Paco Rabanne?
Paco RabanneShe leans back against the pole, hard metal cold on her skin.
Yeah, Paco Rabanne.
Paco Rabanne.She poses, pirouette style, in her high, high heels and skimpy lingerie.
Or Armani maybe.
ArmaniShe isn’t sure.
Whatever it is the douche in the Tom Ford suit must have taken a bath in it.
Tom FordShe slides her butt down, nice and slow for him, pictures his face. Holding the squat, legs splayed, she marks time with the music – one, two, three – and pushes upright. Warrant’s Jani Lane whoops to a backbeat; Cherry Pie – sweet. It’s like muzak in a shopping mall, she’s sure she heard it in Wal-Mart the other week.
Cherry PieShe tilts her hips, eyes the guy in the chair, now with a noticeable bulge in his Tom Ford suit. She arches her back, rolls her pelvis forward,
