“Yeah,” I say, smiling through the lie. “They moved me into one of the stocking positions in the back, so it’s nice and quiet and I don’t have to deal with anyone anymore.”
I quit after my first shift at Phantoms. And for the last two weeks, I’ve been lying to everyone I know about what I do for a living.
Even Kita. Kind of. I just haven’t correcte her assumptions.
“Well, have fun!” Agan turns down a branching corridor and I pause, watching him go for a moment.
The station lights turn his semi-translucent skin a dozen colors and for a moment, I wonder what it would be like to go with him.
He’s probably headed home, or to a bar to watch the yerocha match… What would it be like to go with him?
Annika and Agan sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N?—
Nope!
I would never do that to Kita. Ever
I’m just horny.
That’s a good thing. I need to get to work.
I walk right past the Duty Free and into a door labeled “Employees Only.”
It leads into the back of a bar I’ve only set foot in once—for my interview—but there’s a secret entrance to Phantoms here. There are probably dozens throughout the station.
I slip through it with a nod to the alien woman cleaning cups at the dishwashing station.
Down two flights of metal stairs, and across a catwalk that takes me through enormous mechanical contraptions I don’t have a clue the function of, and then to a grumpy-looking security guard at a door that looks like a vault. He punches in the code on the pad beside the door and lets me through, into the cool dark delight of Phantom’s.
The back halls of the alien sex club are quiet, clean, and easy to navigate. And when I “clock in”, the music overhead shifts to my favorite song and a door opens to a private locker room.
I toss my coffee cup in the recycler as the automated system spits out a fresh package with a perfectly sized booth uniform.
I wiggle out of my clothes and take a second to look at myself in the mirror.
The clients won’t see me today, but damn… I look good.
Smoothing my hands over my breasts, my hips, and up across my belly, I can’t help but smile.
Whoever I pick today is one lucky alien.
Agan could be one lucky alien.
“No.” I meet my eyes in the mirror as I sweep my cherry red hair up into a loose bun on top of my head. “Behave.”
Slipping my uniform on—still scolding myself—the terry cloth shorts barely contain my ass and the cute crop top barely covers the bottom of my breasts.
Perfect.
“I’m ready,” I say, and the door to the waiting room opens, there are only a few women sitting in the plush, living room-like space.
One of them waves at me and I try desperately to remember her name, but I’m saved by a woman whose stage name Idoremember.
“Oh, Cherry! Good!” Olive hurries over to me, hooking her arm in mine and pulling me through to the opposite wall. “I’m glad you made it.”
“Am I late?” I thought I was early.
“No, not at all! But we had two ladies need to drop out for… reasons, so you got bumped up a little in the schedule.” She taps some symbols on the wall and looks back at me with a smile and a breath that moves her whole body. “It’s my first time playing house mom and I just want to make sure everything runs smoothly for everyone.”
