“Welcome to the Chakra Club. Sir, you can check your piece with the coat-check girl,” the big doorman told Walter. Walter frowned but nodded. In situations where he didn’t know the lay of the land, I knew he always liked having the.454 on him; but this was being organized by our wives, so how dangerous could it be?
We walked in, Walter checked his handgun, then we walked into the main bar area. A half a dozen young and attractive women were milling about in nothing but thongs, bras, and stiletto heels. We were approached by a couple of them but politely demurred, apologizing that they weren’t our type.
Again following the instructions we’d been left, I asked one of the girls where I could find ‘Tommy’, and she pointed me to a small man with a brown ponytail watching from a table in one corner towards the rear.
I walked up and asked, “Tommy?”
He looked up at my partner and I. “Who’s asking?”
Walter rumbled, “Walter Connor and Tom McFarland. We were told to ask for you. We have, um, special reservations.”
“Ah, yes, Walter and Tom. I was told to expect you. FYI, there’s a club surcharge for the special services you require. That will be $100, please.” He held out his hand, and I pressed a $100 bill in it. He smiled at me, then looked at Walter. “Each.”
Walter frowned, and pulled out his wallet, and paid Tommy the fee, muttering, “This better be good.”
Since selling our consulting business we both had plenty of money, but Walter had grown up penniless and loathed spending money, unless it was on my wife’s sister. At age 50 he’d met Dotty, and she gave him the love and family he’d always wanted.
As much of a tightwad as he could be, my brother-in-law would willingly spend his last dime before ever denying his woman anything. He was as crazy about his wife as I was about mine. There was just something about those green-eyed Terhune family women that made them irresistible.
The ponytailed dude got up from the table and stood upright, as if insulted by Walter’s comment. “I assure you, sir, the Chakra Club’s entertainment offerings are of the highest caliber. All our hostesses are beautiful, intelligent, talented, and free of disease. For this evening, your hostesses are Angel and Destiny. They’ve just flown in from New York City, where they’re always in very high demand. Follow me.”
Uh-oh. When Walter and I had sold our business to a national conglomerate, we’d taken Laura and Dotty to New York. While Walter and I were finalizing the deal in New Jersey, the two sisters promptly dyed their hair, dressed up like two New York City hookers – Angel and Destiny – and proceeded to screw our brains out. (The role-play was our daughter-in-law Melissa’s suggestion, and I’d always be grateful to her for it!)
If this thing involved Angel and Destiny, we were in for some wild stuff. Tommy led us through a dark archway and into the back, where I spotted a small sign on the wall that read “VIP Area — Reserved”.
Tommy opened a door, and gestured, “Here you are, gentlemen. Enjoy your show.”
It was a good-sized room, about 20 feet by 24 feet. Inside the dimly-lit room was a small stage against one wall, two wooden armchairs facing it. The chairs were side-by-side, about three feet apart and bolted to the floor. Walter and I sat down. The room was warm and very humid, almost to the point of being uncomfortable; I could feel the sweat forming in the small of my back and under my arms. My antiperspirant was fighting a losing battle.
On one of the side walls was a curtained entrance. The doorman from the front of the club emerged from it carrying what looked like four sheepskin covered wrist restraints. He explained, “Gentlemen, club roles don’t allow touching the hostesses. We had some difficulty with a bachelor party that got out of hand last night, so the management has requested all clients be restrained during the show. Please sit with your arms on the armrests so I can secure you. Once I finish, the entertainment will commence.”
Walter sputtered, “This is bullshit,” but complied anyway. It only took a few seconds for the doorman to put the wrist restraints on us, and he was gone. I was both excited and amused, and laughingly remarked to Walter, “This must be what a butterfly feels like after a collector pins it to a board.”
Music — some new-age Enya stuff – began playing softly, then two figures walked out of the side entrance. Angel and Destiny had arrived. Instead of dyed hair like they had in New York, this time they were wearing cheap blonde wigs. Both were wearing yellow bras a size too small, making their tits overflow temptingly. In addition, they wore waist-high black fishnet tights and crazy five-inch red platform heels. Even their outrageous makeup was gaudy: strips of heavy black, blue, and green sparkly eye shadow, and slutty red lipstick. Oh, and each wore a 24-karat gold ankle chain with a small nametag on it, custom-made by Sednicki Jewelers. Sluttiness with class, nice…
Angel smiled and said, “Hello, boys, good to see you again.” She turned towards me and bent over, giving me a nice view as she shook her sweet ass, her cheeks seductively split by seam in her tights.
“Sorry about the restraints, boys, but rules are rules,” Destiny apologized, “thanks to those grabby bachelors, tonight we’re in control.” She took out a pair of scissors. “You look warm in those shirts, let me take care of them for you.” Before Walter knew it, his dress shirt was shredded, exposing his chest. My eyes got wide when I spotted an 8″ knife scar; something he must have gotten while working for Quiet Sal.
“That was a silk shirt, dammit,” he complained. Destiny planted her lips on his and shoved her tongue in his mouth, which immediately shut him up. Taking the scissors, Angel quickly gave my polo shirt – and my lips – the same treatment.
I decided to have some fun and play along. “How are we supposed to explain this to our wives?”
Angel held one finger up to my lips, the other caressing my dick through my pants. “Aren’t you the talky one tonight? I guess you boys will have to buy a souvenir t-shirt from the club before you leave. Good luck explaining a strip club t-shirt to your wives,” she laughed.
Destiny brought out a tray from behind the curtained entrance, with two paper cups of water and two blue pills. “Open those mouths, boys, my sister and I have some special candy for you.”
I didn’t know about Walter, but I’d never taken an erection pill before. I cooperated, thinking this might be interesting. Walter did as well. Angel popped a pill into each of our mouths, giving us a sip of water to swallow them.
Destiny danced up to us with a small sample-sized spray vial of perfume and sprayed a little on our necks. It was sickly sweet-smelling, almost like tear gas from a makeup counter. “Just a little something to take home,” she giggled.
Angel replied, “Oops! A wife knows the smell of her man. You boys better shower before you get home, or you’ll be in sooooo much trouble!” Both sisters snickered at that.
Now Angel moved to stand directly in front of me, and Destiny moved in front of Walter. The next song began, some 80’s big hair band music, and the girls turned facing the stage with fishnet-clad asses in full view, and moved their hips around. Destiny called out, “You boys like these asses?” I knew Walter was an ass man, so he must have been in heaven seeing both of our wives waving their bottoms.