It doesn't matter

The tall black man answers for me. "Hell yeah...," he says to the bartender, looking me up and down. "Why you think she came in here."

"I was supposed to meet someone here," I stammer.

"Yeah..." answers the bartender.

"Now you did, eh Mike?" replies the smaller of the three.

I turn around to look at the small guy but find myself face to face with the big man, Mike. His big hands grip my breasts.

"Damn... Jake, these feel good." He has a huge smile on his face.

"I bet they be implants...." replies the bartender, smiling.

"I don't know hard to tell," Mike says, rubbing your breasts through your shirt.

"Take her top off and find out," offers Tyrone, the smaller of the three.

Mike moves his hands to the buttons on my blouse and slowly undos them from top to bottom. He eases my shirt from my trembling shoulders and looks at my breasts. I'm on the verge of tears.