lay it on me strong --- open

[felonee adrianne legendre]

Felonee was ready for a good night out. She knew in her heart that she needed a release. She had worked the past seven days in a row, and finally she had gotten a night, then the following day off. She might have made it look like she had an easy job, but dealing with perverted old men all day and night really did wear on a person. There was a lot she could handle, and she knew that in her profession perverted men kind of came in the job description, but every once in a while a hot and young perverse man would have been nice. Yet, instead, it was always older men, oogling at her goodies whilst she served them their coffee and food. She always made good tips, and she brought home a great deal of money every single night, and then a good amount on Friday, but the job was beginning to lose it's luster.

Fel yanked on a pair of tight, holed up jeans, her cowboy boots, and a white tank top, that rode low on her bust line. She wore a white pear necklace around her tanned neck finishing off the look, and adding a touch of innocence and class to it. Her lips were glossed to perfection, and her eyes lined with coal black. Her red hair fell down to her bust line in wavy wisps of ginger. She had eyed herself in the mirror for a second before she had grabbed her keys, and headed out the door. Her truck was a little cold on the inside, and it took a minute for it to heat up before she was on her way to the local bar. She needed to get her rocks off, and she knew that this particular bar was always full of cowboys, and other drunken, sexually frustrated men. It was the best place to go.

Fel parked the truck, hopping out. Her boots clicked against the dampened pavement, and the streetlights cast the only light around, except for the bar sign. She could hear the country music pouring out of the door as she clicked the lock button twice, and listened to the truck beep back to her. She sighed, running a manicured hand through her ginger hair, then moved along. The bouncer didn't bother checking her ID. He knew that she was of age, and he knew that it would only be an hour before she would be leaving with some drunken fool that she would use and abuse for a few weeks, or maybe just a few days, then she would be back to scout out another one. Her tank top rode up, showing off her tanned and toned midsection, allowing the tops western spurs that rested on each of her hips, pointing in the down position towards a certain area to be seen against her tanned skin.

So maybe she was a wild girl, but Fel could calm down if she ever found that guy, but thus far, there was no one in sight that ever remotely made her want to quit what she was doing. She had one serious relationship, and cheating had ruined that. Never again would she allow a man to use, and hurt her. Instead, she would do the job first. She knew how to use her looks to her advantage, and she always did. She never had to wait long for a sucker to approach her, and then it was done. She was like a black widow. She would fuck them, use them, then she would kill them; emotionally speaking. The bar smelled of cologne and beer, which wasn't a good combination. The music blared over the speakers, and she watched as many danced.

After she had a tall glass of whickey she moved to the floor. She didn't need a dance partner, she could do it all by herself, and that she did. Her hips moved to the beat, arms up in the air, making it look easy, and so sexy that most men just watched her, not wanting to interupt her. She felt hands on her body, and she turned. Instantly her temper flared, but she didn't say anything beside what most people would have. "Earl, get off of me, I am dancing, and I don't wanna be bothered." she spoke kindly to him. She didn't want any fights, she just wanted to have some fun. Then his hands were on her ass, and he was pulling her against him, squeezing her butt hard in his palms. Fel simply moved back from him. She knew that he was drunk, and he was one of her best tipping customers, she didn't need to lose that money.

Earl was a man in his late thrities, maybe even early forties. A well built man, and probably would be considered attractive to women his own age. She found him repulsive. He always came into the shop, and just stared at her, never looked her in the eyes, his eyes were always focused else where. She pulled from him, moving back towards her own space, but he grabbed her arm, and he grabbed it hard, yanking ehr back to him. Her red hair bouncing as she felt herself tripping towards him. His hand back on her body, and she wanted to punch him, but she did not. She didn't need to get kicked out of this place already. "Let go of me Earl, you are hurting my friggan arm." But he just wasn't giving up. This was a downside to her occupation. OBsessive men. What a great night this would be.

But soon Earl was gone, it never failed when it came toa dumb male coming to rescue in hopes that he would see her without her clothes on. And she didn't mind that, but as the fight erupted, Felonee, as she was, went on with her merry time. She slipped back to the bar for another drink, and gulped it down before letting her gorgeous eyes scan the bar, looking for something to stick up at her. Something of interest, yet she found nothing. But she had to pray something would come, hopefully.