Justin Copani buttoned his shirt, and looked in the mirror. He wiped of a light mark of rouge from his neck. He had just finished with one of his regulars. As always, she had been more than satisfied. Justin could see through the mirror, that she was looking at him, with a wanting gaze and sly smile. Her body was stretched across the bed, her head supported by a bent elbow.<br/><br/>'You have quite an ass,' she said, the sly smile widening. 'I could look at it all day.'<br/><br/>Justin smiled. His winning smile, that got so many ladies interested. What she said was nothing more than an ego boost. He was good at his job and he knew it. Still, when he was told that by his clients it felt good. Maybe it was time to increase rates, he thought smirking to himself. He buttoned his shirt, and pulled on his trousers, and cursorily glanced at his watch. It was time to go. He had to be ready for his weekend job at the bar. He worked Friday to Sunday, and filled in as a substitute whenever the bar manager needed an extra hand. He had landed this gig, courtesy one of his regular johns, a guy who owned a variety of properties in Manhattan and New York. He was the guy who had put Justin in the classier bracket. Before that he had just been a man-whore who lurked around bars looking for johns. He had started at the very bottom, in the seedy pubs of the Bronx in his teenage. It wasn't a good place to be. Beaten, abused, he had had more than his fair share of injuries. But he had had to do it. His dad had died early, and his mom was a druggie. He had had to take care of her, along with himself.<br/><br/>The john who owned this bar had set him up with this job in the Upper East Side, and it was posh as hell. Justin knew his way around mixing drinks, having been around bars and pubs all his adolescence. It had turned out to be a plum gig. They pay was good, and it gave him the opportunity to take on new, classier, richer clients. The men and women that came in here was stinking rich.And he meant stinking rich. He had increased his rates drastically and focussed on building a reputation. Now he didn't have to go searching. People came to him, by references. And they paid well for the privilege. He had set himself up in a nice two bedroom apartment not too far away, and he had enough free time to really concentrate on his painting as well. He enjoyed the job. And many of his clients were generous with the gifts too. This job sure had it's perks.<br/><br/>He gave the regular a peck on the lips, collected his cash, waved goodbye and got into his car. He had got himself a nice Chevy '86 Corvette. He zoomed through town beating the rush hour traffic, and into the parking for club 215. He went into the restroom to spruce up his appearance a bit, creasing down his black shirt and jeans. He then had his customary cigarette before work, with Claudia, one of the waitresses and then walked to his station behind the bar. He liked to set up before the club opened, and moved the hot sellers to the front.<br/><br/>(http://www4.images.coolspotters.com/photos/630485/francois-arnaud-gallery.jpg)<br/><br/>The night was going well. Lot of his regulars had turned, either alone or with their husbands, and had given him naughty looks from their table. It was all good fun. His interest had been piqued by a beautiful lady sitting toward the far corner. She had the most inviting of lips, pouty for good measure. Her red hair interspersed with brown, fashionable styled attracted his attention. She showed a generous amount of milky white skin through her slutty black dress. She seemed in her 40s. And bored as hell. Justin spent more time towards her end and sure enough she began chatting him up. He played along, flirting, laughing, having fun. She seemed interesting, not like many of the dumb blondes that came in here, and Justin enjoyed himself. She had just gone to the restroom, and when she came back asked for another 7-Up. God, that must be like her 5th Justin thought. He caught her eye and gave her an evil smile, with a devilish, naughty grin on his face.<br/><br/>'Coming right up, my lady,' he said, mixing the her drink, with quite an elaborate show with the bottles. The patrons liked that. 'Here you go,' he said, placng the drink in front of her. 'Careful, I've loaded that one with a bit of extra zing,' the devilish grin on his face growing wider.