Pretty Baby Ch. 02byslyc_willie©
The die has been cast.
Part Two: A Barrier Breached
"Alyssa! You got another call party."
I smiled at Sandy, the busty hostess, as I stood talking with a few of my fellow servers in the kitchen at the restaurant. "Thanks. I'll be right there."
"Hey, what gives, Alyssa?" asked Joe, one of the guys who had always flirted with me. He was a good-looking guy, five or six years older than me, and under any other circumstances I might have considered going out with him. "You've been getting more call parties in the last couple of weeks than anyone else gets all year."
I shrugged innocently. "Guess people just like me," I said, and headed out to greet my new table.
Since Gary had agreed to help me find the lucky guy to pop me, I had been getting a lot of men coming in to the restaurant, asking for me as their server. It was Gary's idea to let them know where I worked, so they could meet me and get a look at me without being obvious about it. I was nervous about it at first, but realized it was a good idea.
Some of my 'call parties' -- guests who ask for a server by name -- I recognized from my Sunday afternoon blow bangs. They flirted and chatted with me, asking me questions about myself. Gary had stipulated that none of the men who came to see me would mention the auction, but it was always on their minds, I could tell . . . as well as on mine.
For the duration of the bidding, I had decided not to see any of my regular tricks. I didn't even blow Gary, much as he wanted me to. I wanted to be hot as hell the night I lost my virginity. But after three weeks without cock, I was getting pretty damn itchy. I told Gary I wanted the bidding closed soon. I was so fucking horny I couldn't stand it!
I pranced out to the dining room, anticipating my latest admirer. I was surprised to find a table of three: an older man, tall and good-looking with bright silver hair cut short, a woman about forty or so, stately and elegant, and a very pretty teenaged girl I figured was my age. My thought that I was meeting one of the men who were bidding to be my first faded. I figured I had a real call-party, someone I had waited on before.
"Hi. My name's Alyssa, and I'll be your server tonight. Would you like to hear about our features?"
The silver-haired man -- damn, he was gorgeous! I figured his hair had started turning grey at a young age, because the rest of him didn't look that much older than Gary -- gave me a soft smile, his eyes drinking me in briefly. "Hello, Alyssa," he said in a smooth voice. "You waited on me a couple of weeks ago, you remember?"
The way he said that . . . I caught on right away. I knew I had never seen this man before in my life. I sure as hell would have remembered those dark, commanding eyes, that square jaw, that velveteen voice. But I pretended I did, realizing that this man was one of those bidding to be my first. And how deliciously naughty it was that he had brought along his wife and daughter!
"Oh, yeah," I said, pretending to remember. "You were having a business lunch with . . . oh, what was his name?"
He chuckled, crow's feet wrinkling at the corners of his eyes. "Gary Jackson," he said, then offered his hand. "And I'm Ian, in case you forgot. Ian Holloway. This is my wife, Rebecca, and my daughter, Erin."
"Nice to meet you," I said. Ian's wife and daughter both smiled amiably, shook my hand.
"Ian says you give wonderful service," remarked Rebecca.
I glanced to Ian a moment with a smile, imagining the 'service' I would love to give him. "I do my best," I said. Damn, just looking at him was making me wet! I had never met a man with such natural charisma, such charm and presence. I got the immediate impression he was used to getting what he wanted.
And I suddenly hoped I was what he wanted.
"So," I said buoyantly. "Are we gonna start off with some wine tonight?"
I made sure to take care of my other tables, but my focus was definitely on Ian while he was there. His wife was a funny, intelligent woman who asked me a lot of questions about my life. Where I had grown up, what my major was in college, stuff like that. I got the impression that Ian had brought along his family to make it easier for him to learn about me without being obvious as to why he was there. I found the whole situation delightfully kinky.
Erin, Ian's daughter, was a year older than I and very pretty. Hell, she was gorgeous, and I knew that most of the male servers were checking her out. She and I talked a little bit, and I got the idea that we could be friends if the opportunity came up. She was in college, too, although a year ahead of me, and we both knew some of the same professors.
All throughout the meal, however, I caught Ian's eyes on me now and then, surreptitiously checking me out, assessing me. I flirted with him professionally, as I always did with my male guests, but all the while I was thinking, this man might actually be the one I'll be having sex with for the first time.
And of all the men I had thus far met, Ian was the only one I truly wanted. My pussy was dripping all night as I imagined feeling him pushing inside me, taking me for the first time. I somehow knew he would make it special for me.
Toward the end of their meal, as the restaurant was thinning out, I happened to catch Ian getting up from the table to head to the bathroom. He caught my eye, and without having to wink or nod or do anything like that, somehow indicated that I should follow. I did, eagerly, but without being too obvious.
I met him in the little hall toward the back of the restaurant, out of sight of the other guests. He was, indeed, a tall man, a couple of inches over six feet, I guessed. In his dark slacks and pin-striped shirt, he showed off a well-toned body. My panties were soaked as I stood before him.
"I've heard a lot about you, Alyssa," he said to me, smiling kindly.
"I bet." I was captivated by his eyes. Oh, how I wanted him!
"Is everything they say true?"
I smiled flirtatiously. "Probably."
Ian smiled, licking his lips slowly. My legs quivered. I wanted to taste those lips so bad! I wanted to taste every inch of his body, over and over and over . . . .
"I know we're not supposed to talk about it," he said. "But I've always made my own rules. That's how I became so successful in business."
I didn't doubt it. Ian was a man, I felt, who took charge, did things his own way.
"I assume the bidding is going to close soon," he said. "I was reluctant to get involved at first, but after hearing about you, I decided to come see what all the fuss is about. I wish I had come sooner."
I bit my lip. "Did you . . . place a bid?" I asked hopefully.
He smiled, touched my face. His hand was warm and firm. I pressed my cheek against it.
"No," he said. "But I will, if you want me to."
I stared into his eyes. "I want you to," I whispered.
Ian didn't say anything more. He just smiled, took his hand away, and headed into the bathroom. And I was left so weak in the knees that I almost collapsed right there.
"Alyssa. Hey, baby, what's—"
I cut Gary off as I paced on the back dock of the restaurant, smoking a cigarette. It had been about an hour since Ian and his family left, leaving me a fat tip. I clutched my cell close to my ear so I could hear over the drone of the air conditioning vents. "Who's Ian Holloway?" I asked.
Gary was quiet a moment on the other end. "Ian . . . Holloway?" he asked carefully.
"Yeah. Who is he?"
"He's uh, he's the president of a technology company that's trying to buy us out. Why?"
"He came in to see me tonight. He said he's gonna bid."
"What? How the hell does he know about this?"
I frowned, pulling on my cigarette. "What do you mean? You didn't send him?"
"Of course not! Jesus Christ, if he knows . . . ."
"What's wrong, Gary?"
"'What's wrong?'" he snapped. "I'll tell you what's wrong! Holloway's company is trying to buy us out. It's kind of like a hostile takeover. If he knows about this . . . about you . . . he might know what's been going on every Sunday. And he might use that as leverage against us . . . against me."
"Gary, calm down," I said. "I don't think it's like that."
"Alyssa, honey, no offense, but you don't know that much about business. I do. Holloway might be using you to take over the company. Damn it!"
"Are you saying you're not gonna let him bid?" I asked, actually dreading the possibility.
Gary was silent. I heard faint taping in the background. I figured he was on his computer. "No, I'm not gonna do that," he said. "That would tip him off, and it might make him mad. Hell, if he bids, then . . . ."
"Gary, what is it?"
"I just checked the recent bids on the bulletin board I set up on line," he explained. "The highest bid as of this morning was from Saul, for $5,150. Don't know how he would swing that. Must be taking out a loan."
I gasped. That much? Just to fuck me?
"But a new bid was just posted. And I mean, just now. Like . . . eight minutes ago."
Gary sighed. "The user name is 'Ianmyway.' Son of a bitch."
"Gary," I said. "What's the bid?"
He sighed again. "Twenty-five thousand dollars."
I dropped my phone.
I was shaking as I left work. Gary arrived to pick me up, and said nothing as I got in the car with him. He lit a cigarette, passed it to me, and I took it with twitching fingers.
Twenty-five thousand dollars, I thought. The amount was ridiculous. That much money? Just to have sex with a virgin? There has to be more to it than that. What does Mr. Ian Holloway want from me? A sex slave? A mistress? Use me to blackmail Gary's company? What?
I instantly had the feeling that I was involved in something way over my head.
"He's overwhelming the competition," Gary said as he drove. His knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel. "Holloway obviously knows who's been bidding. I don't know how he does, but he knows, and he's locking everyone else out. He knows no one can match that bid."
"So what's gonna happen?"
Gary gave me a dark look. "You're gonna lose your virginity to a shark, that's what's gonna happen."
I was suddenly afraid. Ian had turned me on, and I wanted him, but now I wondered just what he wanted from me. Morbid fantasies of being a sex slave, fucking business clients as Ian watched, filled my mind. That wasn't what I wanted. I didn't want to be owned.
"Close the bidding, Gary," I said. "Do it tonight."
He chuckled ruefully. "That's sort of like closing the barn door after the horse got out," he said. "No one's gonna meet Holloway's bid. Whatever happens now, is up to you and him."
I swallowed nervously. What the hell have I gotten into?
As Gary had predicted, by Monday, when the bidding officially closed, 'Ianmyway's' bid remained the highest. No one had even bothered to post after seeing that astronomical sum. Gary called me that morning, as I was heading across campus to my first class.
"It's up to you, babe," he said. "This isn't an enforceable contract, since, technically, it's prostitution. Holloway can't sue you. You can take Saul's bid if you want."
I grimaced. I liked Saul; he was a nice guy. But he sweated a lot and on the two occasions he had joined in the blow bangs, he always came too fast and took a long time to recover. I really didn't want to lose my virginity to a sweaty fat man with premature ejaculation problems.
"But if I don't take Ian's bid . . . ."
Gary sighed into the phone. "An auditor arrived this morning, sent by Holloway as part of his 'assessment' before the actual buyout goes official. The auditor's been looking into everyone's accounts."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that people might start asking why twenty-three men in my department have each paid me a hundred dollars," he said ominously. "Some of them more than once. If this goes too far, Alyssa, the police might get involved. We might both be looking at charges of solicitation."
I stopped in my tracks, a feeling of dread falling over me like a shroud. "Oh, God."
"Now, don't freak out, Alyssa—"
"Easy for you to say!" I blurted. "You're not the one who's being used to fuck over a whole company!"
"I don't think that's what Holloway's doing," said Gary. "I think he's just providing a little . . . insurance."
"To make sure I go through with it."
"Yeah. Think so."
"So what now?"
"Now . . . I make the transfer, confirm that Holloway can pay the amount -- and he can, believe me -- and then I give him your phone number. What happens then is up to you."
I huffed, sitting on a wooden bench beneath a tree on the edge of campus. "You know, when he came in to see me, he seemed so nice, like . . . like—"
"Yeah, I know. That's the way he is. Everyone calls him the 'Godfather' because he'll take you under his wing and he treats everyone like family. But piss him off and he sends out the hit squad."
I gasped. "Oh, Jesus!"
"Calm down. I didn't mean that literally. You're not gonna get hurt if you back out."
"But I will go to jail," I said in a shaking voice.
"Look, chances are—"
"Give him my number," I said.
". . . are you sure?"
"Just do it, Gary. Like you said, what happens now is up to me."
My phone buzzed a few times during the day, and every time I answered it, I feared -- or anticipated -- that it would be Ian. But it never was. Just friends calling to say high, or someone from work wanting to switch shifts.
I thought about Ian. The image I had from our one and only meeting was of a cool, confident older man, a man who knew what he wanted and how to get it. I saw him as being direct, for the most part, and tactful. I had a hard time picturing the ruthless shark Gary painted him to be. But Gary knew Ian better than I did; at the least, he knew a hell of a lot more about Ian's business practices than I did.
I was conflicted in my emotions. I wasn't sure if the Ian I met, with his confidence and sexy demeanor and gorgeous dark eyes was really Ian at all, or just a front he had put on for my benefit. After all, what kind of man would introduce his wife and daughter to the girl he intended to deflower?
I had switched with another server that night, an older woman named Joan who wanted a night out with her new boyfriend. She had agreed to work my Thursday night shift in exchange. I was glad to work; it helped me take my mind off Ian.
Or so I thought.
"Hey, Alyssa, that cute older guy is here again," Sandy the hostess said to me as I was refilling sodas at the beverage station. "He's waiting up front."
I stiffened a little and almost dropped the glass I was holding. I knew exactly who Sandy meant. And so did Katie, standing next to me.
"'Cute older guy?'" she echoed with a sly grin.
I blushed. "H-he's just a regular," I said, trying to play it off. "He came in with his wife and daughter one night—"
"Yeah, I know," said Katie. "I was working that night, too. I also happened to notice you and Mr. Cute Older Guy sneak off to the bathroom for a few minutes. So what do you get from him, huh?"
I felt shaky. "Wh-what do you mean?"
Katie rolled her eyes. "Please," she said patronizingly. "You might think you're being slick, but I've heard about the 'blow job girl.' My friend Lee works at the music store. He says you go in there all the time to see Doug. You always walk out with a couple of CDs and Doug's always got this big grin on his face."
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, setting my drinks on a tray.
"No?" she asked with a little laugh. "Well, what about that guy at the bed and bath store? Or that black guy at the shoe store? I've seen you, Alyssa, and I'm not the only one."
My face felt hot. "S-seen what?"
Katie laughed and touched my shoulder, leaning close. I felt her breath in my ear. "Do you really swallow every time?" she asked.
I shuddered, both from embarrassment and arousal. "K-Katie—"
"Hey, I'm not gonna tell no one," she said. "I think it's hot. I just wanna know: do you always swallow? Huh? Do you like swallowing cum, Alyssa?"
I pushed away from the beverage station, giving Katie a furtive look. "I g-gotta . . . my tables need me." I took up my tray and headed back out to the dining room, my heart fluttering in my chest. I didn't need Katie's bullshit right now. I had other things to worry about.
I dropped off the drink refills, checked on my other tables, then headed up front. Eight o'clock on a Monday, the lobby was empty except for Sandy, standing behind the host stand, talking and flirting openly with him.
Damn . . . he looked even better than the first time I had seen him. He wore faded designer jeans that seemed molded to his muscular legs without being too tight, and a black blazer over a pale yellow button-down shirt. The manly aroma of his cologne seemed to snake out toward me, touching me in all my erogenous zones at once. His short silver hair was combed back, with a little Superman curl on his forehead.
"Oh," said Sandy, looking disappointed as she saw me. "Here she is."
Ian turned toward me, smiling in that suave, confident way of his. His dark eyes caught the light of the tiki-style lamps that flanked the front doors of the lobby. I couldn't help but be aroused in Ian's presence, especially considering that he was soon to be my first real lover.
"Hello again, Alyssa," he said, his eyes settling on my own. "I just happened to be in the area, and decided to stop in."
I couldn't tear my eyes from his. "Sandy," I said. "I think one of the managers was looking for you."
"Oh, really? Well, they usually just buzz me up here—"
"Oh . . . rrright. Um, think I'll go see what they want," Sandy said, and stepped away. Ian gave me an amused look.
"What do you want?" I asked him.
His confidence didn't waver in the slightest. "I'd think that would be obvious, Alyssa," he said. "After all, I did have the winning bid."
I paled, jerking my head away and looking down at the floor. "T-tonight?" I asked, blinking profusely. "I-I'm not ready."
Ian chuckled again and stepped closer. He slipped a finger under my chin, tilting my head back up. I was so docile before him. "No, not tonight," he said. "It's too late for all the preparations."
I frowned, swallowing nervously. "What 'preparations?'" I asked.
"Have you forgotten?" he asked, and reached into his jacket. He pulled out a slip of paper, unfolded it. It was an Internet printout from the bulletin board Gary had set up. "'One dozen fresh red roses, a bottle of champagne, limousine ride, semi-formal dinner, hotel suite, candles and soft music.' That's quite a list of stipulations, Alyssa."
I was held captive by his eyes. "I just want it to be special," I said.
He smiled warmly. "It will be," he said. "When is your next day off?"
I breathed in, more than aware of the moistness between my legs. "Th-Thursday," I said, my voice barely more than a whisper.
Ian graced my chin again with his fingers. "Thursday it is, then," he said. "Be ready for me."
I trembled with desire. "I am," I said, then blushed. "I mean, I-I will."
Ian bent, bringing his face closer, soft lips parting. I whimpered in anticipation of that first kiss. I moaned passionately into his mouth, sucking tenderly on his lips as he did the same. He didn't force his tongue into my mouth; it was more like a gentle probing, a tasting. My body shook and my pussy spasmed. I shuddered quietly as a soft orgasm rolled through me, rubbing my body against his. Ian held me close, kissing my neck and ears as my aftershocks faded.
"I'll see you Thursday," he said, stepping away and opening the door.
"Yeah," I responded, heavy-eyed and breathless. I squirmed on my feet. My panties were heavy with wetness, sticking to my pussy and riding between the cheeks of my butt. I watched Ian leave, staring after him like a worshipper as Eros departed the temple.