Title: Affection Multiplier App: The Boyfriend
By: BreaktheBar
Chapter 220
I ended up following Becca and Cassidy as they walked across the parking lot arm in arm. Wanda smiled at me and dipped her head a little from where she was talking with Heels and Zenya, checking to make sure everything was OK, and I smiled and nodded to let her know it was. That left me open for Ami to come over to me with a look on her face that said she wasn’t entirely thrilled with this little excursion, but would go along with things.
“Hey, cutie,” I said, reaching out a hand to her.
Ami’s smile shifted a little more towards something real as she stepped towards me and took my hand. I squeezed her fingers with mine. “You OK?”
“This just isn’t really my scene,” Ami said, stepping right to my side.
“I don’t think it’s anyone here’s scene,” I chuckled. “Well, except maybe Heather. But some of the girls are going to have more fun with it than others. Don’t think of it like a strip club though. This is just a private party with a DJ and a bartender.”
Amy closed her eyes and took a breath before nodding. “OK, that helps I guess,” she said. “But… I’m still not interested in girls. What we did with Leia… that was fun, but it was more like we were sharing you, not doing stuff… together.”
“I know, beautiful,” I said, pivoting so that I could hug her quickly. “You don’t need to do anything you don’t want to. And you’re a Designated Driver so don’t stress. Just relax and hang out.”
“OK,” she whispered, hugging me back lightly.
“Everything OK?” Leia asked, skipping over to us. She looked cute as hell in her outfit to the point I was worried some drunks inside would think she was a stripper.
“Ami?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ami said. “Just… Can you hang out with me?”
“Sure, hon,” Leia smiled, slipping around me and taking Ami’s other hand and pulling her towards the building.
I shook my head softly, wondering if maybe this little trip was a bad idea after all. It made sense for the more outgoing girls, sure, but Leia and Ami were the quietest of the group overall. They might have preferred staying back at the boats.
“You have a look on your face,” Cattie said as she walked up behind me. Heather and Ginnie had just past me a few paces over, and they were being followed by Sherry, so I assumed Cattie had slowed down a bit to talk to me.
“It’s nothing,” I said.
Cattie slipped an arm around my waist, pulling me towards the strip club again. “It’s obviously not nothing, Robbie. You’re worrying about something.”
“I’m just in my head, Catherine. That’s all. I’ll be fine.”
She hugged me a little tighter when I used her full first name and rested her head against my shoulder as we walked for a moment. “Worrying is fine in moderation. Sometimes I wish Heather would worry a bit more about the right things. Just don’t forget to have fun, OK? Neither of us are DDing tonight so we are doing shots.”
That made me crack a proper smile again. “Alright. Shots it is. What are we drinking?”
“That depends, do you want to go for the Slutty Gambit or just drink tequila?” Cattie asked.
“What’s the ‘Slutty Gambit?’” I asked.
“Well, it’s any shot with a dirty name. So you start with a Pornstar, then you do a Buttery Nipple, then a Blowjob…”
Cattie knew a surprising number of sexual shots.
We were the last to enter the strip club and queued up right behind Heather, Sherry and Ginnie. Heather didn’t even seem to realize it for a few seconds before she noticed that Cattie had her arm around my waist and mine was around Cattie’s shoulder, then she got a sour look for a moment and turned away. That made me want to ask Cattie about what had gone down earlier after the little confrontation on the boat and their shouting argument in their room, but with Heather right there it didn’t really feel like the time.
Each of us ended up getting a rectangle drawn on our right hand, segmented into three parts, that the bartender in our private room would fill in as we had our three covered drinks. I foresaw issues in the morning when, or if, the girls got up to do more shoots, but it was too late to say anything now. I also doubted that many of them would be getting up to shoot anyways.
Passing through the vestibule area that held the cover girl and a big bouncer I immediately nicknamed ‘Bruce’ in my head for some reason, we entered the Strip Club proper and for some reason I felt this calming sense of normalcy wash over me. Not that I was at home at a strip club or anything, but working for a couple of years at a big hotel on the Las Vegas Strip had a certain kind of wear and tear on me. The neon lighting that dominated the space, the smell of the bar that mixed cut citrus with stale, spilt liquor on the floors, and even the spicy-sick smell of sweat, all spoke of the service industry to me. The large space of the strip club proper was lined with booths and tables, the walls mirrored to make the place feel bigger or give different angles to look at the strippers. There was a stage at one end with a runway to a smaller stage with a stripper pole, plus another couple of smaller stages with stripper poles. The smaller ones were currently occupied by two scantily clad women whose movements were hard to follow as my eyes were adjusting to the neon.
We followed the rest of the group, winding through the Strip Club, and my eyes darted around a bit. The place was about half full and there were probably ten strippers and/or waitresses working (it was hard to tell the difference sometimes), but that left a whole bunch of guys looking at the line of hot, dressed-up women snaking through the club.
Thankfully, at least as far as I could see, no one tried to get handsy or approach anyone, though I was pretty sure a quartet of guys currently occupied by a pair of the strippers called something over to the front of our group where Cassidy and Becca were. The only reason I didn’t react was mostly because I had no clue what he actually said. The music was pumping loud enough in the main room that I wondered if the waitresses were all trained to lip-read so they could take drink orders.
Becca and Cassidy, followed by Terra and JC and then the rest of us, were escorted down a side hallway, and we piled into a smaller room that I guessed was one of their ‘champaign rooms’ or whatever they wanted to call it. It had a small stage on one wall with a pair of stripper poles and a mirrored backing, and a bar just beside the door to the space that was occupied by a skinny guy who looked like he was just finishing setting up his workstation. My managerial eye scanned behind the bar quickly and it looked decently clean and organized, so I had no complaints.
“Robbie,” Cattie said, pinching my side a little to get my attention. “Relax! We’re here, just have fun.”
“Shots!” Cassidy said loudly as she approached us, the music at a more reasonable level in here but the chattering of all the folks on the trip filling the room. “You two are doing shots. Wanda! Shots!”
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