Say Cheese by Keith Buckley

Dinner with Charlie at Basilio’s meant two things-- enormous amounts of Greek food washed down with a bottle of Kourtakis, and heavy groping beneath the restaurant’s flowing blue-checked tablecloths. As usual, Charlie had reserved the booth way in the back corner alcove, and as usual, Gina noticed him slipping Frank, their favorite waiter, a five spot to take his time between pouring the wine and bringing out the saganaki.

Totally predictable. Charlie loved his routines almost as much as he loved getting his hands down a girl’s pants. And sure enough, as soon as they’d settled in their booth and he’d slugged down half a glass of retsina, Charlie was prizing her thighs apart, deftly stretching the tiny triangle of thong away from her shaved lips. Gina smiled dreamily, giving her fiancé just enough time to brush her clit before she leaned into the padded shoulder of his jacket and murmured into his ear, “I think it’s your turn tonight, big boy.”

He raised a questioning bushy eyebrow. “Whatcha got in mind, sugar pussy?” he said.

“Slide your jeans down,” she purred. “I want plenty of elbow room for my handiwork.”

“Mmmmm,” Charlie moaned. “I love equal opportunity.” He lingered for a moment, rubbing the tip of his index finger hard against the spongy tissue behind her pubic bone. Then he grinned broadly and wrinkled his narrow, tanned brow in concentration while he unbuckled his Levi’s and scrunched them around his calves. As Gina got down to business, he rested his head against the booth and closed his eyes.

Gina gently fondled the head of his dick with her right hand, smoothing the drops of clear fluid against her thumb while she reached into her purse with her left hand. “I’ve got something hot and spicy for you, Charlie,” she murmured, cinching her hand under his scrotum, very slowly squeezing the tube in circles along his balls and beneath his ass.

“Oooooh, that is so fuckin’ wild, baby tits!” he sighed. “You’re setting my skin on fire!”

“I knew you’d like that,” she told him. “You like it when I work over your balls, don’t you, stud?” She flicked her tongue around the rim of his left ear and flattened her left hand over his testicles, coming down with the exact kind of teasing pressure Charlie had taught her as she gave his hard cock long, leisurely strokes with her other hand. “Am I going too fast for you, stud?” she whispered. “Are you gonna be able to hold your load?”

“Oh, you know it, you little bitch,” he growled.

Then, after all the build-up, after she’d methodically counted to three hundred, Gina suddenly disengaged herself, picking up her purse, swinging her legs away from the booth and scooting out of arm’s reach.

Charlie’s eyes snapped open and he lurched forward. Bad move, Charlie, she wanted to laugh. He winced, turned his head to one side, gripped the edge of the table. “What the fuck?” he hissed, looking over her shoulder and glancing wide-eyed around the restaurant. “What the fuck did you do?”

Gina pulled up a chair across the table from him, carefully staying beyond the range of both his feet and his balled up hands. She placed the spent tube on an empty appetizer plate. “’Kwiky Glue’?” he barked.

“Keep your voice down, you fucking pig, and maybe you’ll get out of this by the skin of your ass,” Gina told him in a low, flinty voice. “Do you have something you’d like to share with the group, Charlie? Something you’d like to, oh, I don’t know, get off your nuts?”

“I got no idea what-- ”

Gina opened her purse and pulled out a bottle of fingernail polish remover. “See this stuff, Charlie?” She unscrewed the cap and squirted it at his chest.

“You crazy bitch, what are you-- ”

“This is acetone, you ignorant prick,” she smiled. “When you finally figure out what my fucking issue is, maybe I’ll play nice and squirt some all over your worthless ugly ass and let you go. Or maybe I won’t be so nice,” she said, aiming a jet at his face.

“Oh, fuck!” Charlie gasped, jerking forward and tearing off several square inches of buttock.

"We can do this for, what, another good fifteen minutes, thanks to Frank, right?” Gina demanded. She aimed the bottle at the top of his head, making sure to soak his ridiculous perm.

“Okay, your sister, I get it,” he whined. “This is all about Lilly, right? About me doing Lilly?”

“You got it, shithead,” Gina agreed. So she stood up and pumped nearly an ounce down his abdomen. “My seventeen year-old sister at that,” she reminded him.

Charlie gingerly shifted his weight and winced again. “Why isn’t this crap working yet?”

“Because I’m not done, motherfucker,” Gina said. “Why, Charlie, why? My seventeen year-old sister? Why?”

He let his chin fall to his chest, blowing air out from his puffed cheeks. “Yeah, so why not? Fuck it.” Charlie bent forward as far as the glue would allow and leered at her. “You got any idea how fresh young cunt like that smells on your fingers?”

Gina closed her eyes for a moment. “Yeah,” she said, “I knew that was what this was about.” She jerked her head back. “I ever tell you how I knew about this place, Charlie?”

“Screw you,” he said.

She gave him another squirt for good luck. “Frank is Lilly’s godfather,” she said.

And then, there was Frank with the plate of blistered kasseri cheese. “Hey, come on, you beautiful kids,” Frank chuckled, “how many times we been t’ru this?” He picked up the shot glass of Metaxa brandy, poured it over the cheese, flicked his Bic, and said, “So—one, two, three-- ”

“Opa!” crowed Gina as Frank dumped the flaming spirits into Charlie’s lap.