Nightclub Supplies Ned makes a successful overture

The gorgeous nightclub server is soon back. She supplies the older man with his drink, along with a dazzling, white-toothed smile.

“To you.” He salutes her with his glass and then sips.

“Your friend was a bit of a cretin.” She doesn’t sit but remains standing at the high nightclub furniture table. “But it too bad he forced you into being alone.”

“You’re a much preferable alternative and that’s why I got him to leave.”

“I was there.” The girl corrects with a slightly quizzical expression. “I watched him depart of his own accord.”

“After my suggesting he might try something stupid like that with you.”

“Your friend was stupid to make such a rude and clumsy attempt. Why did you ask him to insult me?”

“Firstly, he wasn’t my friend: I don’t even know,” the man hesitates for a fraction over a normal breath’s pause, “his,” he slightly stresses the gender pronoun, “name.”

“And what is your name?” She asks, forgetting his reply had started with ‘firstly’, to indicate there would be more.

“Ned.”

“Is that shortened from something?”

“Edward.” He says. “Diminutive familiars of it could be Ed, Eddy or Ned. And secondly, I didn’t actually request anything of him. I just subtly planted the thought into his mind earlier in our talk. Like I did to you too.”

“Humorous.” She scoffs.

“Why did you ask my name? And what, may I be so bold, is yours?”

“I’m Nan and I only asked because knowing someone’s name is polite.”

“But you didn’t think of being courteous until I brought it up in a way that caused your mind to toy with the thought.” He sips his drink and continues. “Then when your mind had made the idea of asking your own, you did.”

“And that’s how you convinced the other man to make a fool of himself?”

“Yep.” Ned describes the conversation leading up to the man’s failed ploy. He details out how the masculine challenge was issued and responded to. “Now here you are standing at my table.”

“I could turn around and leave.”

“But you haven’t yet and so the only thing missing is my hand in your panties.” Ned said the last in a lightheartedly ironic tone, so she wouldn’t think he was serious. “No worries though, just my learning your name has made it all worthwhile. Is Nan short for Nanette or anything?”

“Its just Nan.”

“Presumably Smokin Hot Nan, the nightclub’s beautiful server.”

“Presumably.” Nan chuckles as she recalls his depiction of how he slipped the ill-fated pickup line into the younger man’s mind: one couldn’t know without actually touching an intimate part of her anatomy. “An what is Ned’s full title?”

“I’m Nightclub Supplies Ned.”

“The manager isn’t here tonight to place an order.”

“A bouncer already gave me that valuable tip. I stayed for a drink or two anyways.”

“Do things always work out as you manipulate them?” Nan asks after thinking about his earlier mention of trying to get her a larger gratuity.

“More often than not.”

“What could I have done,” she wonders, “to rebuke the man’s impertinent request, but still have gotten a good tip?”

“It’s all in here.” He reaches out and gently taps her temple with a fingertip. “You could’ve done and said everything exactly the same as you did. But, if your mind hasn’t completely ruled out the suggestion, then a person can sense that it was a rejection but not an absolutely final one. He would’ve tipped you on an internal thought that the next time he asks you, your answer might be different.”

How could he know if my decision was fully entrenched or not?”

“People know.” Ned finishes his drink. “Unfortunately that discussion will take longer than I have right now. I have another sales call to make at another club.”

“I should get back to work too.” Nan says, but hasn’t moved to leave his table yet.

“It’s a sublime pleasure sharing some intimate moments with you,” he takes her hand and brushes her fingertips over his lips, “almost certainly Smokin Hot Nan.”

“Do it now.” Nan’s hips have shifted to where they are between Ned’s knees. She has leaned into him so that her firm breasts are pressed against his chest. She has realized that the only way to the remove the ‘probably’ and the ‘almost certainly’ qualifiers, is with his actually feeling her heat. “Hurry! Nobody is looking.”

“As you desire.” Ned slides his fingers into the front of her panties and his hand makes a cup shape over her sex. He whispers. “Absolutely smoking hot Nan.”

‘Why have I just allowed this older man to put his hand in my panties,’ Nan asked herself while his hand was lingering in place, ‘when I flatly refused to even think of letting a younger and better looking man to do the same, not even a half hour ago?’

“Because I’m Nightclub Supplies Ned.” He answers her mental question as if he’s read from her mind. Then he extracts his hand and takes out his wallet. Ned then sets a large denomination note on her tray.

“For that?” Smokin Hot Nan asks.

“That,” he ladles out the word as if it tastes delicious, “was a special event that I hope we both thoroughly savored, and that,” his eyes flicked to the large tip, “was because you didn’t push the thought of it completely from your mind, like you did before. It’s also due to my appreciation of your being a considerate person who didn’t leave me all alone after sending away my drinking companion.”