The Game

“Welcome to Long Beach Hooters. How many in your party?” I say as five guys walk in. They are good-looking men…until they open their mouths.

“Are you going to be our waitress?” one asks.

“No, not today. I’m working the hostess stand. I’m going to sit you with Krissy,” I say as I walk in front of them to their table. I can hear them talking about me.

“Did you see the tits on her? Damn, I would love to motorboat those puppies,” one says.

“Hell, that ass is to die for,” another says as I show them where they’re sitting. Then I feel a light pat on my ass as they take a seat.

I shoot them a look as I give them a fake smile. All five guys lift their hands like none of them did it. I walk away shaking my head.

“God, I really hate this town.” I walk up to Krissy. “I’m sorry, love, you got five Neanderthals at table 12. They already talked about my tits,” I say as I hold them in my hands, “and one of them smacked my ass.”

“That’s okay, baby, I know black belt. So let them touch these cans and someone is leaving with a black eye and a double-charged bill,” Krissy says, laughing.

“I love my job here. The money is great, and the people are awesome. I work the best shifts here, but the men in this town suck ass. Just because you live in California doesn’t give you the right to be a pig.”

I grab a cup and fill it with ice water with a straw. “My father keeps asking when I’m going to settle down and maybe have kids. The way it looks, I’m never going to find anybody in this beach town.

“Some days I wish I had money to just travel. I don’t need a man for that. I just want to travel and see the sights. I’m a 26-year-old with a nice rack who doesn’t want to die at a job like this.”

“I saw something you might be interested in. Let me go and take care of these assholes and I’ll come back to you,” Krissy says.

About an hour later, Krissy comes to the front and hands me a piece of paper.

“What’s this?”

“When you get home. I want you to check out this website,” she tells me.

“What’s the website?” I say with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m not going to say what it is. It’s something I can’t do because I’m married,” Krissy says with a big smile.

I open the piece of paper and see a website that says, ‘For Love or Money.’

Later, Krissy asks me to work another shift because a couple of the girls couldn’t make it in. She says I can have tomorrow off if I stay. So I do.

The next morning I wake up and see the sun shining in my windows. I get out of bed and decide to go for a run.

I throw off my oversized tank top and try to stuff my double-D tits in a running bra. Sometimes I wear two bras when I run because I don’t need to show all the men on the beach my bouncing boobies.

My apartment sits close to the beach with a small balcony. Depending on the day and where the sun is, I can lie halfway out on the balcony naked and get some sun with no tan lines.

I find a pair of yoga pants and jump into them. Then I find my shoes and put them on. I grab a bottled water and slam it down before I start my run.

I walk out of my apartment and jog across the street to the beach, called Belmont Shore. I usually run south to the end of the inlet, which is about two miles, then run back for a total of a four-mile run.

Sometimes I’ll watch the cruise liners come and go on the weekends. Today, though, there is nothing going on. I start my way back when I see a bunch of guys playing volleyball on the beach.

“Hey, baby! I’m a producer. I want to make a movie with you. It starts in my bedroom and ends on your face,” he says as all the guys high five each other.

I turn around and jog backward as I say, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to be in a movie that only lasts thirty seconds.” I turn around and all I can hear is, “She burned you!”

I usually don’t respond to stupid shit like that. But today I’m feeling good and that puts a smile on my face.

I make it back to my apartment and go right into my bathroom and take a quick shower. I take off both my sports bras and my boobs slap my chest as they fall out.

I take my hands and wipe the sweat from under them. I turn the water on and jump in before I let the water get to the right temperature.

After a couple of minutes, I jump out and dry off. I wrap the towel around myself and walk out. The sun is shining through the balcony doors, so I decide to get some sun today.

I grab my beach chair and open it up, then place it just inside the door. I also grab my computer and lay it down at the top of the chair, then throw off my towel. I lie on my stomach so the sun can kiss my ass.

After a few minutes of going over other emails, I decide to look into the website that Krissy gave me. I type in ‘For Love or Money’ and to my surprise, it’s a dating website. It’s a brand-new dating website.

They want to see if they can put couples together who’ve never met and see if they can work as a team. The challenges won’t be easy, but they hope the couples will work together and finish each challenge.

I can choose not to play and see if I’m compatible with someone in my area or I can play The Game and win some money.

“What the hell,” I say out loud, and pull up The Game application.

The app is a standard application. Name, age, date of birth, color of eyes, height, and weight. Then it asks what I want in a man. So I write down everything I want.

I don’t think they will ever find me a man with all those qualities that would be a perfect fit for me, but I’m going to give it a try.

Halfway through the application process, I feel the back of my legs and ass getting hot. Then I realize I forgot to put lotion on my ass before I started. I flip over, place the computer on my lap, and finish.

I get to the end of the application and all that’s left are pictures. Head shot, dress shot, and a bathing suit shot. Before I have time to think about it, I already have a suit in mind.

I go in the bathroom and sit at my makeup table. I start to brush my hair, find a nice hair tie, and put it in a ponytail.

I pay close attention to my eyes, with a little more eye shadow than I normally use. I want them to pop when I take the picture.

I don’t wear a lot of makeup normally, so I’m not going to change anything about myself. I just want to be me. I want them to see the real me.

Once I finish my makeup, I find a nice evening dress. Something I haven’t worn in a while. I think the last time I wore a dress was at Krissy’s wedding a couple of years ago. I slip it on.

“Damn!” I say as I look in the mirror. I think my boobs got a little bigger since the last time I wore this dress, because it fits me better.

It’s a black dress that’s ankle-length—open in the back, with a nice V in the front.

I double check myself in the mirror before I set up my phone to take pictures, then I grab my bathing suit and lay it on the bed.

I finish all three shots and upload them to the site. I double check to make sure everything on the application is correct before I hit send.

“Oh my god! I can’t believe I just did that,” I say out loud as I close my laptop.

I lay it down and move my chair closer to the balcony doors to get more sun. I close my eyes and enjoy the warmth on my body.