A proposition.

You step quickly away from the exit of the adult triplex, the two miniskirted blondes in tow, wanting to put as much distance between yourself and the sex shop's paunchy manager as possible.

It is mere hours until dawn shines upon the seedy downtown district. The black of night is already giving way to a deep blue hue above the tenement buildings to the east. You and Kelly really need to be getting back home. It seems like days since you set out on your little date, so much has happened in the past few hours. You look down the now quieting streets, hoping to hail a cab before the porn emporium's proprietor comes bursting out the doors looking for the three of you.

It is then you realize you spent all of your pooled resources to clothe your once-naked date. Your pockets are empty of any monies for the cab ride home.

You turn to Kelly, looking sexy as hell in the lurid red light cast from the neon in the window of one of the nearby pubs. Despite your predicament, you can't help but notice the red glinting in the skimpy silver minidress she now wears.

"What's the matter?" your childhood friend asks, seeing the odd look on your face.

Returning your gaze to her questioning countenance, you relate the circumstance you've found yourselves in.

You see Kelly look up and down the street, the traffic lights and overhead lamps now reflected in the wet surface of the asphalt. A street-cleaning truck is disappearing into the distance, it's spray not able to completely cleanse this part of the metropolis.

The pretty blonde's eyes are welling with tears as she turns back to you.

"It's all my fault!" she gasps, her voice cracking as a lone tear breaks through the dam of her thick eyelashes.

"No! No, it isn't hon!" you insist, hugging her with one arm around both of her bare shoulders. "If anyone's at fault, it's me, for taking you in there."

Kelli the (former?) peepshow stripper has just said her goodbyes and is ready to head for her car when she hears you tell Kelly your plight.

"Hold on, guys!" she says as she takes the small handbag with the skimpy shoulderstrap off her arm and begins to rifle through it. "I still may have some tips from the previous shift stuck in here I might have forgot about!"

You both look to the tall blonde, still dressed in Kelly's discarded wardrobe, hoping against hope that she is right.

"Hold on a sec! Let me move under the lamp, where the light is better!" Kelli tells the two of you, offering a reassuring smile as she takes the few steps to the street corner.

You now face your troubled friend, continuing to try to allay her fears by rubbing the ends of her fingertips between your own.

Looking deeply into the sweet blonde's eyes, you don't even notice the large late model Cadillac slowly splash through the puddle at the gutter feet from you and come to a slow stop.

It's the slow electronic whir of the burgandy vehicle's passenger side window as it recedes into the heavy door of the luxury sedan that finally gets your attention.

Both you and Kelly look to the open window, surprised at the intrusion.

You are able to discern, in the low light, a small man looking to be in his sixties leaning over to call out the window. You wonder how the diminuitive white-haired fellow can even see over the wheel of the large Caddy.

"Hey! Hey sweetie!" the old man rasps, looking only at Kelly. "Whatever he's offering, I'll double it if you wrap those sweet lips around this thing!" He has his cock in hand, pulled from his slacks.

Kelly just stares at the withered old man inside the luxury vehicle in astonishment, her look of concern being replaced with a giggle of bemusement as she looks back at you with the realization that the old goat has taken her to be a pro.

'Small wonder,' you think to yourself, as you survey the area again. The seedy club area is obviously a well-known 'red light district.' You see a few skimpily dressed women loitering about on street corners in the distance. Surely, none are in the same category of looks as your friend, and the old man knows it. Then, there is her attire for the evening. The pretty blonde is showing more than she is concealing in her gaudy silver micromini.

You can't believe it when you see your friend take a step toward the Cadillac. You see her eyes are on the roll of bills in his upheld fist.

"Kelly! You can't do this!" you tell her, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her close, nearly nose to nose. "He might be a cop, or have some disease!"

"Hey! Look for another piece, sonny!" you hear the man tell you, peeved by your interruption, but unable to hear your concerns.

"Listen, do you want to get home tonight?" she challenges you. "Kelli doesn't seem to have any luck!" she says, gesturing to the blonde still struggling to search through the mess in her small purse. "You really think this old fart is a cop? As for the rest, don't worry, I can handle myself!" Kelly tries to smile reassuringly, before she turns back to the impatiently waiting senior citizen in the Caddy.

You gently grasp her forearm again as you see the old man smile in her direction.

"Please, Kelly! Please don't do this!"