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High tea at the posh Drake’s Palm Court was an indulgence she had never experienced, now here she was invited to be a guest of the Whitings. Tasha smiled at the thought of seeing Sharon and Don, again. Excited, she opened the luxurious velvet box; laying on a bed of black satin were a strand of milky white pearls with a fine gold closure. Tasha’s jaw dropped at the quality of the silky beads as she caressed them with her fingertips. Tasha quickly looked at the time, it was a quarter until eleven now. Her lunch break was scheduled for noon, she would have to swap hours with her co-workers to make the one o’clock lunch date. She was sure that Jasmine would be happy to do so, especially if she led her to believe she was meeting up with Brian; if she couldn’t explain her kinky sexual encounter with Brian, how could she do so to her friend. At 12:45 after securing a later lunch break, Tasha stepped into an empty fitting room to freshen up her look. She had worn a simple black dress and. The club closed at 2:30. I coughed, trying my best to keep quiet. I thought about that nights dance she did for me. * * * * * * * * * * * * * I was sitting at a horse shoe booth in the back of the club, I was finishing off my second screwdriver. The booth had curtains that you could close for privacy and was lit by a small ceiling lamp that hung down just a few feet above the table. Desire had been alerted by the bartender that I was there and wanted to have drinks with her. I had seen many dancers go to these booths with customers. I didn’t know what the rules were, but I soon found out. She came up to me, followed by a bouncer. He was black and tall and stood by the curtains. ‘No hands, sir,’ he said in an almost Mr. T sort of way. I almost choked in laughter, wanting to crack a joke like ‘I pity the fool who touches my strippers!’ but kept myself from it. She slid across the side of the booth and sat next to me. The bouncer smiled, ‘You have 15 minutes sir.’ He closed the curtains.
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