I looked around me. I didn't like what I saw. A grotty bedsit. At least it wasn't damp. It smelt, that shut up smell. I tried to open the window, and let some fresh air in. It wouldn't budge. I threw my bag onto the bed, and put the kettle on. I let it boil, then threw the boiled water down the sink. Then I left, I had things to do. First stop the charity shop on the High Street.
Charity shops are the same all over the country, this was no different. I found a dress it had been fashionable five years ago, exactly what I needed. The lady was about the age of my Nan, but she knew what I wanted when I explained. She took me out the back. A donation had just come in.
"It's all a bit tarty," she said. Then apologised, realizing what she had said. "But you are welcome to look through it."
She was right, it was, very. Just what I needed, all a size too small, so perfect. The heels, my size, size seven and hardly worn. I tried them on, doing the ankle strap up. A good fit.
"I don't know how you manage to walk in those, what are they six inches?" She said.
"Six, and you get used to it," I said walking about in them.
"I'll take the lot," I said. "How much?"
"That's fifteen pounds altogether," she said.
I gave her thirty and left. Anne Summers was in the posh part of the High Street. I parted with more money, I needed a set of wow undies, and some stockings, hold ups as well.
Tesco for essentials, and some bed linen, who knew who last slept in that bed, and maybe died in it? I shivered at the thought. The café on the corner looked clean, and reasonable, so a mug of tea, and beans on toast. Then "home," where I remade the bed, then changed into my new purchases. An over application of makeup, heavy on the mascara. Fuck I looked like a tart. Perfect. I put my new knickers on, see through, covering only what needed to be covered, and barely that. The bra a three quarter cup that struggled to contain my boobs. Actually, they looked quite good, I pinched my nipples, and was pleased with the effect. I decided on the holdups. Then the heels, black patent. Then the dress. I am a size twelve, and this was a ten, so a bit tight, especially around the bust, fucking zip was a pain, but I managed. I checked myself in the mirror. The dress covered my bum at least, the stocking top just visible. I'd do.
The club wasn't far, a fifteen-minute walk.
"Hi," I said to the guy on the door. "I've come about the job."
"Tanya?" He asked.
"Yeah," I pouted. He was a typical doorman, shaved head and a Crombie, making up for his lack of brains with muscle.
"Go right in, stairs to the back beside the bar, nice tits."
Now really, what the fuck do you say to that, even though he was right, my 36C cups are very nice.
"Thanks babe!"
I walked in, found the stairs, and walked up. Knocked at the door, then deep breath, strutted in. As soon as I saw him I knew I'd have no problem getting the job, his eyes went straight to my boobs, of course they did, that's why I was wearing what I had on.
"Hi, I'm Tanya, we spoke on the phone about the job?" I said as he drooled at my tits.
"Fuck yes, you done this before?"
"Bar work, yeah!"
We chatted, look love, I've another couple of girls to see, so I'll let you know, alright."
"Well I am sure they will be good, but what do I have to do to get this gig, like now? I really need the money, you know."
His eyes lit up, and I knew I'd just been employed. Men are so predictable, a bit of leg, a bit of boob. OK I was dressed like I was well up for it, but even so!
"Well, um..."
"What about a blow job, I really need the work!" I said.
His cock wasn't huge, but it was clean thankfully. I give good blow jobs, well I should, I've had plenty of practice. So I blew him, then went he came, I swallowed. I really wanted this job. I jiggled my boobs back into my bra, and pulled my dress back up, then smoothed it down covering my bum again.
"When do I start?" I asked.
"Tomorrow, afternoon shift, oh and come and see me first."
"Sure, another blow job?"
He just smiled. Of course he wanted another blow job, he was a man, and that's where his brains are kept.
The doorman was still where I'd left him, shit for brains. "Nice arse, and nice tits," he said as I walked past him. He might as well look, because I wasn't putting out for him, fucking wanker.
I crossed the road to where a homeless guy sat in an empty shop doorway. It's funny, the homeless are all around us, but no one sees them. I saw him, but then I was looking. I opened my hand bag and found my purse. I gave him a fiver.
"Got it," I said quietly before walking away, my heels clip clopping down the street.
I had lunch in the café, egg, beans, sausage and chips, and a mug of tea, and two slices of bread. Nice, but not exactly my usual diet though cheap. Then I walked to work.
"You working love," a chancer asked.
I smiled he didn't see the irony. "Not today love, maybe another time."
The bouncer was there again, as was the homeless guy opposite, invisible to everyone except me.
Tony my boss was behind his desk. He looked up expectantly. "Your uniform is over there you can change here."
"Sure," I said.
He watched as I stripped down to my little thong, then beckoned me over for his blow job. He played with my boobs as I took him into my mouth. At least he was quick, and it was soon over. I pulled the cheap satin dress on, no bra, and very, very short. He threw a pack of holdups at me.
"You ladder them, you buy new ones," he said. "Now Ginger will show you what to do."
Ginger showed me the ropes, she was nice, and helpful. Told me things I would have had to ask. Told me Tony was a pervert, funny I'd never have known. Then we worked, serving behind the bar, clearing tables, while on the stage a couple of girls went through some very tired routines, as we had our bum touched up, some punters, the brave ones put their hands up our skirts, because they thought they could.
