The B Girls Read Online Free Page B

I'm toting around a pair of solid C cups."
    Lucy gave her an exaggerated once over. "More
like a skimpy B."
    Jane just shook her head. "This conversation
is getting a little too weird for me. I think it's time for Mae to join the
line dance."
    Mae was shaking her head before Jane finished
talking.
    "Oh yes you are," Jane insisted.
    "You and Lucy go. I'll stay here and keep an
eye on our stuff."
    "Lucy will sit this one out," Jane said.
"You're up first."
    "I think I need another drink first. Alcohol
lends false courage and I could use a little right now," Mae said.
    Jane stood and pulled Mae to her feet. "You
can use some of that false courage later when we get you up on the dance
bar."
    The dance bar was a replica of the one the
bartenders worked behind but its purpose was only to display the dance skills
of the customers. Especially the female customers who were encouraged to
display their talents by the appreciative male customers.
    Jane had spotted this unique feature of the
Shitkicker as soon as they walked in the door and decided that her goal in
life--or at least for tonight--was to get Mae up on that bar.
    "Hell will freeze over before I dance on a
bar," Mae said.

 
    ###

 
    "Who would've guessed?" Lucy said to Jane
as they watched Mae performing a complicated clogging routine on top of the
dance bar while the crowd cheered.
    "Not me. I didn't think we'd get more than two
drinks in her, let alone get her up on that bar."
    "You know what this means?"
    "We have to get up there too?"
    "Yep," Lucy said. "Thank God we'll
never see any of these people again. I'm afraid I don't have Mae's skill."
    Jane shrugged and climbed the three steps placed at
the end of the dance bar to assist the less agile in reaching the top.
    Lucy went up after her.
    Mae grinned when she spotted them and issued a
silent challenge.
    For the next five minutes Lucy and Jane did their
best to keep up while reveling in the drunken wolf whistles and cheers of the
crowd.
    Sweaty and breathing hard, they shared a laughing
hug before climbing down.
    "Call Larry," Lucy said. "I have an
idea."
    Larry the Limo driver was providing them safe
passage tonight. They'd had to call four limo services before finding a car on such
short notice but Mae had been the only one willing to be the designated driver.
    Unacceptable, Lucy had decreed. There would be no
DD on this trip.
    "I'm almost afraid to ask," Jane said as
she pulled out her cell phone.
    "Then don't. I think it should be a
surprise."

 

The
B Girls

 
 
 
    Larry pulled the limo up to the front door of the
Shitkicker and got out to open the door for them.
    Lucy pulled him aside for a whispered conversation
that made Jane frown when she saw the look of surprise on Larry's face. Mae
wasn't paying the least bit of attention.
    Finally, Larry shrugged, grinned and handed Lucy
into the limo with Jane and Mae.
    "So where are we going?" Jane asked.
    Lucy shook her head. "Uh uh it's going to be a
surprise."
    Fifteen minutes later, Larry brought the limo to a
stop outside of Spike's Tattoos.
    Jane was shaking her head before Larry opened the
door. "No way. I'm not getting a tattoo."
    Lucy laughed. "You don't have to. You can just
watch while I get mine."
    "I think I want a tattoo," Mae said.
"A woman who dances on the bar at the Shitkicker Club should have a
tattoo. Maybe a nice butterfly."
    "You're both crazy," Jane said.
"Maybe we should come back tomorrow when we're all sober."
    Lucy pulled open the door and stepped inside.
"It'll hurt less with a few drinks onboard."
    The beep of the automatic doorbell announced their
arrival and brought a man out of the back room.
    "Can I help you ladies?"
    "No," Jane said.
    "Yes," Lucy said. "Are you
Spike?"
    "I am. What can I do for you?"
    Lucy was more than a little surprised. She'd
expected Spike to be sporting tattoos on most of his visible skin, wearing
black leather, and possibly pierced in places involving mucous membranes.
    The real Spike was slim and wearing