Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 ï>¿Sasha Serves Valentino's Investors by LikesToWatchHer

   Sasha is exposed as a naked waitress.

   Tino, the owner and maitre d' at Valentino's Italian Bistro, gently
draped Sasha and John's coats over his forearm and held them out to the
hostess.  "Please hang these while I seat our guests." He instructed her.

   "Signorina?" Tino offered Sasha his elbow, through which she hooked her
arm, and he escorted the couple to their usual corner table at the
intersection of the two burgundy leather banquettes, John following behind
them.  Tino pulled the table out from the corner so Sasha and John could
seat themselves, and then unfolded their napkins before placing them in the
diners' laps.  Sasha's short black cocktail dress had slid far up her hips
as she sat, and Tino draped her napkin softly over her exposed upper thigh.

   "So nice to see you both this evening -- we're always excited when you
come.  Would you like the usual?" Tino asked?

   "Yes," John replied, "a bottle of pink champagne, per favore.  No
hurry."

   "I will tell your server, please enjoy." Tino said, giving the couple an
exaggerated wink before returning to the hostess stand.

   "It's nice to be regulars and get the VIP treatment, isn't it?" Sasha
asked.

   "They like us here." John replied.  "And the feeling is mutual!"

   Shortly, the server delivered their champagne.  He opened the bottle
with a napkin, poured them two glasses, wrapped the bottle, and shoved it
down into the ice in the chiller by their table.

   Moments later, Tino returned, his own glass in hand.  Sasha and John
could smell the bitter amaro as Tino pulled up a chair to join them.

   "May I?" He asked.

   "Sure," answered John, "To what do we owe this treat?  What's new? 
Where's Gino tonight?"

   "Gino has the evening off.  He'll be sad to have missed you both." Tino
winked again at Sasha, and she smiled and blushed.

   "I came over to talk to you because I have a favor, maybe more of a
proposition, really, to ask of you." Tino stated.

   "For you, anything." John said.

   "Next Friday is our annual investors meeting in the private dining room
in the back." Tino explained.  "Normally, we have Emmanuella serve -- she
is our very best server.  I'm sure you agree."

   "We love her." Said Sasha, "She's always so warm and attentive."

   "Exactly -- and she knows how to work the money-men and send them home
stuffed and happy." Tino agreed.  "The problem is this: she's leaving
tomorrow for a two-week trip home to Napoli.  I didn't think through the
calendar when I approved the time off.  My mistake.  Now I've got nobody
but Giuseppe and Alberto to work as servers.  I can't spare them from the
main dining room, and even if I could, they just cannot deliver the
experience that the investors are expecting."

   "That is a conundrum." John commiserated.  "But how can we help?"

   "Well, it's really mostly Sasha's help I am hoping for.  I was talking
to Gino about this situation, trying to figure out whom we could ask to
fill in for Emmanuella, and he suggested you, Sasha.  I know you are a
professional person, not a waitress.  But I would compensate you well -
$1,000 for the evening.  Four hours at most."

   Sasha gulped.  Over the last year, almost every time she and John saw
Gino at the restaurant, they were sitting in this very corner, Sasha
bottomless, secretly flashing Gino her beautiful half-Asian pussy under the
table, spreading her legs, fingering herself, letting Gino watch. 
Sometimes even letting Gino touch.  Sasha knew that Gino was hot for her,
but she wasn't sure why Gino thought a waitressing job would be right for
her.

   "This town is full of waitresses looking for work.  Why me?" Sasha
asked.

   "Gino adores you -- you know this.  And I will be honest, he told me
some time ago about your, how should we say it -- 'arrangement.' He's
should have realized I would notice all the pink champagne and crÃ"me
brulÃ(C) that he was comping you.  When I confronted him, he confessed."

   "Oh god, I am so embarrassed." Sasha moaned, her eyes wide with shock,
her face turning beet red.

   "No, no -- it is ok!  It's totally ok!" Tino placed his hand
reassuringly over Sasha's.  "That was months ago.  I have allowed it to
continue.  It's important to have regular customers -- and if they are an
attractive couple like you two obviously are, so much the better.  You two
have brought a good energy to the restaurant.  And that's mostly why I want
you for this job -- you are so cheerful and positive.  Warm, but clever. 
You melt hearts with that beautiful smile of yours, Sasha.  Gino said he
thought you had worked as a server in college, and we both thought you
would have the experience, the attitude, the charm to mollify a room full
of arrogant restaurant investors.  And the smarts to hold your own with
them."

   Sasha was comforted by Tino's warm touch and kind words, and relieved to
hear his warm explanation.  She was also flattered.  Though still
embarrassed that Tino knew their secret, she felt the tension in her belly
ease.  Smiling at Tino, she thought to herself 'He said that I am
beautiful.' She leaned forward and gave Tino a kiss on the cheek.

   "Thank you for saying that, Tino." Sasha said.  "That's very kind of
you. We have speculated whether anyone else knew, but just assumed it was
only Gino.  So, this is the investors' annual meeting?" She asked.

   Tino nodded and sipped his amaro.

   "And how's business?" She continued.

   Sasha was no dummy.  She had an MBA in finance and worked with lawyers
and bankers and investors every day.  She knew if the annual report was
bad, the investors would not be in a good mood, and then nothing about this
gig would be pleasant.

   "You ask the smart questions." Tino said.  "Business has been
spectacular.  Revenues are up, reservations are up, profits are up.  Maybe
it's a coincidence, but I think you are our lucky charm.  So, Gino and the
chef are working together on a very special menu for the investors, and I
think they will be ecstatic.  If all goes well, I'll be able to give Gino
and the other staff a little raise.  So, what do you say?  John, may I
conscript your girlfriend for one night to serve dinner to four wealthy
restauranteurs?"

   "It's not up to me," responded John "it's Sasha's time.  I certainly
don't mind, though.  I know we don't have any plans that night."

   "It's not like we need the money," Sasha mused, "but on the other hand,
it's hard to turn my nose up at $250 an hour.  That said, we'd probably end
up just spending it all here anyway." She laughed.

   Tino could tell that Sasha was vacillating.  He wanted this half-Asian
stunner for this job and didn't want her to get away without agreeing.

   "I tell you what." Tino said.  "I'll sweeten the deal.  Once you do
this, you will be like part of the Valentino's family.  You two can have
the staff discount -- half off -- for as long as I own this restaurant. 
You can even have the discount tonight, if you say yes."

   John cocked an eyebrow and looked to Sasha, as if to say silently
'That's a pretty sweet offer.'

   "Ok, I'll do it.  Here's to Sasha the server!" She enthusiastically
raised her glass to John and Tino, who toasted her.

   "To Sasha the server!" Both men said, clinking their glasses.

   "I will leave you to your dinner." Said Tino.  "I cannot thank you
enough -- this means a lot to me.  I know my investors will be in good
hands.  Grazie -- molti grazi."

   "Tino," Sasha said, almost whispering, leaning in towards him, "can I
ask a question?"

   "Anything, my dear.  What is it?" Tino responded.

   "Are you and Gino expecting me to expose myself to the investors? 
That's not what this is about, is it?" Sasha whispered to Tino.

   "No, sweetheart.  No.  These men, they need a server who knows how to
make them feel important and special.  One who knows which side to serve a
plate from.  Who will keep their glasses full, laugh at their jokes, and
send them home satiated and smiling.  This is the service that Emmanuella
provides, and whatever you can do to make that happen, I will be in your
debt." Tino gave Sasha a reassuring pat on her thigh.

   "Thank you, Tino." Sasha responded with relief.  She placed her hand
over Tino's and squeezed.  "And thank you for not firing Gino!"

   "Fire him?  I wish I could promote him!" Tino laughed.  "Business is
good!"

   Tino stood and excused himself.  The couple devoured their meal, Sasha
all atwitter about her little waitressing gig.  She spent the dinner
studying the servers, and reminding herself out loud of all the details
that go into being a good waitress: what goes where, when flatware is
removed and replaced, how often to refill glasses, where to stand to be out
of the way, how to summon the bus boys, how to talk to the chefs.  Once or
twice over the course of the evening, Sasha caught Tino looking towards her
from the host stand, and she would separate her knees to give him a
momentary view of her warm pale brown slit visible through her transparent
lace thong.  Tino seemed less zealous than Gino to get a peek, but Tino
would smile and give a nod of gratitude when Sasha did show herself to him.

   'Tino likes my pussy, but he's not a lech.  That's good.' Sasha thought.

   The couple finished their meal, paid their (discounted) check, and
stopped briefly at the host stand to say goodnight to Tino.

   "Gino will call you tomorrow or the next day to finalize the
arrangements.  Thank you again Sasha.  Thank you too, John.  I will see you
next Friday, Sasha.  Have a lovely weekend.  I cannot express what a relief
it is to place this event in your hands.  I will see you next Friday."

   "See you!" Sasha said, giving Gino an Italian farewell -- one kiss on
each cheek.

   The week flew by.  The work days seemed to pass in minutes, and Sasha
spent her evenings researching the duties of a fine dining server, and
planning her outfit.  Before she knew it, the week had passed.  She cut out
of her office a little early on Friday in order have time to change and get
to the restaurant by 6:00 PM.  The investors were to arrive at 7:00, and
the dinner was expected to end at 10:00.

   "Wear something sexy, but not not over the top." Gino had advised her.
"White shirt, black skirt.  Short, but not too short.  Your legs always
look amazing in heels, but it is hard to wait tables in heels for hours --
most waitresses wear running shoes.  But it's up to you."

   Sasha stripped naked and stood before her bedroom mirror.  She had laid
her clothes out on the bed: a white cotton button down shirt with a man's
collar; a tight but stretchy black pencil skirt -- more of a mini skirt --
that landed mid-thigh (high enough to show off her long tan legs, low
enough not to be salacious); no bra because Sasha's breasts were small and
the shirt was opaque -- she figured she'd be covered enough, and if the
investors saw a nipple pressing against the starched cotton, who knows --
they might just appreciate it; and a pair of low-heeled pumps -- not as
comfortable as running shoes, but far sexier, while still more comfortable
than her stilettos.  No tights or stockings.  And concealed under the
skirt, a black cotton g-string ('No panty lines tonight,' Sasha thought).

   She stepped out of the bedroom and twirled for John.  "You look
extraordinary!" He said.  "If you were my waitress, I'd seduce you and take
you home with me!"

   "Good thing, since I live here." Sasha joked.

   "Sasha?" John spoke her voice quietly.

   "What is it, baby?" She cooed.

   "I've been thinking.  I'm not sure I believe Gino and Tino that they're
not expecting you to show these investors some skin." He said.

   "I know -- I've had the same thought.  But Tino promised." Sasha said.

   "Well, if they do, I just wanted you to know, I trust you and it's ok
with me.  I don't own you -- you can do anything you want.  Just be safe
and smart about it." John said.

   "Baby -- you're the best.  Nothing is going to happen, though." She
reassured him.

   "I know.  But take your phone -- call me and tell me how it's going."
John said.

   "I will, sweetheart." She kissed John deeply on the lips and he ran his
hand over the thin fabric stretched over her beautiful round derriere. 
"I'll be home by midnight.  Love you!"

   Gino greeted Sasha at the restaurant.  He showed her the private dining
room.  It was off the back hall with a frosted glass door that opened into
the hallway between the restrooms and the kitchen.  Inside the
burgundy-painted room there was a separate swinging service door that
opened directly into the kitchen.  A round table had been perfectly set
with five chairs.  There were tray stands along the wall, a water station,
champagne chillers.  Gino gave Sasha a little waitress's "apron" -- really
just a short cotton pocket or two -- that she tied behind her back and
smoothed over the front of her skirt.  She used the pockets for a pen, her
phone, and a notepad.

   Tino entered the room, and thanked her effusively for helping them.  He
stood back to admire her and Sasha purred as Gino scanned her up and down.
"Do a slow spin for me?" Tino directed.

   She turned slowly for the two men.  "Extraordinary!" Said Tino as she
turned her back to him.  Sasha wiggled her butt appreciatively.

   "You are perfect." Said Tino.  "Not even Emmanuella has ever looked so
perfect for one of these dinners.  Brava, Sasha, brava!"

   "Can I tell you both a secret?" Sasha asked in a hushed voice.

   "Of course!" Said Tino.

   "I'm actually wearing underwear." She whispered and giggled.

   "May we see?" Asked Gino.  Tino shot him a death stare, but Sasha was
always eager to show herself off and had already said "Yes!" and hiked her
skirt around her waist and lifted her apron to give the men another twirl.

   "My god you are a vision." Gino said, ogling the thin black string
disappearing between the round lobes of Sasha's butt.  It was not the first
time he had said this to her.

   "Quanto tempo ci vorrà prima che vengano rimossi?" Tino asked Gino in
Italian.

   "Non lo so.  Presto, spero." Gino replied.

   Sasha didn't really speak Italian, but she understood Gino's reply ("I
don't know, hopefully soon"), and assumed Tino had asked when the investors
would arrive.  She pulled the hem of her skirt back to her thighs and
smoothed it down.

   Tino stepped out to wait for the investors and conduct the business
portion of the meeting in his office.  Sasha and Gino finished preparing
the room, and he briefed her on the menu, and gave her a little intel on
the investors.

   They were all men in their 40s or 50s, none of them Italian, all
affluent, friendly, but serious about their money.  They were used to being
treated like VIPs.  "If your service is exceptional, they might tip you on
top of what Tino is paying." Gino offered.

   Just then Tino re-entered the dining room along with four other men -- a
white haired man in a blue suit, a dark haired man in a tan jacket, a
balding man in black turtleneck, and an Asian man in a gray dress shirt and
slacks.  The Asian man looked vaguely familiar to Sasha, but she didn't
want to stare at him, and looked at the floor.

   "Gentlemen," he said, "this is Sasha.  She and Gino will be taking care
of you tonight."

   "No Emmanuella?" Exclaimed blue suit.

   "Mi dispiace," said Tino, "As I told you, Emmanuella is in Italy this
week.  But we think that you'll find Sasha a more-than-adequate
replacement."

   "I'm sure we will, honey." Said blue suit, rubbing Sasha's shoulder
apologetically.  "I was just joking.  We're looking forward to you."

   'Handsy.' Thought Sasha.

   Gino seated and joined the men, and Sasha uncorked and poured a bottle
of champagne for them.  Over the first several minutes, with a little help
from Gino, she quietly memorized their names.  Blue suit was Stan Jeffries,
the lead investor who owned 51% of the restaurant.  Tino owned the
remaining 49% of the restaurant in equal shares with the other three: tan
jacket, who was named Brian Kovatch; black turtleneck, whose name was
Thomas Walker; and the Asian man who was Chidi Nguyen.

   'Chidi Nguyen!' Sasha thought.  'Why do I know that name?'

   Gino cleared the champagne flutes and replaced them with white wine
glasses as Sasha served the first course: an iced tray holding at least
thirty oysters.  She deftly placed a small bowl of
champagne-vinegar-and-shallot-vinaigrette in front of each of them men and
retreated to the wall by the kitchen door.  The men enthusiastically
slurped at the raw oysters.

   "Damn these are good!" Said Mr.  Jeffries.  "Sasha -- would you like to
join us for an oyster or two?"

   "Oh, thank you so much Mr.  Jeffries, that's very kind." She said,
stepping forward.  "It's not appropriate -- I'm just here to serve."

   "First of all, call me Stan," he responded, "we're all on a first name
basis here.  Second, the only rules are the ones we make, and I'd like you
to try these.  If you like oysters, that is."

   "I do, I do like oysters." Sasha said, stepping towards the table. 
"Thank you, Mr.  Jef..., I mean Stan."

   Gino deftly slid behind Sasha and pushed a chair behind her knees for
her to sit next to Stan.  Stan took a large oyster and spooned a dash of
vinaigrette over it.  With his left hand he took Sasha's chin and raised it
slightly.  With the right, he held the oyster over her mouth.  Sasha, used
to feeding herself, shot him a surprised look, but opened her mouth and
stuck out her tongue for Stan to pour the slimy mollusk and its brine
between her parted lips.  Sasha swallowed, with an "Mmmmmmmm.  So
delicious."

   "Right?" Said Stan.  "Have another!" And he repeated the same dance.

   "Best thing I've had in my mouth all day." Sasha joked, and the men all
broke into peals of laughter.

   "So far!" Said Thomas Walker, and the men laughed harder.

   "Oh, Sasha," Stan said, unexpectedly placing his hand on Sasha's bare
thigh, "I'm sorry for the crack about Emmanuelle.  You've been great and
it's clear to me that you fit right in with this motley crew of aging
philogynists."

   "That's a real twenty-dollar word." Said Brian Kovatch.

   "It means 'admirers of women,' dum dum." Chidi Nguyen said.  "You owe me
twenty dollars." They all laughed more.

   "Have another one, Sasha!" Stan commanded.

   "You're too generous!  One more -- ok." Sasha responded.  "But then I've
got to get back to taking care of you."

   "Tommy -- you give her this one!" Stan directed the partner seated on
the other side of him.

   "Oh, ok." Sasha said, slightly confused.  She stood and pushed her chair
back.

   "Skip the chair, sweetheart." Said Tom.  "Just come have a seat on my
lap -- this will only take a second."

   "That's what she said." Quipped Chidi, which nearly brought the other
men to tears they laughed so hard.

   Sasha stepped around Stan and stood between Tom's knees.  She gently
lowered herself to sit on his left thigh, as he prepared an oyster and
offered it to her expectant tongue with his right hand.  He placed his left
hand over her sacrum and rubbed warmly as Sasha swallowed the briny oyster.

   "Thank you so much." She said, standing, feeling nervous about the men's
attention.  "I'll go check on the next course."

   Sasha retreated to the bustling kitchen with Gino in tow.  "Oh my god,
Gino -- is this normal?" She asked as soon as the door swung shut behind
them.

   "Is what normal, Sasha?" Gino asked.

   "Them pouring oysters down my throat, and touching my legs and my butt?"
She queried.

   "Aaah -- they are just being rowdy.  They are harmless.  The important
thing is this: they adore you!" Said Gino, reassuringly.  "I have never
seen them so cheerful, not even with Emmanuelle.  You make them feel at
ease."

   "Well that's good." Said Sasha.  "I wish I could feel at ease."

   "Here, this will help." Gino poured her a glass of champagne from one of
several bottles of alcohol lined up along the wall for the investors'
dining room.

   "Oh god, yes!" Sasha exclaimed.  "I should've done this earlier." And
she poured the entire glass down her throat with a single gulp.

   Gino put his hand on Sasha's hip.  "You are doing fantastic.  Relax." He
reassured her.

   Sasha gave Gino a hug.  "Thank you, Gino." She said.

   Together they served the next course, a rustic Italian mushroom soup. 
Sasha poured a French Chardonnay for each of the men and again retreated to
the back wall of the dining room.

   "Sasha!" Called Stan.  "Stop being such a wall flower.  Come back and
sit with us.  I've got a joke to tell you."

   Sasha obediently seated herself in her chair next to Stan.  He began,
"This old coot is about to turn ninety years old.  His friend wants him to
have the best birthday of his life, so he hires him a prostitute and sends
her to the old coot's house."

   "I've heard this before." Said Brian.

   "We've all heard this before." Said Tom.

   "Well don't ruin it!" Snapped Stan.  "So this hooker goes to the old
guy's house, strips naked at his front door, and rings the bell.  He opens
the door.  He's shocked.  He hasn't seen a naked woman for 30 years, let
alone a beautiful young naked woman.  'What's this all about,' the old coot
asks her.  'It's your birthday and your friend sent me to give you super
sex!' she says to him."

   The other investors start to chuckle.

   Stan continues, "The old man looks confused, and strokes his chin for a
moment, and then says 'Ok -- great -- I'll have the soup!'"

   Sasha joins them men laughing this time.  "That one doesn't get old."
Laughed Tom.

   "That is pretty good." Said Sasha.  "Speaking of soup, let me clear your
bowls and get your next course."

   "Carry on!" Said Stan, who then beckoned Gino over and whispered into
his ear for a moment.  Gino nodded, and followed Sasha back into the
kitchen.

   "What was that about?" Asked Sasha.

   "Here, have some more champagne." Gino poured Sasha another glass, which
she downed quickly, again.  "Stan had a couple of requests he wanted me to
convey to you."

   "Name it!" Sasha said.

   "First, he would like you to sit at the table with him when you are not
serving.  He wants to include you in the conversation." Gino reported.

   "Easy peasy -- as long as Tino won't get upset.  He's not paying me to
sit around.  What else?" She asked.

   "Tino will be fine -- they all own the place.  They're all paying you to
be here." Gino explained.  "Stan's second request is that he would like you
to remove your underwear."

   Sasha turned white as a sheet as her stomach dropped.  "What?  How? 
Does he know?  Do they all know?"

   "They know." Gino confirmed.  "Tino told them.  I hope you are not
upset."

   "A little bit!" Sasha said, feeling flustered.  "It was our secret.  And
then I learned it was our secret, and Tino's.  Who else knows?"

   "Just the people in that dining room, I swear to you." Gino said.

   Sasha's apprehension was turning to titillation as she considered what
was being asked of her.  She felt vulnerable.  She was sharing a private
room with six men, four of them rich men.  There was no escape route. 
There was nowhere for her to retreat if things took a dark turn.  At the
same time, she trusted Gino and Tino.  And although she had boundaries,
they were flexible.  "What do they want, Gino?  How far are they expecting
this to go?"

   "I think right now they just want to know that you are not wearing
underwear.  They might want to see you -- maybe to see you touch yourself.
Same as you do with me.  Nothing more.  You are safe here, Sasha."

   "Ok, if you promise to take care of me, Gino!" Sasha said.

   "I will take good care of you -- I promise!" Gino reassured her.

   Sasha looked around the hectic kitchen.  Nobody was paying any attention
to her.  She reached under her skirt and hooked her thumbs through the
string at her hips and dropped her g-string to the floor.  Gino picked it
up and placed it on a bread plate.  The slick ooze on the crotch, which he
turned to face upwards, belied Sasha's protestations of reluctance.

   "I will serve them their pasta course.  You can deliver this plate to
Stan." Gino said holding it out to her.

   "Oh my god you cannot be serious!" Sasha exclaimed.

   "It's what he asked for." Gino replied.  "Stan said 'Have Sasha remove
her underwear and bring them to me on a plate.'"

   Sasha's face turned deep red.  'I don't really have any other choice
here, do I.' She thought.

   "Fine.  Give me some more champagne and hand me that plate." Sasha
directed.

   She strode back into the dining room, plate in hand.  Gino followed with
a tray containing five modest portions of carbonara.  Sasha sat again
beside Stan, as Gino worked his way around the table placing the pasta on
the table.

   "I am told that you want these." Sasha said to Stan, placing the plate
holding her g-string on the table in front of Stan.  The butterflies in her
stomach were doing somersaults and back kicks.  She had no guess where this
was all going to go.  She was equal parts terrified, and exhilarated.

   "Thank you, Sasha -- best...server...ever!" Said Stan.  He pressed the
moist panties to his nose and inhaled deeply.  "That is superb!" He said.

   "Thank you, Stan." Said Sasha, stewing in her humiliation.

   "You must be so wet already," Stan continued.  "Would you show us,
please?"

   A tight not formed in Sasha's stomach.  She hadn't expected that demand
to come so soon.  She wasn't prepared.  Nonetheless, Sasha stood as the men
twirled spaghetti onto their forks and slurped it into their hungry mouths.
She pulled her apron around to the back, and lifted the front hem of her
skirt up past her mound.  Standing here, genitals completely exposed to six
men, four of whom she had never met before this night, was at once
mortifying and electrifying.  Normally she kept a patch of her straight
dark pubes trimmed into a triangle just north of her clitoris -- but for
this event, she had shaved completely.  She wasn't sure why, since she had
not been expecting this exposure.  But here she was, and without a lick of
hair in the way, everything was visible.

   Sasha's genitals were engorging with blood even as she stood there, her
tiny clit forcing its way out from the fleshy folds on either side of it --
almost like a small penis growing erect before their eyes.  The sweet
moisture began to flow below.  The men all stopped eating and stared at
Sasha's exposed pussy.

   "Great god in heaven, Sasha, if you don't have the most beautiful little
cunt I've ever seen, then I do not know who does." Stan said.

   "Hear, hear!" Said Brian.  The others nodded in agreement.

   Sasha's breathing was short and shallow.  She loved the attention and he
praise, she felt beautiful and strong, and vulnerable and exposed, all at
once.  "I need a drink." She said, barely louder than a whisper.

   "Well why didn't you say something, girl!" Said Stan.  "Gino -- fetch
the young lady a drink from the bar ASAP!  What would you like?  Wine? 
Champagne?  Tequila shots?"

   "A tequila shot would be amazing." Sasha said.  Her head was spinning
and she sat back down on her chair, still holding her skirt up to expose
her excited pussy to the men at the table.

   "A round of tequila for everyone!" Stan said to Gino.  "Reposado.  The
good stuff."

   "Right away, sir." Gino exited the room to fetch the shots, leaving
Sasha alone with Stan, Brian, Tom, Chidi, and Tino.

   "Do you like to touch yourself, Sasha?" Asked Stan.  "Do you like to
touch yourself while people are watching you?"

   The questions could have sounded intrusive, or menacing, but they landed
as inviting.  Warm.  Sincerely inquisitive.

   "I do, Stan.  I guess I am a bit of an exhibitionist.  I know you've
heard.  This whole situation has me feeling kind of nervous right now,"
Sasha confessed, "but I'm so turned on I can barely stand up."

   "Woot woot!" Brian cheered.

   "Maybe if you had an orgasm it would relieve your anxiety," Stan
suggested, "why don't you give yourself one?"

   "I will.  I will.  I will do that for you." Sasha said, looking around
the table, trying to regain her composure.  She took a deep slow breath,
in, and then out, and then another.  "Don't you want to save something for
the main course, though?" She asked.

   "See!" Said Stan, looking to Tino.  "That's what makes her so good at
this job.  She understands pacing.  Here we are rushing her.  Shame on us.
Lower your skirt, sweetheart.  We've got all night!"

   Sasha felt relieved, and released the hem of her skirt which snapped
down just below the crease of her hips, still leaving her pussy exposed to
anyone who made an effort to look.

   Gino re-entered the room with a tray bearing seven shots of tequila. 
Stan snatched one and handed it to Sasha, who slammed it immediately and
slapped the glass down on the table.

   "Woo hoo!  That's how you do it!" Stan exclaimed.  "Sasha -- here's an
idea -- how about if the rest of us do ours as body shots?"

   "Like, out of my belly button?" She asked incredulously.  "There's no
limes, there's no salt."

   "Great tequila requires neither.  But you're right, great body shots
require both.  Gino -- sorry to send you back to the bar." Stan said.

   "On my way -- right away, sir." Gino said.

   "Let's get you ready while he's fetching the supplies.  You just need to
take that shirt off and lie down somewhere.  We can put two chairs together
and you can lie across them." Said Stan.

   'Shirt off?' Sasha thought.  'I never show my breasts.  They're so
small. Oh god.  What am I getting myself into.'

   Sasha obediently began to unbutton her shirt, pulling out of the top of
her skirt, loosing the final button and tossing the shirt back over her
shoulders.

   "You are a vision, Ms.  Sasha." Said Stan.  "Here, lie back over these
chairs."

   Sasha reclined across two of the chairs, her feet on the floor, her butt
supported by one, her shoulders and head by the other.  Gino returned with
salt and line wedges.  Stan took the salt and made five little piles of it
on Shasha's torso.  One by each nipple, one in her supersternal notch, and
two on her abdomen.

   "Gino -- talk about plating a dish at the table!  Your job is to place a
lime wedge in Sasha's teeth each time one of us is ready to take a shot --
got it?" Stan directed.

   "Got it, sir." Gino replied.

   "You first, Tino -- host can start." Said Stan.

   Tino stood and came over to Sasha.  She pulled her abs in tightly to
make a deeper cavity at her belly button as Tino poured his shot into it.
He licked the pile of salt above Sasha's sternum, Gino placed a lime
between Sasha's waiting teeth, Tino slurped the tequila out of Sasha's
belly button, and extracted the lime from her lips.  He was as gentlemanly
and proper as a man doing a tequila shot off the body of a half-naked
hottie could possibly be.

   Brian was next.  He took one of the salt piles from Sasha's abdomen. 
Then came Chidi, who did the same.  Sasha could swear she detected a look
of recognition in Chidi's eyes has he looked into hers while extracting his
lime from between her pink pursed lips.

   Tom was less gentlemanly.  When he licked the salt off of Sasha's left
nipple he sucked it into his mouth and flicked his tongue over it before
sucking his tequila from her belly.

   And Stan, similarly, placed a hand high on Sasha's thigh as licked all
around her right nipple, before sucking up his tequila, sliding his hand
behind Sasha's head, slithering his tongue between her lips, and scooping
out his lime.  He left his lips pressed into hers for a long moment.

   "Extraordinary!" Stan proclaimed.

   Sasha sat up, swept her hair back, reclaimed her blouse, and pulled her
chair back to the table.  She started to pull her shirt back over her
shoulders when Stan stopped her.

   "Sweetie, are you cold?" He asked.

   "I, uhm, no.  I'm not cold at all." Sasha answered honestly.

   "Then why don't you just leave that off and let us admire your gorgeous
body while we eat the rest of our dinner?" Stan suggested.  Sasha assumed
that it was more of a command than a request.

   "Ok, I mean, sure." The warm tequila in her tummy was putting Sasha more
at ease with her vulnerability and her nudity.  "But your mains are almost
ready, I think, and I shouldn't go into the kitchen like this."

   "Nonsense -- you stay right here with us, pretty lady!  Gino can take
over the service.  Can't you, Gino?" Stan asked.  Again, it didn't really
seem like a request.

   "Absolutely sir.  Right away." Gino retreated to the kitchen by himself.

   "Tell us a little about yourself, Sasha." Stan said to the nearly naked
girl sitting beside him.

   "Well, I work in...  uhm." Sasha suddenly felt profoundly ridiculous. 
She was sitting in a private dining room in the city's fanciest Italian
restaurant with five wealthy men -- fully clothed wealthy men, as far as
that goes.  She was wearing only a waitress's apron, a short skirt, and a
pair of pumps.  In this salacious state of undress, she was about to
discuss her day job and her educational.  She started laughing at the
absurdity of it all.  She couldn't stop, it grew into one of those laughs
so deep and hard that it almost hurts and you cannot tell if it will ever
subside.

   Sasha gripped her sides and bent forward, squeezing her eyes shut as the
laughter persisted.  The men too began to laugh with her, and in a moment
they were all roaring.

   This was the scene to which Gino returned with a tray of lamb chops and
chimichurri with roasted fingerlings, a bottle of rare Italian Primitivo
tucked under his arm.  As he began to set the plates around the table and
pour the wine, the spasms of laughter in Sasha's clenched belly began to
subside enough for her to speak.

   With tears running down her cheeks, she said "I'm sorry.  This whole
situation just suddenly struck me as hilarious." She laughed some more.

   "Baby doll -- it is hilarious." Agreed Stan.  "It's fucking ludicrous. I
do not for the life of my understand why you are still wearing that skirt."

   Sasha's head snapped up -- she looked hard and deep into Stan's eyes. 
"You get it!" She exclaimed.  "You see me!" Stan was just cracking wise,
but in that instant Sasha knew that Stan understood exactly what had
triggered her laughter.  Her pupils dilated slightly.  She looked deeply
into Stan's eyes, searching for another sign.

   "I do see you, and I'd like to see more." Stan said with a wink.

   Sasha stood up and turned Stan's chair towards her.  She straddled his
left thigh, lowering herself onto it, grinding her pussy into his leg and
taking his cheeks between her hands.  Sasha planted a kiss right on Stan's
lips.  She stood again, untied her apron and dropping it to the floor. 
Sasha unzipped her skirt and pushed it down off her thighs.  She kicked her
pumps under the table.

   Sasha returned to her chair, and pulled her knees up to her chest, her
feet on the edge of the seat.  Her sex protruded luridly from between her
thighs.

   "I'm in finance." Sasha said, only to break into a fit of giggles once
again.  "At an investment bank."

   "MBA?" Asked Stan.

   "Yes, in finance.  Stanford." She responded, running her hands up and
down her bare shins.

   "Holy crap, girl!  You're some kind of brainiac, apparently!" Tom
exclaimed.

   "I did ok." Sasha said, modestly.

   "Wow I had you pegged all wrong." Said Brian.

   "It's ok.  If I were in your shoes, I'd think I was just a desperate
waitress or a sex worker or something." Sasha replied.  "Hey -- I'm a
modern feminist.  I want it all!"

   Sasha started laughing again, and the men joined in.

   "So now that your lamb chops are here, do you want that show we were
talking about." Sasha asked, looking around the table.

   "I want to see what a Stanford MBA looks like when she squirts." Said
Chidi.

   "As do we all, as do we all." Said Stan.

   "I need to do something first, I hope you won't be upset." She said,
apologetically.

   "What is it?" Stan asked.

   "I need to make sure my boyfriend is cool with it." She answered.

   "Boooooooo!" Said Stan.  "We don't need your boyfriend raining on our
parade!"

   "I'm 99.999% positive that he's fine with this.  Great, even.  He might
even want to watch." Sasha responded.

   "Do what you've gotta do." Said Stan, slicing of a piece of lamb.

   Sasha grabbed her phone from the apron and FaceTimed John.  He picked up
immediately.  "Hey Sweetie!" She said, glad to see his familiar face in
these unfamiliar circumstances.  She held the phone so that John could see
only her face, not her bare shoulders.

   "What's up?" Asked John.  "How's the dinner going?"

   "It's going great." Sasha responded.

   "I'll say it is!" Stan quipped.

   "Who's that?" John asked?

   "One of the investors.  His name is Stan.  They're all super nice -- I'm
having a great time." Sasha said.  "John, baby -- I want to make sure this
is ok with you."

   "Make sure what's ok with me?" John asked.  "I already told you that you
can do anything you want."

   "I knew she didn't really need to call him." Brian muttered.

   "They want to watch me masturbate, John.  Just me, naked in a room with
six men.  Tino and Gino are here.  They all want to see me come.  Are you
ok with that?" Sasha asked.

   "Baby, I'm ok with anything that you want to do." John said,
reassuringly.  "If it feels right to you, it's fine with me."

   "Thank you, baby, mwah!" Sasha made a kiss at the phone.  "Do you want
to watch too?"

   "You don't need to ask twice." John said.

   Sasha stood up and walked to the far side of the table and handed the
phone to Tino, reversing the camera and showing him how to point it at her
empty chair.  Then she walked back and sat down.

   John saw Sasha drop her feet to the floor.  She slouched in the chair,
curling her sex up towards the men and the camera.  She inserted a finger
into her vagina to wet it and began to stroke her clit.  She spread her
knees apart as far as they would go and spanked her clit with the flat of
her hand, before resuming her stroking.  It felt delicious.  All five men
were staring at her with rapt attention.

   Tino slowly panned the phone around the room so that John could see all
the older men leering at his girlfriend, naked as a jaybird, stroking
herself.  Sasha moaned.  John rubbed himself through his pajama pants.

   Sasha pulled her left foot up onto the chair and reached around her
thigh to sink two fingers from her left hand into her splayed and dripping
gash, just like she had done for Gino on her first night at the restaurant.
Her eyes danced around the room, moving from Stan to Tom, then to Chidi,
Brian, and Tino, and then Gino, then the phone.  Then back to Stan.  Her
cunt was dripping all over the seat of the chair.  She was getting close,
but needed more to get over the edge.

   "Stan," she said breathily.  "I need you to do something for me."

   "Tell me, doll." He answered.

   "Pinch my nipples.  Pinch them hard." She begged.

   John watched as this silver fox in a suit -- a older wealthy man he had
never met or seen before in his life -- reached out and pinched his
girlfriend's left nipple between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing and
twisting.  Sasha's breath was growing ragged.

   "I'm going to come." She said, pumping her fingers furiously into
herself, stroking her clit violently, her juices running over the front
edge of the chair to puddle on the floor beneath.  "I'm going to come."

   Stan reached out and grabbed Sasha's right nipple with his other hand
and the dam broke.  Sasha started to convulse.  She whipped her fingers
from her pussy and a stream of fluid shot onto the table in front of her.
She grabbed the sides of her chair with her hands so that her convulsions
would not throw her to the floor.  And another stream of come erupted from
between Sasha's legs.  Then another, and another.

   The men were dumbstruck.  Their mouths hung open as the stared at the
quivering puddle of naked flesh wrapping herself around the chair in front
of them.

   Stan reached out and stroked Sasha's thigh lightly.  "Doll -- you ok? 
You alright, doll?" He asked comfortingly.

   John felt a pang of jealousy at the sight of this act of compassion, but
he wasn't mad.  He loved how his girlfriend brought out the best in people,
even in the throws of lust.

   Stan's touch sent electrical shocks through Sasha's skin, to her clit,
and to her nipples, and back.  She convulsed.  She tried to catch her
breath.

   "Yes.  I'm good.  I'm great.  I'm fucking amazing!" Sasha said, throwing
her head back to see the ceiling, pulling her hand up to cup and kneed her
breast.

   Stan brought his hands together with a loud clap.  Then another, then
another.  The other men joined him.  They rose and gave Sasha a standing
ovation.  She blinked, wiped her sweaty hair from her face, and smiled.

   "Thank you." Sasha said.

   "No!" Stan responded, "Thank YOU!"

   Gino came and knelt next to Sasha.  "There is one more task for you." He
whispered in her ear.

   "What is it?" She asked, breathlessly.

   "The final course, the dessert course, is to be served on your body.  I
will clear the table so you can recline on it, and the pastry chef will
come plate the presentation." He responded.

   "The fucking pastry chef knows about this too?" Sasha asked with an
incredulous sigh.  "Might as well tell the bus boys while you're at it."

   "She's the only other one.  I swear it is the truth." Gino responded.

   "And how did you know I'd be willing to strip naked and have desserts
stuck to me?" Sasha asked.

   "We didn't -- but we thought the odds were good." Gino replied with a
sly grin.

   "Perhaps you've gotten to know me too well." Sasha said.  "Fine, let's
go." She reached out to Tino for her phone, reversed the camera, and told
John that she loved him.

   "A toast to John -- the world's best boyfriend to the world's best
server!" Stan said.

   "To John!" All the men raised their glasses to John.

   Sasha blew John a kiss and ended the call.  Gino cleared the table. 
Tino went to fetch a bottle of Marsala.  The men mingled about the room.

   Gino offered his hand to help Sasha up onto the table.  She sat,
unsteadily at first, and reclined.  Gino positioned her with her arms just
slightly out from her sides, and her knees slightly separated.  He used a
napkin to wipe the juices off of her thighs, but left her pussy gaping and
dripping as it was.

   The pastry chef entered the room.  She was a short woman, late thirties.
She had shoulder length blonde hair tied back in a pony tail.  Although the
lines on her face showed the worn weariness of someone who had spent
decades in restaurant kitchens, she was still pretty.  She carried with her
a tray of desserts: cookies, tiny cakes, chocolate truffles, a collection
of macarons.

   "I really love macarons." Said Sasha.

   "Have one!" Said the pastry chef, offering one to Sasha's eager lips.

   Sasha devoured the cookie, savoring the sensation of the sweet meringue
melting over her tongue.

   The chef quietly went about her work, distributing the pastries over
Sasha's naked body from her shoulders down to her thighs.  She tried to
avoid staring at the pink syrupy chasm between Sasha's legs.  On the table
between Sasha's shins, the chef placed five small bowls of pistachio
gelato. She leaned over Sasha's face, "I've always wanted to do a dessert
display on a beautiful woman.  You're braver than me!" She said, squeezing
Sasha's arm.  "If you want some desserts to take home, come into the
kitchen after you're done.  I'll make you a box."

   The chef gathered her tools and returned to the kitchen.  Tino poured
Marsala into port glasses for each of the men, who stood around the table
on which Sasha lay, her nakedness on full display, unable to move,
festooned in sweets.

   "Gentlemen, a final toast -- to Sasha, and to the best investors meeting
we've ever had, in every possible sense." Toasted Stan.

   "To Sasha!" Said the men.  And then they began to eat the pastries from
her flesh.  Five at a time, they lifted the sweet treats from Sasha's
breasts, from her hips.  Stan took a chocolate truffle and dipped it into
Sasha's dewy pussy before popping it into his mouth.

   "Mmmmm.  Extraordinary.  Gentlemen -- you have to try that." Stan said.
The others followed suit.  The stimulation triggered small spasms in
Sasha's pussy each time one of the men pressed a truffle between her lips
and slid it up towards her clit.  She struggled to lie still.

   The truffles and most of the pastries gone, Stan grabbed his gelato and
offered it to Sasha.  "Would you like?" He asked.

   "Yes -- my mouth is dry, and I'm hot.  That sounds spectacular." She
replied.

   He spooned the gelato between her waiting lips as she lay on the table.
She reveled in the sensation of the cold sweet cream melting on her tongue
and sliding down her throat.  Stan looked down at her.

   "Your work here is done." He said.  "Thank you for an incredible
evening."

   Stan placed his right hand on Sasha's right thigh, sliding his index
finger down her slit where it came to rest a centimeter inside of her. 
Maybe two.  Before she could protest he bent forward and kissed her on the
lips.  A long, slow, sweet, gelato-tinged kiss.  Sasha pushed her tongue
between Stan's lips and kissed him back.

   "Thank you." Sasha said, feeling her pussy flutter rhythmically around
Stan's finger.  She put her hand to his face and pulled him in for a final
kiss.

   Sasha slid from the table, and collected her clothing, dressing herself
again one item at a time as the men looked on admiringly.  She grabbed a
napkin and blotted her crotch with it to quell the moisture.  She slid her
feet into her shoes and tossed the apron to Gino.  She had no intention of
reclaiming her g-string.  She assumed Stan had planned to keep it
regardless.

   Sasha hugged each of the men and thanked them, shaking their hands one
at a time in turn, before retreating to the kitchen to gather her dessert
box.  The pastry chef seemed surprised.  "You look so different standing
up. And wearing clothes." She said.  Sasha gave her a hug too.  Tino came
through the swinging door and handed Sasha an envelope.

   He whispered to Sasha "That's the thousand dollars I promised.  The
investors added a tip.  Thank again for helping us -- you were amazing. 
You are family now.  We look forward to seeing you and John for dinner
soon."

   Sasha hugged and thanked Tino, slid the envelope in her purse, and
exited the kitchen into the hallway.  She went to the restroom to check
herself in the mirror.

   'Not nearly as disheveled as I expected!' She thought.

   Sasha emptied her bladder, straightened out her clothes, ran her fingers
through her ruffled locks, and opened the restroom door.  She stopped short
in surprise.  Standing in her path was Chidi Nguyen.  He put a hand on
Sasha's chest and pushed her back into the restroom.  He locked the door
behind him.

   "What?  What is this?  What's happening?" Sasha asked fearfully,
confused.

   "You don't know who I am yet, do you?" Chidi asked.

   "No -- you looked familiar to me, but I can't place you." Sasha replied.

   "I'm used to be a business associate of your father." Chidi said.

   Sasha's heart dropped.  Now she knew who he was.  He and her father had
been in business together when she was a small child.  She was pretty sure
he had been at her fifth birthday party.  She hadn't seen him for decades.

   "Mr.  Nguyen!  I do remember you!" Sasha said.

   "I haven't seen your father for many years.  You, even longer." He said.
"Is your father well?"

   "Yes." Sasha said.  "He's healthy.  Retired."

   "I doubt he knows what you're doing for extra cash." Chidi said.

   "Of course not.  No." Sasha responded.

   "That's good.  It would give him a heart attack." Chidi laughed.  "Look
-- I have a lot of different businesses.  One of them is a gentlemen's club
on the other side of town."

   Sasha knew the place.  "The Landing Strip" it was called.  Before that
it had been called "The White Swallow." The new name felt like an upgrade.
As strip clubs go, by reputation, it was a classy establishment.  But Sasha
suspected that even a classy strip club would be seedy.

   "You are more beautiful than any other girl working for me.  Even the
serious professionals.  We have an amateur night on Thursdays.  You should
come dance.  You would do well."

   'Serious professional stripper' felt like a contradiction in terms to
Sasha, but she wasn't going to argue.

   "I can tell you would really enjoy it." Chidi continued.  "Girls can
make a lot of money if you're good.  And you're very good." He handed Sasha
his card, and she slid it into her purse.

   "I'm not sure I could ever strip in public.  That's so different.  I
know it doesn't seem like it, but I'm actually quite shy." Sasha tried to
dismiss the suggestion.

   Chidi moved in close to her, pressing his body against Sasha's, pushing
her back roughly against the sink.  He reached under her skirt and slid his
hand up pushing to fingers up inside her, his thumb clamped down tight over
her clitoris.  Sasha tried to protest but when she opened her mouth, no
sound came out, just a gasp.

   "You come strip at my club, little Sasha." Chidi hissed into her ear. 
"I haven't talked to your father for a long time.  I'm not sure he'd want
to hear from me.  Come next Thursday."

   Chidi curled his fingers hard into Sasha's g-spot before slowly
withdrawing his hand from her skirt.  She winced.  It was a violation, but
it felt delicious.

   "Yeah, ok.  Uhm, Thursday." Sasha said meekly.

   "Good girl.  See you soon." Chidi kissed her on the cheek and exited the
bathroom.  Sasha stood there, head spinning, catching her breath.  She
pulled out the envelope opened it to put Chidi Nguyen's card inside.

   "What the?" She looked in astonishment at the stack of hundred-dollar
bills Tino had passed her.  She relocked the bathroom door and started to
count.  Fifty.  Five thousand dollars.  For four hours of her time, these
men had just given her five thousand dollars.

   "Jesus." Sasha said, blinking incredulously.

   Sasha put the money back into her purse, and called a car to take her
home, where John was waiting, aroused and eager to hear all the details of
her night.  She shared them as they fucked passionately.

   She withheld a couple of items, however.  Sasha did not tell John that a
guy who might just be a Vietnamese gangster might just be blackmailing her
to start stripping.  She also did not tell John that she had been paid five
thousand dollars.

   Everything else, she told John in vivid detail.  When she described the
men dipping their truffles into her sodden pussy, John moaned and began to
thrust harder and faster.  And when Sasha got to the part where five other
men watched as she kissed Stan while he eased his finger into her throbbing
hole as she was splayed naked on the banquet room table, John came in a
spectacular shower of fireworks and stars.