tagErotic CouplingsA Girl's Gotta Do What A Girl's Gotta Do

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

bycowboy109©

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?"

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bycowboy109© 3 comments/ 24352 views/ 5 favorites

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