The Gold Dollar Girls

The shower door creaked and Megan felt a rush of cool air. She looked up to see Maya, naked except for a towel turban covering her hair, step into the shower. She handed Megan a glass of wine, carefully avoiding the flow of water.

"Thank you, baby," Megan said, taking a sip.

Maya moved in behind her, wrapping her arms around her waist and pulling their bodies close together. She took the washcloth from Megan and began to run it over her belly. Megan set the wine glass down on the soap rack and leaned her head back on to Maya's shoulder. "That feels so good," she sighed as Maya circled her breasts with the wet, soapy cloth.

She felt Maya's lips on the side of her neck and in the hollow of her shoulder. Maya dropped the washcloth and softly massaged Megan's breasts, then ran her hands down her sides and over her hips. She gently parted Megan's legs and let her fingers dance over the delicate flesh of her inner thighs.

Megan pushed her ass back against Maya's legs as she felt her hand cup her vulva. Maya gently patted the mound, making a splashing sound. Megan laughed, then drew in a sharp breath as Maya's fingers slipped between her labia.

"Oh, god," she gasped, "I love the way you touch me."

Maya's fingers slipped back and forth along the inside of Megan's lips, then moved to her clitoris. Megan felt her legs weaken. Maya sensed it as well, and wrapped one arm tightly around her waist, while her other hand played with the sensitive clit.

Megan leaned forward, bracing her arms against the shower stall wall. Her breathing was growing rapid. Maya knew exactly how to please her, and responded to every change in her breath, her posture, the tension in the muscles.

"Come for me," Maya whispered.

"Yes, baby, I'm almost..."

"Come."

Megan panted loudly, then threw her head back and moaned "MmmHmm, MmmHmm, MmmHmm," as her orgasm washed over her.

Still, Maya's fingers continued to move inside her, and Megan came again, slumping, nearly falling. Maya withdrew her hand and held her in both arms. Megan caught her breath, straightened up and turned around. She kissed Maya deeply. "That was great, baby," she said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Maya said, "Now let's get out of here, You've got me pushed up against his wall and it's freezing."

Megan laughed and turned off the water. They got out of the shower and quickly dried off.

"I hope you're planning to stay the night," Megan said.

"Absolutely."

Maya removed her turban and shook out her hair as she disappeared into the bedroom. Megan fetched the bottle of wine from the kitchen, then followed her. She stopped in the doorway and took a drink. Maya sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for her. She walked toward her, giving her hips the little extra snap she showed when she took the stage.

"Mmm, yeah, girl, strut your stuff," Maya said with a grin.

Megan stopped in front of her and lifted one leg. She pressed her foot against the inside of Maya's knee, and pushed her legs apart.

"You see anything you like?" Maya asked.

"Yeah, I do," Megan said. She lowered herself to her knees and ran her hands up Maya's thighs. Maya laid back, propped herself up on her elbows and watched as Megan lower her head between her legs.

Megan kissed her in the soft tangle of her public hair, then lifted the bottle and slowly dribbled a stream of wine into it. Maya giggled as it ran down between her legs. Megan lapped at it, her tongue grazing Maya's labia.

"How's that taste?" Maya whispered.

"It really doesn't need the sweetener." She handed the bottle to Maya and watched her take a long drink, then dropped her head, nestling it between her dark thighs, kissing and licking and nibbling.

Maya raised her legs in the air. Megan put her arms under them and lifted them to her shoulders. She buried her face between them and pressed her tongue between Maya's labia.

"Yeah, eat that pussy, girl," Maya moaned. Megan found her clit and alternately sucked and licked it until Maya was squirming uncontrollably on the bed. She felt her grip her hair and pull her face tighter against her. After a few minutes, she had to pull away to take a deep breath, but then immediately resumed, eating Maya's pussy in a near frenzy. In another minute, Maya squeezed her legs hard around Megan's head and came with a long shuddering groan. Megan kept licking, until Maya pushed her away.

"Too much, baby, " she moaned.

Megan climbed on to the bed, and they embraced, arms and legs entwined. They pulled the blanket up around themselves, and kissed and cooed until they fell asleep.

CHAPTER THREE

Charlene held the blue dress up in front of herself and looked into the full length mirror on the back of her bedroom door.

"Shit, that's way too short," she muttered. She threw the dress down on her bed and went back to the closet. Everything she owned was either too short, too tight or too low cut. She had to look wholesome at the hearing. She had to look like what the state considered a good mom.

Giving up on the closet, she crossed the room and began to rummage through her bureau. She had a few sweaters, perhaps one of them would work. She held up several to compare. The cream cable knit was probably the largest. She pulled it on and checked the mirror. She had a pair of gray slacks that would go with it, if they still fit. She found them in the bottom drawer. From the looks of them, it would be a near thing. She had to lie on the bed to wriggle them over her hips. They fastened, but just barely. The sweater would cover half way down her ass, though, so that would give her some cover.

She went into the living room. Larry was sprawled on the couch in his underwear, watching a rerun of Family Guy. He gazed up at her and nodded approvingly.

'You look pretty good," he said, "Classy."

"Yeah, that's me. All class." She went in to the bathroom to brush her hair and do her makeup.

"Don't worry, Boo," Larry called, "You'll make a good impression."

"You think I'm getting too fat?" she asked him.

"Nah. I mean, you always been a big girl, but I wouldn't say fat."

"What would you say?"

"Volumptuous?"

Charlene looked a herself in the mirror and rolled her eyes. She stuck her head out the door. "By the way, you can't keep hanging around here."

"Why not?"

"Because I have to show them this is a good environment for an eight year old boy."

"Shit, I'd be a good father."

Charlene snorted. "You still have any warrants on you?"

"Just that one on the missed court date."

"Yeah, for a DUI."

"That was bullshit. I wasn't even driving."

"You were passed out on the shoulder with the motor running."

"They can't prove I didn't park, then get drunk."

Fucking idiot, she thought. She stepped into the living room.

"Larry, don't take it personal, but I have to play their game if I was to get custody of Hunter. Darryl is going to do everything he can to fuck with me. And he don't even want custody, he just wants to keep me from getting it."

"Yeah, I understand," he said, pouting.

Charlene sat next to him on the couch.

"Listen, honey, we can still get together. We just have to be really chill about it. Especially between now and when they decide. They are going to be watching me, and I've already got two strikes against me."

Larry picked up the remote and turned off the television. He sat up and draped his arm over Charlene's shoulders.

"Boo, you know I got your back."

"Thanks, Lar." She kissed him on the cheek.

"What time you got to be there?"

"Ten."

"It ain't even nine yet."

"Yeah, well, I'm fucked if I'm late."

"You won't be. We've got some time." He slid his hand into the fly of his boxer shorts.

"Jesus Christ, you like to take advantage."

"We might not see each other for a while," he said, looking at her with sad, pleading eyes.

She sighed and shook her head. "You really are an asshole," she said, but got down on her knees in front of him.

Larry pulled out his half erect cock. Charlene wrapped her hand around it and began to stroke.

"You know your big cock is the only reason I keep you around, right?"

"That's bullshit," he said, laughing.

Charlene bent down and took the head of his cock in her mouth. She swirled her tongue around it a few times, then rose up.

"Make sure you tell me when you are going to come," she said, then lowered her mouth halfway down the shaft. She sucked with a steady rhythm, slowing moving down to engulf more of his length. When it felt like he was swollen to fullness, she began to flick her tongue along the underside of his cock on each upward motion.

"Fuck, you're good at that," Larry moaned.

That's good, she thought, because I ain't got all day to hang around here with your junk in my mouth. She dove all the way down, until she felt his public hair brushing her lips, then swallowed. Larry began shifting his feet back and forth, a sure sign that he was close to getting off.

She raised her head, took a breath, then dove all the way down on him again. As she rose up, she tasted his salty come in her mouth. It was too late to swallow it.

"God damn it, Larry," she barked, "I told you to warn me."

"I'm sorry, it was too fast. I can't help it you suck so good."

She pulled the bottom of his t-shirt away from his belly and wiped her face with it.

"I got to fix my makeup now," she said, getting up. She went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror.

"Fuck, Larry, you got jizz on my sweater." She dampened a hand towel and patted at the stain.

"It won't show," Larry said.

"But even if it don't, I'll know it's there and I'll keep thinking everybody sees it."

She reapplied her lipstick, then looked in the medicine cabinet. She took out a bottle of Tums and popped a couple in her mouth, then gargled a mouthful of Listerine.

"Lock up when you leave, okay?" she said to Larry as she returned to the living room.

Larry nodded and stood up. He hugged her. "Good luck, Boo. Just keep your cool and don't let anything rile you up. It will work out."

"Thanks, Larry. We'll see."

She went to her car, but once she had started it, she sat for a minute. She looked at her trailer. I own this bitch free and clear, she thought. Same with my car. I pay all my bills, I've got money in the bank. Why should this even be an issue? For a moment, she thought she might cry, but she pulled it back, took a deep breath and drove to the Child Protective Services office.

She arrived in plenty of time. Cruising the parking lot, she did not see her lawyer's car, so she parked and waited. She craved a cigarette, but did not want to go in with the smell of smoke lingering on her. Nervously tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, she rehearsed the arguments she would make to the judge. A child belonged with a natural parent, not raised by strangers in a foster home. She was a good mom. She'd never been accused of abuse or neglect. Yes, she allowed Darryl to create a bad environment for a child, but that was on him, not her. And, god damn it, she shouldn't be judged for her occupation.

A car pulled in next to hers. It was her lawyer. She took one more look at herself in the visor mirror. I swear I can see that jizz stain, she thought. She flipped the visor up and got out of the car.

"Hey, Bridget," she called.

Bridget turned and smiled. "You look nice, Charlene."

"Thanks. I'm nervous as hell, though."

"You'll do fine," Bridget said, opening the courthouse door for her, "Remember, this is conducted pretty informally. It will just be a conversation between you and the judge. If anything is problematic, I'll speak up."

Charlene stopped before the door of the CPS office. "Are you sure I look okay?" she asked.

"You look fine."

"What about my sweater?"

Bridget looked her over. "Your sweater looks fine. Maybe a little snug."

Charlene exhaled loudly. "Okay, I'm ready," she said.

They entered the office and approached the reception desk.

"Bridget Perry, representing Charlene Kosinski. We've got a ten o'clock with Judge Long."

The receptionist looked at her computer monitor. "You're in Conference Room B. Go on in, she'll be there shortly."

The oak walled conference room was dominated by a long wooden table. On a sideboard, there was a coffee service and a tray of pastries. Charlene went to it and looked them over.

"Don't eat those," Bridget said.

"Why not?"

"It never looks right. You will get caught with a mouthful just when the judge asks you an important question. It happens every time."

Charlene shrugged. "Alright, I'll just have some coffee."

"No, just a cup of water."

"Jesus Christ, why is it even here then?"

"Which of us has done this a hundred times?" Bridget asked.

"You."

"Right, so listen to me. Now sit down."

Charlene poured a cup of water, took it to the table and sat. Bridget took the chair next to her. "Treat everything like it's a test," she said, "Everything."

The door opened. "Stand up," Bridget told Charlene out of the side of her mouth. They rose together as a tiny, gray haired woman entered the room. Charlene was disappointed that she was not wearing her robes. She looked more like a kindergarten teacher than a judge.

"Good morning, your Honor," Bridget said brightly.

"Good morning, ladies," the judge replied. She looked down at the folder in her arms. "Miss Kosinski," she said, extending her hand across the table. Charlene shook it, and they all sat down.

Judge Long took a few minutes to leaf through her paperwork, then asked Charlene a few questions about her living situation. Charlene's nerves settled as she answered. She felt on solid ground, and the judge's friendly tone put her at ease.

"Are you currently in a relationship, Miss Kosinski?" the judge asked.

"No, not really."

"What does 'not really' mean, dear?"

"I mean I have...friends...you know, I go on dates."

"So, when you say friends, you mean intimate friends?'

"Well, I mean, there's one guy I see pretty regular."

"Does this friend ever stay overnight?"

"Well, sometimes. But, if Hunter was there..."

Bridget spoke up. "Your Honor, I don't think whether or not my client dates..."

The judge held up her hand. "No need to object, Miss Perry, I am not drawing conclusions, just getting an idea of the way of things."

She looked down at the folder for a few minutes. Charlene bit her lip. She was sure that she knew what was coming next.

'Miss Kosinski," the judge asked, "Are you still employed at the Gold Dollar Lounge and Showbar?"

Charlene swallowed hard. "Yes, I am."

"And your position there is..." she took a long pause, "adult entertainer?"

"It's a legitimate occupation," Bridget said, but again, the judge cut her off with a raised hand.

"My concern at the moment is the working hours, Miss Perry. I take it that you work very late hours most nights, is that correct?" she asked Charlene.

"Well, I do now, but if I had Hunter, I would switch to days."

Judge Long looked at Charlene for a moment, her face impassive. I wouldn't want to play poker with this old bitch, Charlene thought.

The judge returned to her folder, flipped a few pages, and asked more questions about finances. Thanks to Bridget's advise, Charlene was well prepared, and took an envelope from her purse.

"I have my most recent bills from all my utilities here, your Honor," she said. "You can see that everything is paid in full."

"I'm sure they are," the judge said, then scowled.

"Here is my dilemma, Miss Kosinski," she said. "I have had other cases involving women in your...line of work. If I am not mistaken, there is substantially more money to be made on the night shifts than during the day. Isn't that true?"

"Pretty much," Charlene mumbled.

"So you are trying to show that you would be a responsible parent, in part, because you make a good income and can provide adequately for your child. But you are also telling me that if you were to regain custody, it would necessitate a significant loss of income. You see my concern, I'm sure."

Charlene was flummoxed and looked to Bridget.

"Perhaps," Bridget said, "We could present some information to the court that would more accurately tell us the difference of income changing shifts would cause."

"You certainly can present such information," Judge Long said, "Although the court might have some issues regarding the veracity of any of these income statements." She glanced quickly at Charlene, then looked back to Bridget. "Although I am sure that your client has always reported every dollar of taxable income, others may not have."

Clover wasn't worried. Tony Junior would write up anything she asked him for. As long as the judge's questions were on the level of her income, and not how she earned it, she felt confident. The rest of the meeting seemed to go well, and Judge Long smiled broadly at Charlene as she concluded the proceedings. When she had left the room. Charlene let out a deep breath.

"I think it went pretty good," she said to Bridget, "What do you think?"

"Hard to say," Bridget replied, gathering up her papers. "You didn't screw anything up, anyway."

Charlene scowled. "So, you thought I would?"

"I didn't mean it like that. But it's a minefield. You got through it."

"You don't have a very good opinion of sex workers, do you?" Charlene asked.

"Well, my job would be easier if you were a waitress or a secretary," Bridget said.

"I get that. But you, personally. I kind of feel like you look down on me."

Bridget shook her head. "Honestly, I don't. You do what you have to do. But in a general sense, yes, I have a problem with women selling their bodies for money."

"Uh huh. Well, you know what? My Dad worked his whole life down at the old stamping plant. Eight hours a day, punching holes in sheets of metal. I remember, when I was just a little girl, asking him why he only had eight fingers. So, you know, maybe we have different ideas of what it means for a person to sell their bodies."

Bridget nodded her head thoughtfully. "Fair point, Charlene. Now, we better go, they probably need the room."

Charlene picked up her purse and started to follow Bridget out of the conference room. She saw the pastry tray and stopped. She wrapped a pair of danishes and a couple of muffins in napkins and stuffed them in her purse. Win or lose, she was going to get something out of this meeting.

CHAPTER FOUR

Rhonda stepped out of her apartment at exactly noon on Sunday. Bryant was leaning on the hood of his Honda, waiting for her. She had only caught a few quick glimpses of him since Thursday, and even then, she had mostly seen him without her glasses. She leaned on the balcony rail and took a good look at him. He was wearing a tight fitting black t-shirt, tucked into a pair of khaki cargo shorts that looked freshly pressed. He waved up at her, and she smiled a waved back. I like what I see, she thought, I hope he does, too.

She had put some thought into how to dress for what she had started to think of as their first date. Her original thought was to play it cool, just wear jeans and a nice top, but she'd changed her mind and decided to go all in. She chose a short red and white summer dress and her lace up sandals. On the way out the door, she put on her big pink sun hat. Watching Bryant watch her as she strutted toward him, she felt good about her choices.

He smiled when she got nearer. "You look great," he said. He stepped to the passenger side door and opened it.

"Thank you," Rhonda replied, slipping into the seat.

"It's a beautiful day," Bryant said as he got behind the wheel, "I was wondering if you knew an outdoor place we might get lunch."

"I know a few places," she said, "I'll give it some thought."

He pulled out of the parking lot and turned north, away from the center of town. A mile down the road, he turned into a gated self storage facility. He swiped his passcard, and continued on, past seemingly endless rows of units. People have too much stuff, Rhonda thought. They stopped toward the very back of the lot.