All Day Tease Ch. 05 - The Nightclub

The melange of perfume mixed with their powerful aura of sensuality and swirled all around him.

"Oh my god, just get the fuck inside."

"Yay!" The pawing turned to hugging as the ladies squeezed in harder for a moment.

Buff felt like he was going to explode

He eased down off the stool and started to open the door. Then he stopped.

"Wait — are you all over eighteen?"

A chorus of "Yes!"

"Don't we look like it?" Ashley asked, pushing out her chest in its little teen t-shirt. Her tits strained against the thin, bright, fabric.

"Well not me — I'm so tiny." Aja gazed up at Biff with wide eyes. "But I'm twenty. Swear! You wanna see my ID?"

"No, I'll take your word for it. You are exactly the kind of girls this club needs ..."

"Awwww, so nice ". Becca said

"I'm gonna remember that!"

"Thanks daddy!"

"Hey what's your name?" asked Brittany.

"I'm Biff. Biff the Bouncer."

He made a faux slick pose, pointing a finger fun at them, for a split second before sliding back into his man-mountain mode and opening the door.

They shrieked in laughter and clapped, and then filed past him inside the building.

"Know what, Bouncer?" Aja whispered in his ear as she passed. "I love to bounce!" She bit his earlobe lightly. "Maybe you're gonna get the chance to bounce me before this night is done?" Her high voice went up like that was a question, but Biff couldn't think of a single response.

Aja trailed her arm around his neck as she passed. "See you later, Bouncer Bear!!"

"Uh-huh." He grunted his answer but there was a giant smile on his face.

Then it was just Rob. Biff looked over at him.

"Dude. Good luck in there."

Then he let out a big belly laugh and held up his fist for a bump.

Rob bumped him back just as Ali reached back through the door and pulled him inside.

********

Chapter 5, Part 3: The Sweet Spot

** 5-3-1: Jack the Barback

Jack the Barback reached the top of the basement stairs with the tray of ice, and shouldered his way through the door. His deltoids were popping under his tight black t-shirt. His sleeves were rolled up to reveal the large tribal tattoo on his right bicep. Jack was jacked for sure, an exercise fanatic, but the ice was still a little heavy.

Not that he'd ever show it, of course. He'd only been on the job less than a week and he was already addicted to flexing his muscles and strutting his stuff for the clientele. He was 21 years old, bodybuilder buff and on top of the world. The girls here were seriously hot — he'd carry loads of ice if that was the trade off for hanging around all this primo tail.

His very first night on the job — a Tuesday! — he'd been dragged behind the stage, willingly, by a smashing — and smashed — strawberry blond spinner in a green minidress, and they had fucked standing up, against the wall by the dressing room.

Of course he had gotten laid — Jack was fucking hot, and he knew it. Bitches were always throwing themselves at him. That one had been bombass though — tight as a keyhole and seriously flexible. He had cum all over her cleavage but never even got her name, let alone her number. Fuck it, there'd be another whore before too long — they were all over this place.

This was his first Saturday and he was seriously stoked for it. Yeah he played it cool with the chicks, but he did love a good roll in the hay. Last night had been kind of crazy, with a giant bachelorette party in the VIP room. He hadn't scored, despite fielding a couple significant looks from the maid of honor. They had brought a stripper, good looking dude dressed like a cop, and most of their attention had been on him, lucky motherfucker.

But Bart the Bartender had said that tonight would be even wilder. Jack was supporting Bart and Mick the Mixologist at the main bar, but would probably be doing bitch work for all of the bars. Just like this ice delivery — lay it all on the new guy, eh? Didn't matter — he'd carry anything he needed in order to stay here where the chicks were.

He pushed through the double doors into the side entrance hallway, across from the big stairs to the floor main room, when a parade of stunning women passed by him and he almost dropped the ice.

Leading the way was a young hot platinum blonde, dressed in a thin and stretched yellow shirt, with silver stretch leggings above white heels. She turned to face him as she sashayed past, and he saw the words "Popular Slut Club" stretched tightly across her full round chest. She raised an eyebrow at his stare but didn't say anything, sweeping past in a huff of perfume.

Jack's eyes zeroed in on her ass, snugly gripped in those shiny leggings. Naturally he began turning his head to follow her, until he felt a slap on his ass!

The next girl had her black hair and pale skin, with a giant mocking smile. She had obviously just goosed him while he was distracted by the blonde.

"Hands off, jock." she stage-whispered at his face. "She's mine!"

"It's Jack, actually." He called as she too passed him, and she waved a hand dismissively at him.

She was in leggings too, stretch tight black ones that outlined her every curve. If she spread 'em right now there'd be cameltoe, he was certain.

The next two held hands as they skipped past, a bouncing bubbly brunette in a gold metallic mini-dress & matching shoes, and a tight little redhead in tighter a black and red dress.

Behind the BFFs was a dude, happily walking along in the middle of a flock of chicks. His suit was decent but he was nothing special. He obviously didn't work out.

Jack gave him a dirty look as he passed. What were they doing with this average guy when they could have a guy like him?

He must be loaded, otherwise why the fuck were all these fucking smokeshows hanging with him?

Following him, playfully pushing him along was a svelte, exotic looking brunette in a crimson red dress. Jack could see a bright blue bra peeking out from around the stretched red fabric.

A graceful woman followed next, tall and willowy, with curly red hair. She moved with fluid grace, as if she was used to the runway. 'Out of his league' was not a thought that usually occurred to him, but this one seemed ... well ... out of his league.

He didn't even see the next girl until she was on top of him. Despite her stripper heels she was short, tiny like a tween. But she was old enough, he'd warrant, by that dress she was wearing, slick grip tight with a big zipper running down the side.

Wait — what the fuck was wrong with him — six bitchin fuckable chicks had passed and he hadn't hit on any of them?

The last woman was another redhead, a leggy modelesque beauty in a sequined dress of black & red. She wore red platforms that took her up to his eye level.

"What's up, Chikita." He said in his suave voice as she approached. "Can I get your number? I'm working right now but if you play your cards right I could be working you, later."

She cocked her head when she heard that, but did not reply or slow her stride.

As the redhead passed she made sure to brush her butt right up against him. Her dress sequins flipped, revealing a bright red swath where their bodies had contacted. Then she was past, heading up the steps.

Hot damn.

He was hooked.

He wanted her.

He turned to follow after then, as they started up the big staircase to the main room. Their short dresses and high heels worked together to reveal their asses to him as they ascended the stairs.

The cocky blonde and the black-haired emo chick were too far ahead, but the rest of them unintentionally (or not) showed off their panties as their dresses pulled up with each step.

The redhead stopped on the top step and kicked her left knee back. Before he could stop, her high heel poked into his crotch for a minute, and he almost dropped the ice again.

She turned to consider him over her shoulder, and then seemed to come to a decision.

"You —" she started, and reached a pair of her delicate manicured fingers into his ice bin. Jack could see the tiny points of her cat-eye makeup.

She picked out a single cube and licked it with her tongue before reaching up and popping it between his lips.

"— should be more polite." She finished, raising an eyebrow at him. Then she spun on her heel and walked after the others.

Oh yeah! It's on, Red. I'm banging her tonight. It's gonna be off the hook!

With a spring in his step and a bulge in his jeans, he went down the service hallway to drop off the ice at the bar.

** 5-3-2: The Main Room

Rob followed Nikki through a doorway and into a cavernous room. There were two big bars, a series of tall boy tables, and a decent crowd on the dance floor.

The dance floor was lit like a music video, with moving lights and strobes, the rest of the club shadowy & cavernous.

Across the giant room on the far right side was a high raised platform that ran down the length back wall, and in the middle was the DJ booth. It has a scenic surround that looked like a Monster Truck from the front, and the DJ had his decks laid out behind a low windshield. To either side of the booth were giant main speakers that were painted to look like huge truck tires. The space extended behind the turntables but you couldn't see inside from the floor.

There was a disconnect visually — the bold Americana of monster trucks didn't quite harmonize with the city slick vibe of the rest of the place. There must have been a story behind that, Rob thought. Or maybe it was just hipster irony.

He turned to see where the girls were heading. Ali, Becca, Aja & Sasha were already in the throng, spinning and twirling their slick sexy bodies among their fellow dancers. Becca had her hands above her head, rocking her body to the beat, and her dress-encased chest bounced up and down. Aja was working her way in towards the tallest guy in the throng, a Black beanpole with a blue ballcap, and Sasha was just dancing blindly, joyfully, her long leggingslick legs pumping up and down as she shook her hips.

Ashley was nowhere to be seen, and Stephanie & Brittany were making their way over to one of the round couches, with Nikki trailing along after, clearly distracted by the strobing lights & bright colors on the dance floor.

Stephanie beelined towards a couch in the back corner which was occupied by a pair of single guys, with Brittany right on her heels. The guys had obviously just gotten here, and nabbed the last open spot. They were decent looking, nothing special.

Nikki slipped over to Rob and snuggled up against him, writhing subtly to the beat. They both stopped a little ways from the couch and watched Steph & Britt jump into action.

In one slick move they slipped onto the guys couch, Stephanie on the outside of one guy & Brittany the other.

Rob couldn't hear what they said exactly, but he saw Stephanie lewdly tonguing her guys ears, in between whispering. Brittany was holding one of her guys' hands right in front of her chest already, and she was leaning in to stare right into his eyes like they were kissing.

Almost as one, the girls each pulled back and sat, watching their prey. The guys looked at each other, and then nodded emphatically.

Stephanie pulled out her phone, tapped on it for a moment and then offered it to her guy. He typed something in and handed it back.

Then he and his friend grabbed their drinks and stood up. The girls stood too, and each gave her guy a quick hug and a little peck on the cheek.

Then the guys left, almost ran away. Rob couldn't see Stephanie's guy, but Brittany's guy definitely had a stiffy.

Nikki pulled Rob over and high-fived Steph.

"Yeah girl! What did you say to them?"

"Oh, nothing special." Stephanie demurred. "Just that I wanted this seat, and if they let me have it then I might be nice to them in the future. Then I asked Jeff for his number."

"That's it?" Nikki couldn't believe it had been that easy. But Stephanie was a seductress extraordinaire, and could play men — and women too, probably — like a violin.

They sat around the couches and claimed the area for themselves. Rob ended up between Stephanie and Nikki, with Brittany on the other couch.

They all settled in, and after a minute or two Stephanie & Nikki turned their attention towards Rob.

"So who does it better?" Nikki asked, innocent-sounding.

"Who does what better?" Rob replied.

"What do you mean, what?" Her eyes went huge. "Who's a better tease?"

Her hands dropped down to his crotch and began making light grasping motions.

"Yeah, Rob." Stephanie smiled, and her hand went up to stroke Rob's hair. "We've each had a crack at making you hard today."

"And you've each succeeded, damn." He looked back and forth between the two. "I've never experienced anything like today."

He gestured towards Stephanie.

"You are a fucking world-class Grand Master tease."

Steph smiled and slapped him ever so gently on the cheek before correcting him: "Grand Mistress."

"Yes Mistress, forgive me Mistress." Rob spoke with an over-the-top apologetic tone.

He swiveled over to Nikki and said, "And you, are every bit as beguiling."

"Haha, that's because she taught me everything I know!" Nikki laughed, and Stephanie held her hand up for a high five.

Just then a tall, lean, woman with long blonde hair and a tray walked up.

"Hello, I'm Serenity. Get you something to drink?"

Rob looked at the girls and said, "I'll take an Añejo tequila, no salt, no lime, and a lager beer. Plus whatever these ladies want."

Serenity nodded and looked at the others.

Stephanie & Brittany went in with him on the tequila shot, and Nikki ordered a vodka tonic.

Serenity went off towards the bar, and the girls focused their attention back on Rob.

"Well, what ok, you talked about two of us. What if we widened the circle." Nikki observed.

"Explain." He leaned forward.

"You've encountered — correct me if I'm wrong — an above average number of extremely attractive women." She continued.

Rob tipped his head in agreement.

"So rate us."

"What?" Rob looked back and forth at the faces around him.

"Put us in order from hottest to least sexy."

"Oh no"

"It doesn't work like that — every single one of you is the hottest, at times. I'm a guy — I'm easy: whichever one of your girlfriends who is in my face pushing my buttons is the hottest."

"Yes!" chimed in Brittany. "Sexuality, like love, is not zero sum. You can't do algebra with it."

"People are animals. We want what we want. Only difference is we have to bullshit around it, instead of just walking up to someone you fancy and sniffing their ass like the dogs do."

She stood up and surveyed the dance floor. "Except out there, maybe."

Rob stood too, and looked out over the throng of people moving together, bodies swaying and writhing.

Sasha was visible through the crowd, eyes closed, rubbing her hands all over her body as she spun back and forth.

Becca was closer to them, squeezed tightly in between two tall dudes. One had his hand on her ass as they danced.

He saw Ashely slip out of the crowd on the other side of the room and head into the bar ...

** 5-3-3: Mick the Mixologist

"Enough with the fucking Cosmopolitans."

Mick the Mixologist muttered to himself as he farted out three of the world's most boring .

"Thanks!" The trio of girls looked like softporn club girls right out of Central Casting, with their short tight dresses & jangle jewelry & model makeup. The tall blonde in the middle waved her card in his face and he almost snatched it.

But he was cool, better than that. He rang up the drinks and slapped a receipt down on the bar. She breezily signed it, no típ, and turned away with her clique. They left through the west entrance back into Dance land, and Mick watched their asses shake as they walked.

"Best thing about most of these girls is when they're going away," he thought to himself.

It had been a minute since he hooked up with someone at the club.

Oh he pulled like a motherfucking tow truck in his twenties, bedding customers, bartenders & wait staff alike at a dozen restaurants across town. Sometimes together. He and Serenity did the deed within a week of him getting hired.

But he had aged, matured upon hitting forty, and realized that he needed something more.

It's just that the girls in the club recently had been especially dim-watts — no sense of sophistication or worldly ness, nothing to say. Absolutely no discernment for the finer things in life, like cocktails. Hence the Cosmos.

Whatever. They still looked like a million bucks in their stretched-tight slutty outfits.

Dan from down the end of the bar flagged him over and asked for a Toki Highball. At least it wasn't another Cosmo, Mick thought. He gave Dan his winning smile and said "Coming right up."

He was facing the bitters bottles as he reached through them for See's Bark when he noticed something.

Just above the drink he was mixing he could see a bright yellow stretch top, stretched too tightly over a pair of perfectly shaped, sweet, succulent breasts. There were words on the top but they were mostly cut off by the bar.

He looked up, and took her in.

****

Ashley pulled all the wrinkles out of her shirt and stretched it out tight, right across her chest. She sauntered along the pathway around the dance floor, sliding lithely in between party people as she passed, and slipped into the bar.

The "Sideways Saloon", as the flickering neon sign named it, was long and thin, with a bar down one side and a row of high-boys against a half wall overlooking the dance floor on the other. The bar was mostly empty, only a handful of people seated. The tables were more crowded, couples and loud groups of friends, uninhibited and self-absorbed.

There were two people behind the bar, but Ashley only had eyes for one of them — a square-jawed drumstick in his late thirties or early forties, wearing shirtsleeves and suspenders.

The other guy down the bar was the young jock airhead they had passed on their way in. She had written him off immediately, when she saw him back there.

Yeah his shoulders were juiced but he was obviously a dumb bell, and she was looking for a higher class of prey. She had been teasing older men all day, and now she was ready to take one all the way.

So she hung in the entrance for a moment until the lugnut was busy stocking glasses onto the shelves, and sashayed over to the bar.

She landed directly in front of the older bartender, where he was picking a bottle of bitters from a handful of brown lookalikes, and pushed herself up to the bar.

Her forearms clenched in to her sides as she hoisted her upper body on the bar surface, latching her shoes into the brass kick bar below. This made her chest press out even more, and the words "Popular Slut Club" curved in and out following the contours of her breasts

He paused for a moment to look her up and down. He wasn't thrown off by the blatant display of her body. Good, she thought.

"What can I do for you, young lady." She thought he emphasized the word 'young'.

"What do you want to do to me?" She sassed back, cocking her neck to one side. "Do you want to serve me?"

"Maybe if you wait your turn." He dashed the bitters into the drink he was making and then slammed the top on the shaker. Then he stood up straight and shook the shaker slowly, once, twice, three times. Then he poured it into a glass and leaned over to place it on a tray by the service bar.

"And if you're old enough." He raised an eyebrow and glanced pointedly at her shirt.

Ashley picked up a drink straw and put the end in her mouth, twisting it between her lips.

"You make like you're a pretty spiffy cocktologist, with that shake." She smiled at him as she sucked lightly on the straw out of the side of her mouth. "Are you?"