Look into the "VIP Parlour - No BJ Zone!"

All this public treatment of oral sex, nudity, and sexual **** has taken some getting used to. You look forward to acclimating yourself in general, but this particular establishment's presence in the mall is worrisome. Throatrape Emporium would be astonishing in a mall in the real world, but in BJU, it's a lot less out of place than this VIP Parlour.

The sign clearly states it: No BJ Zone. From out in the mall, you can't see much besides a reception desk inside the glass doors, as most of the lounge appears to be behind a dividing wall with magazines and screens on this side. As you watch, the glass doors open and a bombshell blonde with a tight pony tail walks in with a pacing that says she too good to rush but too important not to. She takes a few shopping bags in with her, and goes to the counter for a check-in or something. Then the doors close.

Wasting no more time to satisfy your curiosity, you walk through the glass doors as they part automatically for you and you see the customer who came in earlier has already gone into the lounge area. You are alone with a pretty woman at the counter idly pretending to idly look at the screen in front of her. She is wearing a drab grey blazer that doesn't completely hide her breasts, but does completely ruin your ability to discern anything specific about them. The next thing you notice is her plump, brightly rouged lips, puckered slightly and so inviting.

On the wall, above the pretty, official-looking woman, is another sign: "ABSOLUTELY NO BLOWJOBS". Below that it says, wifi: bju-ftw1.

You wanna slap the pretty blonde and slam your dick between her hot red lips, but you aren't sure if you're supposed to. This is confusing.

"Welcome, sir. Is this your first time visiting the mall's VIP Parlour?" She isn't really asking you. She already knows. "I'm so glad you found us," she says in a tone that clearly conveys you are the centre of her universe, but also that you have interrupted her. She explains the place to you, and you end up even more confused still.

You are trying to look at her rack as she finishes the explanation, but her damn blazer is in the way. "...and those are by reservation only but the rest is available to you immediately" she gently sweeps a hand behind her to indicate the lounge. She straightens herself in her chair, looking pleased with her little presentation.

"Okay, lady," you say, apparently lacking the skill to notice her nametag for personal reasons completely unrelated to the cut of her uniform. "You have just told me that this is a lounge specifically for women who..."

"...people..." she says, holding up a finger.

"for anyone who doesn't feel like giving or having to watch a blow job?"

"Or even for those who are taking a break from receiving them!" she says, like it's something to be excited about.

"In the BJU."

"Correct, sir."

"The Blow Job Universe."

"That's right, sir." It seems like she is struggling with this conversation, but not for the usual reasons women struggle, which are because you are filthy, reeking, and/or staring at their mouths or chests, and not for the reasons you're struggling, which are equally obvious. No, this woman looks like she is struggling to remain professional, or even struggling to not laugh. You don't know if you're being made fun of, but you do feel like you are being left out of something.

You shake your head. "Okay, well..." You are conflicted. You are more than ready to facefuck this VIP gatekeeper lady but you also want to check out the lounge itself. And apparently, it's against the rules to fuck a face here anyway.

Another sign on the wall says, "BLOWJOB CAPACITY: 0"

You stand there dumbly for a moment. Another woman in the drab uniform pokes her head out from the other side of the dividing wall and says, "Sorry to interrupt," to you, and then to the greeter lady, "Polly, sleeper four is clean and ready for its 2:30."

"Thank you, Mila."

You see Mila's smooth, tan legs under her shapeless blazer and mid-calf skirt. You see her torso made mysterious and formless by the shitty blazer, despite its plunging break line. It's infuriating, but worse, it's confusing! Mila disappears into the lounge with a friendly wink and a smile.

Polly says, "Would you like to check in, sir?"