Chapter 1: Gemini
The bar was basically dead one night, but we could all feel a buzzing about the room, a certain anticipation. Three different groups and a straggler came bustling in at once, and we all scattered to deploy our respective advances on the fresh prey. There was a man bun at the bar, donning denim and flannel, and ordering a Maker’s on the rocks. Eyes locked on him, though his back was to me, I made the bar floor my catwalk and strutted straight over, boring a hole through him with my stare. It was my way of clearly signaling to the other ladies my intended target, whether or not any of them paid attention. Shifting my weight to my left leg, I leaned my hip against the bar to one side of him and gently pressed on his shoulder until he turned to face me. Madam did always tell us to maintain physical contact with our client, and I kept my hand pressed lightly against him as I slid it diagonally to clench into a fist of fabric in the center of his chest. At precisely this moment, he looked down to see my fist but stopped short, fixated on my breasts. I took in his smell: tobacco and marijuana mixed with sweat, cologne, and whisky. His drink was up, and I watched him grab it, look at me, and start to form an “O” with his slightly chapped lips.