The wind chimes hanging just inside the entrance did their job, clattering with an earsplitting intensity as the hydraulic arm of the rightmost double door swung open. Catherine flinched, not sure if she should search for the volume control or snatch the mini earphones from her ears. The Super Snooper 4000 had delivered exactly as advertised; it amplified sounds by a factor of “up to fifty times” when the tiny parabolic antenna was aimed properly. Catherine cursed both the technology and her own stupidity realizing painfully that the damn thing was not going to discriminate between whispers and things that required no amplification whatsoever; like door chimes, blaring car horns or howling babies. Whispers, in particular, the whispers of men, were the target of her curiosity.

The book she was writing, “Under Their Breath: Things Men Say About Women to Other Men”, required some in-field research. To gather her data she began cruising places where she was certain men exchanged their locker room filth when within sight of attractive females. In her mind, there was no better place to begin covertly harvesting material than from a cozy booth at Little Richard’s Pub, a popular pick-up bar on the western part of Richmond. Little Richard’s, also referred to as “Little Dick’s” among West-End women, was known as a popular pick-up joint. Though she’d never been there personally, she was intrigued by the reputation the place held for women who regularly trolled Little Dick’s looking for big ones.

“Hey, Cat! Did you get it?” Sam blurted out excitedly, slipping into the booth across from Catherine who was holding the tiny earphones in her hands. Samantha, her best friend in the world and biggest cheerleader on her book project, was excited for a couple of reasons. Sam was Catherine’s best friend, and she was delighted that Catherine had asked her to help write the book. Actually, writing was not the contribution to the project Sam had in mind. As a perpetual flirt, she forcefully volunteered to be the “laboratory monkey” to provide necessary stimulus for a valid study. She was going to be bait, “fuck monkey”, was more like it, according to Pamela her other best friend. They all howled that night the idea was hatched, and Sam beamed with pride that her key role as man-bait had been unanimously approved.

“Yesss,” Catherine hissed back. “Will you pipe down? This needs to be somewhat covert to be successful, Samantha.” She always called her Samantha when either a good scolding or other mother-like guidance was deemed necessary.

Sam brought her hand to her mouth and giggled. “Sorry, I’m just so excited about this.”

She was nearly bouncing in her seat. Hazel green eyes flashed as she scanned the room for potential big ones. “Does it work?”

“Oh hell yes, does it work. I accidentally tested it when you came through the door a couple of seconds ago. I’d just turned it on; not realizing the volume was cranked, and the door chimes nearly blew my frickin’ brains out.”

Sam stuck out her lower lip and cooed genuine sympathy, “Oh sweetie, I’m sorry.”

Catherine readjusted the earphones once again and grinned at Sam. “Okay, it’s time to focus. Are you wearing them?”

“Uh-huh! Red and ready,” whispered Sam. She was ready to execute her role as the fuck monkey. Trolling for guys was her self-proclaimed specialty. She had the legs for it too, and didn’t mind showing them off, especially when her blood alcohol level was elevated to a state she called ‘irresistible’. To be honest, she already was, even without the drinks in her, but irresistibility had to be established in her own mind before the legs came out for show.

In their group discussion a week earlier they plotted about what kinds of things would strike up the kind of guy-talk worth capturing. Ideas flowed with the wine they had had, and consensus opinion was established at Sam’s insistence that leg-play and a few strategic panty shots were a sure guarantee to set a testosterone feeding frenzy into motion. Sam’s idea to showcase a flash or two of her red silk panties with a few crossings of long legs would be all that was necessary to start tongues wagging. And to Sam, there was nothing better than a wagging tongue, especially when she was steering it by the ears.

 * * *

The bar was mostly deserted at 4:15PM. Catherine was still nursing a glass of chardonnay as Sam passed the mid-point of her second glass of cabernet. It was obvious Sam was working hard to put on her game face. Another couple sat across the room in booth and chatted quietly. At the rear of the pub, the usual charter drunks had their barstools warmed up for the evening and were doing their part to ensure everyone was at least a second-hand smoker. Beyond the occasional sideways glance from one of the lounge lizards hugging the bar, there were no targets on site yet. Catherine was pleased that she’d have time to practice the art of discreet listening before it was time to turn Sam loose on an unsuspecting male population.

The tiny antenna was made of clear plastic and was small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. The device was wireless, so the earphones were hidden under her hair. The trick was holding the antenna still enough to hear a complete conversation. The wall was to her right side and the open area of the room was off her left shoulder. This allowed her to sit with the antenna in her right hand with her left lying casually over top. By simply pivoting her right wrist she could sweep the entire string of booths on the far side of the bar. After a little practice she found that zeroing in on a conversation was fairly easy to do.

“What are they talking about?” asked Sam, watching the grin that was growing silently on Catherine’s face as she listened to the other couple’s conversation

Catherine held up a finger for Sam to be patient. “His wife knows he’s been fucking around on her, but he’s pretty sure that she doesn’t know who he’s screwing.” Catherine giggled. “Now she’s telling him that maybe they should cool it for a while.”

“Bastard,” whispered Sam. “We should get a camera too, and we could be like detectives and rat them…

“Right! Like you’ve never fucked a married man, Samantha,” interrupted Catherine.

“Well. . .sure, Catherine,” Sam replied, emphasizing her entire first name before justifying herself, “but I wasn’t the one cheating. They were.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. That’s right, you’re the innocent one. You were only contributing to the delinquency of a married man. For a second there I thought possibly you’d actually been riding on a penis that belonged to another woman or something. I apologize, that’s my mistake. You were certainly guilt-free in all those liaisons,” Catherine said sarcastically.

“Jesus, Cat! Look who’s talking. You were…” Sam froze in mid-sentence as the door chimes signaled the entrance of four men who were laughing and joking with one another. They stopped as if on queue, waiting for their eyes to adjust to the dimly lit pub. After a short moment, one of them pointed to a booth almost directly across the dance floor from where Catherine and Sam were seated.   

Catherine looked up as her friend stopped speaking to see what distracted her so abruptly. Not to her surprise, it was four men who put Sam on point. God, was she ever a cock hound. Secretly, she was concerned that Sam’s magnetic attraction to men would spoil any chances of gathering any useful covert conversations. What good would it do to hear four guys trying to fight her off? She just shook her head and smiled. 

Sam reached over and began feverishly tapping on Catherine’s arm like a puppy begging for a ball to be thrown. “Lookie, lookie, Cat!”

“Sammie, will you relax? Gawd, you are the only twenty-six year old eighth-grader I know. Are you always in heat?”

Sam laughed. “Yup, and I’m the perfect woman for the job.”

“Here,” she said, handing her one of the earphones, “put this in your ear and you’ll be able to listen too.”

The guys walked over to the booth and sat down. One of them wearing a mock turtle and blazer went over to the bar and placed an order for the first round before joining the others. In a matter of seconds the guys noticed the two women across the room trying unsuccessfully to not be interested in their arrival.  

“Two babes at my three,” said the guy on the outside seat, stroking his beard.

“Yum,” said Blazer. 

“You have no idea how yummy, my man,” giggled Sam.

“Shhh,” interjected Catherine. “Let them talk. I’m not going to get a thing if you’re all over them before they have a chance.  

“OK. OK! Isn’t this cool? It’s like we’re sitting right there with them and they don’t even know it.” 

“The one on the left is hot, man,” said Beard. “I’m guessing those legs go all the way up.”

“What about me?” whispered Catherine.

“Shhh! Let them talk,” Sam retaliated gleefully, wagging her shoulders at Catherine.

Shirt and Tie added, “I’d fuck ‘em both, dude, right there on that table.” 

“There, see, Cat! There’s enough dick to go around. Here, let’s make room on the table.” Sam shoved her wineglass quickly to the side. They both laughed.  

The guy with his hair pulled back in a ponytail finally waded into the conversation. “I do believe that you clowns would miss the party.” 

“What the fuck you mean by that?” challenged Blazer.

“Yeah, you got a better idea?” chimed in Beard, with Shirt and Tie adding a companion glare.

“As a matter of fact, I do. Fuckin’s not the first order of business, gentlemen. Nothing’s better than a pussy that’s been properly prepared by dragging a slow kiss through it first.”

“Amen to that,” whispered Samantha.

 “Sweet Jesus,” added Catherine, shifting in her seat at the thought of that ponytail lingering between her legs.

“Aww, man. You’re crazy. My tongue’s not ever gonna’ come, so why bother?” said Beard.

“Right on,” added Blazer, “I’d just pull those legs up and drive her ass around the room like a cheap foreign car.”

“And that’s the ride you’d get, man. Cheap and foreign. Take a little time and invest some tongue, and you’ll wind up with a Lexus,” added Ponytail. “You guys go for the nut right out of the gate and never really know what you’ve missed.”

“You tell ‘em sweetie,” said Sam.

Catherine just shook her head and shifted in her seat again. It had been a while since she’d enjoyed the company of a man who knew what he was doing in that department. Hell, it’d been a while since she had enjoyed the company of a man; period. 

Ponytail smiled a knowing smile and said, “I’m serious. Nothing’s better than fucking a woman who’s had a chance to come a couple of times. Now that’s some righteous pussy.”

After a couple more filthy suggestions of what the other three men would do to both the women; their conversation turned back to other guy business. They talked and drank. Two rounds had passed and the conversation had turned to “my boss did this” and “our team did that” and yada-yada-yada. Both women were becoming bored, and Catherine decided it was time to take the offensive. 

“Sam, I think it’s show time. Don’t you?”

“Hmmm,” smiled Sam. “Let the show begin.”

Samantha turned in her seat so her legs were visible to the four men. They were crossed as she turned, but as she leaned back to retrieve her purse, she uncrossed them, allowing them to gap open slightly.  

“Oh my,” said Ponytail.

“Come to papa,” added Shirt and Tie.

“C’mon. Show us something,” coaxed Blazer.

Sam stood up and walked to the bar to order two more glasses of wine. She perched on one of the barstools as she waited for the bartender to finish pouring. As she waited, she swiveled the stool in the direction of the four men and slowly crossed her legs. Catherine was amazed as she watched a classic head toss and a flash of a smile executed flawlessly by her friend.

“That’s it,” said Blazer, “I’m in.” He stood up and walked toward Sam just as she slid off the stool, making sure her skirt revealed a healthy dose of thigh. With a glass of wine in either hand she turned to go back to her table, nearly dumping both glasses down the front of Blazer.

“Whoa,” he said jumping back.

“Oh, God,” exclaimed Sam. “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay, baby. No harm, no foul.”

Catherine rolled her eyes. This guy was so full of himself it was pathetic. He told her how his buddies and he had been admiring her and her friend and thought that it would be perfectly okay if they allowed them to buy drinks for both. Catherine just knew  Sam was going to cave and allow Blazer to smooth talk his way into something she didn’t want to do. Then Sam surprised her.

“No, but thanks. We’re just planning on spending a girl’s night out this evening.”

“Aw, c’mon. We could show you two a good time if you’d let us.”

“Really?” replied Sam. “Which one of you would show us the best time?”

Blazer wasn’t ready for that question. The look on his face was priceless. It was obvious he was thinking with his dick because his brain was completely disengaged. What could a man do but default to his own bravado. And so his answer was as expected. “Well, I am sure I could show you a trick or two that would make your evening.” 

Sam smiled at him and cut a quick look over at Catherine who was obviously listening and shaking her head in an attempt to head off disaster. Once again Samantha surprised her. 

“Hmmm, darlin’, I’ll bet you would turn me on like nothing else,” Sam whispered. “But you know, I think I’d prefer Pony-boy over there if I had to make a choice.”

Catherine coughed. Blazer deflated visibly right there on the spot. There was nothing else he could say after having his legs cut out from beneath him with a blatant rejection like that. He looked back at his buddies and then back to Samantha as though she might change her mind.

“But thanks for asking,” she said and strode back to her table.

 Blazer went back to his table and was immediately questioned by Shirt and Tie. “What’d you say to her, dude?”

“I told her we’d like to buy them some drinks and maybe get to know them better.”

“Oh, that’s original,” exclaimed Beard. “Using your best stuff, eh?”

“Fuck you,” snapped Blazer. “It doesn’t matter. They’re lesbo.”

Samantha nearly choked on her wine. Catherine’s mouth dropped open in disbelief at what she just heard.

“That dickless wonder,” Sam said.  

“I think you’re full of shit,” said Ponytail. “I don’t see it. I don’t think either one of them are lesbians. And to be honest, so what if they are. It proves my point. There’s not a woman alive who wouldn’t enjoy a patient tongue and slow kiss right down in the heart of the matter.”

“You know,” said Sam, “I think I like Pony-boy.”

“I know. And I’ll tell you this. I think there’s enough there to share, Sammie.”

Samantha nodded slowly and then said, “I have an idea, Cat.”

“Sam, what’s running through that mind of yours?”

“Finish your wine. I’m going to the ladies room. When I come back we’re leaving.”

“But, I thought you said you had an idea,” protested Catherine.

“I do. Finish your wine.”

Sam turned slowly in her seat, once more displaying her legs and slowly uncrossing them. A glimpse of red flashed across the room as she scooted forward to slide out of the booth. She slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder and headed toward the ladies room. 

“She’s a bitch,” grumbled Blazer.

Shirt and Tie remarked, “Yeah, the gorgeous ones usually are.”

Beard nodded in silent agreement before adding, “And they’re fucking gay.”

“You guys are a bunch of pitiful pricks,” said Ponytail. “One of you gets shot down and the rest of can only bitch about it. I’ll bet you a hundred bucks they’re into guys. Make that…the right guys. Women can tell if you’re the kind of guy who is going to take care of them, or if you’re the kind of guy who’s going to take care of himself. You swingin’ dicks just don’t get it.”

Samantha came out of the ladies room and flashed a quick smile to Catherine. She headed toward the table where the guys were crying in their beer over striking out. Ponytail saw her coming. He caught and returned her smile with an added wink. She grinned wider still before adopting a more serious look as she walked up to the table. All four men made eye contact. Expectations were all over the map. Blazer just hoped that the embarrassment at the bar would stay at the bar. Shirt and Tie and Beard were searching her face for evidence of her gay-ness. Ponytail instinctively knew he was a hundred bucks richer. 

Sam leaned over the table slightly and dropped her red silk panties in front of Ponytail and said, “There’s a Mercedes and a Lexus waiting for you in the parking lot. The rest of you swingin’ dicks should listen to Pony-boy when he talks about how to care for a woman.”

She turned on her heel and went over to her table and collected an open-mouthed Catherine.

“Come on, girlfriend. We’re leaving.”

“Sammie, you are terrible and amazing all at once.” 

The two women left the pub and never looked in the direction of the four men. Catherine wondered if Ponytail would follow. Samantha knew it was a matter of how quickly he would. They’d just reached Catherine’s Benz when Ponytail came out of the front door of the pub. Samantha shot him a smile and then got into the car with Catherine.

He tapped on the window on the passenger side and Sam rolled down the window. Ponytail bent down and asked, “I thought you said there was a Lexus out here too?”

Sam grinned, “You’re looking at her. Get in.”