Free The Bathroom by RoxAnne Fox

 
    Zoe was sitting at the counter of her favorite eatery; The
Dream Machine. It was a kitschy place done up like an old-fashioned soda shop. While
hovering over the remains of her strawberry soda she stared at her new favorite
person; drop dead gorgeous Alan. He had started working at the place a few
weeks before and Zoe couldn’t get enough of his six-two, dark haired, sexy
self.
    The man in question walked over to the ice cream freezer and
with his left hand he grabbed a handful of vanilla ice cream. Zoe stared as he
slowly turned around undoing the buttons of his white collared shirt with the
other hand. Once his cut chest was exposed he began rubbing the ice cream all
over it swirling the melted desert around his hardening nipples. He grabbed a
can of whipped cream, shook it, then popped the top off before spraying small
mounds over the small nubs. Zoe gulped and looked down to see him shove the remainder
of the ice cream down his pants. The melted remains oozing
around the zipper.
    Swallowing hard her eyes didn’t leave the show as he walked
towards her dropping the can of whipped cream. Leaning over the counter he
said, “Excuse me; can I take your empty?”
    Zoe snapped back to reality to see Alan standing, fully
clothed, in front of her; a smile lighting his cobalt eyes. “Oh, no…I mean yeah,
I’m finished thanks.” She stammered. Her cheeks flared as the arousing day
dream flashed through her mind again. Her eyes shifted to her bag as she
started shoving papers and her binder inside of it from the counter where she
had been writing a short story for school.
    God, I need to get
laid , she thought.
    “You ok?” Alan asked.
    She looked up to see his smile had changed to a look of
bewilderment as he stood, still holding her empty glass.
    “Yeah, I’m fine, see ya latter,” she said as she jumped down
off her stool tossing enough money on the counter leaving more than a couple
bucks for a tip. “Thanks, keep the change.” She waved back to Alan’s prone form
as she walked out the door.
    “See ya,” Alan said, barely audible as she cut around the
corner and out the door.

 
    Zoe walked down the side walk humming to herself as she swung her military surplus bag back and forth. She was wearing her
favorite outfit, a white mini tank with “I love Heroine” in silver sparkly
writing, cut-off cami jeans, and plum Doc Martins. She wasn’t a drop dead gorgeous
girl, but she was by no means ugly. Zoe had brunette hair that fell just below the
shoulder, hazel eyes, was 5’7”, a size nine, and sported a healthy D cup…much
to her dismay. She always thought anyone who was blessed with breasts hated
them, and visa -versa.
    Walking home she passed by the usual scenes: a bum passed
out in a doorway wearing a “Jesus saves” shirt, two guys having sex in an ally,
a couple of lesbians apparently fighting over the custody of a cat, and an
endless array of   college kids like
herself. She decided to finish her writing project at home without the
distraction of a particular sexy ice-cream slinging soda jerk before going out
tonight. Her and her friend Bean had decided earlier in the week to go to a new
club called The Fetish Front. Zoe thought it would be neat to go to a freaky club
where people who were into stuff like BDSM would be; she had never been to one
before and it did pose to give interesting material for future writings.
    By 8:00 PM Zoe had finished her project and started getting
ready. She went out earlier in the week and bought some clothes especially for the
night. It was a slutty version of a catholic school uniform: short plaid,
pleated, skirt, white shirt, white knee-high stockings, and Mary- Janeish looking high heels. Bean arrived at her place sometime
later dressed to the nines. She had on a full latex suit; it completely covered
her from neck to wrist to ankle. Zoe assumed it went to the ankle it was kind
of hard to tell because her friend was also wearing matching thigh high
stiletto