Go In, But Prepare First

Cindy has left you wanting more and Katherine has probably already assumed you're a no show. You decide that you're up for Cindy's little surprise. As you start to climb out of the car you have a sudden moment of hesitation. What if this hooker has some bruisers with knives waiting for you in the shower?

You reach back into your car, under the driver's seat, and grab your tiny holdout pistol. It's just a "ghetto five", a little high velocity flechette gun that is more likely to hurt like hell than kill anybody. Its weight is reassuring as you slide it into your jacket pocket.

The shower area is frequented by truckers although at this time of night most of them have already bedded down in their rigs. As you enter you hear a shower running and approach warily. You see a pair of boots under one of the toilet stalls and you make a mental note of it. Warm damp air is gusting from the curtained cubicles of the showers and your shoes squeak on the wet plastic tiles. You make your way slowly over to the cubicle that is occupied, your hand on the grip of the holdout pistol inside your jacket.

"Cindy?" You ask, leaning towards the curtain.

She slides it open, soapy water cascading over her enormous breasts and large aereolas, one hand grips the curtain and the other is cupped over the shaved mound of her vagina.

"Hey baby, why don't you come on in and get your surprise." She beckons you a bit too loudly.

You hear the creak of a bathroom stall opening and a tall hispanic man in a battered khaki suit and pink button up shirt steps out. He stares at you and a stab-blade pops into his palm from a hidden quick mount in his sleeve.

"You got some clean DNA baby," Cindy coos, "your organs oughta be worth a lot of green."

The hispanic man strides towards you purposefully and quickly. You might be able to get in under the blade, shove him aside, and escape or you can do some gun work and hope no one hears.