Honey
“There’s that look again.”
Honey couldn’t help but smile. Turning away from the vanity backstage at Fantasies, she spotted Bethany standing over at her mirror, a sly look on her face.
“You’re really bad at keeping things close to the chest, lady,” said Bethany.
“What?” asked Honey. “It’s nothing. He’s no one.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” said Bethany. “All it took was a little poke and I found out that it’s not only a he, but that it’s definitely not ‘no one’.”
“I mean … I don’t know,” said Honey, not even sure where to begin.
“Well, at least tell me if you two’ve fucked or not,” said Bethany.
“Bethany!” exclaimed Honey.
“You know, for a stripper, you’re pretty coy about all this stuff,” Bethany said. “Talk to any of these little tarts—”
She gestured to the rest of the girls getting ready in the back.
“—they’ll be more than happy to tell you about whatever sugar daddy’s balls they’re draining at the moment.”
“You’ve got a real way with words, you know?” said Honey. “Really classy.”
“Hey,” said Bethany with a grin, “never said I was classy.”
It’d been days since Honey and Grit had their little tryst, and Honey just couldn’t get him out of her head. It seemed like any moment her mind drifted off it was filled with images from the other night. She pictured Grit’s cock up close and personal before she wrapped her lips around it, she pictured his strong, large hands gripped onto the soft curves of her hips, and she pictured the way Grit’s face had tightened into a grimace of pleasure as he came inside of her. Even now she was getting a little wet at the thought of it.
“At least tell me how big his dick is,” said Bethany.
“It’s, um, really big.”
Bethany held up two hands about five inches apart.
“Oh, really?” she asked. “Okay, I’m gonna move my hands back, and you tell me to stop when I’m in there. Ready?’
She slowly moved her hands further apart. But she still wasn’t close.
“Seriously?” asked Bethany.
“A little more,” said Honey.
Bethany shook her head in disbelief as she continued to move her hands apart.
“Stop,” said Honey. “That’s about it.”
Bethany looked down at her hands, her eyes wide as she saw the size.
“How the hell …”
Keeping her hands the distance apart, she squatted a bit and held them near her crotch, as if trying to figure out if she could accommodate a cock that big.
“Good lord,” said Bethany. “How does a tiny little thing like you manage to handle something like that?”
“Um, well,” said Honey, looking away. “I guess when you’re turned on enough, anything’s possible.”
“Where there’s a gorgeous cock, there’s a way,” said Bethany.
“So,” said Bethany. “You guys meeting up again tonight?”
“Maybe,” said Honey. “Just waiting to see if he texts me. I haven’t seen him since the first night we … you know.”
Bethany held up her palms.
“I get it.”
However, as Bethany held her hands up, the light caught her skin in such a way that Honey was able to see the insides of her arms. She noticed something and craned her head for a better look. Bethany saw it and turned her body quickly to hide her arms.
“Whoa,” said Honey. “What the hell’s going on there?”
“What’re you talking about?”
“Your arms,” said Honey, dashing over to Bethany. “They’ve got … lemme see …”
She grabbed Bethany’s wrists and flipped over her arms so that she could see the undersides of her upper arms. Sure enough, fresh red track marks from recent drug use covered the skin like rust-colored tree branches.
“Bethany!” exclaimed Honey, dropping her friend’s wrists and stepping back in shock.
Her cry attracted the attention of the girls around them, who’d stopped what they were doing to see what the fuss was all about.
“Nothing to see here,” said Bethany. “Showtime’s in five—get back to it, girls!”
The girls did just that. Once their attention was off of the two of them, Honey lowered her voice and spoke to her friend in a hushed, concerned tone.
“You’re using again,” said Honey. “What the hell’s going on with you?”
“Listen, miss,” said Bethany her tone defensive. “I’m the fuckin’ mom around here, so keep that shit to yourself. You don’t need to pry into what I do after work. Besides, it was just one time.”
“But you’ve been clean for so long,” said Honey. “And you’ve been around the block enough to know that ‘just one time’ turns into two times, then three times, then before you know it you’re a junkie again.”
“I’m not a fuckin’ junkie,” said Bethany. “I just slipped up, is all.”
“But why?” asked Honey. “You’re doing so well. I mean, you’re, like, this close to having enough cash to get the hell out of this place for good. And you want to risk all that just to get high?”
“I know, I know,” said Bethany. “It’s fucking stupid. I’m fucking stupid. It’s just that, um, well, Charlie offered me some; said it was some primo shit that a girl like me could appreciate.”
Honey was dumbfounded by that. Why would Charlie, knowing what he knew about Bethany, get her hooked on the shit again? He’d always done his best to look out for the girls, and now he was getting them doped up? Nothing about it made sense to Honey.
“What the fuck is Charlie doing giving you that shit? And where the hell did he get it from?”
“I don’t know,” said Bethany. “But he was right—the shit was killer.”
“Just …” started Honey, choosing her words carefully. “I know you’re your own woman, but be careful. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
“You’re not gonna lose me,” said Bethany, waving her hand dismissively. “Come on—it’s gonna take more than a little backslide into the junk to get you rid of me.”
“Can you … at least not do it again? Please.”
Bethany looked away, thinking about it.
“Okay, I won’t,” she said. “Just one stupid slip-up. Next time Charlie offers me that shit, I’ll tell him where to stick it.”
“Thanks, B,” said Honey.
But before either of them could say another word, Honey’s phone buzzed in her purse. Her heart skipped a beat at the idea of it being Grit.
“That’s a girl who’s gaga,” said Bethany. “Go on, get your phone.”
Honey gave Bethany a warm smile as she took her phone out of her bag. To her disappointment, it wasn’t Grit, but instead Stone, the vice president of the Vandals. He wanted to meet that night.
“That him?” asked Bethany.
“Nope,” said Honey. “Just, um, a friend in town seeing if I want to meet up for drinks.”
The music started in the main floor, the bass booming through the walls.
“Okay, girl,” said Bethany. “Get your game face on.”
As the two of them prepared for their performance, Honey’s mind raced with what she’d just learned. Not only had Bethany been using again, but she was using drugs given to her by Charlie. And if that weren’t enough, Charlie having access to drugs all but confirmed that he was running some kind of operation on the premises. Honey figured that he was coming up with new batches and handing them out to known users to get some feedback.
If she told Stone tonight what she’d learned, it’d all but guarantee that the Vandals would move in on the place. Charlie would be screwed six ways from Sunday. Sure, giving Bethany drugs was a scummy move, but aside from that Honey felt he’d always been a great boss. Honey had always admired the way that he always looked out for the girls—this recent incident with Bethany notwithstanding.
The night flew by, and Honey went back and forth trying to decide just what to do. Part of her wanted to turn Charlie in to the Vandals and make him pay the price for being a no-good drug-pusher. But part of her felt some loyalty to her boss, the man who’d given her a job and taken good care of her.
Soon, the evening was over and Honey was on her way to the hotel. Back in the usual room, Stone awaited her alone.
“All right, gorgeous,” he said, sitting with his legs spread open in one of the room’s fancy chairs, a tallboy in his hands. “Let’s hear some good news.”
Honey took a deep breath and tried one last time to figure out the right thing to do. It was now or never.
After a long few seconds, she spoke.
“Nothing new,” she said. “Same old, same old.”