Birthday Boy

It was ten days since he had broken up with his girlfriend and still the coffee was bitter. Roger didn't complain though. Not out loud. He just drank it since his friends were nice enough to take him out. It was his birthday and though he preferred to stay at home and pine over Rosie, his friends still dragged him out kicking and screaming.

Roger looked around the coffee shop. Couldn't help it because his friends were looking around as well. There were a few girls splattered here and there. Mostly with tank tops and shorts and legs just dying for a tan. Why did it have to be summer? If it was winter, those legs would be covered, the chests would be covered as well. Big winter coats to hide breasts that reminded him of Rosie. The days when his mouth would caress them, or as Rosie would say "peck them as if eating birdfeed." He was never good enough for her, and he guessed that's why they broke up. Or more specifically, why she broke up with him. Maybe if he had lost his virginity in high school and had several notches on his belt like Randy and Jason (his version of Lenny and Squiggy that hung out with him - and was he lame that he still watched Laverne & Shirley?). He wasn't the kind of stud that they were. In fact, he had met them in College. They helped him meet Rosie and being with her was like being in heaven. The only problem was his sword was dull.

He watched as the girls in the coffee shop looked down on him, pinning him to his seat with their eyes. He looked away. "This is fun."

"Yes it is!" giggled Randy excitedly fixing his left short sleeve. The fold came down as he had waved his fist at a girl during Roger's introspection. It wasn't a "I'm gonna punch you" kind of fist, but a "come get some of this" fist. It was the kind of fist you joked around with your friends, not the kind you showed to the girls, unless you were as bold as Randy. Randy had blonde hair and a tan any girl would be jealous for. The only problem was, he was too forward. Who was Roger to judge though? Randy was laid more times than he could count.

"Come on, cheer up, Roger!" Jason bit his bottom lip then nodded to a girl wearing a black leather jacket. "It's too hot for her to be wearing that. I should take it off."

"Yeah, you should go over there," said Randy slapping Jason's back with his hand. "Go over there."

Roger stood up. "Well, this was fun. Another fun birthday. Well, see you guys."

"Sit back down," said Jason smirking. He grabbed Roger's shirt sleeve and Roger was back on his seat. "What kind of friends would we be if we just took you for coffee?"

"Really guys, this is okay," sighed Roger, "I'm glad you came and took me out, but really, I'm just happy to spend the night alone in my dorm. It's just another birthday."

"It's your twenty-first birthday," piped in Randy. "Man, when I was twenty-one, you know what I did?"

"Got laid." Roger rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" Randy winked.

"Okay, okay, enough fooling around," said Jason. "We'd better tell him." Jason put his hands in his jeans pocket then took out three pieces of paper. He tossed one to Roger.

Roger scoffed before looking at the paper. "What's this? 1-800-hookers are us?"

"Don't be silly!" Jason shook his head. "Really? What do you take me for? Some kind of pimp? Puh-lease!"

"You'll like this, Roger," smiled Randy, nodding his head. "Jason's got connections. Take a look."

Roger picked up the piece of paper and looked at it. Greater Star Club Presents Ginger. "Nice, Ginger from Gilligan's Island."

Jason rolled his eyes. "This is why you don't get dates. Do me and the world a favor and don't mention any weird TV shows. Nerdiness isn't hot."

"What is it then?"

Randy shrugged. "It's nerdy. Anyway, what do you think?"

"What is it? Some kind of show?"

"Puh-lease!" Jason rolled his eyes. "Some kind of show? Some kind of show? Is Wrestlemania just some kind of show?"

Randy pointed at the ticket. "This piece of paper gets you into a night of debauchery or to put it in your terms, lots of sex! We're talking all the sex you can eat."

"All the pussy you can eat," added Jason. "Of course, that's after the show because the chicks will be so hot and drooling from their mouths and their nether regions that you won't know where to start."

Roger slid the ticket back to Jason. "I'll pass."

Jason slid the ticket back to Roger. "No, you won't. It's our gift for your birthday."

"Plus you have to get out of the house." Randy stretched. "We'll pick you up at seven. Dress is casual."

2

Roger had no idea what to wear. Actually, that wasn't true, they told him it'd be casual. Casual meant jeans. He settled for a black sweater to go with the blue jeans. That would be casual enough and besides, he wouldn't be out all that long, he thought to himself. Probably just some hour show on stage, then he would be safe to return home. He wasn't one to party. Going out for coffee had been a struggle in and of itself, but he couldn't turn down his friends, now could he? Yet, here they were with this extra silliness. Who was this Ginger person anyway?

The knock on the door meant he was now a prisoner and the guards were ready to take him away to jail. The jail of fun. He opened the door and standing there with goofy grins on their faces were his friends, Randy and Jason. Randy was the goofier one. Then again, he was the one who stood out more. Girls were suckers for the blonde guy. Jason was dark-haired. Tall, dark, and handsome. Roger wasn't sure what he was. His hair was brown, but he didn't really pay attention to it. There was no need to when there were no girls in his life.

"Ready to go, buddy?" asked Randy, elbowing Jason in his side. "He's ready to go."

"Yes," sighed Roger, "I'm ready to go. Take me to this Greater Star Club then." He shrugged. "Is this okay?"

Jason bit his bottom lip slightly, then nodded. "Yeah, that'll do fine. Could've just thrown on a T-shirt like us."

Roger smirked. "It's supposed to rain tonight."

"So what?" laughed Randy. "We'll be indoors and I'll be too busy to think about rain, if you catch my drift."

Roger shrugged it off and let them lead him to Jason's car. He leaned back looking out his side window as they drove. Once they reached the club, Roger stepped out of the car, looked around and saw the long line of people across the street.

Jason got of the car and put his arm around Roger. "There you go buddy. There it is, your initiation into adulthood."

"I'm already an adult," frowned Roger. He crossed his arms. "Not sure about you two."

"Hey birthday boy," laughed Randy whacking his friend across the back, "don't be so glum."

They crossed the street while Roger shook his head. He stood behind some fat girl with a skinny tank top. "Yeah, good idea. Do you realize how long this line is?"

Jason patted Roger's shoulder. "There, there, relax, Roger. I've been here before, it moves fast."

"Yeah, I guess." Roger looked in front of him and saw the fat girl was 2 meters ahead of him. He rushed up behind her and saw the line moving fast like Jason said it was.

The bouncer was the usual kind with the black T-shirt, bald and full of muscle. He nodded to Roger and punched his ticket with the puncher. "You boys are gonna have a good time tonight, eh?"

Randy giggled. "That we are, my man, that we are."

The bouncer punched Randy's ticket, and smiled. "Enjoy the show."

Jason led the way. Once inside the door, they had to climb stairs. It was an auditorium, as if they were going to see some play, thought Roger. He saw the stage get smaller and smaller as they climbed higher and higher. Great, he'd be watching an ant farm.

"Can't we go closer? Why are we sitting all the way up there?"

"One, because that's the number of our seats," said Jason, "and two, don't you know that the closer you sit, the more the illusion of the ballet lessens?"

"I don't think this is going to be a ballet. Or is this going to be a ballet?"

Randy giggled. "Oh, it's going to be a ballet!" He followed Jason down the aisle, then Jason sat down. Randy sat down next to him and then Roger sat down next to Randy. "Good seats, huh?"

Jason cleared his throat. "Um, Randy you have to switch places with Roger."

"Why?"

"Because you're not sitting in the right number. Look at your seat."

Randy sighed, dipped his head down as if he was going to give himself head and saw the seat number. He looked at his ticket, frowned and got up. "I don't know what the big deal is."

"They're really strict about the seating."

Randy got up and traded places with Roger. "Don't see why, we're all friends."

Jason shrugged. "Trust me." He pointed to the little camera above them. "They're watching."

"Ladies and gentlemen," came a voice from above their seats, "please take your seats, the show will begin in five minutes."

"Damn, that scared me!" laughed Randy. "Didn't know they had a speaker right above our heads. Hope I don't go deaf!"

"Trust me," laughed Jason, "You won't mind going deaf."

Roger sat back and folded his arms in front of him. The audience was getting quieter and quieter. The loud hustle and bustle was now turning into soft whispers. There was a couple in front of him and they were holding hands. Roger stretched out his legs, then sat straight in his chair bringing his legs back to where they were with his feet planted on the ground. Lots of leg room. He shrugged. At least he had the leg room going for him. If the show was dull, he could take a good nap.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please sit back comfortably, and remember there is no smoking." A few groans were heard. "Though the smoking from your guns is allowed." Cheers from the audience. Roger could almost hear the quickening heartbeats of the audience. "Please enjoy the show." The lights started to dim until they were all in darkness.

There was a spotlight on the stage and Roger could see the stage rising a bit. This special effect didn't excite him as much as they thought it would, but he gave it a chance. After all, it was only a minute into the show. The stage stopped rising and stepping into the spotlight was a gentleman wearing a red suit jacket and red pants. He had on a white shirt and something that looked like a red rose pinned to it. His top hat was long and black. Roger frowned when he saw the man's black cape, but was intrigued that the man looked like he was four feet tall.

"Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, children eighteen and over, welcome to the Greater Star Club!" The man flourished his hands in the air. His lips were red. "My name is Manick and I shall be your tour guide for tonight's pleasure romp! If this is your first time, please don't be afraid to come in your pants. It happens to everyone. If you haven't brought a handkerchief don't worry, there should be one in the arm of your seat." He smirked. "I'll wait a minute for you to find it!"

"What the hell?" said Roger, looking to his left at Jason, then his right, at Randy. His jaw dropped as he saw Randy pulling open what looked like an astray on the seat arm. He pulled out a handkerchief, then closed the astray.

Randy winked. "You never know, might come in handy."

Roger looked back at the stage, shook his head and sighed. There was nothing in his astray.

"Great!" continued Manick. "You've found it! Please remember, we are not responsible for any seizures or heart attacks you may have. Enter at your own risk! Penetrate at your own risk! And now, as they say, on with the show!" He clapped his hands and the spotlight turned off leaving the audience, again, in total darkness.

The spotlight turned on again, and this time a lady was illuminated. She stood, dressed in a green evening gown, with a green shawl draped on her arm. As she walked across the stage she kicked off her green high heels, careful to keep her profile to the audience. Her hair was in ringlets and her arms were sparkling white. Roger could almost see spots of sweat on those arms. It made him almost wish for a handkerchief in his ashtray. He cleared his throat and continued to watch as she sat on the bed that was now illuminated by another spotlight. The lady was now facing the audience. Her lips were pressed tight and she stared at the audience with burning eyes, as if daring them to come down and tear off her clothes. There were a few sounds of shallow breathing. People, men, starting to get themselves ready, stroking themselves. Roger shivered. Why was he here?

"My name is Ginger," said the lady. Her voice resonated on the speaker, and at that moment was the only voice in the room. It was as if there were no one else but the watcher and her. At least that was the way Roger felt. It could've been just her and him in the room. He shook the thought away. It was just a show after all. None of this was actually real! Why was we always such a spoil sport? No wonder his friends never took him anywhere.

Ginger smirked shyly, set her shawl on the ground, then crossed her legs. Her hand rubbed along her thigh as she breathed deeply, in and out. Her breath could be heard because of the speakers. She was probably wearing a microphone. Roger gasped as he saw what he couldn't believe. Her hand now went underneath her evening gown. Most probably down there! Roger wanted to close his eyes, but he also wanted to keep watching. He held his breath, tried to breathe. If only he could have a drink of water. He should've brought a bottle of water into the auditorium. Her head leaned back as her breathing quickened. Over to his left, his extreme left, past Jason, he heard a man's cry of orgasm. Roger wiped the sweat from his forehead. There was that smell of sex in the air. Pretty early, he thought, but pungent, stale, sweet, and delicious. She had a way of drawing it from the audience as her hand slithered in and out, in and out, until she too uttered a groan. In that groan, the rest of the audience was speechless. The groan seemed to last for five minutes but could've just been twenty seconds. The lights on the stage dimmed slightly. There was a hard boom which woke the audience up. They sat upright in their chairs. Roger sure did.

What the hell was that sound? They saw where the sound came from. Standing on stage was a man wearing a jean shirt and blue jeans. He had on cowboy boots and was hatless. The boots were what had made that sound because they made the same sound again and this time the audience saw the heels of his boots hit the floor of the stage. The man knelt on the stage in front of the kicked off high heels and brought one to his lips. He kissed it softly, smelled it, and put his other hand to what may have been a bulge in his pants. A gasp from the audience. He set the shoe down, stood up and took off his cowboy boots slowly. Allowing the sound of the zipper to resonate around the auditorium. The man had dark hair and when he ripped off his shirt, there was more dark hair on his chest. Roger could hear the girl in front of him. Her breathing was becoming shallow.

The man approached Ginger who was still seated on the bed. Ginger didn't look at the man, but kept her eyes on the audience as he pulled off his belt. Once pulled off he gave it a hard snap in the air, so the audience could hear the loud whipping sound it made. He folded the belt, shoved Ginger back roughly so she now lay on the bed.

"You have a hot body," said Ginger, her voice still heard on the speakers. Roger nodded his head, along with everyone else he thought. "Hope you'll be gentle with me."

"I'll be as gentle as my cock wants me to," he replied. He turned his back to the audience and they heard the sound of his zipper, unzipping. He flung himself onto Ginger and bucked, riding her as if she were a horse that needed to be broken.

"Fuck me, cowboy!" yelled Ginger.

An almost inaudible 'yes' was heard in the crowd.

Now the cowboy was on his back and Ginger was straddling him. She lifted her evening gown over her head and threw it to the side. The audience could see her back. Her back was white, soft, but erect as she now rode the cowboy.

"I'm gonna fuck you hard, cowboy," murmured Ginger. "Fuck you hard."

Roger squirmed in his seat, his throat already more than dry. He wanted to touch himself, but he wouldn't dare. He couldn't! That wouldn't be right, especially in a public place. He pretended he didn't hear Randy's breathing growing shorter.

Ginger was thrown off the bed and the audience gasped. The cowboy grabbed the belt and threw it out to the audience. Someone screamed. More from pleasure, probably from being able to catch the belt. The cowboy let his pants fall and finally kicked them off stage. His cock was erect like a loaded pistol and there was silence in the audience. Those who were getting themselves off took a small break to see what the cowboy would do. He grabbed Ginger and lifted her up. She was now standing and facing the audience while his back was to them. Ginger smirked as her body was planted against his, hard. The man's hands were now on her asscheeks as he pumped into her. Ginger's eyes tightening, tears falling down her cheeks as she whimpered. The man groaned, his breathing sounding like the panting of a dog in hot weather. His panting becoming quicker and quicker, Ginger's breathing matching his until finally he let out one big groan and Ginger screamed "Fuckin' cowboy, yes!" The man shoved her back lightly, then passed out on stage. Ginger smirked.

The lights went out and the audience started applauding. Roger joined in too. He admitted to himself, he did have a great time. The spotlight returned onto the stage. Ginger still stood there smirking as Manick came up behind her and draped a white gown on her shoulders. He covered her breasts with it, tied it together from behind, then put an arm around her and they bowed together. The lights in the auditorium lit up slightly. Randy blushed slightly as Roger glanced at him. He zipped up his pants.

The cowboy ran onto the stage wearing a similar white gown. He got on the other side of Manick and bowed slightly, then they all joined hands and bowed together.

"Thank you everyone!" cheered Manick after the round of applause. "The show isn't over yet though!" Manick let go of Ginger's hand and the cowboy's hand. "If I'm right, I believe we have a birthday."

Jason smiled. "Told you this will be good."

"What the hell?" asked Roger. "They're going to bring me a cake?"

Jason laughed. "You'll see."

Manick looked directly at Roger. "There he is, Ginger! There's the birthday boy himself! I believe he's wetting himself already!" Laughter from the audience. Manick put his hand in his suit jacket pocket then took out a piece of paper and looked at it. "Roger Donovan?"

"Raise your hand, Mr. Donovan," laughed the cowboy, "don't be shy."

Roger raised his hand slowly, then looked around at his friends. Thankfully, Randy looked presentable finally. His shirt was tucked back into his pants and his pants were closed. He decided not to wonder where the handkerchief was.

Ginger clasped her hands in front of her. "Well, good evening birthday boy! You stay right there, I'm coming."

Applause from the audience.

"Okay everyone!" cheered Manick waving his arms in the air. "Let's all sing happy birthday now as Ginger gives Mr. Donovan his birthday surprise and I was told this is his first time here, so it should definitely be a surprise!"

As Ginger walked off the stage and up to where Roger was seated, the chanting of "Happy Birthday" could be heard from everyone in the audience.

"Oh my god," said Randy with his mouth gaping, "she's coming this way!"

Once Ginger reached to where Randy was seated she raised her arm and then Manick stopped singing. He put his hands together and clapped. The audience joined in the clapping and the singing had ended. Ginger pushed past Randy and faced Roger smiling. Her right hand was in a fist.