Penner tells me you're hot stuff on stage, only I don't take any man at his word. Let me see how you peel, so I can judge for myself."
"All the way?"
Manny smiled sourly. "You can leave the boots on. I wouldn't want you to feel naked."
Trish ignored the sarcasm in his voice, and her breasts bounced toward his glistening face, like two moons on a collision course, as she reached between her shoulder blades and unclasped her flaming half-bra. She held it in place, causing Manny to growl, "Show those tits, kid."
Trish exhaled loudly and released her grip on the half-bra. A second later her magnificent breasts tumbled into nakedness. Nipples hardened immediately as the air rushed against them, but the ice of disinterest continued to chill her loins as Manny licked his pink, plastic lips again and rasped, "Now the panties, kid."
She started to tell him to shove the job up his ass. Then she remembered Bruce Cord and changed her mind. Hands came alive. She hooked her fingers into the elastic waistband of her red panties and peeled them down past her hips, over her thighs. Her breasts swung tantalizingly as she bent over and removed her scanties all the way. She tossed them aside, came erect, and a bitter smile curved her lips as she locked glances with Manny Black and asked, "Satisfied?"
Manny made no attempt to conceal his erection as he stood up. He shook his head. "Not yet. Turn around and let me see your ass, kid."
Christ, Trish thought as she spun around on a boot heel and showed Manny Black her dimpled buttocks. Gabe told me that getting this prick to book me would be easy…
Manny cut into her acid thoughts. "I like your ass, kid. It's real pretty. But is it tight?"
Trish's guts knotted. What was this ugly bastard up to? She found out a moment later as Manny gripped her buttocks and proceeded to knead them. She stood frozen, until he attempted to shove a thick finger beyond her tense sphincter. Then, whirling to face him, she hissed, "Not a chance, chum; I'm not about to let you screw me in the ass."
Manny glared at her. "In that case, the interview is over." He nodded toward her scattered clothing. "Climb into your glad rags and hit the street, kid." He started to turn away.
"Listen, Mr. Black," Trish said, her voice bringing him back to her once more. She paused, watched him closely. "I don't mind playing house, but maybe we can do it some other way. I'm willing to fuck for the job I'm after. I'll even suck for it. How does that grab you?"
"Not very hard. I'm strictly a back-door man, and any girl who doesn't go that route with me looks elsewhere for employment, so make up your mind, kid… strap some ring on my dick or get the hell out of here." He lapsed into silence for a few seconds. When he spoke again, he sounded impatient. "Well, what's the answer, kid?"
Trish's eyes dropped to the prominent bulge in his crotch, then moved up to his ugly face. Her voice sagged with resignation. "You win, Mr.
Black. I need this job. My ass is yours."
"Now you're being smart," Manny said as he shrugged out of his coat, then unzipped his fly and hauled out nine inches of the fattest sausage Trish had ever seen. He nodded toward his cluttered desk. "I like to fuck assholes standing up, so latch on to the edge of the mahogany, huh?"
Trish hated him in silence as she moved to obey. She gripped the edge of the desk, then bent forward until her breasts touched wood. She held her breath and waited. Manny moved into position behind her. His hot hands scorched her hips. She flinched beneath his touch and said in a small voice, "Don't hurt me."
Manny's right hand left her hip, and a pulse beat later she felt the tip of his thick penis come into contact with her puckered anal ring. She held her breath, then belched it all out as he rammed his whang into her with one brutal thrust, all the way to its hilt. She gripped the desk until her knuckles turned white and shrilled, "You're hurting me, you're hurting me! Take it out! Oh, my God, you're killing me with that big cock of yours!"
Manny dug his fingernails into her twitching hips and snarled, "The pain will pass, doll; start fucking!"
Do as he asks, Trish told herself. If you don't… you won't get the job… and he'll end up fucking your ass for free!''
She clenched her teeth against the agony that flooded her entire system and started fucking.
"Now you're hitting on all cylinders," Manny panted as he sawed his enormous whang in and out of her back passage. "Keep it up, kid, and it won't be long before I break my string." And it wasn't.
A few seconds after she started bucking against the cock that was goring her anus, Manny moaned like a sick wind, shuddered and erupted…
"Ah," Trish hissed, "that burns!"
Manny kept his prod locked deep in her back hole until he finished squirting. Then he jerked his softening flesh free and laughed harshly. "Kid, that was the tightest hole I've crawled into with this meat of mine in quite a while."
Trish straightened and faced him with a frosty smile. "You didn't crawl; you jumped. Christ, it's a wonder I didn't blank out when you shoved it to me like that!"
"Good thing you didn't," Manny said as he grabbed a handful of facial tissues from the box on his desk and proceeded to clean his wilting whang. "It would have cost you the job you're after."
"It's mine?"
Manny grinned. "It's yours. You can start doing your thing tonight. It's only a weekend job. Friday, Saturday and Sunday. You'll do your show three times a night, and get twenty bucks for doing it."
"Each show?"
Manny shook his head. "For each night. I know it's not much but if you play to the drunks, you can earn extra by conning them into tossing money on the stage." He finished cleaning his prod, crammed it back inside his pants, zipped up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do."
Trish knew she was being dismissed. She was glad to go. She dressed hurriedly, and three minutes later she was straddling another stool at the bar. The bartender slid a gin-and-tonic in front of her, asked, "Did you get the job?"
"I did."
"In that case, the drink's on the house."
"Thanks."
The bartender smiled at her breasts and walked away to serve another customer. Trish started sipping the free gin-and-tonic. She was nearly to the bottom of the glass when Gabe Penner came in and sat down beside her. He sounded like the drink pusher's echo as he queried, "Did you get the job?"
Trish rubbed her still-aching ass and smiled bitterly. "I got more than that, lover. Why didn't you warn me that the pervert who owns this dive was a bit gear for the rear?"
Gabe bared his teeth in a mirthless grin. "I wanted to surprise you."
"You succeeded. So did Manny Black. That bastard took me like a fucking rabbit. Strictly wham, bam, thank you ma'am. No grease, no nothing. Christ!"
"Stop thinking about it, puss. You got the job; that's all that matters. But I knew you would. You're lucky that way."
Trish's face clouded as she thought back to last night. Hank Lockridge's death had screwed her plans for doing a quick fade from these stinking boondocks. Because of him, somewhere out in Lonesome Valley a dream was hanging by its thumbs. Yeah, her mind muttered, I'm lucky, all right. Real lucky. When I agreed to go the skyjack route, I was just an eighteen-year-old loser with nowhere to go but down. Now, thanks to stupid old Hank Lockridge, I'm still going in the same direction.
Trish stopped feeling sorry for herself. She nodded toward the window, asked, "What's shaking in the street?"
Gabe shook his head. "Nothing much. Mustang Airlines sent some heat here, but they aren't getting anywhere with the locals. They should be gone by nightfall."
Trish sighed. "I wish I could say the same for us."
Gabe's lips tightened at their corners. "So do I, puss, but that won't happen until we find the missing bread."
"I'm glad you brought up the money. Why don't we start looking for it tomorrow?"