If only you had more money...

The man, who had been on his way out, quickly turns on his heels and walks back into the bar, his eyes never leaving your mostly exposed derriere, his eyes agape both at your words and what you're wearing.

It's impossible to ignore the amount of attention you're getting, but you strut up to the bar, your heels clacking as you hop onto a bar stool, bending down slightly as the bartender ogles your breasts.

"House special, please." You glance around, inwardly nervous at the amount of male attention you're getting but trying as hard as you can to project an aura of confidence, making those who see you believe you're comfortable hanging out in a dirty bar showing more of your body then underwear would.

You see the man who held the door for you whispering to some other folks nearby, and you try to take stock of the bar while the bartender finally starts fixing your drink. There's a pool table nearby, being halfheartedly played by two guys now totally fixed on your every move, and a jukebox behind them. Further beyond that, in an area currently darkened (although visible to the street), you see a mechanical bull, and your legs flex involuntarily at the thought of riding it dressed as you are right now.

The barkeep slides a the drink over to you. "Seven dollars, please."

You reach for your purse, frowning in thought - you'd barely brought enough money for your laundry, and while you scramble through your purse, hoping there's a bill or two you missed, voices from all around you gallantly offer to pay (and a few bills are thrown on the bar as well), the keep waves them all off.

"Before you take advantage of their hospitality, might I make a suggestion?" He motions to a sign above. "Free drinks are given to anyone who will do body shots on my bar, or take a ride or two on the bull." The bartender leans back in thought. "Of course, if you want to let someone else pay for you, you can, as long as you don't **** their generosity." He scratches his grizzled chin in thought.

"I'll also take certain things as collateral for drinks." His eyes flutter between your chest and the skirt riding dangerously high on the stool as you respond...