Now, down at work, they have a sort of lottery type thing. You buy a ticket for a couple bucks and, if you win, they give you a night on the town with a hooker. You know the type of thing, hit a couple of strip clubs, drink some cheap champagne and get laid. You don't have to play, but guys tend to avoid you in the restrooms if you don't. At least the guys don't let you get behind them in the restroom.

You can also choose to win some cash in the lottery instead of a hooker, actually quite a bit of cash.

I win the lottery in September just after my 18th birthday. I tell the lottery guy that I'm gonna take the cash.

The guy who runs the lottery and the union rep brace me. They tell me that I gotta take the hooker. It seems like nobody takes the cash. If I take the cash, the other guys will run me right outta the shop. I gotta take the hooker. They ask me, "What's the matter with you?"

I sigh and tell 'em that there aint nothin' the matter with me. I let 'em know I'm gonna take a hooker. Not the cheap, factory-boy bitch the lottery wins me. Instead, I'll set up a weekend cabin in the mountains, with pussy. I'll use the rest of the cash to get me a real high class hooker. I add that the hooker will serve me champagne in bed after I fuck her. I'm on a roll here and I say, "It'll be real good champagne too, not the stuff in the strip clubs where you wonder what it tasted like before they removed the varnish with it." I finish by asking, "You get the picture here, guys?"

The guy who runs the lottery looks like he chewed a lemon.

The union rep laughs and tells me, "The boys in the shop are gonna get a kick out of your plan!" He grins from ear to ear and continues the analysis; more pussy and better pussy out of the same winning ticket. He wants a report from me, on Monday when I get back.

I tell 'em, "Okay, but it's gonna be so good I don't think you'll be able to stand it!"

The word about my plan gets around the shop. Hell, the guys that I work with think I'm a fucking genius.

Flush with lottery cash I make arrangements for the 'ho' and the cabin. I load my 57 Chevy up with steaks, Idaho potatoes and champagne. I also pack a shotgun. (If you wonder why the shotgun, I been to the hills before!) I have to drive a ways to get to the mountains, but it aint no problem. I got a 400 horsepower 383 cubic inch stroker motor in old paint. I also got a handling package that makes the sports car boys green with envy.

I stop at a place in a little college town, where the mountain road comes down to the interstate. I meet up with Phil The Pimp in a coffee shop. He got a college girl 'ho' named Heather. Yeah, that Heather. Turns out that the best sorority in the college where Heather goes has a sort of unusual initiation. The girl has to rent out as a 'ho' for a weekend, sos she can get a little sexual experience. (Apparently Heather's sorority don't want no lame lays in their house.)

Now, Heather don't have to fuck me. She also don't have to join the best sorority on campus. If she don't fuck me, she don't get in the sorority. In either case, I know Heather agreed to be a 'ho', at least for a weekend. I mean we're talkin' here I done seen her hole card! I play it cool and say hello to Heather like I never seen her before. I get up and Heather, with no real choice, gets up with me. I give her my hand and Heather swallows hard, takes my hand and walks out to my car with me.

Oh, Heather will pay back all of the money; she'll even let me make a little profit. Heather asks me, "Don't you see, that it can't be this way?"

I sigh and carefully explain to college Heather that the sorority that sent her on this errand will check on her. If Heather doesn't fuck, Heather doesn't get to be in the big sorority. All the other girls had to fuck to get in the club and they aint gonna let her in the club unless she does what they did. However, I tell Heather that it's up to her; she's 18-years-old and can make up her own mind. (If she don't make up her mind the right way, she has to leave and find a new college, which aint really much of a choice.) I also tell her I'm not about to tell the guys who I fucked. It just might get back to the boss man. (I mean, how dumb does the uppity cunt think I am?)

We get Heather's suitcase from ol' Phil and put it in the trunk of my car. Then Heather climbs into the passenger seat of my Chevy. I get in, fire the engine up and we head for the hills. (My '57 Chevy holds the road really well and I'm movin' along pretty good.)

Heather asks me, "Is this old thing safe?"

I laugh and tell her, "It aint old. I built it up from new parts, over the past year." I let her know, "It's like your sporty convertible, but with guts under the hood and real brakes and suspension.

We roll through the mountains. Heather tries to sell me on the idea of maybe we just spend the weekend in the cabin without fucking.

I sigh and tell the dumb bitch, "Your sorority gonna come up and check on you, that's for damn sure." I wait for the situation to sink in and then I also tell her, "When I show up at work after the kind of weekend I paid for, the guys in the shop will know if I fucked or not. If I didn't fuck, I'll be hounded out of the shop." I finish by telling Heather, "It's my job we're talking about here. It's also your college career."

Heather sighs and says, "I guess that I see what you're talking about. I sure never planned this sort of thing."

We get to the cabin. It's clean, but cold. I get the heater fired up and get ready to cook dinner. I put Heather to work washing the dishes, just in case the last people who rented the place before weren't too clean.

I cook up two rare steaks, two baked Idahos and make up two premix salads. I then pour two hefty champagnes and we sit down to eat.

Heather starts out miserable, doubtless thinking about the fact that she's gonna have to fuck me. However, the champagne helps turn her mood around a bit.

To get thing started, I have Heather tell me about her really sophisticated sorority, which I'm, of course, too dumb to really understand. (Now I don't claim to understand women. However, my mama was a stripper and a very smart lady. I watched her figure way ahead of college-educated bitches. I watched and learned, along the way. Heather aint dealin; with some dumb ass high school boy here.)

Heather lectures me that her sorority sisters are all really sophisticated ladies. It seems that her sorority sisters have to fuck, when they turn 18-years-old, so that they can be the kind of charming weekend companions that let the rich boys know that one sorority stands out. (I don't know about the sorority, but Heather's tits sure as hell stand out. As for the fucking, well, either Heather can do it, or I'm gonna have to teach her.)

We finish dinner and I put the dishes in the washer while Heather changes into 'something more comfortable.' I tell her that something more comfortable damn well better be a baby doll nightie or better. (I mean we need to really establish who's in control here, right off.)

About this time, my watch goes off. My watch isn't just a watch. It's also a burglar alarm for my car. When somebody messes with my car, the car horn doesn't beep, the watch beeps. When the watch beeps, I dial 12 gauge and go and investigate; simple.

I go out and collect the two sorority sisters, who been snooping around. I also disable their car with a little device. I tell the bitches that the device will explode if they try to start their damn car.

I march them inside, as Heather slinks down the stairs in her baby doll nightie.

I then have the two sorority bitches strip for Heather and me. They don't have to strip, but I point out that I'll call the red neck sheriff, if they don't. I let that sink in and then explain that they won't have to spend the whole night in a red neck jail; they can always call their parents. Right after the word, 'parents,' the girls strip. (They're a bit clumsy, but they got firm, young, maybe 19-year-old bodies and they get into the act, as they go. They try to talk me out of having them drop their panties, but I tell 'em, that the panties go, or they go to jail. They drop the panties.)

Both of the naked bitches are excited and they kind of huddle together and hold hands. I tell the bitches that my lady is a bit shy. I explain that she needs to get warmed up, before we have sex. I give 'em the order to lick each others snatches and tell 'em to just pretend it's a long college weekend on restriction. (Maybe I aint never been to college, but I heard what goes on there! I mean, how dumb do the uppity cunts think I am?)