that the guy?”
I said, through a forced smile. Dance music blared, Janie and I were up on
stage, me on my hands and knees, in booty shorts and ass in the air; Janie had
her leg wrapped around the pole, hips thrusting, and tits jiggling.
a good act;
we did pretty well with it.
around, following my gaze. Fake smile still plastered across her face, she
paled, but otherwise didn’t let it show.
up about Ruby. Bad date, my ass. She was lucky to be alive after what that
bastard did to her.
didn’t listen. Just hung out at the bar, staring at tits and asses, took some
notes, and drank cheap beer.
did it wasn’t a regular; just a one off, drifting in, and never seen again.
Guys like that are just another job hazard; freaks out to hurt and kill, then
moving on to the next victim. Too bad it was Ruby.
businessman in a suit, flashed a gold watch to show he had money to burn. No
wonder Ruby took him on, he smelled like easy money.
glued on buddy across the bar, Janie was grinding her crotch against the pole,
thong disappearing into ass cheeks. My hands were wrapped around her hips,
pretending to eat her out.
no sexual contact, and all that. We followed the rules, most of the time. It
was a classy establishment, after all.
buddy was watching over his beer; faint smile on his face. This could be our
and I walked up to him; his grin got wider. Pop music crashed through the bar
as the next pair of tits danced across the stage.
wanna go hang
out?” Janie nodded at the curtained-off rooms. VIP access. She smiled, “Our
a leather sofa; Janie went to work, straddling his thigh, shaking her tits in
his face. Firm and round, perfect breasts. I leaned in, whispering in his ear,
and reached for his crotch, feeling his cock through his jeans. Already hard,
he grabbed my ass.
wanna party back at my place?” He squeezed harder, kneading me like bread dough.
“I got something goin’ on later.” He stuffed a folded bill into Janie’s thong.
wrapped her arms around his neck, shoving her tits in his face. Perfect nipples
stared at him. Buddy didn’t stare long, rubbing his fat gob on what was
implants were paying for themselves. Mine aren’t as good, more the budget
version; one of a few minor surgical changes. And everything costs big bucks
ass is my
own, and it’s sublime.
down, between my legs and jerked back. “You—you’re a guy.”
I smiled at him.
sofa, he tried to stand up; Janie pinned him, muscles in her arms flexing.
She’s still pretty strong, used to be a weightlifter before the transition.
stared at us. “What the hell are you
nobody’s quite sure what I am.” I smiled, reaching into my shorts. “Kinda like
smiled at him. “Thought we’d give you a little something from her.”
riveted on my hand, still inside my shorts.
pulled the semi out of my shorts, a mini snub-nosed pistol that tucked up nice
right under my ballsack, taped down tight. Girls like me need to carry some
kind of protection.
and buddy slumped against the sofa, red blossoms spreading against his chest.
Liz McAdams is a short, sharp, writer
and fond of dark things. Her work appears in the usual places, including Spelk,
Near to the Knuckle, Yellow
Mama, Shotgun Honey, and
scattered around Twisted Sister lit
mag. Check Liz out at https://lizmcadams.wordpress.com/.