CarolAnn was in the women's restroom in the basement bar of the VFW hall, looking in the mirror above the sink, trying to decide what the cops and their friends beyond the door saw in her.
She lifted her chin higher to dispel the shadow from the bad lighting. She lifted her tits higher, too. Already going a little pear-shaped at just 36B. She shook her tight bob of brown hair. She looked down past her little bulge of belly toward the pussy and legs she had spent approximately three hours shaving the night before. She looked back into her cow-brown eyes. Her stomach was doing flip-flops.
Eighteen hundred dollars earlier today, already cash-apped to her bank account, and another fifteen hundred in her purse on the floor. Three thousand, three hundred dollars. She had never made so much money in a day. She had probably never made five hundred dollars in a day.
"If all the doors are locked, how are we going to get out if we need to?" she said.
DeeDee, already naked from the waist down, was unhooking her bra and looking back at CarolAnn, perplexed.
"It's a bar, honey," she said. "Not a dungeon. You just unlock the door." She peeled off her bra. Her newly refurbished tits leaped out and, improbably, up even higher and fuller, defying gravity and other laws of physics. "You watch too much true crime drama on Netflix."
"Well," CarolAnn replied primly, "they are TRUE crimes."
DeeDee was squirting lotion from a bottle onto her hands. She started massaging the lotion up, around and under her perfect boobs. CarolAnn, of course, was mesmerized. She wobbled a bit on her heels, the only clothing she was wearing. After that morning's bukkake shoot, the girls had stopped at Nordstom Rack and purchased matching shoes in a ridiculous shade of cherry red, with three inch spike heels. Seventy percent off.
"You ready to put on a show?" DeeDee said.
CarolAnn lifted her eyes off DeeDee's tits. "I don't know how this is gonna go," she admitted.
"It's gonna go fine." DeeDee grinned wickedly and tweaked both of her perky nipples. "These guys are good guys. Every couple of months, they like to have some fun."
"And we're the fun," CarolAnn said.
DeeDee was squirting more lotion into her hand. "That's how the world works, sweetie," she said. "Welcome aboard."
Three thousand, three hundred dollars. CarolAnn was two months behind on her electric bill and ten days late on her Chase Bank Visa card payment.
"C'mere, you beautiful three-hole bitch," DeeDee said.
CarolAnn grinned weakly and approached DeeDee.
"We're a package deal," DeeDee said. She reached out and began to massage her lotioned hands on CarolAnn's tits. Around, over, and under. CarolAnn could have melted into the floor. "Those guys' tongues are gonna be on the floor; their cocks are gonna be lifting the tables." She looked closely into CarolAnn's eyes. "Who's in charge?"
"They are," CarolAnn said.
DeeDee laughed out loud. "WE are," she said. "How did you ever get to be thirty-one years old without learning to lead guys around by their big, stupid, cum-dribbling cocks?"
DeeDee hefted CarolAnn's boobs, gave her a sweet smooch on each nipple, then let them drop. "C'mon, you bend-over cock-sucking whore," she said. "Let's get to work."
CarolAnn followed DeeDee out the ladies' room door.
* * *
DeeDee immediately went out to the table area beyond the bar and started talking to some of the guys. She either knew some of them already or had a real gift for gab. CarolAnn hung close to the bar by the bathrooms and obsessed over her own nakedness. The bar was along the left wall of the room and there was a circular stage with seating in the middle of the room. The tables for the guys were along the right side of the room. There were TVs on the walls showing sports events, but no one was watching them.
A young girl with purple and green hair and the requisite tattoos walked down the length of the bar. She was, CarolAnn saw ruefully, not naked. She was wearing booty shorts and a tank top. "Hey," the girl said, "you want something?"
CarolAnn smiled politely. "Oh no," she said, "I'm good."
"Cool." The girl started pulling glasses out of the bar sink, rinsing them, and placing them on a mat on the bar top.
CarolAnn watched her do this for a minute or two, and then asked, "You do this a lot?"
"This? The guys have their thing, every couple months or so. I don't always pull this gig. It pays, though."
"Oh. I'm CarolAnn." The air conditioning out on the floor was making her nipples stand out.
The barmaid placed the last of the glasses on the mat, then reached down, set a shot glass on the bar, and looked behind her at the ranks of bottles. She plucked up a bottle of tequila and deftly poured a shot. She replaced the bottle, raised the glass to her lips, drained it, rinsed it, and set it back where it had come from. "Sarah," she said.
"Do they usually..." CarolAnn stopped, unsure of what she even wanted to say. "Who are the girls, usually?" she finally settled for.
"Strippers, usually," Sarah said. "They had two girls for tonight, but it didn't work out. One's in county."
"Oh," CarolAnn said. "County?"
"Jail. County jail. The other girl flaked out."
"Oh, wow." CarolAnn's heart was leaping in her chest. "I mean, we're not," she pointed weakly at DeeDee, who was now sitting in the lap of a big pot-bellied cop at one of the tables, "we're not strippers."
"No kidding. I guess the guys," Sarah looked out at the tables and then regarded CarolAnn, her gaze frankly appraising, "are looking for a girl next door type tonight." She reached beneath the bar and produced a small paper pad and a pencil. "Go take some orders. These guys are thirsty."
* * *
CarolAnn approached the nearest table, her little order pad and pencil in hand. She could feel her boobs, all 36B of them, swaying a bit side to side. Her nakedness felt like a glowing neon bulb in the bar light.
"New talent!" one guy shouted out.
