I pull my dress a little higher and take a shot. I slide my finger down the obvious cameltoe formed by my moistening pussy lips. I take a another shot... Sometimes I finger myself for my audience, or use a sex toy, if tips have been high and the room relatively non-hostile. Sometimes I cum, and sometimes I cum hard. Sometimes I have to pretend. It is not for me. It is for them. Mostly. It feels so comforting to have my finger between my pussy lips, even though there are thin red panties between. Mr Bolter always seemed to have a nice sweetie in his pocket for the local kids and had always called me sweetheart which I liked, even though I was now sixteen and all grown up. I'd known them for years though not intimately, just as the nice old folks across the street. They were warm and familiar and for a shy girl with very strict parents, that counted for something. My dad wanted me to amount to something, he was always saying so. He pushed me to study hard for college and I wasn't. More

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