Ocean Raton: Chapter One Excerpt
SCENE: Leo's in for his regular at The Stallion, though Terri has something else in mind. The game begins.
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“All night long, baby,” Leo hummed as he spotted Terri approaching. “It’s more than just a song by Lionel Richie.”
As she glided towards “their” booth in nothing but a champagne thong, glistening fresh from a three song set, Terri focused on the plan at hand. Timing was everything, and tonight the time was right. Leo was in a particularly good mood, primed as evidenced by the $20 playfully perched across his nose. She would be delicate yet precise, employing the surgeon’s touch she now used to remove the crisp bill from Leo’s schnozz with only her breasts.
“We’re going to party tonight, baby,” Leo cooed. “The puppies at Flagler gonna treat your puppies right. What ya drinking?”
Leo snapped his fingers for a waitress with the attempted flair of a Jazz Age playboy at The Plaza. Grumpy Glenda grudgingly trudged forward from her post in the shadows.
“Yes, Mr. Levine,” she sighed.
“A magnum of your finest Chablis,” bid Leo, a ten spot awkwardly thrust into Glenda’s circulation restricting garter.
“Jug of Gallo coming right up,” Glenda replied as she lumbered off, pulling the ten from her garter and wiping Leo’s residue from her thigh.
Oblivious, his eyes racing up and down Terri’s body like Ben Johnson at the ‘88 Olympics, Leo thumped the naugahyde padded bench signaling Terri to slink in next to him. “So what’s shaking?” he ogled.
Terri had to pick just the right opening. Moving too quickly might blow the deal. She needed to work him up slow and steady so there’d be no way he could stop. “Me for you,” she sighed with smoky eyes as she curled up next to him.
“Ya miss me?” smiled Leo to Terri’s breasts.
Terri said nothing, she didn’t need to. The routine was typical: Leo would stare at her chest, randomly blurt out crass lines he picked up from on-demand cable porn and then Terri would embark on a lap dance-a-thon until the cash was gone.
“These should be in movies, baby,” said the top of Leo’s head.
“Your glasses are going to crack if you stare at them any harder there, Ebert.”
“But these are Golden Globes,” Leo snorted, his own under-developed man-breasts jiggling as a soundless laughing spasm took hold. “Get it, ‘Golden Globes?’ I was speaking about movies and ‘Golden Globes.’”
His eyes quickly darted to Terri’s, confirming she was enjoying his sparkling sense of humor. A confirming smile sent them back to their task.
“Quick with the jokes you are, Leo. Always a step ahead.” She slowly started her play.
“What’s life if you can’t laugh a little? Tips rolling in good tonight?”
This was all part of a regular’s routine. He knew the score; he wasn’t just some sap walking in starry-eyed off the street. Terri was his girl, but a lady has to pay the rent, and a player like Leo could dig that. In fact, he wanted to make sure she was doing the business, lots of it. The more green the better; it meant he was that much more of a big dog when she was stuck on him like static cling.
“Kinda slow, but you’re gonna change that, right, stud?” Terri said as she straddled him and Steven Tyler hissed “Sweet Emotion” across the bar.
“Oh yeah,” was all the top of Leo’s head could muster.
Six songs and a half a jug of Gallo later, Terri sat smoking a cigarette and Leo wheezed to catch his breath. Timing would be everything.
“Meant what I said about you always being a step ahead, Big Leo. You always come in a winner from the track.”
“I know how to pick them, doll. Look at you.”
“You ready for more?” Terri eyed him as she moved to get back on top.
“Soon enough,” he shifted in his seat. Terri made sure that last chorus of Motley Crue’s “Girls, Girls, Girls” took the starch out of his whites. “Sip some wine and give Big Leo a chance to catch his breath.”
“It just fascinates me how you always know exactly where to put your money.”
“I know exactly where to put more than just money, honey,” again, the man-breasts bobbing with glee. Terri felt lunch rising in the back of her throat, but the game was on.
“I’m sure of that,” she swallowed, regaining her focus. “But sure things are hard to find, like your bets at the track.”
“I’ll bet you can find something hard,” Leo grinned, his breath coming back for the next round of the dance-a-thon. Terri would have to move quickly before she lost the moment… and stomach contents.
She eyed him over her wine glass, his eyes back at their task. She was going to give him something better than any lap dance he ever fantasized. Now she just needed to convince him.
“Leo, tell me how you pick them.”
“Well, if it’s one thing I know, Tiara, its great puppies, and when I…”
“Up here,” Terri interrupted, waiting for his eyes to find hers. He stopped. “Tell me how you do it, and please, call me Terri. That’s my real name.”
She played the “real name” card to raise the stakes. He could fold, but Leo was a gambler. That’s what she was betting on.
His demeanor receded, eyes now studying her. “What’s the interest, babe?” He didn’t use Terri, he wasn’t ready. She softened.
“I’m just curious, that’s all. You seem to do so good with money, and well, I’m just trying to figure out what to do with all my tips, and…”
“You don’t want to put your money into gambling,” regaining his comfort as pimp daddy. “That’s just how I play with my pocket change.”
“Wow, that’s just pocket change to you?” She began to stroke his thigh as she stroked his ego.
“Sure, my real money is in investments.”
“Like stocks and bonds and yachts?”
“Something like that. The key, Terri, is to diversify your portfolio.” His confidence was building like the bulge in his pants. He now new her real name. He was in, and more important, so was she.
“I’ve been looking at some opportunities in real estate. I mean, we’re in Florida,” Terri smiled. The hook was set.
“It is a hot market,” Leo paused, “and speaking of hot…”
Terri took her cue and rose to the sound of Jane’s Addiction “Been Caught Stealing.” She swayed in front him, eyes closed, as synthesized dogs barked. When Terri looked down she found him looking… at her. Did it, just like that.
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