Strip Tease
Chapter One
Caroline Richards was trapped in the eighties.
A bad music, big hair, completely tacky version of the eighties.
She sighed and stirred her over-watered drink, wishing she were anywhere but
here. Mollie had a lot to answer for.
Of course, if Mollie knew what she was up to, she'd probably bust a blood
vessel.
But she couldn't throw a proper bachelorette party without a stripper, could
she?
"Hey, baby." A raspy voice interrupted her thoughts. She turned to find a man
with Farrah Fawcett hair, a beer belly, a bow tie and what amounted to a Speedo
standing at her table. "You ready for another screaming orgasm?"
She blinked twice, then looked down at her drink. Oh, yeah. "No, thanks," she
replied. Why try another? It hadn't lived up to its name the first time around.
More like a whimper.
He shrugged and headed back to the bar, leaving her alone again.
For a Friday night, the place was pretty dead. A group of five women whooped it
up a few tables over, passing around some physically impossible sex toys and
ignoring the man gyrating on stage only a few feet away.
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