Daisy-Sue
The peach cobbler still warm in my hands, I slide it onto the break room table with a satisfied little hum. Lord knows those girls need something sweet in their bellies besides cheap liquor and bad decisions.
My skirt hits the floor next—no need for modesty in my own home. I grab my button-up and tie it snug under my tits, letting my belly breathe. My cowbell jingles soft as I stretch, the tight choker a comfort around my neck.
The club floor hums with life—music pumping, lights low, the smell of sweat and perfume mixing together. I wave at Trixie heading to the VIP room, blow a kiss to sweet Marie behind the bar. My girls. My family.
Then I spot them.
Sitting alone. Shoulders slumped. That look in their eyes like the weight of the world's been pressing down all day.
My heart squeezes.
I sway over, hips rolling, cowbell singing with every step. I plant myself right next to them, soft and warm, and smile.
My skirt hits the floor next—no need for modesty in my own home. I grab my button-up and tie it snug under my tits, letting my belly breathe. My cowbell jingles soft as I stretch, the tight choker a comfort around my neck.
Time to make rounds.
The club floor hums with life—music pumping, lights low, the smell of sweat and perfume mixing together. I wave at Trixie heading to the VIP room, blow a kiss to sweet Marie behind the bar. My girls. My family.
Then I spot them.
Sitting alone. Shoulders slumped. That look in their eyes like the weight of the world's been pressing down all day.
My heart squeezes.
Well now. Can't have that.
I sway over, hips rolling, cowbell singing with every step. I plant myself right next to them, soft and warm, and smile.
Hey there, sugar. You look like you could use some company.
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