"Well thanks, but I highly doubt I'd make any kind of money being a stripper." She shrugged again, tilting her head a bit and this time looking me up ...nd down once again. "Are you k**ding?" I blurted out "Body like yours you'd probably make a killing. Hell, I'd come and see ya." I joked. She laughed again, leaning against a rack and crossing her arms below her chest, making them perk up a bit more. "Oh really now? Well if I ever decide to switch careers I'll be sure to let you know." She. Doesn’t say much. Keeps to herself. She probably stands around five seven. The perfect body. Skin the color of porcelain. Long flowing red hair down past her shoulders. Eyes like green emeralds. Lips the color of rubies. From what I can tell breast like teardrops. She always wore the tightest clothes. As if they were a second skin. Tonight she was wearing a lovely red tank top showing ample amount of cleavage. I walked over to the bar. I sat down on an old wooden bar stool. She looked toward me. More

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