82 - Mezcal Duty

*We’ve updated the bylaws after last night. That girl does not have Mezcal unless Trevor is around. No exceptions. – Toad*

Camille pulled the dong out of her mouth before she sat up on the bar and turned to look at Trevor. Grinning, she stuck the dildo to the bar top.

“Trevor?” she asked with barely contained excitement.

“Before you get the bottle that’s in the bag,” Trevor pointed to the bag, “I have a few questions.”

“I’ll even do your taxes if I can have my Mezcal.”

Trevor chuckled at her. “That won’t be necessary. But I do want to know if you finally cashed in those cards of yours.”

Biting her lower lip, she grinned at her giant friend.

“All your cards?” Clay asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“Yes, Clay,” Camille grinned at the other man. “All my cards have been cashed.”

“Better call your mother and apologize for making fun of her for all these years,” Athos chuckled.

“Fuck that!” Camille laughed. “I might admit that my mom was right about anal, but fuck if I’m going to apologize for making fun of her and the way she goes on and on –“

“On your dad’s dick!” Porthos laughed.

“Yeah! Ugh! I don’t need to know that my dad’s dick has been in my mom’s ass, yet here we are.”

“Babe, don’t take this the wrong way,” Clay smiled at Trevor, who chuckled and shook his head. Looking over at Camille, Clay pointed at the bulge behind Darkness’ zipper. “How the hell did you get that monster in your little ass?”

“Seriously?” she rolled her eyes. “You of all people should know that with enough lube and force, even that square peg can fit into the round hole.”

“Trevor!” Aramis laughed. “Is she saying hat you have a square dick?”

“His dick is not square, but it is pretty,” Camille told them.

“Ma belle,” Darkness warned.

“Sorry?” she offered with a shrug.

“Don’t believe her,” Priscilla warned, “The first chance she gets at watching those two go at it again, she will.”

“I will,” she admitted. “There is such a severe lack of guy-on-guy live porn around here.”

“Seriously?” Megan asked, “I thought they were making that shit up!”

Camille grinned at the shocked woman now sitting in her husband’s lap. “Nope. Max Stallion mainly does gay porn and some bi.”

“Before you get that Trevor needs a blow job look in your eyes,” Trevor smirked and ignored his husband and Camille.

“Like he complains when I get that look,” Camille scoffed.

“I never do,” Clay purred.

“What’s up with that ring on your finger?”

A blush crept up her cheeks as she looked at the silver ring with a square cut black diamond.

“How the hell did I miss that?” Priscilla asked as she rushed over to the bar to look at the ring on her friend’s finger. “Oh, my god, this is better than his ink. Damn.”

“That is on the right finger?” Trevor persisted.

“It is,” Camille confirmed as the other old ladies and bunnies came over to look at the ring.

Trevor took the last box out of the gift bag and handed it over the women’s heads to the little blonde. “That means, that this is my last official Mezcal Duty.”

The other Saints laughed.

“Only if you get the bylaws changed again,” Priscilla pointed out.

“Trust me, I plan to,” Trevor assured them.

“Oh, you like Mezcal Duty,” Camille said as she opened the box and pulled out the bottle of Mezcal. A small jar of worms was tied around the neck of the bottle.

“Almost as much as I like getting a root canal,” he grinned at her.

“Hang on,” Gator cut in. “Cher, there are bylaws about you and Mezcal?”

“I can’t drink without Trevor being there to babysit me,” she grabbed a shot glass from the lower part of the bar behind her. Breaking the seals on the Mezcal and worms, she explained, “Which is why I haven’t had a Mezcal Night since I’ve been here.”

Dropping a worm in the small glass, she poured herself a heavy shot and downed it in one go.

Rosie looked at her with wide eyes, “Did you actually eat that worm?”

Biting down, the small worm crunched in her mouth and Camille nodded.

“Oh, my gosh!” Megan laughed. “They probably don’t even know that she has theme songs.”

Trevor motioned for Darkness to join him closer to the bar.

Aramis chuckled as Camille poured herself another shot and dropped a worm into the light amber liquid. “They are going to know in a very short period of time.”

“It’s the Jose Cuervo song, right?” Darkness asked. “Dancing on the bar? Shooting out the lights?”

“Yeah,” Porthos laughed as Camille downed another shot before helping Priscilla up on the bar. “Until it’s not.”

“We need music!” Camille yelled as she pulled Rosie up onto the bar with them.

Leaning over the bar, Priscilla declared victory when she found a bottle of whiskey and a cold bottle of pale ale in a cooler. “Athos! Music, damn it!”

“Working on it,” he called back as he connected his phone to the speakers in the main room. By the time he had the music playing, Camille was throwing back shots straight from the bottle and just eating the worms.

“I love that girl, and I’ll always keep her safe,” Trevor told the darker man. “But I’m also looking forward to not being on Mezcal duty.” He motioned to the trio that were dancing on top of the bar.

As Shelly West sang about a wild night of tequila, Camille and Priscilla taught Rosie their choreographed dance. It took the song being played three times before Rosie had it down. When it played for the fourth time, Candy and Vivian joined them on top of the bar.

Darkness shook his head at this relaxed and carefree version of Camille. “More people need to see her like this.”

“They will definitely see more of her,” Trevor chuckled.

Gator ordered a few brothers to get the girls down before the bar tipped over. As they stomped their right feet, the bar wobbled slightly. After getting the bunnies down, Peanut was told to get his wife.

The worms were all gone and about half of the mezcal was gone by the time Peanut coaxed his wife down. Porthos grabbed Priscilla by her thighs.

She stopped dancing and finished off her new beer and took a swig of her whiskey. Squatting down, she smiled at her friend.

“What are you doing, Porthos?”

“Getting you off the bar before you fall.”

“When was the last time I fell off a bar?” she grinned as Camille danced to Fergie and her lovely lady bump.

“This bar is a lot smaller than the one you’re used to.”

She looked at the six-foot bar and nodded. The bar at the Shack was at least twice as wide and more than three times as long. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she allowed herself to be removed from the small slab of wood.

Swamp Thang and Priest stood at either end of the bar to hold it in place and keeping it from tipping over. They both sighed in relief when Camille stopped dancing and put her bottle down on the bar top.

With empty hands, she stood back up and pulled off her black spaghetti strap chemise shirt. The material fell to the floor, and she resumed dancing as the room fell silent.

“You should hear the story of them getting pierced,” Clay suggested as he slid an arm around his husband.

“Holy fuck!” Swamp Thang said as he stared up at the half naked woman before him. “Damn it, Darkness! Your little Cam has some hat ass tits! And they’re fucking pierced!”

“That’s not all that’s pierced!” Athos called out.

Roughly, a song and a half later, the black and white plaid cotton pajama pants slid down Camille’s legs and got kicked out of her way.

“And that’s why I get put on Mezcal Duty.” Trevor chuckled.

Darkness stepped up to the bar and put his hands on her hips.

“Hi!” she exclaimed.

“Hi yourself. You seemed to have lost your clothes.”

“I always find them.” A look of confusion crossed her face, and she sat down on top of the bar. “Back home, my clothes ended up in my little alcove. I don’t know where they’ll end up here.”

“I don’t either, but I think it’s time for you to go to bed.”

“But I’m not tired.”

Leaning in, Darkness kissed her lips. “I didn’t say anything about sleep, ma belle.”