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A Girl's Gotta Do What A Girl's Gotta Do

By: cowboy109



Her eyes opened glancing above to see the window behind her. Her eyes were round and filled with sleep buggers. Bright white lines of morning sun light gleamed in between the vertical blinds. The Bed, Bath, and Beyond down comforter was already pushed off her body. She was a warm sleeper. One knee was bent. The other was sprawled wide. She curled her toes. Her bare soles threw a dozen folds.

She did not want to get up. She looked at the basket of socks next to her bed. Her feet were small. So, the socks were rolled up into soft cotton balls. Another basket was a tangle of her bras and panties. Her eyes trailed on the thin space between the bed and the wall. There were magazines with bold headlines, swimsuit bodies, and Photoshopped perfect smiles. The room was small.

She had to get up. Her feet walked over the standard apartment rental carpet into the adjacent bathroom. The mirror was messy with big dried water spots and finger smears. She looked at herself. She was twenty five years old. She was chubby. Her belly was wide. The chubbiness helped her fill up the boobs a little. Everything was still taught, because she was young enough. Her blond her was straight and pulled back into a pony tail. It had been business style. However, overnight strands had fallen out. She still had a bit of gentle pink lip stick from yesterday.

She surveyed the army of bottles and jars of shampoo, conditioner, creams, hair gels for one that was still at least half full. Her glance stopped at the cardboard soap box that was hiding her stashed away cigarettes. She had stopped smoking a few weeks ago. She would still stop smoking today. She found the deodorant. That would be good enough for today. She lathered the white stick over the stubble in her arm pit. She put a white tooth brush into her mouth.

After she was dressed into her neat, ironed, purple scrubs, she was ready to step out. The purple on her clothes was still brand new. The fabric was smooth and made her look presentable. Her roommate Nancy was already waiting for her at the kitchen table. Actually, Nancy was standing at attention next to the kitchen table. Nancy was holding a cereal bowl. Nancy carefully pushed it a little forward.

"Good morning, Nance. What are you up to?"

"Sandy, I made you breakfast."

"Huh, the cereal is already soggy."

"It's the thought that counts, right?"

"I don't know. A good breakfast counts also for something."

Sandy cautiously spooned the dissolved cereal into her mouth, while Nancy was still standing over her.

"Sandy, we are good friends, right?"

"Yes," Sandy grew increasingly alarmed.

Nancy threw her arms up and made a puppy face with big eyes. "I don't have the money for the water bill. I promise, I'll have it next week."

Sandy seized up and down Nancy. Nancy was barely more than 5 feet tall. Her bones structure was half as skinny as Sandy's. Nancy was three years younger. She had barely moved out from her parent's house. Her face was pale and shy. Sandy realized that there was no money. She had tried yelling about all the little things that Sandy had messed up in her childlike way. The paycheck had probably gone to buying cotton candy, music, or magazines.

"I'll talk to Peter," said Sandy. Peter was their boss. She might be able to get a cash advance. Her name was on the lease agreement. She wasn't going to let her credit get messed up. She was set on a five year plan to buy a place.

A few minutes later, the two were running down the stairs in their white sneakers and nurse garb. The Los Angeles sun was bright. The little grass strips in front of the houses gave the world a bit of a suburban charm. They rushed into their little out Honda. The radio played 'I'm sexy and I know it.' The girls sang to it full throated with the windows down. Nancy, in the passenger seat, was bobbing her whole body to the groove of the music. Their mind disconnected from the slow moving mass of steal that was the morning rush hour.

In the doctor's office, they sat with two colleagues behind the counter. Everyone had their own workstation. They filed away papers. Ruth was facing the front desk. She had golden blond hair, salacious red slip stick. Her fingers had golden rings. She welcomed the patients. Sandy and Nancy handled the back office work. Denise handled the medical billing. She was on the phone the whole day begging insurance companies for money. They were all in their early twenties.

Peter, the elderly doctor, rushed into the office. He had a self-important step. He had a big reddish birthmark on his forehead. His hair was receding. He wore an official suit with a white coat thrown over. He smiled at the girls, while he passed. One could sense that he felt pride at having the girls always look at him, ready to do whatever he wanted. Yet, he old school and always kept a distance.

The first patient was Andrew. He was a tall old man. Because of old age, he was bent over. His knees buckled strangely as he walked. His fingers were long, skinny, and shaky. The skin at his throat was sagging. When he spoke, he held onto each vowel for a second with a shaking voice in an attempt to hit the sound right. He placed his hand with age spots on the white counter.

"Good morning, I'm here for my urine sample."

Ruth smiled like a news anchor and reached into a bin with urine sample cups. She placed it on the counter and smiled at Andrew.

"The restroom is right down the hallway." Her elegant hand showed Andrew the way with a gracious gesture.

With Andrew wobbling a few steps away, Ruth's eyes popped out in exasperation. She whispered to the girls.

"That old geezer has spilled the urine sample the last two times. It was such a mess to clean it up. I don't know what to do with him."

Sandy swirled around on her rolling stool. Her face was pressed together and determined. She caught up with Andrew as he was entering the restroom. She slung in with him before he could close the door. It was a medical restroom in an old building. Everything was white. There was a porcelain toilet. There was a standard mirror. There was a pink pump for hand soap.

"Girl, what are you doing," said Andrew confused. He was standing there in his pleated pants and oversized flannel shirt. He didn't know what to do.

"I'll give you a hand with the urine sample," said Sandy swiftly.

She locked the door behind her with a click. Without a pause, she picked the old man's pant button. The zipper was down a second later.

"What do you think you are doing," stammered Andrew. Andrew's face was flush red with anger. His hand was swirling in the air half to threaten a blow and half to steady himself from falling over his frail legs.

She ignored him and pulled down his gray pants and white cotton shorts down in one go. His penis and balls were a huge skin fold. It was like the skin had separated from the flesh underneath. It kind of looked like someone playing ghost with an oversized blanket pulled over the body.

"I will tell Peter about this."

Andrew stood two feet away from the toilet. For a moment, Sandy was stumped to how she would get him to step forward. She snapped on her blue Nitrile gloves. Then, she simply grabbed his flaccid penis and pulled him forward by his penis. Andrew tried to call out and say something at the same time. He only ended up snapping air like a fish.

She held his penis over the urine sample cup. A young man might have gotten an erection already. Andrew was still flaccid in her hand. The penis was so floppy that she had to get a careful grip on it.

"Andrew, if you would be so kind, to make water," she said with a fake haute British accent.

Andrew mumbled okay. He looked sideways in the room. His lips were chewing air. He let out a hiss from his penis. She waited for the cup to fill two thirds. Then, she swiftly pointed the penis into the toilet to finish its rush. When only a drop hang at the tip, she grabbed toilet paper to dry off the tip. She got one clear look at the old penis. From how long it hung, he was probably still a good size. It was funny to think how his body had shriveled up around the penis. However, the penis, when hard, was probably still fully functioning like a young lad.

She pulled up his cotton shorts. The penis was still flexible. However, she could feel that it had gained weight from an increase in blood. She placed the penis standing up onto his belly. She pulled up the man's pants, while she was squatting in front of him with her head in front of his white cotton shorts. She neatly zipped him up and arranged the shirt tug to be neither too neatly tugged in nor to have too much of a bulge.

She smiled devilishly. Then, she slapped her palm onto the penis behind the pants. Andrew jumped up. She immediately followed up with 'good job.' Then, she left with the urine sample in hand. She placed the urine sample in front of Ruth and proudly said 'a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.' She didn't wait for Ruth to be totally amazed and questioning. She stormed off to organize medical supplies in another room.

When all the patients had left, Sandy took a breath and cautiously knocked at Peter's door. Her boss called her in. He had his reading glasses on. They had a string behind his neck, so that he could drop the glasses without losing them. He was deeply engrossed in papers on his desk.

"What can I help you with," asked Peter.

The window behind Peter had an expansive view on the city. There were millions of roof tops of small buildings and tree tops. In the distance, in the haze, were mountains with rich villas. Peter was always so neat, professional, and focused. He rarely gossiped.

"I'd like to ask for a cash advance. The water bill is due. And, I can't wait for the next paycheck."

"Sandy, you had better look out for your finances. You have been working here for three years now. The paycheck and the water bill are always on the same schedule. You have to learn these things."

"Yes, Peter. I really need to learn these things. For this once, could you advance me part of my paycheck?"

"Sandy, you know that I am a fair boss. Ruth asked me for a loan to get breast surgery. I told her no. It would be unfair for me to give you a loan a week later. It would imply that I have prejudice. You know that the state of California takes discrimination very seriously. Ask your roommate Nancy, if she can borrow you the money."

Sandy looked down at her feet. She didn't want to talk badly about her roommate. "Yes, I will ask her."

With her head low and the shoulders slouching, Sandy walked to the front desk area, where all her co-workers were waiting for Peter to close the office, so that they could leave as well. Nancy was sitting on a chair with her feet tugged under her. She looked perky. She kept bouncing up and down on the chair to work the compressed air in the chair. She sparkled into Sandy's face.

"Did you get the bling?" "No, Peter didn't want to give me an advance. We are going to Vegas this weekend." "Woohoo," called Nancy out and swirled in a circle on her chair. Thinking for a minute, her face turned serious. "I always thought that you didn't believe in gambling."

Sandy leaned forward to whisper into Nancy's ear, "Nance, we are going to turn a few tricks in Vegas. That way, we'll come home with thousands of dollars guaranteed."

Nancy's face lit up. She eagerly pulled Sandy, who looked grim and determined, closer to whisper back, "oh, it'll be like Pretty Woman. " Nancy giggled all entertained.

Friday evening, they were sitting in their airplane chairs on Southwest. Nancy asked Sandy about how everything was going to work. Sandy said that it would be easy. They'd smile at a guy. They'd pay him compliments. When the guy's ego was stoked enough, they'd tell their price. There price was to be $500 at the beginning of the night. And, as it would turn morning, they would try to round up the leftover guys by dropping their rate gradually to $200. Nancy was excited as if it were a game.

Two girls in Vegas dress sat down opposite the aisle. The Vegas girls had high heels with platforms. The shoes were shiny with sparkle. They were elegant dresses that folded over. They were strapless. The tops clung to their boobs that proudly showed the top of the breasts and the cave between the breasts. Their lips drew the attention of every passing eye with a vibrant purple color. There was a careful drawn outline around the lips. The base makeup made their faces look flawless. The eyes were carefully painted to look almost photoshopped. Flashy glasses adorned their hair. They were sleek oversized sun glasses.

A guy bumped his backpack into Sandy's face, when he turned to look at the Vegas girls. He never apologized. A photographer guy with a giant camera asked to take a photo of the Vegas girls. Nancy noticed that the Vegas girl's drew so much attention that the roommates were practically invisible.

"Sandy, how are we going to get a single guy? Those girls are a foot taller than me. They are dressed hot. They have hard bodies. Their boobs are perfect. They are cool girls. I can just smell it. Everyone always looks at me like a little girl with smelly fingers."

"Nance, no guy is going to get those girls. They are too snappy. When the guys are all horny from seeing those girls, they'll come running to us to get laid. And, we keep their wallet."

An hour later, they walked off the plane. The ring-ding of dime slot machines had crowded out seats at the gate. Old women with gray hair were pushing one dime after the next out of a grand ma purse. They followed the signs to the taxi stand. The airport was a mix of tourists in shorts and sharply dressed people that made the Vegas mystique come alive. The rush of Friday night visitors had swelled up the taxi line to last an hour.

It was ten o'clock, by the time they strutted into the casino to look for prey. Sandy was dressed business like in khakis and a button down shirt. The fabric was stretched taught over her slightly chubby body. Nancy wore jeans and a nice t-shirt. Being a first year medical assistant, her wardrobe was very limited. They walked to the slot machines nearest to the elevator to the rooms. That way, they might find a guy after he had given up on Vegas, ready to withdraw to his room.

"Let's put a few coins into the machines, so that we are less suspicious to the casino. There are cameras everywhere. Here, Nancy."

Nancy was overly happy to put coins into the machine. She studied the payout schedule. She tried out all the buttons. She got easily absorbed into those kinds of things. She started slouching a bit. Sandy sat up with perfect posture, scanning the room.

"When you screw a guy for money, you can't be a starfish, Nancy."

"What's a starfish?"

"It's a girl you lies on her back, spreads her legs and arms, and goes limp like a fish."

A tall man in his mid-twenties walked into her view. He had a milky, passive face. He wore a prim polo shirt with a university logo. He wore khakis. He seemed soft. He had rich brown leather shoes. Sandy smiled at him. The man immediately turned around to look behind him, assuming that Sandy was smiling at someone behind him. She waved him to come over.

The man came up to their bar stools. He stood there like a concierge. His face grew a bit paler.

"Hi."

"Hi, handsome. What are you up to today?"

"I was at a conference for inter matter manipulation via nanoparticle guns. The lecture was splendid. I don't quite know what to do, now that the lectures are over. I looked a bit around. I think, I'll go to my room."

"You are a nanotech guy. That is so awesome."

"Strictly speaking, I'm not nanotech. I'm nanotech adjunct. See fractal re-entry of..."

"Sailor, tell me where are you from?"

"I'm from Boston."

"Get outta here! I grew up in Boston. I love Boston!" It was a lie. She played her enthusiasm card strongly.

The guy's face lit up like Christmas, because a girl was talking to him. "Wow, you are awesome. You know about nanotech and are from Boston."

Sandy pulled a slot machine chair for the man to sit down. She grabbed his hands and gazed at them.

"Your hands are so beautiful. They are strong manly hands."

The boy's chest swelled with pride. Nancy swiveled her chair away to hide her giggles. The boy's posture was that of a boy. His face looked flustered like a little boy. The boy was anything but strong and manly.

"I am Sandy. What is your name?" "I'm John. Nice to meet you." "John, my ex-boyfriend was named John. I loved saying his name." "Your name is very beautiful as well, like a princess." "What kind of sport do you do?" "I row with my university team." "Phew, rowers have such hot bodies." Sandy caressed her hand over his biceps and chest. Her fingers were pointy. The lad squirmed his hips, because he was trying to get his penis in a position, where it would not poke a tent in his pants.

"Let's go to your room for naked times."

John's eyes popped open, like he had won the jackpot.

"Yes, totally. Let's get a snack to eat first." "No, let's do naked time first and work up an appetite. Do you have good sexual stamina?" "Oh, I totally have. Let's go." "It's $500 and she watches for safety."

The lad looked like he had taken a blow to his stomach. His face fell down in disappointment, like he had been played.

"You know how to use your penis, right? I need a little fun." "But, $500..." "We have to pay for the room. There are expenses." She grabbed his hand and placed it on her thigh. She could sense that his erection was growing again. He hadn't felt a women's body in a long time. "Okay, I'll tell daddy that I lost money gambling. And, she watches? That's so hot."

She took his hand and pulled him to the elevator. There was tense quiet in side. Nancy had very curious eyes. Her eyes looked as if she was watching a thriller. Sandy unbuttoned the two top buttons of John's shirt. His white undershirt was showing. "You gotta let your hair a bit down. This is Vegas." John felt like a playboy with his shirt wider open than usual. His penis was rock hard in his pants.

She felt a bit nervous. It was like her concentration had broken for a moment to take in the reality of the situation. She could feel her breathing. Her self-conscious thoughts made her aware of her fingers rubbing the hem of her clothing. The adrenalin made everything more vivid and slow. Her eyes scanned the rows of buttons in excruciating detail. There were buttons in neat rows from floor 40 to 60.

"John, are you hard for me?"

He paled a little startled. She reached into his pants. Nancy's jaw dropped in a silent 'oh,' before she quickly looked normal again. Her hand felt the bulb of the head. The warm meat fit snuggly into her hand. Instinctively, she pushed the skin down to feel the heaviness of it.

"Good, you are standing at attention, tailor."

With a ding, the elevator door opened. There was a monotone hallway with long lines in the carpet. The walls were decorated with wooden lines. A side table with flower and mirror separated each room. Nancy walked with a mooted upper body and drag on her feet, exactly how she walks around bored in the mall. "Why do I always have to take one for the team," thought Sandy. Sandy's face frowned with a hint of sadness.

John fumbled his smooth pants for the room key. He opened. Nancy immediately jumped on a side chair, kicked off her shoes, sat Indian style, and got her cell phone out. "Don't worry about me, I'll try to set a record with fruit Ninja." John elegantly sat down at the desk chair, crossed his legs like a British gentleman and silently starred at Sandy.

"For Chris' sake," thought Sandy. She composed herself and sat down slowly on the bed. She patted the spot next to her and smiled, "sailor, don't you think that it'll be more fun on the bed and naked?"


A Girl's Gotta Do What A Girl's Gotta Do



"Oh, yes," said John. He quickly pulled his buttoned shirt over his head. He ripped the pants with underwear over his ankles. He stood there for a moment in his t-shirt and white tennis socks. His penis wiggled straight ahead from out of the unkempt bush. He paused for a moment half naked in front of the two dressed girls that eyes him with curiosity. He had himself exposed. He put a pile of twenties on the desk and smiled proudly, "I know a little about uhm etiquette."

"I have a little request."

"Yes."

"Can you keep your shoes on?"

"Of course, if that turns you on."

Now, she knew what he liked. It was the first time that he had spoken up. She got on her knees on the bed and pulled her clothes off. While he was the preppy guy with white, ironed shorts, she was the chubby gal with her panty line digging into her butt. Her boobs were a big part her body fat and spilled out, once they were out of the frame of her bra.

He lay back. She traced his ripped chest. "Rowing," he smiled. He was all the stud in body that she had ever dreamed about it. Yet, in the head, he was lying silently on his back, while she felt the bumps of the muscles on his body. She trailed her a line from his chin down to his penis with kisses. She could feel him intently sensing her body movements. Nancy whispered, "generation starfish enterprise," and giggled at her inside joke.

It broke the moment. It was weird having her best friend watch her prostitute for the first time. She did not know how to prostitute. She rolled a condom over his penis. It had always been tricky with her boyfriends to guide the slippery ring down. With all the lube, it kept wanting to slip out of her fingers. There is the urge to pin it with finger nails. However, that breaks it. She smiled up at John with her teeth sparkling to ease the tension.

She took a deep breath. No, she could not take his penis. Her mind had been all action oriented to execute-execute-execute. Her pussy was as dry as a nun's cunt. She moved her body up his, caressing her boobs along his body. She presented her full boob in front of his face. "Why don't you suck on this a bit?" "I'm allowed to touch?" "Yes." "Can I grab your butt as well?" "Yes."

He nuzzled her boobs. Her boob was pressed all over his face. He had a happy baby face, when he licked and sucked her boob. His hands groped her butt. Her butt was big. He had plenty to grope. Nancy was just kind of staring. She was in a trance. She was curiously pulled in to watch, yet not aroused.

Like a machine, the physical touch triggered her juices. She had fantasized a few times about a random man in a hotel room during her self-pleasure session. Oddly, now that it was real, she wasn't as relaxed, as when she self-pleasured late at night in her cozy bed. She was very action oriented. She reached for his penis and lowered her pelvis over it. She took him whole on the first try. She must have been wetter than she thought. Nancy mindlessly leaned forward to see the penis disappear inside of her.

His face was flush red. His eyes bulged wide open to form a fuck face. Her knees were by his side, so that she was squatting and could pump herself up and down over him. Their bodies were sweaty. She had to bite her lip and a strand of hair had become loose. Things had become kind of automatic. The self-consciousness had vanished. She was simply chasing the good feelings that each thrust triggered.

There was the chocolate like feeling, when he was fully inside her touching her cervix. There was the titillating shot, when her clit rubbed against the coarse hair over his hard pubic bone. There was the warm tension spreading in her thigh that made her move faster and harder. He had disappeared into some kind of trance. At one point, she had grabbed his face, a little too harsh, so that his lips puckered together like a fish. He simply moaned, not reacting at all.

The mattress sung loud. The next room must have heard it. Nancy tried to discretely push her cell phone against her pubic bone, pretending that she was resting it on her belly. It was too obvious. She started moving it a little back and force, pretending that she was simply pushing the keys hard. Sandy smiled at her for a moment. All was forgiven. Sandy felt awesome.

"I'm coming."

John's muscles convulsed. His torso and head rose up to have the shape of a banana. He pushed her hips against his groin. The fingers sunk deeply into the soft flesh. She waited for him with the sweetness of a wife.

The red rushed out of his face. A tear formed in the corner of his eye. He began silently sobbing with his mouth distorted wide open. Spit made spider webs from his lips to his teeth. The stammering became audible. "Please, leave. Please leave."

"Are you alright?"

"It's not you. It's me. Just leave me alone!"

"Can I wash up at least?"

"No, go. Go now!"

"I have all this sticky juice in my vagina. It'll be only a minute."

"No, go. Go!"

Sensing something seriously wrong, Sandy quickly grabbed her clothes and the money. She pulled on the bare minimum and stumbled into the hallway barefoot. Behind her, she heard him moan, "I'm hopeless. I will always be alone. Nobody cares about me."

"Wow, that was a winner," said Nancy matter of fact. Sandy got her clothing composed in front of one of those hallway mirrors. "That's what they are for," she thought to herself. "Those hotels have experience."

"That guy was weird," said Nancy. She looked at Sandy, as if to explain the world.

"He scared the bejesus out of me. Though, now my panties are soaked. It's disgusting. I can smell him and myself. I smell like a hooker for real. The funny thing is. I didn't come. I'm still turned on. And, having all that mess down there and the thought that people will smell it, turns me on even more."

Sandy got her hair right. She clipped the blonde strands in place.

"You kept watching us the whole time like a voyeur. What's up with that?"

"Well, it was interesting. I had never seen you have sex with a guy before. I loved watching the shakes run through your boobs. And, hehehe, you rammed your hips really hard. I thought you were going to break his thing."

Sandy looked stern and composed. She lead the way to the elevator.

"Don't hate me for telling it. We are now closer than ever."

"I just need to go for a walk."

And, they walked. They walked the long corridors of the casino. The wide walkways with the carpet, the wide walkways with the slick, polished stones. They walked through rows of slot machines. They walked through along the closed stores. The air was fresh. The casino pumped in extra oxygen to keep gamblers awake and energized to push another button. There were dolled up girls in elegant dresses. There were tourists in sandals, shorts, and camera hanging in front of the belly with foldout maps in the hand. There was casino personnel in sharp suits watching for security and handing out coupon cards for lounges.

Somewhere, they had passed a Russian themed bright red bar with a bouncer and were approaching a simple bar at the side of the gambling floor. A young lad was standing lost at the intersection of walkways. He had scrubby black punk hair. He was wearing camouflage shorts that went over his knees. A friend had doodled on it with a marker. His t-shirt was tucked in at the side only. He held a big pink glass in his hand. It's one of those two foot high margarita glasses with a giant straw and a neck strap. He had leather straps around his wrists.

"Nancy, go talk to him. That's your first client."

"No, no, I can't. He's too cute," whined Nancy. Like a convict on the gallows, she was dancing around Sandy, clinging to her clothing, and hiding her face.

"Nancy, we are short on the water bill, because of you. I already did one guy. It's your turn."

"No, no. I don't know what to say."

Sandy huffed and walked toward the guy. Nancy out of panicked impulse grabbed the nearest bar stool and hid behind it. The bartender smiled benevolently. Sandy reached the lad with big steps.

"Hey"

"Hey yourself, I'm not a horse!"

"What's your name?"

"Ryan, and you?"

"I'm Sandy. See over there, my friend Nancy is trying to hide behind a chair. She thinks that you are super cute. You should talk to her."

"Nah, I'm fine here."

Sandy looked Ryan over.

"Where are your friends?"

"I got lost."

"Why don't you make new friends with us?"

"I'm not very good with girls. I'm just hanging with my bros."

"Hey, is that a Godsmack sticker on your t-shirt? Nancy loves that band. You should talk to her."

"Really? I have like all of their albums."

Sandy locked her arm with Ryan and walked her to Nancy. The bartender lingered near ready to take the orders of the otherwise empty bar at 3 am. Nancy immediately started chatting to Ryan about Disturbed, the concerts, and the gossip about the singer. They were talking loud and fast.

The two young ones were in a whirl of discussion. They talked like best friends. Their hands pushed each other in response to teases. The low yellow lighting of a worn casino was around them. The ring-ding of the slot machines was a constant circus backdrop. Sandy was the one person out, too old and out of the discussion topic.

She re-asserted herself, "Hey Ryan, how about naked time with Nancy up in your room?"

"Wow, totally, yeah! I mean, this is awesome."

"It's 200 bucks."

"Sandy, why do you have to ruin this?"

"No, no worries. I'm totally up for it. I understand."

Ryan got his chained wallet out. He looked for the crammed bills. He spilled them all on the floor in his rush to count. It was quickly obvious that there was a lot of change, 1's and 5's. After he collected everything kneeling, his hands lifted a ball of money up. It was a complete mess. "I got 92.34. And, I got a 24 hours bus pass that's still good for 12 hours. That's gotta be worth another $4. And, here is a collectible baseball card. It's worth at least five bucks. You could have my belt. It's still new. I got it at the Gap for ten bucks. I only wore it for a week."

"Ryan, I'd be willing to give you a deal. But, you don't even have half the money."

"Sandy, Sandy, please give him a deal. He is so cute."

"Okay, we take all your cash."

"Yes!!!" Here and Ryan reached out with two hands filled with little balls of paper money and change.

"Not here. You put it on your desk in the room. And, we take it later."

"Okay, of course."

Ryan blushed. Nancy blushed. The bartender that had been cooly rubbing glasses with a towel shook his head in disbelief. The lone guy drinking at the bar ignored it. The bartender walked over to him to slam a shot glass onto the counter: "That drink is on me. I just saw the funniest shit."

In the elevator, Ryan tickled Nancy's side. Nancy squeaked like a piggy. "I get to see your boobs." "Be a gentleman," she slapped Ryan's hand playfully. He pinched her nipple playfully through the fabric. Her mouth exasperated and she double-handedly pinched his nipples back, but really hard. He jumped away from her rubbing his nipples. She wagged her finger in the air playfully. He jumped forward to squeeze his index finger and thumb together in between her butt cheeks. She jumped into the air and hid behind Sandy. The two went at it teasing their body and chasing each other around the stern and still standing Sandy, who increasingly became the parent.

"This is like in old times. Sandy is our adult supervision," said Ryan with laughter.

The room was small and simple. This was one of those budget hotels, where the bed took up almost all the space. There was a chair squeezed in. The bathroom door didn't even open fully, because the bed was in the way. All three stood right next to each other next to the bed.

"I don't want Sandy to see me naked," said Nancy impulsively. Sandy's face fumed. After having just fucked a guy in front of her, Nancy was putting up. Ryan lost no second. He lifted the bed sheets and pushed Nancy under them. Then, he followed her. They were wrestling under there. Two bodies lifted and shifted from kneeling to rolling around under the sheets. They were breathing loud and giggling intensely.

Nancy's top went flying into a corner. "Why did you toss my top out?" "That way, you can't get to it without Sandy seeing you." "You bastard!" yelled Nancy. She huffed intensely. A pair of legs was lifted high under the sheets. Then, his pants went flying out into the other corner. "Now, you gotta show your ass."

The body from below shifted on top. Ryan's body pinned down Nancy. The bra, panties, socks, and pants came flying out from under the sheets. He worked her like a maniac. "I'm totally naked," exclaimed Nancy. She pulled his t-shirt off, his panties and socks. He let her do it. She hurled them out.

"I want to see your penis. Wait, let's see, where Sandy is." Nancy's head appeared from under the sheets. She held the sheets around her face like Robin Red Riding Hood. Her face was moist from the heat under the blanket. Then, they both crawled to the opposite side of the bed and lifted the sheets to let the light shine down. "Oh, that is so pretty. I have to kiss it." A peak in the sheet moved lower. "Ugh, it tastes like beer. What did you do with it?" The peak in the sheet kept moving around what was presumably the penis.

"Hey, guys, you gotta wear a condom," said Sandy with a stern voice.

"Oh, we don't need one. He is clean."

"Yeah, I'm good."

"C'mon, you are like horny teenagers. You need a condom."

"Yes, Ms. Principal. He got one on already."

"I want to see it."

"What! That's invasion of privacy!"

"I want to see it."

"Okay. Do you have a condom we can borrow?"

Sandy lifted the sheet a little bit to hold a silver condom under the sheets with her other hand. A sweaty small hand from Nancy felt the condom in Sandy's hand and took it. The two under the sheets went giggling. All four hands were working on his penis, tugging and pulling. Two minutes later, a body flattened under the sheets. One side of the sheets was tossed up. A short penis in an orange condom and shaved pubic hair appeared. The reservoir tip was filled with air. Sandy shook her head and kept silent.

"Okay, put it in."

"Your pussy is here somewhere, right? I can't see."

"You are on the wrong side of my leg. Move left."

"Okay, I got it. I can't find the entrance. It gotta be there somewhere."

"You are poking on my clitoris. Go lower."

"Fuck, I'm already all the way down. Where is your hole?"

"You are so classy!"

"I think that I got it. Or, is this your butt?"

"No, you got it."

"Oh, fuck, I'm inside of you! You are all around my penis!"

"Oh, yes baby, you are in my belly. It feels so good. Fuck me already!"

"Uh, okay. I'm so hot. I have to lift the sheets."

"No, no, Sandy will see me."

"I'll cover you. I'm on top of you."

The sheets came off the top of their bodies. A few thrusts later, they were kicked off the butt as well. Nancy looked so much smaller with her clothes off. Ryan's butt was clenched tight into bulbous half-moons that thrust on top of Nancy's body. Nancy lifted her knees up to her chest to make Ryan penetrate her deeper. As her legs got tired up there, she put her hands onto the soles of her feet to keep them in place.

Ryan tossed Nancy over onto her hands and knees. He humped her from behind. His arms wrapped around her chest and fondled her breast. Sandy stood there amazed at the chemistry between them and the heat in their passion. Nancy was pliable and eager to follow his lead. He was ravenous. All his initial shyness had disappeared. It was like Nancy completely opened up to Ryan. Why did Nancy always get the good time, and Sandy had to do the hard work?

Ryan came. He held Nancy in a tight embrace, while deeply tongue kissing her. Within seconds of coming, he softly pleated with her that he would finish her with his tongue, so that she would be equally satisfied. He disappeared down on her. Nancy lazily raised her head and looked Sandy in the eyes, "this guy is the real deal." Then, her head succumbed back down into the reverie of a fast and hungry tongue dancing all over her vagina.

Ryan was a gentleman. He let both of them use the shower. When Sandy came out, he was playing a round of checkers with Nancy. They graciously said good bye. In the door, Sandy turned around. "Nancy, you would have slept with Ryan anyway, without the money." "Yes," was her weak reply. "Ryan, you would have slept with her anyway, right." "No, I would have never had the nerve to talk to Nancy, let alone ask her to sleep with me. Those ninety something bucks opened up the impossible to me."

The girls went into the hallway. Nancy snickered and bumped her hip sideways into Sandy. Sandy smiled benevolently and slightly shook her nose left to right. Sandy took Nancy's hand. They walked along in silent understanding and happiness.

They passed a big floral display in the lobby. Flowers were stuck tightly together to form a two feet thick ball. Multiple balls were suspended from the ceiling. If one paused for a moment to draw in the breath, there was even the subtle smell of fresh flowers despite the strong AC. Gold plated reception tables and carts stood around. The ambiance created a swanky feeling.

A casino guy in sharp suit, tie, and giant back stepped up to the girls. He bowed forward elegantly with a reverence that made the girls giggle. "Please, follow me." Without thinking much, they followed the man. Only good could come from such a pleasant demeanor. Where they going to get comps? The casino security guy slid his ID card next to an almost invisible door the color of the wall.

The façade of the swanky casino was pulled back by the rough, concrete utilitarian hallway. A half-light of energy conserving tube light flickered. A metal cage door housed extra chairs and tables, densely stacked.

"Where are we going?"

"Please, just follow me."

With every step deeper into the bowels of the casino, the tension increased. It would be harder to get away. There were no doors. The man was steely cold. His step was mechanic and purposeful. Sandy pressed her breathing to remain steady.

They stopped at a door that had a red light flashing above it. The light slowly turned in circles. With neat, clean type, the word security was spelled out next to it. Without pause, the man opened the door. Sandy swallowed to brace herself.

The big room looked like NASA mission control. There were about 20-30 desks. Each desk was plain, white, and big. It had at least three big computer monitors next to each other. The monitors placed to curve around the chair. Some desks had a second bank of monitors above the lower bank. Nighttime could be clearly felt here, because most of the desks were unstaffed. The attending security personnel was looking at dozens of camera images per screen. They wheeled around the cameras. One hand was on a notepad writing.

The man turned around to face the girls in a half circle. His fingers folded like a tent in front of his belly. He had a short blond crew cut. His tie was turquois blue, like the water in the Caribbean. His face was freshly shaven.

"We like to bring prostitutes into this room. It makes it easier to understand that we have our eye on everything in the casino."

"We are not prostitutes," blurted Nancy.

"You can keep your excuses for the police. We saw you soliciting. We don't need bullet proof evidence of the money transfer. We simply put you on notice that you are no longer welcome on this property. If you ever come back, we will prosecute you for trespassing. We have facial recognition. Don't think that coloring your hair will fool it."

"Look, it's been our first time. We won't do it again," pleaded Sandy.

"You actually did look very amateurish. Don't you realize that soliciting is frowned upon? You have to let the guy talk to you first. Here is a paper that acknowledges that you understand that you are no longer allowed to come here. There is no admission of guilt."




A Girl's Gotta Do What A Girl's Gotta Do



Sandy read it over. It was very short. It was simply an acknowledgment of being refused entrance and a reference to the state statute about trespassing. They signed it. The man walked them out. They were left in a dark delivery entrance of the casino with a rolled down loading gate. A big driveway wound its way up to the strip. It was over, before they even processed what had happened.

"I never realized that we'd get this quickly in trouble."

Nancy was pale in the face, "we could end up in prison for a water bill."

"It's not just the water bill. If we fall behind, we lose the apartment."

They took off their shoes and walked up the long, wide drive way barefoot. The concrete still felt warm from the hot Vegas day. It was five AM. The strip sidewalk was wide. There were still groups of people walking. The orange street lights were evenly spaced. They were pretty dim, yet didn't leave a dark spot.

Every twenty yard or so super skinny, tall, black women that showed plenty of skin were standing. The long slender black legs were shiny in the night. Only compact hot pants covered her butt. She was wearing a tube top that showed her belly. The breasts clearly showed their shape and décolleté. There was something classy about the cut of the clothes, and the throwover she was wearing. The backdrop was the big fountain lake of the Bellagio.

A group of guys passed one of those girls. She walked up to the guys smiling. Her lanky legs were strutting wide. She was smiling something about, 'hey honey.' The guys talked for a moment and then kept walking. The girl trailed them, still talking to them, 'hey, let's have sexy time.'

When the guys had ignored her calls for a few seconds, she slowed her step in those high stiletto heels. She turned to Sandy and Nancy, "hey, this is my territory. Go the fuck, somewhere else."

"Why are you so skinny," asked Nancy.

"It's diet pills. Unlike you fat, white girls, we need perfect bodies. It's fucking racial discrimination."

"I'm not fat. You are skinny."

"Are you calling me a nigger? Girls, there are racists here!"

The other skinny black girls turned their heads. The tourist couple frowned upon Sandy and Nancy in passing. Sandy took Nancy's hand and quickly pulled her along.

They kept walking. There were overpasses with bright lights. Poor locals were sitting on the pedestrian bridges. They'd fold things from bamboo leaves, sell water bottles for a dollar, or outright beg for the vet past or a cute dog on their lap. Party girls were taking photos of each other with the Vegas lights behind them, mostly the car head lights though. Poor guys in bright green uniforms were making snapping sounds with their fingers to draw attention to the escort cards that they were handing out. The nipples and crotch on the photos were covered with tiny stars the size of the areola.

In front of a big pirate ship, there was a lull in pedestrian traffic. A single man was solemnly standing without moving and deeply staring into the distance. He had long, black oil slicked hair. He had a ten day beard. He had big blue eyes. The pants and black jacket made him look dark, elegant, and untouchable.

When they passed him, he said 'hey' with a deep baritone voice and command. Then, he went back to motionless staring. The girls paused their step. Nancy whispered into Sandy's ear, "that's your Don Juan." He was a mixture of dirty, sleazy Mexican and elegant, fairy tale, suave lady's man.

He snapped out of his stupor, "hey, girls they night is young. We should party." There was a twinkle in his eyes that drew Sandy in. He was very manly in the way that his body was still. He seemed strong and purposeful.

"Where are we going to party?"

"I have El-fucking-Patron in my room. And, I'm going to drink you flyweights under the table." He smiled big and charming, when he said flyweights. The girls automatically blushed.

"Yeah, sure. Can you pay."

"Ah, you are that kind of girls. I don't judge. It's all good. How much is it going to cost me?"

Sandy considered that this was her last chance and the night was pretty much over. "$150."

"Sounds good," he said. He put one arm around each girl. His black suit jacket opened up wide at the front, because the shoulder pads were pushed up. The girls felt their social status being raised by his company, the party like embrace and his style. They were no longer two single girls left out. They were no part of a party gang. He had this party feeling of things are happening here about him.

In the elevator, he raised his index finger to make a big point. "This is Vegas." He seized one up after the next with his big eyes, as if he was going to let them into a big conspiracy. "There is no way that you can not have a fucking great time." The girls melted into his embrace. Their hands were on his chest melting into his big torso.

As soon as he kicked the door closed with his leather boot, he grabbed Sandy, pushed her passionately against the wall. He opened his mouth wide and devoured her. He pushed her arms up. His hands searched their way down her body to grab her butt. He lifted her, so that she straddled him. Her body surrendered to being held and pinned against the wall, because her hands feverishly touched his cheeks, and felt his long, thick, oily hair.

His wet, most, warm tongue searched hers. His mouth was so big taking her over. She instantly felt the quiver of her heart beating. Her breasts were swelling with feeling. Her pussy was getting a soaking wet torrent.

When he was done with her, he threw her on the bed butt first. She bounced on the mattress twice. She still tasted his saliva on her mouth. Her eyes turned dark like a tigress. She wanted him. Her limbs felt alive. She felt agile and heightened.

He was quickly at the desk. He poured three shot glasses from the big bellied El Patron bottle with the regal seal on it. He put a thin pile of twenties on the table. He slammed down his shot glass empty.

"So, you are here for some trouble."

He pulled of his suit jacket. He unzipped his boots. Sandy crawled forward on the bed, feeling beautiful and desired. He threw his t-shirt and jeans off. He stood in white trunks. He had a boner pushing at the top of the waist band. Sandy slammed the drink down. The burn in her throat stung with righteousness. She pulled his white trunks down in a way, where the waist band pulled down the erect penis. The stiff penis protested increasingly as she pulled it down. And, then it snapped up. The belly flesh made a slapping sound, when it hit. She loved that snap. She kissed the oogly eye of the penis as a thank you.

Nancy took a big swig of El Patron. With big eyes looking at the two, she called out, "party on." She went to casually count the money.

He went forward and pushed Sandy onto her back. She let him crawl over her. She loved surrendering to him. He hungrily kissed her belly, pushed his head up the inside of her top to pull it off. She loved having her clothes pulled of her body with eagerness. Very quickly, she was bare naked.

She was the short chubby girl. He was also somewhat short. However, the muscle and body fat blended well to make him look strong. He lifted his pelvis high above her for a moment. With one hand, he slipped on the condom. "Always gotta bag it." Sandy smiled at the implied humor of his tone.

Then, he dove into her. It felt like eating the finest Lake Chamberlain chocolate. Each thrust felt so good. It wasn't simply physical. She could let go of all the emotional strain the night had put on her. Their naked bodies rubbed against each other. Nancy let out a near silent 'wow.' Sandy smiled proud. His eyes were closed and didn't notice.

He rolled her over. She was on top of him. She immediately realized that it was her turn. She ground her hips as luxuriously as possible. Her hands rested on his chest. Yeah, it was half fat. However, it was in a good shape. His dark eye brows and those eyes looked up at her. She felt like in love, like in a romance novel.

His fingers massaged her butt. She loved it, because she could feel the tugs on her flesh pull on her pussy as well. It changed the way that his penis thrusts felt. His fingers inched closer to her asshole. She only noticed, when he touched her puckered hole. She reactively pushed his hand away.

"Hey, two in the pink. One in the stink."

He looked offended.

"No, none in the stink," she said sweetly. Strands of hair had fallen onto her face. Her eyes were closed. Her face was focused. The lips were pinched together to get the pressure on the penis just right.

The fingers crept back.

"Fuck no," she yelled, too loud. The intensity of the moment had crumpled her composure.

His hands went back to her tits. She loved having them kneaded and fluffed. They were quite bit. And, the bra often compressed them. It was great to feel them loosened up. His hands went to caress the sides of her thighs and rested there.

He looked straight ahead, as if dreaming of a romantic beach. She put herself into that same dream, a white horse with no saddle, fine sand, warm weather, tropical palm trees, only the two of them making passionate love on the island paradise. She would take him five times a day to satiate her hunger.

She had to concentrate more on her thrusting. It became harder to press the shaft of his penis against the hood of her vagina. She felt a little helpless for not doing a good job. Without thinking she reached under herself and touched her cunt and his penis. He was limp.

"Hey, rocker, did you come already," she smiled.

He did not respond. She touched his face. He did not react.

Nancy came closer.

"I think that he is cold out in an alcohol sleep." Sandy shook his shoulders. He was lifeless. His mouth dropped open.

"What do we do?"

"I guess, he won't remember, if we finished or not. Let's take the money and leave. Fuck, I was so turned on by him. I'm going to walk bow legged tomorrow."

The next morning, the girls were standing in their hotel bathroom. There is something about a warm soft towel wrapped around the wet skin from a luxurious shower having cradled and caressed your body. The mirrors are unevenly fogged up. Another white towel is twisted high to contain the wet hair. The look of that turban just reminds of delicious spa days. And, then there are all the amenities in the bathroom like a separate toilet, a giant shower with its own lighting. All of that just soothes away the hurries of the world and makes you feel good.

There were of course twin sinks. This was Vegas. A wide marble surface gave them space to spread out the contents of their toiletry bags -- all the airline sized little potions, the metal instruments to shape their beauty, and the soft cotton pads to dab around the makeup.

"Nancy, where did these pimples come from?"

Nancy snickered, "pimples come from having sex. I got a couple bright red ones as well."

"For real?"

"We should have some fun. Let's go to a pool party before we start working in the evening."

"Sure, we might as well make some memories that we can tell back in the office."

Being in fresh clothes that had that clean feeling on their skin and the bright invigorating Las Vegas sunlight, they walked down a long hotel hallway that bordered on the swimming pool. Already early birds were reclining on lounge chairs with big dark sun glasses. On the other side was an Affliction store. It was a small, crowded store with heavy wooden cabinets. The standout clothing with its intense motives, colors, and sexy cuts sparkled like candy.

"Oh, Sandy, I want a bikini. I want to look sexy!"

"Nancy! (pause) We are broke. Those are expensive."

"I fucked a guy yesterday, I deserve it."

"I fucked two guys. Do you see me getting even a Starbucks Latte?"

"Don't be such a hard ass. I deserve to celebrate my first one. The first one is special."

"You are such a little girl. But, get one on sale."

Nancy smiled big like a little girl. She jumped into the air. Mindlessly, she ran into the store. She didn't hesitate a moment to point at the bikini that the mannequin was wearing on display. "I want that one," she said almost like a brat. The sales person was quick to ruffle through the dark-greenish wooden box beneath it for the right size.

It was a tiny little number with pink stripes. A pirate flag was painted across both boobs. The hem was a stark green. The top was a triangle with soft strings pulling it in place. The bottom was a little thing that left a big part of her butt exposed.

Nancy disappeared in the changing room. It was one of those fancy store changing rooms that had a heavy curtain that was so stiff that it would never fully expand to cover the door frame side to side. While Nancy wasn't exposed, Sandy could see glimpses of her arms and limps moving around to strip of her clothing.

Nancy bounced out barefoot with the bikini. She jumped up and down in front of the mirror. "I love it so much." An elder man with his curly blond wife in arm smiled and starred in passing the store. Nancy's thighs were fleshy. Her butt muscles showed like a round half wheel. She felt oddly naked among the piles of clothing and the cool demeanor of the sales person in a hoodie because of the cold AC.

"It's a hundred bucks," said Sandy with shock, as she pulled the sticker out from Nancy's bottoms. The pull lifted a bit of the fabric. Sandy saw down the hidden skin.

"C'mon, I basically gave me soul away last night. I'll fuck a hundred guys tonight, if I can have these. Pretty, pretty please!"

"Okay," said Sandy with chagrin.

An hour later, they had worked their way through the endlessly winding lane into the pool party. A DJ blasted music. Slides, bridges, little pools, swim up poker, brown beer bottles in every hand set the mood. More girls kept pouring in with their see through cover ups that let the bright skimpy beach ware shimmer through. Guys walked in like cowboys in their knee-long big trunks. Some wear colorful surfer trunks. Others were club wear with skulls and swords. Their big bronze torsos glistened in the sun. There was the diversity of corn fed bulky torsos from the Midwest and ripped, rock hard workout torsos from Cali.

There wasn't really much to do lounging in the sun. Either you escaped into iPod music or a romance novel, well or you got catty about the other girl. There was plenty to be jealous about the other girls. There were all these plastic boobs that must have cost a fortune. There were bodies sculpted by pilates and yoga. It was unfair that they had enough money to have the free time to hustle to so many classes. And, then there was this cute clothing with all the wonderful details that must have been expensive to get.

The worst is the drunk girl in the two inch deep end of the wade in pool. She was on her hands and knees banging her head back and force to splash the water in a big circle. All the boys paid attention to her. She rolled on her back to open and close her legs. She was young. She had thick black hair. She was so innocently abandoned in her play. All the boys leaned forward to watch her. Sandy would never stoop so low to cry for attention, yet she died to get attention.

"Sandy, you look so grumpy. But, you notice the boys glancing at you, when they pass."

"What are you talking about? That slut down in the pool is the big show."

"Yeah, the boys are into her. They stare at her unabashedly. However, at you they steal secret glances. It's really funny. You can tell them by how stiffly they look away or pretend to randomly look around."

"Why would they look at me?"

"Oh, you don't realize. You have this glow about you today. All the sex has given you this halo like glow."

"Really," Sand smiled cautiously not wanting to get her hopes crushed by a prank.

A soft drizzle of thin water vapor occasionally drifted onto her body, when the wind was right. The 120 degree heat and sun had put her into a slumber, where she counted the moments, when the water evaporator from the bar was blown onto her body by the shifting breeze.

"Hey ladies," a group of three thirty year olds was standing at their feet and smiling big. One had a white short sleeve safari shirt unbuttoned with black police glasses. He looked handsome like a stripper. "What are you celebrating?"

"We are celebrating life! Why don't you sit down with us?"

Sandy pulled her legs off the bottom half of her lounge chair. The boys sat down with their knees spread wide, hands easily resting on their knees with big iconic bracelets. They let their cool sun glasses and muscles do the talking.

"Yo, where are you from?"

"Cali!"

"High five to Cali! So, you girls only eat grass, because you are so healthy, have had 17 plastic surgeries by sweet 16, and have a third leg that comes out, whenever there is an earthquake, so that you don't trip over?"

"Yeah, something like that. Where are you from?"

"Calgary, Alberta. Do you Americans even know where that is? It's that way, very far away," said one of the guys with a big smile.

The girls giggled, "yeah, we know our geography. We are actually pretty smart. We went to medical school."

"Respect."

"How about we go to our room and make naked time!"

"Uh, yeah, that's cool. I'm down for it."

"Sandy!"

"Uh, you mean like we pay for it?"

"It's $300."

"Hold on, let me talk it over with my buds."

The guys got up and made a half circle, close enough so that the girls could eavesdrop, despite the loud music.

"Dude, those are hookers. I can't believe how chubby the older one is."

"Dude, you don't want the skinny ones. They look hot, but hate sex. The chubby ones totally only do it, because they love cock so much."

"I mean, we already dropped so much on our Vegas trip. We might as well get some pussy. It's so easy. Just pay and walk up."

"No way, all you are going to get is factory sex and no creativity. There are so many other girls here. All the girls here come for same night lays. We should get some regular girls. There is no time limit on those. We can go all night."

"But, fuck $300 is totally doable."

"Get her number. If nothing works out, we'll go back to them."

They guys turned over and traded phone numbers. When they were gone, Sandy said, "it's shocking how cold they were talking about us."

"That actually made it clear to me. I was mad that you asked them for money. Though, they were only looking for free pussy. We might as well get paid for it."

They went back into a self-righteous snooze.

In the evening, they walked into a bar in the belly of a casino. Two stone lions flanked the entrance. A black standing table gave the hostess grace. Her fingers pointed to the inside, as if she had practiced the motion in front of a mirror for countless hours. The smile on her lips was effortless. The sophisticated red glistened on her lips. Her black dress was impeccably tailored.

Sandy strutted forward into the dark room with the bright red upper walls and black brush strokes of Japanese. She was wearing a khaki skirt with many pleads. She wore white knee high socks to give her a little look of a chubby school girl. Nancy wore a little black dress that threw up a contrast of elegant clothing and a demeanor that had not yet fully matured out of family girl. She walked in over the ankle black, polished boots.

They sat down on high chairs a little away from the bar in the darkness. They sipped on pink, frosted martini glasses. Some delicious liquor had a surprising detail of flavor. At $17 prices, they better were something to be relished. They had a heavy bottom glass with ice water next to them. A white napkin was wrapped around it and already dissolving into torn scraps.

"I've been thinking. With about $100 air fare each, $100 hotel per night, $50 to and from the airport each, $100 bathing suit, food, pack of condoms, we are slightly in the negative. We should focus on older guys tonight. They probably have more money than a young lad."




A Girl's Gotta Do What A Girl's Gotta Do



"Oh, you are just jealous, because I got the one good guy."

Sandy tilted her head and looked back.

"Okay, you're right. Old farts it is."

They looked around the bar. It was only one quarter full. Most of the people were probably in the world famous Vegas night clubs. A few couples had a quiet drink. A few guys lubed up for a night out. A gray heard man in sharp suit was drinking a lonely drink. There was old money written over him. The cuff links on his short were from another time. The tie clip was from another decade. His hair was meticulously groomed to be perfect. He pulled out a monogrammed cotton handkerchief to pat down the wet glass. 

Sandy focused on him without starring. When he finally glanced around the room, she smiled at him. He pulled a small phone out of his suit jacket, looked at it shortly, lifted his glass, and walked over.

"May I introduce myself?"

He looked friendly. He had a double chin. His belly was rather large, once one peeled away the suit that was hiding his body shape well. There were creases on his face from thinking a lot. There were smiling creases. The eyes looked extremely clear like a virgin water well in a faraway forest.

"I'm Sandy. This is Nancy."

"Such lovely ladies as yourself should always have company. I am Ronald. What do you do for a living?"

"We are nurses."

"You are so essential to society. I should have known. You both have this angelic good girl face on. You may not hear it every day. So, let me tell you for everyone who thought it and didn't say it, your love and help, when people are frightened, exhausted, and sick is one of the most generous things on this planet."

"Wow, I kind of often feel like I'm a line item to be squeezed by an army of medical billers."

There was warmth in the words of the man. He warmly touched them on the arm. It was like he brought a sort of fairytale world with him of gallant pleasantry and appreciation.

"I don't mean to be rude, my ladies. I am old enough to know, when a young girl smiles at me. I'd love to take you up to my room for conversation. How much do you charge?"

Sandy doubled down. The sweet guy never broke his sweetness, when calling out their prostitution.

"$500."

"Exquisitely." He stood up and offered his elbows to each of them. He took up a lot of space like a man used to being important. They linked their arms. They seemed little next to the charismatic elder man.

"What do you do for a living?"

"I do such things that we should not talk about it. Tell me about your favorite music. Teach me what young people listen to these days? When I was young, we had the Rolling Stones -- music, drugs, and sex. Our parents hated it. How is your generation making us hate, what you like."

"Well, I love Disturbed," gushed Nancy and continued to talk about the band biography.

The room was actually a sweet. Ronald motioned for Nancy to sit down on a Luis XIV type settee. He counted himself the money onto a leather bound desk. Then, he sat down next to Sandy, who had been unsure, simply sitting there and watching on the edge of the king sized bed. He sat down next to her and wrapped her arm around her. He pulled her in so that her head would rest on his chest. His scent and warmth enveloped her. She felt intimately close, like when her grandpa pulled her in as a child.

"Sandy, you have to know the importance of this day."

"Okay." He ignored her and starred ahead.

"Today, five years ago, I bought my wife a sexy body suit. It was at the best lingerie store in the city. And, we are talking New York fucking City. It was this luxurious laze bottom that was connected with enveloping black bands to an underwire bra. I vividly remember standing at the checkout counter with all the flowers and little sale bins on it."

"I imagined the number on the sales girl, a Persian college student. Her hair was black. Her skin was olive dark. She was skinny. Her fingers were long and elegant. Her eyes were dark and meaningful. Her cheeks were soft and tender."

"Heck, I even talked the young lady into modeling the sexy thing on her own body. When I pulled the curtain of the changing room back just enough to stick my head in, my heart dropped. It was the sexiest thing that I had ever seen. It was like something was dying inside of me a little bit. I bought it heart pounding with my feet running as fast as they could home to my beautiful wife."

"She threw it immediately into my face. And, then I realized, it was not the lingerie that had aroused me. The lingerie was merely the backdrop to display the natural beauty of the young model-like Persian college girl. On my wife, it would have merely displayed the fat, aging body. It would have brought out the hideous monster even more."

His eyes reddened.

"You don't have to talk. We can simply..."

"She swore that she would never sleep with me anymore. Yet, she wanted the marriage. She wanted to hold onto the power. She wanted to keep being the queen of coffee tables with the ruling elite."

"Why don't, we just get naked..."

A tear dropped down from his eye onto his cheek.

"I hired a private investigator. After 14 days, he told me that there was nothing. No secret fling would stay apart for so long. I told him to follow her just one more day. After 21 days, he refused saying the he felt bad about stealing my money."

"It's okay..."

"I could not rest. I knew a retired FBI profiler. I had her profiled. He'd watch her with a high resolution cameras. That way, he could tell exactly which words she looked at in the magazine. He could tell which word would cause her to pause or blink her eyes."

"The final verdict crushed me. There was no other man. People think that it is horrible, when a spouse changes her gender orientation. However, this was worse. She had dried up. She had lost interest in sex. Because she had lost interest, she didn't engage in it. Because she didn't engage in it, her body stopped making sex hormones. She cold shut down her pussy, like dead. Now, all she does is swivel around with coffee at matinees and plot petty intrigues with the other wives."

"If you don't want to do this..."

"I need you to hold me and tell me that everything will be okay..."

A torrent of tears broke out of his face. He was shivering from the emotional releases. She cradled his face and gently shushed into his ear, "I'm hear. Everything will be fine." Tears wetted her blouse. She gently rocked him back and force. The tower of a man collapsed into her gentle hands. Nancy rolled her eyes.

His right hand crawled up her thigh, belly, to the center of her décolleté. He popped one of her blouse buttons open. She already had many buttons undone to show the top of her breasts. With one swoop, he glided his hand under her bra and made her left boob pop out. His head slid down from her shoulder to her breast. He sucked her hard and hungrily. She gasped in surprise. And, immediately her clitoris reacted with an electric impulse. She felt so disheveled with one boob popped out.

While his face was pressing into her breast, his hands trailed down her side. He pushed her deeper on to the bed. He was strong. His hands came under her skirt on the side. He firmly grabbed her panty bands and pulled them down. The panties rolled into a helpless bundle. He pulled them over her shoes and let them drop like discard onto the short haired carpet.

Her skirt rode high hanging around her belly. Her butt and pussy were naked exposed. He lay on top of her. He slipped his suit pants barely over his butt. He put on a condom swiftly. He entered her with little warning. The crying had turned him on. They were both mostly dressed. Her socks were still riding high on her knees.

His lips enveloped hers. He French kissed her without question. He was larger, older. She felt like kissing her grandfather. It was oddly intimate. His lips were thin. His mouth was wet with saliva. His wet face from tears rubbed against her cheek. His savage hands increasingly pushed her blouse and bra out of place. He grabbed and felt up her whole body by pushing his hands under her clothes. In a way, she felt helplessly surrendered to the storm of him. All her emotions and arousal developed out of control.

He pulled out as sudden as he had pulled in. With kisses, he worked his way down her vertical line in between the breast, the belly button. When his lips reached her clitoris, he spoke with a full mouth, "wrap your ankles behind my head, as if you were locking my head in place to push me into your sex."

His fingers walked their way up her inner side to the space between her clitoris and her vulva. He caressed her there with vibrating fast strokes. He kept spitting on his hand to make the skin smooth.

"Fuck, Nancy, his frequency is so perfect. It's so much better than when I touch myself. He is like a piano player artist."

"Wow, that's like the first time, you have talked to me during a fuck."

"Oh, he is that good."

"Well, I'm trying to be modest. But, I learned from the best."

Her ankles locked tight around his head. Whenever his head shifted, his head had to pull her whole pelvis with him.

His double fingers found the entrance of her hole. They weaseled their way in. She was slippery wet. This was no longer a fuck for money. This was the fuck of her life! Inserted, the fingers pointed upward. He alternately caressed her inside with a come-here-motion. It felt a little boring. There wasn't much to it.

"Do one of your other tricks."

"You'll love it. Just give it time to develop."

His fingers stayed in the same place doing the same monotonous motion. His mouth moved up to her breasts. He now fully pulled the blouse over her head. She helped him reaching her arms up, showing her freshly shaven arm pits. The skirt and bra were scrunched up in her middle.

He began massaging and mouthing her breasts. He continuously changed the pattern. She intently followed his motions to what new feelings they were kicking off. It was like having the best massage therapist focus all the tricks on her breasts.

All the while, his hands kept caressing the one spot in her pussy. It was annoying. She allowed him to keep doing it, because her breast stimulation was so good.

"Do you feel like you need to pee?"

"Actually, I do," said Sandy with alarm.

"That's good."

He entered her again with his penis. Her arousal was immediately high. She was struggling between the urge to come and the urge to pee.

"I really have to pee."

"It's not pee. You'll ejaculate for your first time. Just let it out."

"I can't. That's nasty."

He kissed her deeply. Pleasure overcame her. Just one kiss and then she really had to go to the bathroom. She was on the verge of orgasm and the verge of peeing. She needed one more thrust. That was awesome, but one more thrust. And, then her womb exploded like a golden sun. Her whole nervous system spasmed with an intense orgasm. Her liquid let go.

Instead of a hiss, it came out of her in spurts. Ronald smiled big, happy, and sweat soaked. His hand reached down to the bed wetted part. He brought his hand up to her mouth. "Try it. It's not urine. It's your come." She gently stuck out her tongue. It was sticky. It was salty. It did not taste like urine at all.

"I ejaculated? I thought only guys could do that."

"No disrespect. For a hooker, you have to learn a lot. I kind of like them innocent."

She leaned up on her elbows. "Did you come?"

"Oh, yes," he smiled. "I came real well, turned on by your orgasmic contractions around my dick.

He stood up. He pulled his pants up. His undershirt and shirt wear hanging out. He kicked of his shoes and massaged his feet through super thin black socks. He got a USA Today paper from the desk and started reading.

Sandy and Nancy looked at each other, "That was it?"

They went to the bathroom, cleaned up, and decked each other out.

"It was a pleasure," said Ronald, while folding down a quarter of the paper, when they walked out. He smiled jovially.

The girls quickly went down the elevator and out of the casino to switch venues. Across the street, they found themselves in a little dingy casino that had little reason for existing. The carpet was stuff. The slot machines were old. They sold tacky tourist flags and mugs. There was a seedy bar counter. The bartender wore his Sunday-afternoon-hanging-out-in-the-house-jersey.

A forty year old man was sitting at the counter. He still wore the conference tag around his neck, the little fabric strap and the big white note with his name. A green bottom border said 'silver level 2012.' Both his hands were around a brown beer bottle. The suit was gray and reeked of Man's Warehouse. His lips were puttered as if blowing bubbles into the air.

"It's your turn Nancy. It's 3 to 1."

"No, no, I can't. What if he doesn't like me?"

"Just go up!"

"No, I'm nervous. I have a crooked tooth. I need to get my orthodontics first."

Sandy took Nancy by the hand and walked up to the man.

"Hey sailor, what are you drinking?"

"Oh, just a Heineken. It does the job."

"So, you went to a conference. What kind of conference?"

"Oh, it's a mining conference. I'm representing the Big Hill Mine from Missouri."

"Wow, that sounds very manly."

"Oh, no I don't dig. I just do sales."

"We could help you unwind tonight."

"How would you do that?"

"Well, why don't you take us to your room, and we'll show you?"

"I see, where this is going. I had always heard about this sort of thing happening in Las Vegas. Now, it's happening to me."

"Yeah, it's Vegas baby. You might as well indulge -- hint, hint."

"I'm just curious, how much is it?"

"$300 for you, because you are kind of cute."

"A discount, you are a good sales woman. We might hire you."

"Have you seen those?" Sandy tugged on Nancy's boobs to show them a little more.

The man looked around. "Okay, let's do it." He tossed a ten dollar bill on the bar counter and waved the bar tender. They walked to the elevator.

"What's your name? We are Sandy and Nancy."

"I'm Sean. I very much like to see the young one naked and have her boobs bounce around."

"Hey, a man who knows what he likes."

The elevator took forever to have the initial bounce that indicated movement. The AC was turned off as well. The elevator was cooking hot. Sweat streamed down their backs and created droplets on their forehead. There was no telling, if the elevator had stalled out. The wall was filled with framed advertisements for $5 off this and that. The mirror was dulled from a million tiny cleaning scratches. Empty bottles of beer and plastic cocktail glasses were neatly piled into the corner. The elevator had only five floors to go to.

"This is a total Hangover movie moment. I feel like we might get lost in Vegas inside this elevator," said Sandy.

"Don't ding the place, it has history!" replied the man.

Eventually, the elevator jostled roughly up and down. The door opened with a ding. They were on the second floor. The hallway had deep stains. There were cracks and holes in the wall. The room still used traditional metal keys.

"The man smiled. Can't beat their rate of $50 in the heart of the strip."

"Yep," said Nancy with pinched lips.

The man stepped in. He sat down on the window sill. Nancy sat on the bed. Sandy stood in the corner. The man played with the TV control. He found the hotel's music station that played hip hop. He put the money on the nightstand in a neat stack.

"Dance," he said.

Nancy swung her hips tentatively side to side.

"Dance sexy," said the man.

Sandy pushed off the wall that she was leaning against. She put her hands together in front of her chest. With the elbows high, she pumped the hands in front of her chest. Her legs were wide and bouncing. Nancy got the idea and copied her. Sandy slipped back against the wall.

"Show me your ass," said the man.

Nancy leaned over to rest her hands on the bed. She bounced her skinny, young ass high for the men. It wasn't bubbly. She looked tense.

"Strip," said the man.

With her legs in jumping jack position, Nancy bent over to unlace her boots. She rolled down her socks gently, all the why over the heel and to her toes. She turned her back to the man and pulled her little black dress overhead. She stood in her underwear, bra and panties. She turned around holding her babies in her arm. The man looked tense.

"Touch yourself," said the man.

She reached with her hand inside of her panties. She did not know how a stripper was supposed to play with herself. So, she grabbed her vulva as she does, when she pleasures herself. She cupped her hand around it and held snuggly tight.

"Show me the pink of your pussy," said the man.

She pushed her panties to the side, and spread her love lips wide.

"Don't you want to touch me and feel me?"

"You have to turn me on first."

"What you mean, you don't have a boner yet?"

"Don't talk to me like that, little girl!"

"Then show me already!" said Nancy with a sweet, eager, and curious voice. He pulled down his pants and threw them on the floor. He sat back on the window sill with his socks and shirt still on. The penis hung tiny and limp. The man starred onto the floor.

"I'm never good enough. I can't even get my dick up for a twenty year old. I don't bring enough sales. The first year, they told me that everyone misses. The second year, they told me that they develop talent for the long term and don't look at short term fluctuations. The third year, they told me that we are all family. This year, they told me to shape up. I was bringing down the family. I'm not interesting enough for online girls to date me more than once. I just don't measure up."

"Well, that's maybe a little a lot to fix tonight. Maybe, you can think of something that turns you on?"

"I like to spank bad girls."

"Okay, that's a little kinky. Don't hurt me."

With an unfamiliar happiness, the man slipped onto the bed. He grabbed the near naked Nancy and put her over his lap. He grabbed her hair, "you bad girl," pulled down her panties to have her sex shimmer through from behind, and gently slapped her on the butt. "Huh," exclaimed Nancy.

"Tell me that you are a bad girl. (thud)"

"I'm such a bad girl. (thud)"

"Tell me why you are such a bad girl. (thud)"

"I don't know. (thud)"

"You showed your girlie parts to the boys. (thud)"

"I flashed my vajaja. (thud)"

Nancy reached for his cock. It was limp biscuit, as before. "Maybe, I should lick it a bit." Okay. She took his penis into her mouth. She could swallow the whole thing. It barely took up any space. It was easy to get it in first. She tried to let a little out of her mouth the suck down on him. Though, it was so limp that she couldn't just push down. The thing escaped her mouth like a limp noodle. She sucked on it hard, like on a long spaghetti strand. It was a lot like eating trying to get that thing in and out of her mouth.

She used her free hand to push his shirt over his head. He helped. "Make yourself comfortable," she mumbled with the little dick in her mouth. It was much harder to mumble with a soft dick than a hard dick, because it constantly tried to slip out of her mouth. She put his hand on her boob to stimulate him more. She moved the hand over to his ass. "This is a hard case," she exclaimed, while taking a break for a moment. "Oh, sorry that has a double meaning."

She pushed him onto his back. She wheeled her bottom around to present her vagina in front of his face. He smelled, starred, cautiously touched, took a little lick. And, then there was movement in his penis. It was like the pussy smell had the pheromones to turn him on. Young pussy has untold powers. When he was half thickened, he quickly pushed Nancy off of him. He slipped on a condom. "Quickly, as long as it lasts."




A Girl's Gotta Do What A Girl's Gotta Do



He threw her fully onto the bed. He looked at her face for a moment. "Na, I need it more nasty," he commanded. He stood on the bed. He grabbed her hips to lift and toss her over on her belly. He entered her from behind. His hips were pressing against her round, soft, little butt with each thrust. There was a nastiness to being done from behind.

"Hide your face in your pillow. I don't want to see it." He pressed her face deep into the soft feather pillow. With only the back of her head visible, he pounded into her from behind. His lips were feverishly quivering with the tension of a mad man. He thrust hard.

"Say that you are a slut and you want it like this."

"I'm a slut, and I want you to fuck me from behind."

"Yes, yes," he puffed. Then, he thrust himself away onto the floor. He ripped the condom of his half-mast penis and flung the condom into the small trash can in the corner. "I did it! I fucked a little hooker in a dingy Las Vegas hotel room. I'm virile!" He shouted the last sentence as in desperation.

Nancy looked cautiously over her shoulder. "Wow, that's it," she mumbled to herself. She skipped her underwear. She quickly pulled the little black dress over her bare boobs and naked, wet cunt. She stepped barefoot into the black boots without tying them. The black leather tongue hung out. She grabbed the stack of bills with the hand that held her underwear in a big black bunch.

"See you," said Sandy, while she stepped out of the door. The man stood with his head leaning forward and arms empty at the side like a fighter after the battle.

They found the stairs down to avoid the elevator. It was a concrete, bare bones, fire escape stair case. "I didn't like that man. Though, I did like being tossed around. We should teach Ryan to toss me around. I went all ragdoll. It's like a water park ride!" She smiled. "What a weirdo! That was $300 for 30 seconds and a lot of weirdo."

The rest of the night nothing happened. There were too many other hookers out. There were too many party girls. Guy after guy turned them down. Each time, the social anxiety to broach the topic was a new guy became higher. They kept moving from casino to casino to avoid security coming down on them.

They got little rest between the end of the night and their flight Sunday morning. It was one of those Southwest flights, were random people sit down in random places. A sixty year old woman with absolutely tight, sexy clothing sat down next to them. Sure, she was in shape. However, everywhere the skin peaked out her skin screamed old in incongruence with her clothing. She had a tight black something with super high heels. She ordered a little bottle of whisky as soon as the flight attendant came by.

She turned to the girls, "I got a divorce. I went to Vegas to party my head off. Now, it's clear."

"What is?"

"When you peel down the clothing of a man, sure they want to fuck you, however they also emotionally become naked. Every man is broken on the inside. When they want to have sex, they want to bring their broken out as well. And, then you gotta put your own needs back. You just have to stare down the vulnerable baby and love them, tell them that all is well."

"What you have to understand is that when you share a pillow with a man, what he wants more than sex is to unload the trouble of his life with you. You become his priestess. When he screams and throws tantrums, all he wants is for you to become his priestess. He just doesn't know how to ask for it. You have to go 'you poor little thing, the world is so unfair, and you are such a good guy.'"

"I'm done with that. I have needs as well. I'm becoming a Lesbian."

With that, she called the attendant for another mini-bottle of black label.

Nancy turned over the inflight journal. She lifted it up to Sandy. "What? Are you know interested in following law suits?" "No, check out, who the lead government prosecutor is against the pharma industry!" "Oh, shit, that's Ronald!"

Next Monday at work, Nancy caught Sandy in the accidentally unlocked bathroom.

"Come in quickly, and close the door."

"I'm just so horny. All the sex has released so many sex hormones in my body. I need to fuck a guy, someone, anything. I can't focus."