Chapter 6
Nancy didn't have any idea where she was going when she brushed past the leering workmen and out onto the dusty Oakland street outside. What she did know was that she needed a drink, and her intuition told her that she wouldn't have far to go to find a bar in this part of town.
She was already in a lighter mood when she walked into the cocktail lounge off the lobby of the Grand Hotel. There were no conscious thought processes involved in the selection, she simply went in and slipped onto a stool at the end of the bar. The lounge, Kelly's Green Room, she supposed in honor of money, was dimly lighted, carpeted, plush and cozy, occupied mostly by men, probably conventioneers, she thought, but there were women, too, all paired off ... none alone like herself. She still felt curiously wild from her brief brush with fate, and knew that male eyes were following her. Wouldn't it be something if the bartender asked her for her ID to prove her age? She didn't look that young, of course, but wouldn't it be a kick? Indeed, she was feeling quite confident and made a point of letting her voluptuously curved buttocks hang over the rim of the cushioned stool, like a pouting lip.
With a broad seductive smile, the brunette mother ordered a Peach Brantly from the green-jacketed bartender and surveyed the room from the corners of her sexy grey eyes. She was sorry she hadn't taken the last stool in the corner. It would've given her greater command of the room. Presently, she was trying to utilize the back-bar mirror to scan the male faces, but it was only moderately effective with the array of bottles and shelving blocking it.
And then, as she worked her buttocks back a little further on the stool, a flash of masculine white teeth in the semi-darkness caught her eye in the mirror. They were handsome teeth, seemingly set in a deeply-tanned face, but she couldn't be sure with the subdued lighting. Anyway, the face was studying her, eyes locked on her back ... undoubtedly her buttocks and legs. She felt a little shiver of pleasure, as she lifted her drink and sipped. If only she dared turn around ... smile perhaps ... God, she didn't have to ... he was getting to his feet ... coming toward her now ... Jesus, what was she supposed to say?
"Hi, beautiful," the young man breathed, easing onto the stool beside her. "Waiting for somebody?"
"Nobody in particular," the young mother dimpled coquettishly, returning his pleasant smile. God, he's young, she thought with a slight shiver. He can't be much older than Bob ... and nearly as handsome.
"If you're here to audition," he quipped boldly, his eyes feasting on the enormity of her half-naked breasts, "you've got yourself a job!" He was still smiling, his flashing dark eyes moving to her sensuous pouting lips, reminding her that the soft indirect lighting would be playing there, causing an attractive jewel-like glitter against the thin layer of lip gloss. She wet them tantalizingly with the tip of her small tongue.
"Audition?" Nancy questioned innocently. "What audition?"
The young man's smile broadened. "This is a strip joint, lady," he winked. Then, sensing her confusion, he added quickly, "I'm Johnny Kelly, the owner's nephew and M. C. of this joint ... How does three bills a week sound to you?"
"T-Three hundred ... a week?" She was definitely flattered. "Uh, my name is Nancy, Mr.
Kelly ... Uh, Johnny ... W-Why don't you join me in a drink?"
"Nothing I'd like better, Nancy," he winked. "But, I've got a show to do right now. Stick around and watch if you like ... and tell Jim to put your drinks on my bill."
Nancy felt somewhat disappointed as she watched the smooth-talking young man glide off to greet a tableful of conventioneers with girls obviously much too young to be their wives, on his way to the tiny dance floor that doubled as a stage. God! she thought with a delightful shiver of excitement. He's not a day over twenty-five ... But, oh so attractive! She glanced at her own modest watch. It was still early ... Maybe she would stick around awhile ... Just to see what the show was like....
As the house lights dimmed their way to total darkness, a respondent hush fell over the audience. A blue spot light flashed on center stage, and the muted percussion of brush on drums began filtering over the speaker system, steadily picking up tempo. "And now, Ladies and Gentlemen," Johnny Kelly breathed heavily into the microphone, "Kelly's Green Room is proud to present our first act of the evening, the one and only, Patti Kake!"
The drum roll increased then, as a white strobe-light began to flash blindingly through the blue circle the overhead spot cast on the stage floor. Slowly, a lovely red-haired girl in her late twenties entered the room through a side door hidden by a black velvet curtain and mounted the steps to the stage.
She was wearing a shimmering white floor-length evening gown with a slit in the side that ran to mid-thigh. From the appreciative murmurs circulating through the audience, Nancy noted that the young woman had been handsomely received. Her rusty hair was plaited into a single rope-like braid that sprouted from the top of her head and ended between her shoulder blades. On her arms, she wore matching opera-length white gloves, while beneath the garter supported mesh of her stockings, she was pantyless.
Stopping at center stage, the rangy redhead turned her back to the anxious audience and bent slightly forward, rotating her slim hips lewdly in time to the music.
Teasingly, she began to hike the long skirt up her legs until the hem was at the juncture of her thighs. "All the way, Patti!" a faceless voice in the crowd was pleading, "Show us your foxy little ass!" Leaning forward still further, and drawing her legs together femininely, the girl gave the long skirt of her dress a quick flip, baring the luscious white moons of her buttocks completely in the harsh spotlight. Whistles and catcalls rifled through the diminutive lounge.
Patti straightened quickly then, careful not to show them too much for too long lest they lose interest in her act. "Show us your titties!" came a shout through the smoke-filled darkness. "Yeah, let's see some boobs!" came a second. There was an audible intaking of breath as she turned to face her audience straight on. A little smile began to play across her lips as she slowly unbuttoned the front of her dress. "You like it, don't you, you horny bastards!" she laughed into the microphone, knowing that even at that very moment, every cock in the house was lifting in salute to her. The lithe young redhead stood brazenly naked to the waist now, having let the upper portion of her dress slip from her shoulders to hang loosely about her waist, giving her naked breasts more sensual interest than had she been completely naked at that point.
"Play with 'em!" someone cried. In response, she fondled her conically lush, strawberrynippled breasts for her admiring audience, feeling a tremor of increased excitement herself. Nancy felt herself respond with a straddled gasp as the girl on stage squeezed and mauled over her own breasts with the practiced sensuality of a real pro, taking the points of her rapidly distending nipples between her thumbs and forefingers and pulling them outwards from her body with a twist, manipulating them into bizarre and fascinatingly wicked shapes.
Then, raising one deliciously molded pap to her face, the girl's darting pink tongue flickered out to lap at the puckered tip of her nipple, then swirled in tiny concentric circles to engulf the entire puffy areola and a good portion of milk-white breast flesh in her mouth and began to suck with earnest contentment. Her eyes closed in passion then, and then reopened to flutter trampishly at her audience as she continued to maul and lick her nipples. Below, her hips began to swing forward freely in a lewd parody of fucking. "All the way!" someone called out in the darkness. "All the way! ... All the way...!" several other voices chorused. With a trained flick of her hips, the redhead's shimmering white gown slipped the remaining distance to the floor.
Except for the long white gloves, opera hose, and high heels, she was completely naked. "That's gonna be some tough act to follow, huh, lady?"
Nancy, somewhat startled at the sound of a human voice at that moment, shot a glance over her shoulder at the bartender who was standing directly behind her with a fresh drink. "Huh? ... Oh, yeah!"
Nancy watched as the girl wound her act to a swift conclusion, then gathered her fallen garments and disappear through the same door from which she had entered. "Whew!" the young mother gasped.
"Personally, I prefer brunettes," the bartender commented. "So does Johnny ... Here, he asked me to give you this."
Cautiously, with a sidelong glance down the length of the bar to see if anyone was watching, Nancy reached out to accept a neatly halved cocktail napkin from the barman's extended fingers. Opening the hastily penned note and turning it slightly towards the pale reflected light coming from the backboard, she read: Hey, Gorgeous, I'm working the day shift today and I'll be off at seven. Stick around and we'll go to dinner.
Johnny Nancy felt her cheeks flush hotly at the prospect of letting herself get picked up by a man nearly young enough to be her son. But then, she shrugged, why not? ... After what I've seen today, what difference could it make? She took a long thoughtful sip of her freshened Peach Brantly and smiled warmly at the knowing barman. "Tell Johnny I'll wait," she announced with a shimmering toss of her long brown hair.
Judy Greenwell didn't know for sure if it really had been her mother-in-law she'd seen leaving The Silver Goose at a dead-run, but if it wasn't, then Bob's mom had a twin sister running around loose in Oakland. But how? she wondered, unless she'd followed her to the club ... And had Gerald really been telling the truth about her looking for a job there? In any case, she knew what she had to do, and could only hope that Bob got back to the apartment before his mother did. Somehow, she'd have to screw up the courage to tell him of her little escapade herself ... before Nancy got the chance.
It was dumb what she'd done, and she knew it. But, damnit, a girl had a right to a little fun from time to time, didn't she? She loved Bob more than anything, job or no job, and didn't want to lose him over a lousy few inches of stiff prick. Maybe her total honesty and her feminine wiles would do the trick. Anyway, she hoped so. And, carrying his child wouldn't hurt either.
Quickly then, her mind bent on her singularity of purpose, Judy moved to the bathroom to freshen up in anticipation of her husband's hopefully early arrival. Her plan was a simple one; she would seduce her handsome young Bob Greenwell wait until his climax was hanging in that delicious balance between heaven and hell and then hit him with all the gory details of her infidelity while they were still fresh in her memory. Hell, who knows ... it might even be fan', , The needle spray of the shower felt good against her sensuously aroused flesh, and as Judy soaped her generous milk-filled breasts into a creamy lather she lingered delightfully overlong at the tips, her long pink-lacquered nails scratching and pinching at her distended pregnant nipples with near-masochistic abandon. There was no denying what she knew to be the truth; she'd loved every lewd second she'd spent in her former employer's office ... and she'd probably do it again. Not just with Gerald, either.
"
"Judy ... Mom? ... anybody home?"
Nancy was just finishing her fourth Peach Brantly when the last of several strippers, a lissome young black girl by the name of Cherry Chocolate, shrugged out of her sequined G-string and beat a hasty retreat through the side door. It was seven straight up, and before she had a chance to mull over the situation with lady-like deliberation, Johnny Kelly had swept down on the stool beside her like an avenging hawk.
"Hi, Nancy," the handsome young M.C. smiled, his perfect white teeth brightening that corner of the club. "How'd you like the show?" Nancy managed a brazen smile as she breathed an honest, "Well, it was interesting!" into the bowl of her glass.
"Hungry?" Nancy set her glass down on a little shamrock-shaped coaster and shook her head. "Not really, Johnny," she said. "Me either," Kelly responded. "Why don't we just skip dinner and take in a show?"
"I'm sorry, but "
"Hey, you're not chicken, are you, dollface?"
"No ... It's just that ... Well, okay. What kind of show?" Johnny's dazzling smile flashed again. "Sexier than the one you just saw. It's a private little club I know. Think you can stand it?"
Nancy mulled it over thoughtfully for a moment, her mind reflecting back on the rapid changes her life had undertaken within the past forty-eight hours; moving from Minnesota, discovering her daughter-in-law was nothing but a common tramp, and now ... now she was about to go to a dirty floor show with a man nearly young enough to be her son. "I can't stand it," she announced at last, "let me make a call first.