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A note to readers: This is a long story that unfolds chapter by chapter through the eyes of two protagonists — Mark and Elsa, and as in many of my other stories involves a growing spate of horny characters. Every ten chapters or so I will provide a short summary at the start of that episode to bring new readers up to date (see start of Ch. 60). This story could appear in a number of genres (Loving Wives, Incest, Lesbian, Fetish, and more) depending on the chapter, but the overall theme is Group, so I have applied this moniker to all chapters. The story is still being written, yet I intend to post a new chapter every couple of days. Enjoy.
Chapter 68 — Stacy and the Club Infinity
I sat in the conference room at Darwin Architectural Group with Greg, Sean, and Elsa. They were all grinning. Sean explained, “You’re the first client to see this new system. It’s like the fly-through we showed you several times of the house on the large laptop, but this is like a hundred times more realistic. For one, it’s big screen TV, and then we added music given the kind of venue, and some of the avatars actually move around the screen giving the feel of a movie. We can create movie layers and they blend together. It’s cool technology. Several of us here are learning the app.”
Greg said, “This is state of the art stuff. You’ll feel like you’re actually at your club if you sit right in front of the screen.” He turned to Elsa, “Roll it, babe.” He flipped off the overhead lights.
Elsa made a few keystrokes on a computer keyboard and a large screen TV that almost filled the opposite wall came to life. We were standing at the street looking at a sleek two-story building with the words’Infinity’ emblazoned across a marquee over the door. There was beautiful landscaping around the building and parking areas.
I asked, “Where’d the name ‘Infinity’ come from? I like it.”
Greg responded, “We had a contest in the company for two days last week. Everyone here, about thirty of us, knows about the club and the kind of entertainment. We offered a free lunch at the pizza place down the street to the person that came up with the best name for the club that the three of us liked. A young graphic artist that really knows this software named Stacy won.”
“If she’s free, I’d like to meet her.”
Elsa snickered, “Oh, you’ll love her. She’s your type.”
I teased, “And what’s my type?”
Elsa teased, “Fuckable. Cute and fuckable. Stacy is both. I’d even like to get into her panties.” Greg and Sean laughed, but nodded enthusiastically. I was surprised the poor girl had retained her virtue in the workplace as long as she had with those three.
I suggested, “Well, invite her to our next party. Maybe she’d like to play with us.” I know I had a lecherous grin on. I already knew I had an insatiable appetite for new pussy. If Stacy happened to be new pussy, so much the better.
Greg gestured to the TV. The view segued to a current photograph. “We think this will be the view from the street. Of course, the dirt parking area will become paved and well lit. We wanted some outdoor lasers too to call attention to the place; you know, sweeping around the sky, but the FAA has rules about that, so we have to be careful.”
Elsa manipulated the mouse the screen flipped back to the proposed renovated building and we came up to the entrance. The scene shifted to look like night. As we neared the door, we could hear the throbbing back beat of some retro music. Every now and then my brain tricked me into thinking I was actually walking into a nightclub named Club Infinity.
Inside we went through a dark foyer, past a bouncer, and then came out into a wide spacious club scene with a high ceiling and a balcony around three sides of a stage. Laser lights occasionally flashed around the room in sync with the music. The place was modern, chrome, shiny, and loaded with class and glitz.
I turned and asked, “Has Stacy seen this?”
Greg and Sean said, “Kind of. She did some of the frames and layers for it, but Sean and I integrated it all together over last weekend. So, just the three of us have seen it like this.”
“Get her in here. I want her to see this. She’s earned it in my book for coming up with a great name alone, besides whatever she contributed to this presentation.”
Elsa backed us out of the club and back to the parking lot looking at the front door. I became aware of some nondescript human forms moving through the scene to the front door of the club.
Sean reappeared with a cute dark haired girl who had Goth tendencies with her makeup. She had a couple of visible tattoos, and looked a little shocked that she’d been singled out to join a meeting that had real clients in it.
Sean introduced us, “Stacy, this is Mark Worthington. Our client for the club you named.”
I stood and shook her hand. “You did a great job. I love the name. I think that’ll stick. I felt you should see the computerized version of the club, and then I hope you’ll be my guest when the club opens. Greg said that you contributed some to this walk-through güvenilir bahis video.”
Stacy burst out in a gorgeous smile from ear to ear, “Really? I mean … I just always kind of liked that name for a club. It has such great meanings and innuendo to it; and, yes, I did some work on the interior layers and décor.”
I patted the seat next to me, “Have a seat and watch.” Stacy sat, but was obviously a little nervous. She kept looking between me, Greg, and Sean to be sure she was doing everything desired of her.
Elsa started the walk-through again. We walked into the club again hearing the music and seeing the sexy lights and lasers as we came in the door. Stacy leaned forward and watched with her eyes riveted to the screen. Every now and then she’d mutter, “Oh, wow!” or “Cool!”
On the stage in the club was a sexy girl dancing around a pole. She didn’t have much on, and her breasts shook in time to the music as she bounced around the stage. She was about as real as you could get and not an avatar. The place was full of people, most in the shadows. A few were also dancing on a dance floor. The girl on the stage tossed her bra into the crowd to a cheer. Wearing only a thong she continued to dance.
The ‘camera’ shifted to the busy bar with three bartenders racing around to service the crowd. A few plates of food raced through the scene too, on the way to patrons’ tables. The realism was superb.
The view shifted and we went up a flight of stairs to the VIP area. Sofas and booths looked down on the stage and dance floor and a large part of the club. The female dancer was still performing around her pole. A few intimate booths were also included upstairs, and in a couple of them we could see couples making out, one even on verge of fucking.
The screen dimmed and the presentation faded to black. The whole walk-through had only lasted about four minutes.
Greg turned to us. “That’s the Club Infinity. Is it OK? I hope you liked it. Your comments, please.”
I said in a serious tone, “I’m sorry, I didn’t like it.” There was a gasp in the room, including from Stacy. After the pause I loudly said, “I LOVED IT. It’s perfect. How did you get the realism of the stripper, the dancers, the couple in the booth, the bartenders, and so on?”
Elsa said, “We filmed them. They were real. The stripper works in the club now; her name is Kate; I thought we’d keep her; she’s a good dancer. We faked a bar scene, if you look closely at the bartenders, you’ll see that they’re Greg, Sean, and me. The couple in the booth is Sean and me, but we made it dark so you couldn’t tell, only that we were making out hot and heavy. Those scenes all got overlaid and blended into the computer model.”
Stacy was mute but looking at me with a star struck look. Elsa caught her looking at me and smirked without her seeing. I knew what my girlfriend was thinking.
I complimented the architects on the simulation, and their design of the club. A more traditional presentation done in PowerPoint followed. I got to see more photographs of the existing building including the one outdoor shot that Elsa showed me two weeks earlier.
I asked, “When can I go in the Club Infinity?” I pointed at the blank TV screen.
Greg said, “About three months. We’re hoping to have it open around Thanksgiving. We were thinking of a grand opening around December first.”
“Who’s doing the renovation work?”
A familiar voice bellowed into the room from the door behind me, “I AM, OF COURSE.”
I turned and Doug Reed strode into the room with a roll of plans under his arm. We had a great reunion. I introduced Stacy to him. She was obviously swept up in the flow of events regarding the club, blushed to almost the red color of the streaks in her hair, but was exceptionally polite and deferential.
We talked about the construction process, the crews, permits he’d already submitted, and the HVAC, plumbers, security system, and electrical contractors. A special audio contractor was also involved, who could also handle installing the lasers and other fancy lights that would provide a lot of the atmosphere. Elsa chimed in talking about the décor; she had Alice Grace involved, and was already ordering tables, chairs, sofas, booths, workstations, and so on for the place because of the lead times. She unfurled a huge project plan that covered ninety days detailing what would be going on everyday.
I pointed at the blank TV screen and asked, “That rendition showed art on the walls. Where’s that come from? Who did what was in the video?”
There was a long silence. Sean responded, “The art in the computer simulation was done by Stacy, but we haven’t located an artist to do the club just yet. Alice is involved.”
I turned to Stacy, “Could you do that for real — full size on all four walls and over the bar?”
She looked shocked that I’d suddenly referred to her. She blurted out, “Yes, even better than what I did for the simulation. I just kind of dashed that off in a hurry last week.”
I turned to Greg. “I want to hire her … and I’ll buy her türkçe bahis the pizza lunch you promised her. Actually, I’ll do better tonight. Why don’t all of us go to dinner? Doug, Stacy, can you join us?”
Stacy responded affirmatively, but Doug bowed out. We covered some more details. Stacy seemed uncomfortable for a while. I gestured for Elsa to talk to her. I saw the two of them put their heads together for a while, and then Stacy seemed to relax and go with the flow.
We got into dozens of details about construction and the final look and feel of the place, both inside and out. I thought December first was aggressive, but Doug assured me that he was going to use the same simultaneous multiple crews on site approach that he had used on the house. He hoped to beat that date by a couple of weeks. I made my offer about a five percent bonus to every worker if we made that date as the grand opening.
Greg, Sean, and Doug had a discussion about critical paths, even highlighting a number of tasks on the large project flowchart. Stacy was taking this all in like a drink from a fire hose. Occasionally, she’d inject a comment or suggestion; we listened to her and acted on what she said to her obvious delight and satisfaction. The girl had a brain on her shoulders.
I got to size her up a little more. She was wearing mostly black despite the August temperatures outside: black shoes, tights, skirt, and vest over a dark gray sleeveless scoop neck blouse. She had a colorful scarf around her neck that contrasted beautifully with a colored tattoo of a rose on her bare shoulder and a small heart off center in her cleavage. She had a small diamond stud in side of her nose and a small barbell through one eyebrow. Her ebony hair had streaks of dark blue and red in it that matched the color in her scarf. I wondered whether she had other tattoos or piercings, and made a bet with myself that she did and that I’d find out sometime soon.
Greg broke out a couple of bottles of wine, and we toasted the project and each other. I asked Stacy “Do you like music — live music?”
“Yes,” she crooned. “All kinds.”
“Do you know the local bands? Who’s the best for a club like this?”
“That’d be the Diamonds. Six men and two women. They’re the best. Great blues and rock.”
“Do you know them personally?”
“I went to school with one of the band members, so sort of.”
“Can you see if they’re able to accept bookings from December first to the middle of January or February?” I turned to Greg, “I’m sorry, I’m sort of taking over your employee. Is that OK?”
Greg nodded and laughed, “Yes, if it’s OK with her.”
I turned to Stacy, “May I give you crazy assignments like this one. There’ll be others as I think of them. Elsa can be your primary contact back to me when I’m unavailable.”
Stacy looked shocked, “But … but … you don’t even know me.”
“I will over the next few weeks. I might add that I pay very well for those that do a good job.” I looked at Greg, “I assume I’ll put her on my payroll.”
Greg shrugged, “Whatever you want, if it’s all right with Stacy.”
Stacy promised with some fervor, “I’ll do a great job for you … I hope.”
“Get me a demo CD of the band, and then if I like them line up that band then. You know the clubs. We want to put this place on the map over those six or ten weeks, plus it’s peak holiday and party time. I want Club Infinity to be party central — the ‘go to’ place for every person of legal age within three hundred miles. I want every Christmas and holiday party to think of the place.
Stacy said, “I studied marketing in college, but I’m inexperienced.”
“Good, you know enough to get the right company involved ginning up advanced publicity and bookings.” I pointed at the screen, “Use some of those images in the PR campaign. Wednesday through Saturday nights that place should be jamming. Figure out what nights we’re closed and all that.”
“ME?” Stacy pleaded.
“Yes. Act like the manager of this club. What would you do to make it great?”
“Oh, God,” she said in a shaky voice.
Mark took the four of us to Top of the City, the restaurant on the tallest building in the city — the only building taller than Worthington Towers where his headquarters was, and only slightly taller than the building with our condo in it. As Mark, Greg, Sean, Stacy and I walked in, several of the security types were around and nodded at us; they’d already cleared the area and the restaurant so we knew it was generally safe to enter and dine. I explained about the bodyguards to Stacy; she was confused but impressed.
Suddenly, the whole scene became clear to her. She stopped and grabbed my elbow like she about to fall off of the planet and said in a whisper, “HOLY SHIT. Is that guy Mark Worthington, I mean THAT Mark Worthington — the billionaire guy?” She pointed at Mark as he walked a few paces ahead of us.
I really thought Stacy would faint. She’d stopped walking, her eyes closed and she swayed around a little unsure of her equilibrium. She opened güvenilir bahis siteleri them almost in tears, “And HE wants ME to work for HIM personally?”
“Seems like it. Stacy, I’m one of his girlfriends. He’s a good guy. I’ll help you.”
“OH, MY GOD … I just pieced it together … I’m new at the company … but I got it now … You’re the girl that got shot last summer, aren’t you? You killed that guy that was about to kill you.”
I smiled at her, “I am.”
She asked me if I had recovered completely from being shot by Myron Tanner. I assured her that I only had a few interesting scars on my leg from the event. I even pulled my skirt up and flashed my thigh at her with the scars. Of course, my bare pussy was there in sight too. I was actually tossing out some chum on the sexual waters. I told her I was still working on strengthening my leg muscles.
Stacy eyes got large as she saw the scar. She was quiet for a while and then asked about the strippers. “I saw the girl in the video. She was pretty and did a great reveal, at least to her thong. Is that in the plan for the real club?”
I told her, “It sure is. We have some friends who’ll appear on amateur nights, but we need some other talent. Stripping all the way down will be the norm, we hope.”
Mark heard the comment and intervened as we sat down, “Hey, that’s a great point. Do you know any world class women who’d like a job as the entertainment at the Club Infinity? ” He looked eagerly at Stacy.
Stacy said, “No … I don’t think so. I know some good looking friends, but I don’t know how well they can dance or work a crowd like I think they’d need to do.”
I chimed in, “And give lap dances to both men and women.”
Mark said, “Elsa! You’re a genius. We need to have a woman’s night — girls’ night out kind of thing — male strippers, and all that. Like the Chippendales maybe. Handsome and muscular. Six pack abs.” He turned to Stacy, “Do you know any of those types?”
Stacy laughed, “No, but I can try to find them. I’d start at the local gym.”
Mark laughed with her, “Right attitude.”
We had a great dinner. Stacy was mostly quiet absorbing everything that was happening, and now suffering severe hero worship about Mark, the Billionaire. At one point I saw her pull her cellphone out and start to take notes about what she’d been asked to do. She smiled at me, “I don’t want to forget anything.”
I indicated, “You and I are about to become close friends on this project. Mark likes you. You’re his type, after all.”
“His type; what’s that?”
I whispered to her, “Cute and fuckable. He’s a masterful lover.”
“But … but … aren’t you his girlfriend?”
“One of them. You can be his girlfriend too. We share. I’m not putting you on. If you like Mark — and it better not be for his money — then it’s all right with all of us for you to be as friendly and intimate with him as you want. No pressure though. You get just as good a job and pay remaining chaste.”
Stacy recoiled, “I’d never go after a guy for his money. That’s insane.”
I laughed, “I agree. Good response. You’ll do fine; just follow your bliss.”
Stacy now split her time staring at me and at Mark. Greg and Sean were incidental company at our table.
After dinner, Greg and Sean set out on foot to go back to their office to get their cars and head home. Mark sent good wishes through them to their wives, even hinting that he’d like to get together sexually with them in the near future.
Stacy looked at me as we walked out, “Was he serious?”
I simply said, “We live an open lifestyle and have a lot of like-minded friends.”
I could see her digesting that. I had a short little talk with her about our non-disclosure agreement and about keeping her mouth shut about what she sees, hears, or participates in. She got it and readily agreed to sign one. I also explained about the secrecy of the project as far as my sisters were concerned. We wanted to spring this on them at the grand opening.
We used the limousine to drop off Stacy at her apartment, a unit in a building not too different from what I’d been living in when I met Mark.
The next morning she was in before I was and sitting beside my desk making lists. She pushed a handwritten list in front of me. It listed the major tasks she’d been assigned. She asked, “Is this right? Am I forgetting anything?” • Hire female strippers • Hire male strippers • Layout management and operations plan for Club • Identify manager candidates • Create club artwork (by November?) • Coordinate with Alice Somebody about art and décor • Hire bands/other entertainment • Visit other clubs I asked, “What do you mean by hire other entertainment?”
Stacy replied, “If you really want a broad audience to attend this club, it has to be more than just a strip joint. We need top, brand name comedians, commentators, or interesting people to appear. Do you ever go to Ted.com? I was thinking of some of their talks even. We need comedians too — entertainment that gives people a good experience, even an intellectual one once in a while. Maybe the strippers appear later in the evening. I haven’t figured that out yet, but you want to draw in a mixed crowd, not just the leering construction and farm guys; they’re too unreliable for a good income stream.”
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