Off Campus 04 Pt. 03

As I approach the table I get "the look" from Cheyenne. I subtly nod twice. She smiles. Our work is done.

"Cheyenne?" I prompt. "You're falling out."

"Oops!" as she adjusts her skimpy top to cover the exposed breast. Cyan chuckles in having scored a point.

I look to Amber.

"That gown becomes you," I flatter.

"I know. I really like it. Is there any way we can make it a little less... uh... 'public'?"

Everybody laughs. Yeah, being closed only at the top there is little left to the imagination if she doesn't hold it shut.

"Not at this moment!" I leer. "Scoot over!"

Amber slides to let me in. Ally follows.

"You're about to find out the truth about our table here," Ally warns Amber.

Now underneath the table, I "adjust" my pants.

"Lift up," I say to Amber. "Sit in my lap," as I pull her gown aside to enter her.

"Oooooo! Now I understand! Mmmmm! Steven!" as she presses into our coitus. "Evil! You guys are absolutely nuts! I love it!"

Ally giggles, "This has been 'the fuck table' for decades, sweetie! We're just the most recent. Right, Jess?"

"Ha!" Jess snorts and then laughs. Her introduction -- I daresay "induction" -- to our fun group was right here, unceremoniously lifting her skirt and plopping herself down into the laps and onto the cocks of myself and then Phil, interrupting our supposedly surreptitious fucks with our other ladies.

"I see that, Miss Amber! You too, Mr. Albertson!" Elliott chuckles. "Shame! Ally know about this? Cyan?" as his chuckle morphs into a giddy laugh.

Elliott is our new full-time bartender. He's a real character, has a fabulous sense of humor, and, admittedly, is a bit of a flamer. He loves the girls, he loves the special relationships within The Gang, and he is great, great fun to have around. Elliott somehow understood what we were all about the first day on board. We hired well, we think. Just a super fit for The Spirit, and for us.

"Congratulations, Amber!" Elliott gushes. "Congratulations, all of you! Mr. Albertson, you certainly have your work cut out for you!"

I swell-up with pride, "Yes I do, Elliott! Isn't it wonderful?"

"Sooooo jealous! You ladies and gentlemen having your usual?"

"Champagne, El! The good stuff! Time to celebrate! Let's break out those new flutes!" I joyously request.

Ally, Cyan and I had been going around and around on The Spirit's logo design and how it would work, or wouldn't, on the bar glassware. The champagne flutes were the last order to make it through the engraving process, so this will be their premier.

Elliott questions, "Everybody else is here, so where's Hannah? Do I set out a glass for her?"

"She's pregnant," responds a choir of ladies at the table, but not including the one in my... uh... "lap".

"Oh, dear!" El recoils.

"She's on her way to take care of it," somebody breaks in.

"Fuck. Just fuck," I mumble. Cheyenne is visibly shaking her head in a vain attempt to shut them up.

I have to answer this, "Girls... ladies... all of you. You, too, Elliott. This can't be discussed. Seriously. Not here. There's that new law shitting on everything and everybody. Right, Cheyenne?"

"Yep."

I lean in and continue, quietly, "If somebody overhears and wants to cash-in, she could easily be stopped before she leaves the state. I could be in trouble even for talking to her about it. I know you're all concerned, and I'm really concerned. One of you is in distress, which always worries me. If any of you have questions, talk to me in private. Okay?"

Directed at me are four pouting lower lips. Obviously, Cheyenne knows exactly what I'm talking about, and my Amber has been there herself and knows to keep everything under wraps. I am counting my lucky stars that two out of the three women in my life who can become pregnant are fully versed in the broader consequences, and the third is learning about it the hard way.

"(Thank you, sweetheart. Of course I know you know,)" I whisper into Amber's ear. She wiggles to turn around in my lap to give me an appreciative and reassuring kiss.

"Okay, enough of that," I announce. "El, pop the cork!"

[...pop!...] and then "OW!" from across the barroom. Oops.

"Sorry!" Elliott calls across to the unwitting patron caught in the crossfire. He pours a glass and runs it over to him, "Here! Have some champagne! On the house!"

It's accepted with a smile, a subtle headshake, and a chuckle.

"Good luck, to whoever it is!" the patron offers, raising his glass.

Oh, if he only knew.

Elliott pours and passes the flutes to our gaggle at the table, pouring one for himself.

"Congratulations, Amber!" I toast. "Congratulations to us all!"

A few sips later, "Uhhhhh... Steven?" Cyan prompts.

"Yes, dear?"

"Typo!"

Oh, gawd. Cyan proofreads everything.

"What now?" is my sighing retort.

"Look closely. Spirit. 'S P I R T'."

A slight pause as everyone checks their own glass. Then the laughter starts.

"Well that's just great," as I roll my eyes. "Hopefully everybody who happens to use the flutes will get the joke, too, 'cause I'm not replacin' 'em!"

More laughter. I grimace. Which induces yet more laughter. The girls love it when something goofy happens at my expense. Keeps me in my place, I guess.

The giggles die down and I'm being smothered in kisses. Worse things can happen, you know.

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