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Introduction:

Linnea helps Jenny get her job back
Chapter 6, In which Jenny gets her job

I knew how to get back and forth to the airport, my hotel, my clients, and a sampling of restaurants. I'd never even gotten my ears pierced, much less thought of doing anything more radical. Of course I called Jenny.

She'd sounded a bit scandalized on the phone, but she was up for anything I wanted to do -- the magic my girlfriend, Stacey, had showed me seemed to work that way. We'd had a lot of fun together, but I couldn't forget that I'd gotten Jenny fired the previous night.

Now I had a chance to make things right. I smiled at Jenny, taking in the sight of her long legs disappearing into her short cutoffs. The curves of her breasts beneath her thin top looked pretty good, too. This time, she was riding shotgun as I drove us up the road toward the Bad Hoss.

I watched her enviously as we climbed out of the car into the baking Texan heat of the strip club's parking lot. I didn't have any casual clothes except for the miniskirt and vest that were both a little too casual and a little too soiled. My black pencil skirt seemed to suck heat into it, and I felt sweat trickling down my skin beneath the blouse.

We looked at each other uncertainly before heading for the entrance. Jenny was positive some of the girls would be able to recommend somebody that could do my piercing, and I was equally sure I could convince the manager to reinstate her as a waitress. Both of us hoped the other was right.

The Bad Hoss was dark and cool and noisy. The lunch crowd was less boisterous than the evening patrons, but the sound system more than made up for them. I could feel the bass in my feet as a rider cavorted atop the mechanical horse, never quite losing her hat as she stretched from one revealing position to another.

"Good afternoon, Ma'am," the hostess greeted us, clearly unsure of what to make of the mismatched women in front of her. Her professional smile faded when she recognized Jenny. "Hey, Jenny, I heard about what happened last night. That really sucks."

"Thanks, Gayle," Jenny answered, hanging back a little bit.

I was never going to make my afternoon meeting at this pace. "I'm here to talk to the manager about it," I announced, grabbing Jenny's hand and hauling her forward to stand beside me. "Is he here?"

Gayle's gaze dropped to our intertwined fingers, and then traveled up my body a second time, more carefully. The trace of sympathy she'd shown a moment earlier was gone, replaced by studious neutrality. "Darryl's in his office."

For a strip joint, the Bad Hoss seemed to have a lot of judgmental people on staff. I smiled nicely at Gayle, squeezed Jenny's hand, and gave her a "where now?" look.

Jenny got the hint and towed me towards the bar after mumbling, "Thanks," in Gayle's direction. She was so sweet I couldn't resist dropping her hand and copping a feel of her ass through the shorts, prompting a yelp; I could feel the hostess's eyes on us as we walked away. It was hard to remember I was there on business, sort of, and not to please myself.

Darryl looked up from his cheeseburger and fries when Jenny knocked lightly on the half-open door. He didn't really look familiar to me, at least with his pants on, but I'd been bombed out of my mind on tequila and lust the previous night. From his expression, I thought he hadn't recognized me, either. "Whatcha doin' here, Jenny?" he barked gruffly around a mouthful of cholesterol. "I said I'd mail you your check."

"That's what we wanted to talk to you about," I interceded. "I don't think Jenny deserved to lose her job, and we came here to ask you to reconsider. Surely you don't have so many good employees you can afford to cast one aside for something over which she had no control."

He swallowed noisily. "What's it to you, lady? You her mother or somethin'?" Darryl laughed at his own joke.

There was no way I was old enough, or Jenny young enough, for that to be possible, which left me feeling faintly offended. She tugged weakly at my arm, but I ignored the hint. "Just a friend," I corrected him. "And a customer who thinks it's pretty hypocritical to fire Jenny for something she can't control and then take advantage of it yourself."

"You!" exclaimed Darryl, finally making the connection. I watched him mentally undress me. "What a fuckin' slut, I tell you what," he added, shaking his head. Just hearing the word sent a jolt through my pussy. "I don't know what it's like wherever you come from, but here we've got laws against public nudity and indecency. Jenny, here, had a duty to make y'all cool it or put you out, and I had a duty to enforce those same regulations and discipline employees who couldn't."

I laughed but managed to avoid rolling my eyes. "But it was okay to let me blow you in the parking lot? Give me a break, Darryl!"

"I can't control what y'all do outside," he protested. "It's like public property, almost." I could see even he thought it was a weak argument.

"So if I were to kiss Jenny, you'd have to stop us?" She squeaked when I pulled her into my arms, but melted against my body and didn't hesitate to probe my mouth with her tongue when I followed through on the question. I watched Darryl stare greedily at us out of the corner of my eye.

He started when he noticed me doing it. "There's nothing wrong with public displays of affection," Darryl said with a leer.

It was clear it would take more to get to the sanctimonious bastard, and I couldn't really say I was unhappy to take things up another notch. I backed Jenny roughly up against the office door, incidentally slamming it closed, and began running my hands up her body while we continued kissing. She made some faint sound that might have been a protest, but her eyes were closed and she was giving as good as she got. We twisted, and then she had me pinned against the door, where I could see both her and Darryl.

I could nearly see the word "sluts" form in his mind before floating across the room to brand itself in my suddenly-molten body. My hands pushed Jenny's top higher until I could knead her bared breasts and tease the hardened nipples which capped them. She responded with a guttural moan and ground her denim-clad crotch against my thigh. I heard a button bounce off something, and then I gasped at the feel of fingers roughly twisting my nipple.

When my eyes could focus again, I saw Darryl was taking in every bit of our display and the arousal written in the lines of his body just fanned my own desire. Panting, I turned Jenny so she could see him too, and pulled her butt into me. Her initial hesitation forgotten, Jenny flung her head back and began working her own tits, milking them and rotating her ass.

I held her with an arm across her tanned midriff while I tried and failed to snake a hand into the waistband of her shorts. My mind suddenly flashed on a bizarre vision of me impaling Jenny's sweet ass with a hard cock, and the imagined sensation left me on the ragged edge of orgasm before my mind processed the non sequitur and took me out of it.

"Give her another chance?" I husked, belatedly remembering the task at hand.

Darryl choked out a short laugh. "Why should I? I see this kind of thing all the time. What do <I>I</I> get out of it?" The bastard was stroking himself while he sat there, but honestly, I'd have been jilling off watching us, too.

Jenny evidently felt the same way, because she wriggled free of my grasp and stalked across the office, pulling off her top as she went. Upon reaching Darryl, she spun his chair to face her and squatted abruptly before him. "How about this, big boy?" she asked rhetorically, and then bent to take him in her mouth.

"Oh, you cum-suckin' slut," Darryl sighed happily as the liquid sounds of Jenny's slurping filled the office.

I felt moisture leaking down my legs, and Jenny picked up her pace. I was breathless with desire, about to explode watching her work on him like she was some cock-hungry slut. I struggled with the invisible zipper on my skirt, cursing it for cheating me out of some hot sex, and then the memory of Stacey's prohibition returned to me. Nothing in my dripping pussy. Damnit!

Darryl suddenly pushed Jenny off his tool. "You're gonna have to give me something more than that," he said, breathing heavily. "Show me what you got, Jenny-girl."

It seemed like a remarkably stupid thing to say; was he blind? She climbed slowly to her feet, displaying her toned and tanned body. Jenny's hands unfastened the button on her shorts, and then travelled slowly up her body, skimming her sweat-slicked skin until reaching her high-slung breasts and cupping them teasingly. Her ruddy nipples looked hard enough to cut glass.

Jenny half-closed her eyes, further emphasizing the mascara and liner that made them look even more attractive than they already were, and then her hands started south again. I didn't think she'd done a striptease before, but she'd obviously seen a few of them and understood the basics. Of course, she could have just stood there and had both of us creaming ourselves.

I moved over to stand beside Darryl's chair, because it was clear Jenny was playing more to me than him, and I could see the annoyance fighting with arousal on his countenance. Congratulating myself on learning from my mistakes, I took a quick pause to apply Stacey's special lip gloss before beginning to run my fingers through Darryl's hair.

A single pass was enough to turn up several loose strands. I wound one hair carefully around a fingertip so I could brush it against my moist lips, and then deposited it carefully on my tongue. My mouth felt parched; apparently all of the moisture in it had been pulled south to my throbbing slit by Jenny's performance.

Darryl and I stared at her, mesmerized, as she finally kicked off both her cutoffs and the absolutely drenched pair of low-rise hiphuggers that had been concealed beneath them. She looked as delicious as she had earlier in the morning, and I just knew I had to suck those puffy shining folds on display beneath her neat little pubic patch.

Precum oozed from the slit atop Darryl's urgently throbbing cock, and it looked like he might blow his wad right there. "Shit, you need it bad, don'tcha?" he grunted, watching Jenny extract a gleaming finger from herself and lightly coat her nipples. He made a grab for her, but she undulated just out of reach.

"Oh, I need it really bad," Jenny teased, making my blood boil. "How bad do you need it, Darryl? How bad do you need me?" She pressed a finger against her clit, making her body jerk.

I swallowed several times, coincidentally getting the hair down, and considered pinning her on the desk and tongue-fucking her brains out. "I think she deserves her job back," I commented to Darryl, but I wasn't sure he heard me.

"Come over here and find out, you little cock-tease," Darryl rasped, unfastening his jeans and pushing them to the floor. "Sit yourself down on my maypole and we'll have us some fun, you and I."

"Give her the job," I whispered.

He lunged for Jenny and caught her, or maybe she let him catch her. She shrieked with laughter as Darryl reeled her in, but the arms on the chair got in the way and she ended up sitting in his lap, legs sprawled to one side, with his cock sandwiched between her thigh and his groin.

"C'mon, Darryl, just hire me so we can stop screwing around, and start screwing around," Jenny insisted, wriggling so one breast rubbed against his arm and her weight pressed against his ruddy manhood. "And what are you still doing with your clothes on?" she asked me unexpectedly.

I didn't have a good answer for that, so I unfastened the remaining two buttons on my blouse and slid it off. "You'll never have a better employee," I reminded Darryl, fumbling again with the zipper on my skirt. "Last night wasn't Jenny's fault."

"What does it take to get you two sluts to shut up?" Darryl asked in an aggrieved tone of voice. With a grunt, he lofted a squealing Jenny onto his desk, scattering papers onto the floor, and then stood up. "You want a job? Fine; consider this your interview!"

Jenny obligingly spread her legs wider, and he pulled her onto his tool, hard enough to make her tits jiggle when he bottomed out inside her. "Oh, fuck, yeah!" she moaned. "Pound me, Darryl!"

They looked sexy as hell, especially with Jenny squirming and carrying on like Darryl's cock was electrified or something. I knew she really liked her boyfriend, Daniel, but sometimes a girl just needed to satisfy her urges. It wasn't like she felt anything for Darryl -- she was just using him for physical gratification, the same as he was using her. The thought was so arousing.

I wanted to be used, too, for raw sex, the way Big Bill and his friends had made me the receptacle for their scum-filled cocks. "Coat her," I moaned, fingering myself urgently while I watched the pair approach their release.

Darryl abruptly pulled out. "Work for it, slut!" he hissed through clenched teeth, and then started jetting onto Jenny's writhing body. The first strand reached from her tits to her neck, and the others landed across her tummy and thighs. She orgasmed violently while working her frothing slit with one hand and using her fingers to collect the hot semen and bring it to her mouth.

My own release was so close I could taste it, but suddenly my hand froze and Stacey's commandment crashed back down on me. I wanted to scream with frustration, but my mind suddenly jumped to the solution to my problems. "I want you in my ass right now, and I'm not taking 'no' for an answer," I snapped at a surprised Darryl, elbowing him aside.

Jenny tensed and moaned raggedly when I ran my tongue up her dripping slit, and then Darryl skewered my rosebud and I was in heaven. I came almost immediately, but there was no way I planned to settle for just a single orgasm. Jenny's hands tangled in my hair suggested she felt the same way.



"Hey, Darryl, do y'all want the kegs--"

I raised my head slightly and looked up the length of Jenny's quivering body at the slack-jawed man standing in the doorway. "Don't stop!" I hissed when Darryl began to falter, and his rhythmic pumping picked up again.

"Don't mind the girls," Darryl reassured him. "What can I do you for?"

"Fuckin' A!" the stranger exclaimed. "Doin' the help in the middle of the day? What if somebody catches you, Darryl? You'd be in a shitload of trouble!" He looked furtively over his shoulder before stepping into the office and closing the door again.

Darryl chuckled. "You caught me, Larry, and I ain't in trouble. Besides, they don't work here -- just a pair of sluts looking for a good boning." He punctuated the remark with a quick slap of my ass that left it stinging.

"Hey!" Jenny and I objected in chorus. "You promised me my job!" she cried out, before I could complain about the corporal punishment.

"I promised you a job," Darryl corrected her, "and you ain't done interviewing, yet, remember?" He looked across the office at Larry, who was staring at all of us like we belonged on another planet. "C'mon, Larry, admit it. Wouldn't you like to see this little missy ridin' the stallion? Or maybe ridin' you, seein' how she's such a little slut?"

"We are not sluts, and don't slap me again," I growled.

Larry appeared dubious. Darryl looked like he was going to hit me again just for spite, but then changed his mind, and then shifted his weight like he might back away, but then went back to his methodical shafting of my rectum.

Jenny peeled with laughter and sat up on the desk so she could kiss me lightly. "I don't know why you're so hung up on that word, Linnea," she said. "We are sluts, and I like it. No, I love it."

She swung a leg over my head and eased herself off the desktop. "I admit, when I saw you for the first time last night, I was a little dubious. When I saw you sitting on Big Bill's lap, letting him fuck you like that, I was shocked." Jenny pushed a pair of fingers into herself and sighed. "But... you showed me a side of myself I didn't know existed. Something that would have repulsed me, but -- doesn't, anymore."

Had I really done that? "Jenny..." I hesitated, unsure what to say.

"I love being a slut," she repeated, and I felt my body heat in unconscious agreement. "It makes me hot when people look at me that way; when they want to fuck me." Jenny moistened her lips, staring at the increasingly prominent bulge in Larry's jeans. "Letting them actually do it is like being on fire," she sighed, and then started stroking herself.

"It's so primal, being a slippery piece of fuckmeat for anyone who wants me," Jenny mused, caressing Larry's straining crotch. "You'll fuck me, won't you, Larry? I want you to mark me with your cum; I want to feel you in every hole I have."

Larry looked like somebody who was sure he was dreaming, but he didn't put up any fight when Jenny started unfastening his pants. Instead, he pulled her into a wet, sloppy kiss and she started rubbing herself against him like, well, a slut.

I realized I was vibrating like a violin string, wildly excited both by the sight of her and the insights which, word by word, inflated my libido to unsustainable levels. I thought I literally might explode. "Oh, fuck, yeah," I gasped, shuddering as Darryl pounded me harder than ever while panting like a steam locomotive.

Jenny pulled Larry towards the desk, using his erection like a handle, and then lay back on it beside me. She spread her knees wide, both displaying and offering herself. I heard her whispering, "fuck me, fuck me," over and over, so softly I don't think the men heard her.

Larry rose to the challenge, as if there really had been any doubt, and started banging away like he thought there was a timer somewhere counting down. I looked sideways at Jenny, just out of kissing range, and saw the haze of sheer lust dulling her eyes. She blinked and focused on me, panting raggedly. "You'll clean me, after," she gasped.

The words travelled from my ears to my brain and I collapsed to the desktop, my body wracked by a massive orgasm. Darryl slammed himself into me and arched backwards, groaning, as he exploded inside me. He slipped out of me and I felt more of his spend scalding my lower back and buttocks where it fell.

"You slut," Jenny repeated, clearly amused, and I was in no position to gainsay her.



I ended up having to reschedule my meeting for the following morning and extend my trip by a day. We might have been okay, but then Dave came in to complain Larry's truck was blocking the loading area, and then Gayle came in to see where everybody was. She left immediately, but I guessed she must have said something, because Darryl -- Jenny, really -- started getting a string of visitors. Some of them just looked and left, but a bunch didn't.

The office was just a little too noisy, so I regretfully slid on my skirt and blouse and stepped into the hallway to make my calls. The travel number was easy -- nobody at the office was going to quibble over a trip adjustment with my sale to Consolidated hitting the books. I hated to reschedule with the client, but they were understanding.

Stacey was a different matter. I chickened out and slipped back into the office to drown my sorrow in Jenny's sloppy gash. She looked so happy, and sexy, in her rut that I longed to just change places with her. Darryl eyed my ass with an evident appreciation that made me feel better, but his cock wasn't able to keep up. I walked over to stand next to him while I waited for the cook standing between Jenny's thighs to finish up.

"She gets a good job as long as she wants it, right?" I asked, just to make everything had stuck. Unfortunately, I had a lot of experience with how a company could screw its employees, and I didn't mean the screwing Jenny was getting. "And full pay, too -- not a dime less than anybody else."

"Don't worry," Darryl assured me. "Some of the dancers make more than I do, with tips. Jenny could make a lot more." He winked.

"Look, I don't care if she is a slut," I heatedly replied, ignoring the twinge inside. "Listen carefully, Darryl." I grabbed his balls for emphasis. "You will give Jenny the same base pay as the highest-paid employee doing basically the same job. You will not skim, or force her to report, tips any differently than any other employee."

"Oh fuck, that's nasty!" exclaimed the meat delivery driver, who was smearing his jism around on Jenny's face, ignoring her extended tongue. He was looking at the cook, who was holding Jenny's legs up to provide better access to her ass, which was gripping his cock tightly.

"Yeah," the cook agreed, punctuating a thrust. "My girl would never do this. Working here just got a whole lot better!" They both laughed breathlessly.

I looked back at Darryl and squeezed until I had his attention again. "You will not -- I repeat, not -- take advantage of Jenny. We both know she has... needs." I had them too, but unlike her, I didn't have a predatory working environment. "Like you said, in private between consenting adults is no big deal. You will not pressure her, or allow anybody else to pressure her, to do anything she doesn't want to do." Frankly, that seemed unlikely, but I was covering all the bases.

"And if anybody pays you, or anybody else, to be with Jenny, you will make sure every penny of that gets to her. She is not a whore, and you are not her pimp. Got it?" I gave him a squeeze for emphasis.

"Jesus, yes!" Darryl yelped. "I got it!" He extricated himself from my grip. "You must be one hell of a saleswoman," he commented, while rubbing himself gently.

I was strangely touched by the backhanded compliment. It was reassuring to know I was more than just a good fuck. The thought reminded me of the other reason we were there. "Listen, Darryl," I said, trying to sound conversational, "do you know any of the girls who are, um, decorated down here?" I gestured vaguely at the front of my skirt.

"She wants a pussy ring," shouted Jenny from the desk. I hadn't realized she was paying any attention to us.

All of the men were looking at me; it was a little embarrassing. The attention was gratifying, but I wanted it to be because they wanted to fuck me, not because they thought I was kinky or something. I put up my chin and prepared to bulldoze ahead. "Can you just tell me?"

"C'mon, y'all, get back to work before somebody calls the cops," Darryl announced. "Don't you have some BBQ to start, T.J.?"

The guys all looked pretty fucked out, so they didn't put up too much resistance before pulling up their pants and filing out of the office. Jenny looked totally delectable, suffused with a just-been-fucked glow, and it was hard to concentrate on anything else.

Apparently I wasn't the only one who thought so. "Jenny, I need my desk back and you're purely distracting," Darryl drawled, not unappreciatively. "Why don't you run down to the break room and freshen up, and then come back so I can get you on the books again."

"Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Jenny crowed, suddenly finding the energy to bounce to her feet. "You're the greatest -- both of you!" She skipped over and gave first Darryl and then me a quick hug and a kiss. "I'll be right back!"

I savored the faint taste of semen as I watched Jenny retrieve her shorts from the floor and pull them on. She bounced a few times to get them all the way on, which did really nice things to her boobs, and then scurried out of the office, still topless. I presumed the break room was nearby.

"Women," Darryl muttered as he sat down in his chair and surveyed the wreckage of his desktop, but I could tell his heart wasn't in it. After a moment, he spun around opened the top drawer of a small filing cabinet sitting against the wall. He retrieved a three-ring binder from it and held it out. "Here, you can start looking at these."

Curious, I opened the binder and found a full-page color picture of a naked girl. She was smiling and holding a blowup of her driver's license. "What is this?" I asked, slightly nonplussed.

"My dancers," Darryl replied, looking up from a second binder. "You wanna ask about getting' a piercing, only makes sense to ask somebody who's got one, right?" He started flipping through his binder again.

"Yeah," I allowed, following the logic. "But what are these for?" I pressed, waving the binder.

"Avoiding complications," was the terse reply. Darryl saw my expression and continued without prompting. "Look -- what was your name again? Linnea?" I nodded. "Linnea. Running this place isn't a picnic. Some girls think they want to do it, until they get up in front of a crowd. Some lie about their ages, or their names. The government gives me shit about hiring illegals; can you fuckin' believe it? One girl turned out to be a guy!" He shuddered.

"This here clears through all that crap. I know she's serious and somebody my customers will be willing to pay to look at. If the cops come around, I can show 'em a girl is willing and legal." Darryl laughed. "Or leastways had a good fake id!"

I smiled unwillingly and turned my attention back to the book. Navel piercings were common, and one woman had studs in her nipples. I sat down on the corner of the desk, fascinated by the variety of forms and attitudes on display, and beginning to understand the attraction of pornography.

Every picture was superficially the same: an attractive smiling woman holding a blown-up copy of a license next to her while standing nude in front of the door to Darryl's office. The vibes were all over the map.

Cathiryne -- where did parents learn to spell? -- looked like a cheerleader, although her birthday made her 19 at the time the picture'd been taken. She looked so innocent, it was easy to imagine her mouth forming a round "O" and her heart tripping beneath her perky little tits as she felt her first cock press into her firm body. I started dripping as I fantasized about being the first person to taste her pussy. Alas, she was decorated only by a small flower tattoo above one ankle, and I turned the page.

My eyes grew wide when I looked at Dawn's picture. She was darkly complected, obviously Hispanic, and the rings stood out in sharp contrast to her smooth skin. They were everywhere: ears, nose, nipples, navel, and in rows down both sides of her vulva. If that weren't enough, she had rings on all her fingers, at least a pair of toe rings, uncounted hoop bracelets, and a thin metallic choker. "What about Dawn?" I asked.

"Which one?" Darryl asked, looking up.

"Valenzuela," I said, showing him.

He shook his head. "Why would you want to mess yourself up like that?" he asked. "She moved on. A little too edgy for us poor cowboys -- we like our women wholesome-looking, you know?"

A few pages later I found Veronica and shifted again, wishing I could touch myself through my skirt. Her smile was broad, but the knowing look in her eyes and the way she held her body were invitations to carnal submission. She reminded me somewhat of Stacey in her fey moments, when I'd felt she could lead me to some dark place inside myself where I might not emerge. I licked my lips breathlessly and forced myself to continue browsing.

At some point I felt a soft breath near my ear and realized Jenny was leaning over my shoulder. "I've seen Bekka dance," she whispered. "She was pretty hot."

I nodded in agreement, but turned the page.

"Hattie," Darryl said decisively, slapping a hand on the page for emphasis.

"Hattie Watson?" Jenny exclaimed in disbelief. "No!"

Darryl smirked and displayed the open binder. I felt Jenny's bare breasts pressing against my back as she leaned further forward for a better view.

A young girl looked up at us, tanned and vibrant. She held her license like she might a sign for the fundraiser carwash, and if Hattie looked like the girl next door, her expression held a challenging note. She was shaved bare, which I liked, and a small ring hung neatly at the apex of her rosy cleft. I noticed the photo was dated two days after her eighteenth birthday.

Jenny began laughing hysterically, clinging to me. "Oh no," she gasped, only to break out in giggles again. "Hattie!" Finally she collected herself sufficiently to add, "I never saw her here!"

"She only danced one night," Darryl said with a wicked grin. "You didn't start 'till way after. Know her?"

I looked back and forth between them, wanting to be let in on the joke.

Wiping a tear from one eye, Jenny filled me in. "I went to school with Hattie. She was so stuck-up! I mean, her father's the minister at First Baptist since forever, and she was president of the Purity Club. I can't believe she was a dancer here!"

"Neither could her Pappy," chuckled Darryl. "He was in the next day, swearing up a blue streak, and promising I'd burn in Hell if she ever set foot in here again. Never seen either of 'em since." He considered the photo again. "Purely a shame, if you ask my opinion."

"She's probably still grounded," Jenny giggled. "Oh please, let me call her! I know she'll tell me where she got it done."

We looked at each other; Darryl shrugged. "Well..." I temporized, thinking I really didn't want to cold call somebody about that.

"Goody!" cheered Jenny, stooping to pick up the cordless phone from where it had fallen off the charger on the desk.

"You know her number?" asked Darryl, speaking for both of us.

Jenny looked at us, wearing only a few stray droplets of water and her cutoffs, which were unfastened sufficiently to give us a glimpse of her pubic curls. "Please," she said, looking at us like we were morons. "Who do you think was vice-president of the Purity Club?" She started dialing.
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