Mr Mann, my boss who has not fired me yet, told me last night when I was working about life in the early 90′s. It’s was a magical time when Must See TV existed and the girl gawking establishments (Gentle Men’s Club to most people) were not filled on Thursday nights. It would seem even lonely men liked their Seinfeld. Who would have know?

Ahh, said this to me as I was changing my top and trying to fit my C cups in an A cup. I don’t mind changing in front of him, though I find it kind of disconcerting he seems to dismiss the naked female in front of him as something to talk to and not about. But, he and Mrs Mann have been in business for a long time. I’m not the first or last blond he has seen trying to defy gravity with stetchable material.

Anyway, he was sipping his water and telling me about the boring 90′s and how he liked the current economic mallaise. Men can’t afford hookers, but staring at naked women was still part of their dispoable income range.

I ask him if he was worried that naked chicks like me may become passe due to the easy accessibility of naked girls on the internet. He scoffed and then said something intersting.

“Pictures of naked girls will never smell like a naked girl.” I stopped fumbling into the oversized jeans which I would let drop in the deneumont of my act to expsoe my lack of underwear, and looked at him.

“What?”

“Guy,” he said starting for the curtain to the stage area, “A man can always see a naked woman if he wants. They have never been hard to find. But to sit down and breath the same air, see the dance of lights on her perspiration, and fantasize that a lovely naked create if close enough to bite, that will never go out of style.” He exited through the curtain. I paused and thought about what he had said.

Reality is what you make it. Naked girls on the internet are still pixels. I’m flesh, but I don’t date anyone at work. To the men who come to see me, they don’t care if that is my reality. To them, 4 vodka tonics in me and I’m theirs.

Mr Mann popped his head back in and said, “Besides, pictures can be airbrushed, but that pimple on your butt is real.” He disappeared.

I am not a bad person. I did what I had to do. And sometimes, you have to do selfish things. And sometimes it involves tying a guy down to your bed and humping his brains out.

Ok, I didn’t do that. My bed doesn’t have anything to tie to. Anyway, here the story of how Guy got her mojo back.

Like I posted yesterday, I decided to go out hunting for something to get my ovaries off. I called into work telling them I had to do something and couldn’t work. I think Mr Mann said it was ok, but I hung up on him before he responded. Hopefully, I still have a job, but there are a couple other Gentlemen’s clubs around for me to work.

Anyway, I got dressed and whored up. My (.)(.) were close to my chin and my \|/ was about a inch from being exposed by the lack of material I had on. And then I noticed the temperature was frickin cold, so I put on some jeans and changed into a flannel shirt. I figured I was going to be easy so there was no reason to believe my lack of whorishness would prevent me from… well, being a whore.

I left home around 8 which is rather early for a good hook up, but I figured I had some spent up energy and would hate to find some BODY who was too drunk to fuck. The first bar I went to had like 3 people in it and none of them looked yummy. I went to this dyke bar I love, but again it was too early for anyone to be there.

And then I saw him.

He came out of the bathroom (In this bar, it’s not men’s or women’s. It’s the bathroom.) He was about 6 foot and had a crew cut. My gaydar was pretty silent so I was pretty sure, he was a straight man in a gay bar. He was either into watching girl on girl action, or he was just visiting. I watched him and he ended up at a table with two older butchier girls which my gaydar screamed of stereo type.

Now normally I’m shy (must be why I take my clothes off for a living), so I slowly walked over to where they were sitting and used the oldest pick up line in the world.

I said, “Hi.”

The lesbians said hi back and the boy didn’t say anything. I asked if they minded if I joined them. One of them almost jumped out her skin and emphatically said “Yes!”

The little boy seemed less enthusiastic, but upon further review, it turned out he had just broken up with his girlfriend and was a little distracted. His mother, Dee, told me a long and twisted story about how the boy (his actual name is hid to protect his gender) had loved and lost and was finally coming to grips with life with out the girl (I forget the bitch’s name). Dot, Dee’s ‘friend’, told me how she never liked the girl and thought the boy should and will do better.

All this time, the boy was quiet. So I told them about my recent past which ended with the obvious question, “Are you gay?”

Which I responded, “I’m happy, but not necessarily gay. I like boys too.” I said this as I turned my head and focused my blue eyes right on the boy. He smiled. Dee and Dot laughed.

So I asked the question I had been dying to ask. I leaned over and whispered into his ear, “Want to go have angry break up sex?”

At first I think I actually saw him blush. Dee and Dot looked inquisitive like they wanted to know what I had said which had gotten this reaction from the boy. I smiled, and leaned back. I slowly put my hands behind my head which made my bra lift my (.)(.) up higher and made them stick out. I think I saw some spittle form on Dee’s mouth, but I was staring at the boy. He leaned over and whispered, “Do you do this often?”

It’s a valid questions, so I told him no and bored my eyes into him while arching my back. I could see he was checking out the merchandise out of the corner of his eye. He turned and leaned over to his mom. I’m not sure what they said, but in a minute, we were outside getting into my car.

(Tomorrow: Poor little boy (Part 2: Klingon Sex)

I believe you should never be afraid of boobs.. at leat the ones attached to girls. God I would love to see TV in europe just to see boobs. In the US, the only boobs are on reality TV.

 


My god… what amazing humans her parents must be…

I’m still getting this thing going, but I figured that would distract you while I tweak… but at least you know I’m a girl who knows a good rack!