THE TANNING BOOTH
Posted by Barbanne on December 05, 2006 at 21:25:56:
What makes a bad story?
This one is bad because it's about BAD people.
THE TANNING BOOTH
Sherri emerged from the changing cubicle looking pretty much like a dream.
Well she would, wouldn't she.
I mean Joolz and I had spent the last couple of hours giving her the full beauty treatment working on her bod carefully removing any excess hair, including shaving her pubes smooth as a billiard ball and rinse colouring her long brown hair making sure those pesky little grey strands were well hidden before giving her the full facial thing.
All that remained was the spray tan so she'd look like a real California beach babe.
I grinned at her.
Sherri was no teenager and she was not all that tall. In her early thrities she had reached that maturity that makes a girl into a capital W woman. She was mature. She was voluptuous. Breasts rounded and full, just a hint of tummy, thighs for a man to lose himself in. Curvaceous, that's what Sherri was, curvaceous and voluptuous. A solid gold babe.
"Just sort of stand there and rotate when I tell you to," said Joolz who was handling the spray gun.
Sherri smiled and said, "Like this okay," and pirouetted coquettishly.
"That's perfect," I said.
Joolz started the gun and a fine spray of coconut oils and stuff misted out.
Sherri smiled contentedly as the oil coated her naked body.
Joolz twirled her finger and Sherri turned slowly. The oil covered her skin. Her butt was something to behold, fantastic globes of female flesh.
Joolz indicated that Sherri should face forward again and looked over at me.
"What do you think Barb, is she gorgeous or is she gorgeous?"
"Maxi gorgeous," I said.
Joolz pressed the second little trigger, the hidden one, and the spray gun sort of bucked and coughed and the little slug slammed into Sherri's chest finding her heart and killing her instantly. She fell backward whumping wetly onto the tiled floor.
Her eyes and mouth were both wide open, sort of expressing surprise, I suppose dying like that would be somewhat of a shock.
Joolz and I took an arm each and dragged her out through the plastic strips all oily and slippery and shiny and warm.
"He'll like this one," said Joolz.
"Yeah he likes them still warm," I said, "says the perfect woman is one who's dead but still warm."
I did a massive eye roll and Joolz gave a huge exaggerated sigh.