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Chapter 5- She smells Sex and Brandy

                The elevator dinged when it reached the one hundred and forty-ninth floor. Someone had pocketed Tio’s money, not that she gave a fuck. These elevators were used by club staff only, and when Amberleigh stepped off she ran into a bouncer at the entrance to the ballroom. VIPs were escorted up here by an elevator operator, as not just anyone had access to this level.

She recognized the dude guarding the door. Ki was his name, and he wasn’t the talking or fucking sort unfortunately. He was fine though, with skin like dark chocolate she longed to taste, hair in tight and tidy corn rows, and the just the right amount of muscle. Ki wore a wedding band on his finger and had a daughter. His wife must have been gorgeous, and the Cobra Club paid well. It was nice to see monogamy and closed marriages still existed.

But Ki let her in through the barrier no questions asked, another perk of being a club favorite. She immediately began to scope the place out. The ballroom up here was fancier, like a fuckin palace with legit murals painted on the ceiling, golden pillars, and a heated black marble floor so shiny you could see your own reflection. One entire wall held a serenity waterfall cascading peacefully and seemingly disappearing beneath the floor. There was also a huge ass mini ocean with all kinds of rare and expensive as fuck sea creatures in there.

Modern glass tables, a variety of expensive couches, and even private alcoves with curtains you could drawl shut for privacy. A hibachi grill with a sushi chef, fondue, and a buffet with foods from all-over the world to suit every taste. Enough food to feed the Fringe for a week.

Who could forget the glass ice sculptures of people fucking in various positions, the screens around the room casting the dancing shadows of naked Goddesses and Pages behind them, and the variety of swings, silk ropes, and hoops suspended from the ceiling with naked women and men swaying in time to the music.

There was no bar counter on this level. No, VIPS were not going to have to wait or walk up to a bar for service. Staff wearing g-strings and pasties over their nipples came to them and gave them personal attention. The room was mostly filled with men of all ages and nationalities, but was also sprinkled with women here and there. All dressed in designer clothes and draped in expensive jewelry, and in various states ranging from mostly sober, to call a fuckin ambulance for that man dying of alcohol poisoning on the white leather couch over there.  It was a good thing the couches were easy to clean.

It smelled like sex and brandy up in this bitch. And scotch and bourbon, and all the other nasty alcohol rich men liked. Amberleigh never got the appeal of drinks that tasted like kerosene and cat piss. Whatever happened to just cheap beer and boxed wine, the classics from her childhood? You could get hammered and not need to take out a fuckin loan to do it. And this club was also guilty of overpriced drinks. Really, what ever had happened to good old fashioned values?

Amberleigh began to work the room. She mingled, rubbed her manicured red nails across some shoulders, gave some sultry looks. Danced with another Goddess, up against her body, as an old businessman was feeling it. He commanded them to kiss. The customer is always right after all. Customer satisfaction. Amberleigh vaguely knew this Goddess but couldn’t recall her name. Regardless it didn’t stop her from putting her tongue into the Asian beauties mouth.

The old man was into it. And Amberleigh would have bet her lucky stars he would choose them both for a private show, or into an alcove. Hell even Amberleigh was getting turned on as the other Goddess sucked and kissed down her neck. The man sat his drink on the table and got to his feet. He swaggered over in that way rich man offen did and handed the Asian Goddess a golden egg. He led her by the hand towards an alcove. Well that was rude! What the fuck!

 Amberleigh moved on to another target, wishing for that ten wasted minutes of her life back. She bent over to pick up a marks phone when his drunk ass dropped it.  She gave him a nice view of her thong clad ass but quickly realized her mistake by the way he was salivating over a Page dancing near a golden column. She moved on with a sigh. Damn, strike fuckin three of the night.

She would be on shift in a couple hours and if she didn’t find a taker soon, she would have to scrap this fuckin mission. Miss out on a generous tip. And listen to Ebony brag all damn night long! She gazed at her reflection in the mirror, was she already getting old and washed up at the age of twenty-two? She certainly couldn’t compete with the gorgeous Asian chicks in the room, but damn, in a room of drunk fuckers, she was usually at the top of her game!

She decided to just do herself for a bit. Have some fuckin fun, and maybe a mark would come to her. So for a while, she let herself feel the music and danced like no one else was in that fuckin room. Sweat began to pool in the cervices and dips of her body. She lifted her long hair up off her neck, closed her eyes, and let her body do all the talking.

And it wasn’t before too long before she felt a tap on her shoulder. A Page was standing there holding an envelope in his hand. Amberleigh smiled as she read the contents and held the golden egg in her palm. Senator Berkshire requests your presence in his private suite. Please see second page for specific list of instructions.

She skimmed the second page. Thank God the Senator wasn’t into weird fetishes. Ebony had gotten pissed on once and bitched about it forever afterwards. Luckily most patrons knew the rules, and that fetishes involving body fluids were restricted to only one floor only. It took a special kind of Page and Goddesses for that kind of nasty shit.

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