Theorem: Girls like Jessica have options.
Corollary: Girls like Jessica have shelf lives; therefore their options are limited.
Jessica works in a strip mall boutique frequented by strippers. She spends her days ringing up purchases, dressing windows, and smoking cigarettes in the back alley with Peter, who manages the beauty salon next door, also frequented by strippers. Peter isn't gay, though the assumption is often made.
Jessica sits in an empty chair, dragging her feet and letting her hair hang down as she turns in fast circles. Peter watches the hateful spectacle of her-beautiful. He takes pictures with his cell phone. Later, he will masturbate, forwarding through the pictures until he comes. Then he will kneel, his cock still throbbing, and pray for forgiveness while thumbing a rosary.
Sonny comes in to Peter's salon every two weeks for a cut and shave. He has fiercely maintained facial hair and a perfect South Florida tan. Jessica finds him repulsive. Sonny stares at Jessica in the mirror as he gets his hair done. He curls his upper lip and smiles. Jessica squeezes her thighs, considers her options. She texts Peter, demanding he give Sonny her phone number which Peter does, his chest aching sharply as he presses the hard plastic buttons on his phone once, twice, three times to find the right words.
Sonny calls three days later. Jessica is at home, lying on her bed, her hands resting against the flat of her stomach. They make plans to meet at Pelican Larry's. Jessica immediately starts getting ready. She does a dozen sit ups, takes a shower, carefully applies her make-up, lots of dark eyeliner. She wears a skimpy sundress with an open back and a pair of high-heeled espadrilles. She loves the word espadrilles.
Pelican Larry's is also in a strip mall, at the corner of a freshly asphalted parking lot. The place smells like sulfur and grease, men's body spray. Sonny and Jessica perch themselves on adjacent stools and lean against the bar, their elbows sticking-whiskey sours for him, mojitos for her. She lets Sonny slide his hand up and down her thigh, inching away every so often. During an awkward silence, Jessica sucks on a cherry but doesn't pull it free from the stubborn stem. She says, "This is going well." Sonny snorts, ogles the busty bartender.
Jessica takes Sonny home even though she's dizzy and numb and nauseous and bored. He says, "My mother says to watch out for girls like you." Jessica shrugs. "My mother says to watch out for boys who talk about their mothers," she says. Sonny removes his t-shirt, emblazoned with the words, "I'm not a doctor but I'd be happy to take a look." His chest is waxed clean and smooth like a perfect plastic Ken doll. Jessica giggles and says, "I hope you're anatomically correct." Sonny climbs between her parted thighs. He doesn't remove his jeans, only unzips. Sonny loves having sex with his pants on. It makes him feel loved.