I know I smell, I can smell myself, and the men I stand alongside as I serve them, can smell my wet cunt, as their noses are level with my cunt, inche... from my sex lips, my skirt and knickers a mere fabric, which are porous and thin, and as I look down at them with a sweet smile, both on my face and lips, I feel nothing but the distaste and vile for that man closest to me, and my eyes narrow as I see him drink in my intoxicating come fuck me smell.I have checked in, and now I cannot sleep. I. Right, Debby?Debby: (Pouting) Yeah!Bill: Let me guess, he’s hung like a horse, right.Bob: You really are a nitwit. You can’t say that on the radio.Bill: Hey! They didn’t beep me! Salesmen are weasels. And saleswomen are weaselettes. Probably dress like you, Debby, in order to make the sale. (I wish!)Bill: Bob, be polite to the naked lady. You have to be subtle. Like, Debby, when you and what’s his name... Debby: Dave. (My middle name)Bob: When you and Dave are playing hide the salami, are we. More

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