Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Greta Matthews
Upon applying to The Parlour, located in the heart of New Orleans' French Quarter, owner Micah Davenport hired me immediately to work as a bartender.
I've been in that location for about three months.
While listening, I caught some bartenders and servers talking about a different club.
I was curious about it, so I asked Lizbeth, the lady who seems to run things in the back.
I remember the gleam in her eyes when she confirmed that the rumors were true.
There is an exclusive underground club where all your fantasies can come true with the swipe of a finger.
The process is rigorous, besides an interview with Lizbeth. They run a background check and a medical history. They even asked for my shoe size. Everything is easy since there isn’t too much to my life.
I’m twenty-five years old and still a virgin.
Growing up, I always wanted my first time to be with someone I was in love with, not a first-date guy who couldn’t remember my name.
When I heard about the fantasies, I figured what better way to get it over and done with, because I’m tired of waiting for Mr. Right to come along.
I know he’s out there, and maybe once I’m no longer a virgin, I can finally relax on dates.
I set down the phone on the dresser in my room and head towards my closet.
I pull my black hair into a messy bun on top of my head, turn on my tunes, and start the lengthy process of getting ready for work. I never know when I’m going to work the Underground, so I need to look like I just rolled out of bed without trying too much.
I’m standing in my dingy, one-room apartment, my closet is the pantry, the sofa pulls out to a bed, and I have a college-size refrigerator and a hot plate to cook on. It’s cheap, and no one bothers me. I remove my pink robe, completely naked.
“You don’t look too slutty,” I say as I look at myself.
I wear smoky eye makeup, bright red lipstick, a black minidress, and black high heels.
My feet are usually killing me by the third hour of my eight-hour shift.
I leave my apartment wearing sneakers because walking two miles in high heels before starting to bartend would be a bad idea.
It’s only a couple of miles, and I love the electricity of New Orleans.
I notice that Lizbeth’s office door is open. I yell hello like I always do when I arrive and head to my locker to finish getting ready for my shift at the bar. Lizbeth calls me into her office. I knock on the door, waiting for her to let me in.
“Come in.” I walk into the office and stand in front of her desk, waiting for her to acknowledge me. “Greta.” She looks at me and smiles. “I’m going to need you to work at The Parlour.”
“I know. I’m already scheduled.” My gaze towards her is peculiar.
“The Parlour Underground.” My stomach flops as I realize Lizbeth finally approved my application.
“Someone wants a virgin for his fantasy. You’ll need to be there in like twenty minutes, so I found someone to cover your shift.
Here is what he wants you to dress like.
” She hands me a printout, “Greta, go into the company clothing closet and talk to Tabatha. Show her the list so she can help you pick everything out.” I open the list, and my hands shake.
Lizbeth takes notice of me and rises from her chair to walk over to me.
“Relax, let the man guide you. It’s a new experience for you. If you don’t want to do it, I can find someone else.”
“No, I’m okay. Thank you for your concern. I’ll go see Tabatha.” I smile as I walk out of the office into the employee lounge. I’m about to lose my virginity to a man that I’ve never met before.
White thigh highs
White high heels
White long nightgown
Hair down
Champagne
Strawberries
My fantasy is a virginal wedding night.
The female must be curvy.
I want her to knock on the door wearing an all-white nightgown, thigh-highs, heels, bringing champagne and strawberries.
I don’t want her to know my name, and no kissing unless I initiate it.
Oh, I’ll need at least thirty minutes to get myself ready.
His wish for a wedding night scenario makes me wonder. I close the paper and head out to the employee lounge. I don’t have anything virginal like this in my closet. Entering the clothing closet, I spot Tabatha folding some new merchandise for the tables, and opted to browse.
I walk around the tables, feeling the beautiful silk panties.
After finding a white pair of silk panties that fit me, I decided against them because they didn't feel appropriate for a wedding night, and kept searching.
I walk to the next table and find a beautiful pair of lace boy shorts.
I put them in the black bag that I picked up when I first walked in.
“Hello there. Can I help find anything?” The blonde in the red suit asks me with a smile on her face.
“I’m looking for something to wear on my wedding night that’s romantic and not overly see-through. Does something like this exist?” I smile back at her.
“Yes, we do. Come this way, please.” I follow Tabatha towards the back of the storeroom. She shows me one that is too trashy for my fantasy’s tastes, but I’m hoping to find the trashy one online because it looks sexy. I love wearing lingerie.
“This is great, but I need something more virginal.” I blush saying it, but with Tabatha knowing why I’m here, she doesn’t seem to judge me for it.
“I know the perfect one.” I follow her and smile as I walk through the beautiful clothing.
“I really need to come back to find out where you get these, so I can add them to my personal collection. There is so much that I want.”
“Half of my paycheck goes to that store. I’ll write down the website and a coupon code that I have for first-time customers. Lizbeth got us a great deal.” She laughs as we step in front of this white silk floor-length nightgown with a plunging neckline and lace. It comes with a satin robe.
“It’s perfect. I’ll take it.” Tabatha smiles, and we head over to find white high heels. I see a garter belt; I grab those with thigh-highs. I see a few women about my age coming in. From the fact that I've never seen them in the bar, I deduce they must be from underground.
“Thank you for your help,” I tell Tabatha. “Okay, let’s do this fantasy.” I let out a shaky breath as I went to the locker room to change.