I'm Not Paying $7.50

WORD COUNT: 750

*What you are about to read is written for the

750 Word Project 2025

for February. Please enjoy this fun little story. I love comments and criticism so please let me know what you think, good and bad. I hope you get a bit of tickle reading this fun little tale.*

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Pam pulled open the frosted glass door of The Grotto, Big Splash Waterpark's 'adults only' bar. The Grotto provided an escape from the shrieking and screaming of kids and young families overrunning the water park. A foggy cloud of chlorine followed her into the dimly lit bar.

The place was nearly empty, it being barely 11:00 am. An older man nursed a beer, likely taking a break from his grandchildren, and two bartenders competed at some complex game involving flipping bottle caps. Pam was delighted at the dry heat inside; she had expected to feel chilled out of the humid jungle air of the waterpark while still in her bathing suit. She strode to the bar and slid onto a stool.

"I'm sure people grumble about $7.50 for a Dixie cup of beer but I'm the first to do it today," she said, glancing up at the drink specials.

"He was first," the woman bartender said, her head nodding toward the older man.

Pam sighed. She wanted a beer, something, anything, to soften the thought of chasing her kids around another day at the resort. That $7.50 price tag felt too steep. She looked at the various signs decorating the wall behind the bar. Some were funny, some were tropical. The vibe was seedy tiki hut, perhaps using humor to soften the sting of drink costs.

She nodded toward one sign.

"Topless women drink free?" she asked, looking at Remy, identified by his nametag. He shook his head and waved his hand at the sign, brushing it away. His attractive face screwed up in a disapproving frown.

"A joke," he said with a mild French accent, "The owner thinks he is funny."

The other bartender, the woman with clear dark skin and black curled hair, cleared her throat. Her name tag identified her as "Eman."

"It doesn't have to be a joke," she said, eyeballing the frosted doors at the bar's entrance, "Be the first to do that today."

Remy glanced sidelong at Eman. An entire conversation ensued with a few subtle looks.

"Or don't," he finally said, "It's only a joke... you would be the first ever."

Pam pretended to consider and Eman watched her, wolfish. There was a challenge there, a dare. Pam could afford the $7.50 but something about this whole experience made her tingle. It wouldn't be the first time someone other than her husband had seen her breasts.

"Okay," she said lightly.

The shift of atmosphere was palpable. Eman's face lit up with a delighted grin, showing straight white teeth, lighting up the entire room. Remy's eyebrows furrowed, was she teasing? The older guy shifted his weight in the chair to get a better view.

"Mind if I watch?" he asked politely.

"Yeah, go for it," Pam said, flippant. He went back to his beer, sipping and pretending to be nonchalant, shifting on his stool to face her.

Eman snatched a 20 oz. glass off the rack, turned and flipped the tap open. No one said a word as amber liquid gold filled the glass. She passed it to Pam, who's heart picked up pace in her chest.

Yeah... her chest. She had a large one, concealed and locked down in her one-piece bathing suit. Her husband enjoyed showing her off, but he pushed for a conservative look today considering the water park was for families.

"Don't tell my husband," Pam said, looking at all three of them. They all nodded in agreement, all three watching her. She took a sip of beer, pulled the straps of her suit off her shoulders. Her breath caught in her throat as her arms came free of the straps. She pulled the material down before she could think about it.

Her breasts came free of the suit. The three strangers stared at her body, her tits, her nipples, their eyes roving over her skin. Pam fought to not cover herself with an arm. Instead, she gave all three a good view, her heavy tits fully exposed, counting to ten in her head.

Her body responded to being on display, her dusky pink nipples hardening, her skin tingling. She had an image of hands reaching out to grope her tits, squeeze her flesh, pinch her nipples. She counted just past seven and pulled her suit up, covering herself once again. Smiles broke out around the bar as the moment concluded.

Heat curled up from between Pam's thighs. God, she was turned on. Maybe she'd tell her husband after all.