Tables

Glancing at your unlimited store credit card, and then at your rumbling stomach--you really didn't eat enough at the restaurant--you head down to the tables.

Sitting down, you are almost immediately greeted by one of the bunny-suited boys. He's actually kind of cute, with his ears and the small bulge in his skintight leotard.

"Hungry, sir?" the boy asks.

"Uh, yeah," you say, picking up the menu. "Can I have...the steak? The restaurant signature, please."

"Of, course, sir." the boy says. "And how will you be paying?"

You pull out the unlimited card, and you see the boys eyes widen.

"What?" you ask.

"Nothing, sir. It's just that only the richest and most regular of customers get those and--pardon me saying, sir--you don't exactly look like either."

The bunnyboy's staring has attracted other eyes, too. You see multiple men from nearby tables staring at the exposed, bright green unlimited card.

"Just take it" you say to the bunnyboy, and he takes it and practically runs to the kitchen.

As you sit all alone at the table, occasionally glancing at the male strippers spinning on the poles, you realize the eyes are still on you. Then, you hear someone approach behind you. A strong male hand places itself on your shoulder.

"How'd a cute young boy like you, dressed as you are, get a hold of a card expensive as that?" the man asks.

You turn to face the man, and realize that because he's standing and you're sitting, you aren't facing his head, but rather his other head. His musky crotch is right in your face.

Quickly pulling back, you see the tall, black, suited man is incredibly well-built--not exactly muscular, but obviously very strong. His face has a smile that is a mix of predatory and seductive.