We followed her inside to find a long table filled with guests who obviously arrived on time. The room was dimly lit, and we were ushered quickly to four open seats. As soon as we sat down servers wearing white tux shirts and black pants entered the room, five at a time and in three groups. They moved quickly to each guest, placing a blindfold over their eyes.
“What the hell have you gotten us into, Ace?” I asked as a cute blonde covered my eyes with the black cloth.
“Blind dining,” he said with a laugh.
A woman’s voice sounded in the room. She told us the blindfolds must remain over our eyes at all times. We would each have a server to help us with our silverware and even help feed us if needed. I imagined this is what life in a nursing home would be like, unable to see, having help with your utensils, and probably dribbling food on your chin. When we were wrapped with large bibs, I was thankful no one else could see me like this.
“There will be eight courses,” she announced. “Each a unique experience that I hope you all will love.”
Whitney sounded excited about the experience, but Holly was obviously bummed that the two hours she spent getting ready and pushing her boobs to her chin was going to be wasted in the dark.
The first course arrived, and the blonde woman who had blindfolded me whispered in my ear as she handed me my fork. “I’ll guide you.” Her voice was soft and sweet, and her hand delicate as she led me to the plate and then to my mouth. Lemon seabass landed on my tongue, and I was delighted it hadn’t been something gross. I wasn’t a picky eater, but there were a few things on my don’t eat list, like mushrooms, dill pickles, and radishes.
By the sixth course, I had lightened up, realizing everything offered up was tasty and enjoyable. I felt a hand on my leg and then on my crotch. The hard denim of my jeans pushed against my cock creating enough friction to bring it alive. I leaned towards Whitney and whispered, “You already looking for dessert?” She giggled, and her hand rubbed my arm.
I froze.
My fork was in my left hand, and I knew Whitney’s was most likely in her right, so when her left hand stroked my arm, alarm set in. Someone was rubbing my cock, but it wasn’t my girlfriend.
I squirmed in my seat as I tried to remember who I’d been seated beside. A woman, that much I knew for sure, but I hadn’t had the time to really notice any details about her appearance. My zipper was tugged, and two fingers slid into the opening. I reached down, pushed the hand away and quickly re-zipped my pants before the last course arrived.
When the blindfolds were removed, I immediately looked to my left to put a face to the hand. It was a cute little brunette with big green eyes and a mischievous smile. My entire head felt hot as we made eye contact. I quickly moved my gaze to Whitney, grasped her hand, and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “Did you enjoy that?” I asked, maybe a little too quickly because she gave me an are you okay look.
“Yes, it was incredible,” she replied, still eying me.
Ace was wiping a piece of food from Holly’s face with his napkin; her hand was on his leg. They appeared to have become very close during what I thought a very impersonal dinner. Maybe she’d made it more intimate like the little brunette sitting next to me tried to do.
“Okay, now for some fun,” Ace announced, scooting his chair away from the table. He pulled Holly’s chair out for her and took her hand as she stood. I followed suit, not to be shown up by the biggest player in New York and helped Whitney from her seat.
Ace had a personal driver waiting in a black limo outside the restaurant. “Wow, you travel in style,” I noted as I motioned for Whitney and then Holly to climb inside. I slid in next to Whitney, and Ace took the spot by Holly. His hand immediately found its way to her leg, high above her knee and dangerously close to pushing under the hem of her dress. Whitney leaned her head on my shoulder and kissed me softly on the neck. I loved the way the simplest touch from her could send tingles through my entire body. I hated that those same tingles were felt by the brunette under the table at dinner and wondered if I should confess to what happened.
No, not a good idea, Calvin, leave it be. I only felt that way because I thought it was Whitney, that’s all.
We pulled up in front of a nightclub that had a line six blocks long. “This place looks packed,” I said as I stared out the window.
“Always room for the Beasts,” Ace said, that shit eating grin in place.
The driver opened the door and escorted Whitney and Holly from their seats. Ace slid out of his seat, and by the time I had my feet on the concrete, he was already at the front of the line talking to the doorman. His smile let us know we were in, and when he turned around, a few people in the front of the line called out his name, but he ignored them.
Then someone called out another name. Mine.
“Calvin Malone, you rock!”
I was in shock. We were a new team. We hadn’t even played a game yet, but news about the new team pitcher traveled fast, I assumed. It was impossible to tell who yelled out the compliment, so I simply smiled and waved in the direction of the crowd before following Ace and the ladies into the club.
Not only were we inside without a wait, we were escorted to a VIP section near the dance floor. “I’ve heard some great things about you,” the tall red-headed waitress whispered in my ear as she motioned us to our booth.
“Thanks,” I said, feeling a little flushed with embarrassment. I wasn’t used to the type of attention Ace had grown accustomed to, at least not yet. He was already signing autographs for fans as they swarmed our table, mostly women in short dresses and large fake breasts pushed high on their chests. A couple of them trickled over to me.
“You’re a new pitcher, right?” a cute little blonde asked.
“Yes, I am,” I agreed and then signed my name on the napkin she handed me.
“I don’t have anything for you to write on,” a dark-eyed brunette said playfully, “except me.” She pushed her chest towards my hand. Whitney had a grip on my leg, and I knew she wasn’t pleased with the girls, but they were fans, we were a new team, and Rhett had told us to mingle and keep people happy. I pressed my marker against her flawless flesh and scribble my autograph quickly before handing her back the pen. She batted her eyes, bit her bottom lip and winked before walking away.
“Wow,” Whitney gasped. “It’s like I don’t even exist to these women.” I knew she wanted to use another word, maybe whores or sluts, but she was too nice for that.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I whispered in her ear.