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Next Friday I went straight to the VIP room and ordered the champagne. I told myself I’d budgeted. I hadn’t.
Jade did the routine. The knickers down to her knees and back up. The arch across my lap. The trickle of fizz between her tits.
“Oops,” she said.
I watched it go and realised I’d seen this exact moment twice already: once in my lap, once in the lap of a man in a pinstripe suit. The same angle. The same little gasp. I could have mouthed it along with her.
It was still extremely hot. That was the problem.
She whispered the filthy things again. Same words, I noticed. Same order. I was still hard enough to hammer nails. She still didn’t let me touch her. The buzzer went at exactly the moment the bottle ran dry, which I was beginning to suspect was not a coincidence.
“Settle up at the bar, babe.”
Four hundred and sixty this time. Prices had gone up.
The barman ran my card. It went through, just. On the way out, Dez held the door again and gave me a long look.
“Twice?” he said.
“Twice.”
“There’s a bloke who’s been coming in every Friday for three years,” Dez said. “Champagne every week. Nearly bought her a car.” He shrugged. “Don’t be that bloke, mate.”
I sat in the car park and checked my balance on my phone. Then I sat there a while longer with the engine off, doing sums and wondering what exactly I’d been buying.
Ending 14 of 25: Same Bottle Twice. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.