What to wear?
That was the question running through Lara's mind as she looked down at the clothes lying on her bed.
What was she doing - was the other question that she was doing her best to ignore. She was doing what she needed to. She had no other choice.
She had rent to pay. Her one bedroom flat was nothing special, but with no work for three months and her overdraft fit to burst, the rent was draining her dry. And then the bills. And food. And... the list went on.
Money was the problem. But was this really the solution?
She'd thought about it for hours on end. At first it had been a fleeting idea, dismissed as quickly as it came. But it came back. And the more she thought about it the more credible it seemed. The less extreme, the less repulsive.
And though she wouldn't admit it to herself the idea even started to turn her on.
Sex.
Sex sells. It was the answer to all her money problems. Only a temporary one of course – it's not like she'd be a full time whore or anything, but for now it would pay the bills. It would have to or she'd be out on her ear, she already owed the landlord a months rent and he was breathing down her neck for the money.
And just a few... times? A few... night's work? And she could pay him some of it. Most of it with a bit of luck.
Would it really be that bad? She liked sex. She'd been with her share of guys. She was no blushing virgin. She could just pretend couldn't she? Just lie back and enjoy the ride so to speak...
It was only sex.
Just the use of her body for a little while. Just for fun. For them... And then she could forget about it. A few customers, decent money, rent paid, end of...
Just until something else came up...
Her mind snapped back to the job in hand. First day in a new job – what to wear? She guessed that the first impression she wanted to make wasn't going to require a suit. In fact it probably wouldn't require much clothing at all.
Short skirt? Check.
Tight low cut top? Check.
High heels? Check.
She pulled the clothes from the pile and laid them out on the bed. Standing there in just her underwear she got a brief premonition of what the night might hold. She gulped, then pulled herself together...
***
Lara left the flat an hour later, and headed nervously through town. Thank god it was quiet.
She'd tied her blonde hair up in a pony tail and really gone for the eye makeup and lipstick. Beneath her long cream coat she had on a black mini-skirt which was riding high up her thighs, and a tight blue velvet top which cut low across her breasts, accentuating her lithe figure.
As she strutted along on her high heels she breathed deeply trying to calm her heartbeat. She'd knocked back some vodka as Dutch courage and could still taste the strong spirit and feel the warmth in the back of her throat.
Lara headed for a pitch in the seediest area of town, tucked under the railway bridge. She'd seen them – prostitutes – down there before, but had never imagined she might end up in their shoes.
The first half hour was fruitless. A few cars passing by – some looked hopeful, but either the drivers got cold feet at the last minute or they were just lost and studying the streets.
It was getting cold and she was close to giving up. It was a stupid idea she thought to herself as she wrapped her coat tightly around her, ready to jack it in and head home. Suddenly she heard a quiet voice from her left.
"Lookin' for business"
