Sweet Christ on a bike but Nicola hated dollar beer night at the bar.
The place was always packed from the seedy stage to the grimy bar, wall to wall with every drunken college frat boy within a hundred mile distance. Almost three hundred sweating, stinking, immature fuck-ups swilling down cheap beer and leaving crap tips as they groped her, all packed into one tiny bar.
It was nights like these that Nicola really missed her ex. Max had been a shit and a fuck-up, but there had been something infinitely comforting about dating one of the bouncers. Max, useless as he always was in most areas of life, had always looked out for her in the bar, at least. The other bouncers did their jobs ok, but Nicola liked to have that killer instinct that thrummed inside a man and told him not to let his lay get groped.
Mother Mary on a trike but Nicola longed for cage fighting night, when the bruising hulks from across the street came in.
Yeah, it had been nice, fucking one of the bouncers, but it wasn’t like Max was hung like a war criminal, so it had been a while since she’d felt thrumming like she wanted to feel thrumming.
Getting groped by Thundarr the Terrible was terrific, and he did his business more than ok. He had a killer instinct, and a kind of groping-your-lay combination move that made Nicola wish that the towel girl job she’d applied for across the street would work out soon, so she could play where she was laid.
Yeah, it was nights like these that Nicola really missed her sex.
Opening: Moth.....Continuation: Robin