Alison’s night of mindless lesbian lust with her girlfriend Moriah (in the same bar where she once “entertained” seven guys on a busted pool table) goes belly-up: Moriah’s plane is late, and Tommy (the old friend with benefits who played sheriff during her serial gangbang) walks in with four German auto execs. He had hired a mother/daughter duo of whores to entertain them on that pool table, but they’re no-shows. Alison, dressed in full-slut mode, owes him. She’ll help him close the deal of a lifetime—for a price. Alison doesn’t give it away free anymore.
E-Read Erotica Reviews: I love how this makes me feel. Drunk with the possibilities of random and wanton sex. Fucking the norms and the rules. Spitting back at those who would call this trashy smut. Because it is, and it says it with a smile and a middle finger held up proud and high. A book that makes me feel free again? Certainly so.
Alison took a deep breath, pushed the doors open and sashayed into the bar, hips rocking. It was a big room. In the middle was a semi-circular bar surrounded by a dance floor. Tables and booths, some on risers along the walls, filled the rest of the bar. The place was only half full.
Conversation dropped off as she crossed the room, devoured by fifty sets of eyes.
Her metallic one-piece outfit was almost like a swimsuit. A huge scoop cut out around the left ribs, leaving the left side of her midriff bare. The metallic fabric, reflecting the swirling colors in the room and her every movement as she crossed the floor, rippled like water. Her left arm had a long sleeve of the same material and her right arm was bare. Her cleavage was very prominent, and her legs bare. Three-inch fuck-me heels completed the come-on ensemble.
Fred met her at the bar. He suppressed a smile, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. “Re-visiting the scene of the crime?” he said, wiping the bar.
“No, just waiting for a friend. Seen Tommy tonight?”
“Nope. What’ll it be?”
She swung her behind on the barstool and as she took out her smartphone, it pinged: “In Chicago. Flight delayed 30 mins. Love you!”
Alison frowned. Before she could give any thought on how to hold off a horde of horny males clutching their cocks, the door opened and four suits came in. Not cheap suits, either, very tailored. The last suit was a tall, angular woman, followed by Tommy, dressed as usual in shabby preppie attire—wrinkled chinos, a faded golf shirt and beat-up loafers. She couldn’t see from her seat at the bar, but he probably had grease under his fingernails from probing the innards of a Porsche or Audi.
Tommy flashed her a quick grin as the group settled at a booth in the back of the room. Fred offered some protection as he camped out by Alison, filling beer pitchers for the waitresses. So far, Alison hadn’t been propositioned or subjected to any crude remarks.
Ten minutes later, Tommy slid onto the stool next to her. “Babe, you look great. Better than last time.”
“I’m getting laid regular.”
“It becomes you.” He leaned in. “I, uh, got a problem. We need to talk.”
Alison smiled and put a hand to his cheek. “But you’re so self-sufficient and manly. How could little old me help a big studly male like you?”
Tommy held his phone up to her. A text message read, “Sorry.”
“It’s from ‘Heather,’ you know, with quote marks. My legion of whores to soothe the Germans’ souls bailed on me.”
“Poor baby. Judging from this motley crowd, it might take you, oh, thirty seconds to recruit a new team.”
“Listen to me. This is important. This deal, I mean. Two major German car manufacturers are exiting the warranty repair business. They want to set up an independent company for all warranty work. They’re outsourcing. Allie, I get this deal, and I’ve got it made. I can retire in two years, tops. I’ll be in the Keys bone fishing every day. If I can close this deal.”
“Safe to say, your business savvy from fifteen years in the exotic car repair business, a spectacular reputation as a small businessman and your enthusiasm for high performance, precision machinery is enough?”
“I wish. They’re Euros. The way you do business with them is, you entertain them. You soothe them. You stroke them. They need to get comfortable with you. Yeah, I’m the logical guy. But there’s competition.”
“Babe, good luck to ya. What can I do?”
“Klaus, Dieter and Wolfgang have been sitting at the table since the moment they came in licking their chops, looking at you.”
Alison stiffened. “Wait a minute…”
Tommy reached for her wrist. “You owe me one, remember? I really need your help here.”
“Dammit, I’m not a common prostitute.”
“I know that. But you walked in here two years ago, ass swaying, tits out, a vibrator strapped between your legs, to prove a point. To prove that you could do it—sell your body, make men fight over you, if you had to. To prove that your body is that good. That you’ve got the appeal and skills to fuck for a living. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you had a good time, didn’t you? You fucked seven guys blind. Then I whisked you out the back door, took you home, and you fucked me like a teenager.”
Alison bit her lip. “My girlfriend’s on her way. I’m on a date. I just can’t—”
“Yes, you can. You can do it for me. I’ll wait out here for Morgan—”
“Moriah, sorry. I’ll intercept her, explain that you’re, uh, detained on a mission of mercy. Got a picture of her?”
“Fuck, she’s a dyke. She’ll stick out like a…”
“Show me her goddam picture.”
Alison jabbed at her smartphone. “Well, this probably isn’t the best…”
Tommy pulled the phone out of her hand and tilted it to get rid of the glare. “Yeah, well, the ball gag isn’t very becoming. No tits, but kind of cute. So this is how lesbians fuck?”
Word count: 7,000