02 June 2012

Entry 2

I sighed. "Carey was supposed to paint my house, not cast a seduction spell in my bedroom. Every time I walked in there, I was hornier than a two-dicked billy goat. And then he'd just happen by hoping to catch a little of that action. That son of a bitch got what he deserved, Lisa."

I finished the paperwork and had Jacko add the caveat that the favor he needed would be fulfilled during the life of the car. I really didn’t need to add the addition since the way that these sorts of things worked was if the promise was broken, the parties involved no longer had to fulfill any promises made. But I wanted to be sure. I also thought that maybe this car would last a little longer just so that he could string me a long for a while.

I drove away and fell in love with my new car.

I'm not like other people. I don’t need a fancy car to feel good about myself and I certainly don’t need anything to make up for the size of my pecker. But there's something about driving a Cadillac that makes you feel good.

This new car was a Cadillac De Ville with all the bells and whistles. Well all the bells and whistles you could get in a nine year old vehicle. I gunned the V8 and listened to the engine roar. It sounded good anyway.

I may be a witch and I may have been around for a while but I didn’t know squat about the workings of an engine. I could give your boyfriend a pecker hard as Chinese algebra or make your boobs look bigger but I didn’t know how to work a damn can opener. And for all my expertise in making potions and brews, I can't cook either. So between those two things, I was very thankful for pop-top cans. Otherwise, I'd starve.

Not that I couldn’t stand to lose a couple pounds. Oh my years of dancing, first as a Vegas showgirl and later in exotic dance clubs had toned my butt so much you bounce a quarter off it but my thighs could use some help. My height - I'm 5'8" - helps in hiding just how flabby those thighs were. Even fat legs look great when they are long legs.

Thank the Goddess I still had my great boobs though. I've never had to spell my own boobs because the good Lord gave me plenty to work with. I’d never had to stuff my bra or have surgery or any of that stuff. Of course, as I got closer to 40, I could see them start to droop.

Great boobs paired with a slender waist and long legs had made me a very successful showgirl. And that little extra spark that I used to convince Jacko was why I was successful at other things.

I headed for work. I'm the Lead Show Manager at <INSERT TITTY BAR NAME>. It's a classy place - much classier than some places I've danced. I've pretty much hung up my eff-me pumps - I've got bad plantar fasciitis and those shoes are murder on your feet.

I commonly refer to myself as the Lead Titty Wrangler because that’s what I seem to do all the time. Get the girls dressed. Get the girls on stage. Get the girls to stop bitchin’ and gripin’. It’s about as easy as herding cats.

No comments:

Post a Comment