women’s prison. She only served a year and a half there and was released on good behavior.”
The Skin Show Page 15