The bartender agrees to a final bet

“So, who plays now?” Amanda asked.

“Belgium vs Croatia,” the bartender replied.

“Easy to know Huff who to root for, huh?” Evie said, oxygen slowly returning to her brain, and with it, a new surge of embarrassment. She was still naked! That creepy dude was staring at the pink lips between her legs!

With a squeal, Evie sat cross-legged on the bar and struggled to contain her breasts with her hands. Her bum was sure to leave an imprint of the wood, but considering the state of the floor, she didn't think the bartender would care.

“Is it?” Amanda asked. “Which team?”

“Croatia,” said the bartender, winking one of her almond-colored eyes.

“Belgium,” replied Evie in between pained gasps for air.

The two women stared at each other in silence.

“Ah, merde,” Evie cursed.

“Girl, you have no taste in teams. All trash,” the bartender replied, putting her hands on her pointy hips.

“You are jealous because you know that there is no way the Croats can beat the Red Devils.”

“Ha! What? You want to bet on it again?”

“Yes, because I know that I'm going to win.” Amanda couldn't help but bury her face in her hands once more. When Evie got going, she really got going.

The bartender looked at the sweaty girl up and down. Ugh, she was leaving an imprint of her butt on her nice, clean bar. “You know what? No. This has been enough punishment for you.”

“Ah, I see. You are a wee little chicken scared of the mighty Belgian rooster. Understandable. If you can't handle the heat, best to leave the kitchen.”

“Ok, first of all, the rooster is only the symbol of Wallonia, I'm sure half of Belgium would get mad at that metaphor. Secondly, this is coming from the girl who is sweating as if she escaped an oven! Fine. If you want to become the bar's laughingstock, who am I to stop you?”

“Double or nothing then! If Belgium wins, I get free drinks for life! Aaaaaaand you also have to strip naked like I am!”

“Only strip naked? After what you just did? Seems a bit lame, doesn't it?” Amanda had a better idea. “Make her streak around the block, no wait! I think there's a college football game going on at the stadium. Make her streak across there!”

“Oh great idea Amanda, I can't wait to see her ass scurry across the stadium like a scared weasel! She's going to be soooooooooo embarrassed!”

The bartender was taken aback, speechless at the suggestion. Stripping in front of all her regulars would be bad enough. They would never let her live it down! Not to mention that her tits would be on their minds' eyes every time she so much as bent over to clean the bar or serve a drink.

But they would take it in good fun in the end. They were her boys and girls, after all.

But the stadium? That would no longer be in front of her “boys”, but the whole town! She would have to deal with snarky comments while buying groceries, people would stare at her ass in the street to try and determine if she was a crazy streaker. It was too much!

“There's no way I-“ The bar caught wind of the suggestion and began to chant for her to accept it.

“Come on!”

“Do it!”

“Yeah, think of how fun it would be to see this pipsqueak streak.”

The peer pressure was too much. The bartender mashed her teeth so hard they almost turned to dust. “Fine! You know what? Fine! You are game!”