"He's a weirdo," Jessie warned.
I remembered Sapphire telling me about him. He would pay Sapphire to sit with him and smell her feet. Sounds like money for nothing right? Still, I approached him cautiously due to the fact that Jessie wasn't the least bit inclined to go up to him (which usually meant the money was less than easy). A sly dancer named Ronnie suggested we go sit at his table together. We walked across the room to his table, cheerily introduced ourselves and sat down. He eyed us up and down slowly, eerily with a tight skeletal grin creeping up on his face. He then ran his finger tips lightly down my thigh. I forced myself not to shudder. He explained to Ronnie he only wanted one of us. Ronnie got up and left.
The man was Italian, in his early to mid sixties, and had a nasty huge boner the entire session. He wanted me to twist his nipples, when I refused he twisted them himself until I told him he had to stop. While sitting across from him I moved my bare feet up his leg and across his face, keeping them in motion and playing dumb while he kept trying to shove my toes in his mouth and my foot into his crotch. If I let my foot linger on his face or near his crotch he would start shaking in his chair in his chair like he was on the verge of orgasm. It was so embarrassing I had to tell him to stop that too. We were close to the D.J. booth and Mr. D.J. was eyeing us suspiciously. Sure enough after twenty minutes of sitting across from him and letting him kiss on my bare sweaty feet while he eyed my legs like a starving carnivore he handed me five folded up twenties and walked away. It wasn't easy. Each minute with him made me more anxious. Completely unrelated to his foot fetish he gave off such a perverse negative vibe that was so strong I was tempted to forgo the money and leave more than once during our encounter.
If I see him in the club and Sapphire's not around I'm not sure I'll approach him again. It'll probably depend on how shitty a day I'm having.