DROP FORTY-THREE

 

 

Pickle heard something that made her curious. She crawled out of bed, Bobo was snoring loudly in Cherry’s bed, so she didn’t think she could hear her. She got dressed quickly and tip-toed to the hall.

Glancing at the living room, she saw Cherry, topless, unmistakably sitting on top of Hector’s… sword.

She shook her head and went on downstairs, sneaking all the way. It wasn’t really easy for her to be quiet, but they between whatever it was they were watching, their noises, and Bobo snoring her broken nasal diaphragm as loudly as possible, she was okay in the ‘remaining stealthy’ area.

She followed the girl out of the door. The night was stingy cool. She could handle it without a coat on, no time to go back and get it now.

Cadena crossed the street and Pickle tailed her from a safe distance. She was easy to spot, she had a retro left arm that was longer than her right and she was dressed like a slut. That last bit didn’t exactly make her stand out in this neighbourhood, but her exposed ass was unmistakable, she had a thong on that could have easily been a loose thread.

Pickle sighed and kept of following her, avoiding the passers-by. No decent citizen walked around here this late at night, and Pickle included herself in that category. Cadena finally went into a bar.

It was a titty bar, but seriously, who was Pickle to judge at this point in her life? She waited a minute and then went inside. The bouncer looked her up and down, then stopped her for a security check.

“Hey, handsy much?” she complained, but stopped herself there. She didn’t wanna lose Cadena. She had been sneaking out every chance she got, and Pickle was determined to see what was up. Oh, she had her suspicions. She could have been meeting Nicomedes. She could have been meeting someone else, reporting on her and Hector.

Pickle needed to know.

She went inside the titty bar, it was the regular dark ambiance she expected. A stripper was on the pole, and a couple of losers were swiping their paycards on her tits, paying in cryptocoins. Others were lounging around, drinking at the bar, sitting at the booths.

Honestly, this was much tamer than she expected going in. Where was the scoop?

There it was.

Pickle focused like a missile and went closer. Cadena was getting a drink from the barman, and judging by his wide smile and her leaning forward pose, she definitely hadn’t paid for it. Cadena whispered something in the barman’s ear, then she looked around.

Pickle covered her face and looked away. By the time she looked back, Cadena was gone!

Simply gone.

Damn. How could she have underestimated her like that? What was she? Trained, for sure. A spy? Corporate espionage wasn’t unheard of between the teams, there was so much money involved. Pickle knew she shouldn’t have trusted the blonde slut. Pickle walked close, anxiously looking around, to where Cadena had slipped to. This was impossible. Perhaps she had messed up, drank too much, was too damn tired to keep up with a simple damn tail.

A patron came up to her. “Hey, nice rack! Can I cum on it?”

“Ew! No.” Pickle said and pushed him away.

She went up to the bar at the same spot she last saw her. There had to be an exit somewhere. How long had she taken her eyes off of her? Twenty seconds? Perhaps even less. How many metres could she have possibly covered, and had she spotted her?

Had she been playing her all this time, acting stupid and docile?

Dammit!

Pickle gripped the side of the bar and squeezed so hard she broke a few splinters off.

Then her mind shifted gears. Wait… Why wasn’t the barman coming over from the far side of the bar? There she was, the only girl in there not sitting on someone’s lap. The barman should have definitely paid attention.

There he was, pretending to wash his cocktail shaker, while he was getting a similar service below. Cadena was under the bar and sucking him off with fervour.

Pickle let her head hang. There was nothing suspicious there, just a little slut that snuck out and met a pretty little bartender. Pickle raised her eyebrow, Cadena was definitely making him happy right now.

Didn’t matter. She needed to get rid of her. Cadena might be decent as an athlete… No, not decent, average. And that itch she said she had in the middle of the friendly match earlier on? Definitely a UTI from all the sudden sex she was having. Pickle sighed and waited for someone to get her a drink. She really needed one after all that paranoia buildup. Where was the barman? Oh, yeah, still cumming.

Cadena stood up and slipped out of the bar, going to the other side again. She wiped the side of her mouth and smiled at the barman naughtily.

Then she noticed Pickle, and her eyes went wide like saucers.

After a long minute of her standing there like a deer in the headlights, she ran close to Pickle and apologised. “I-I’m sorry, I’ve been sneaking out, skipping training, I know. But I love Victor! Really. And he loves me.”

“Yeah, I don’t care any more. I’m not gonna renew your contract,” Pickle said, now feeling very thirsty. She clicked her fingers too get the barman’s attention.

“Pickle, I’m sorry. I’ll do anything you want me to do. Do you want me to do Hector?” she pleaded. “He hasn’t touched me yet, I can just-”

“A beer, yeah, that one. Finally, thank you.” Pickle gulped down half of it, it was cool and exactly what she needed right now.

Cadena hopped on the spot as if she desperately wanted to pee. “Pickle, tell me, I’m dying here. I need this job… Please.”

Pickle turned her eyes to look at the blonde. Gods, she could barely keep them open. “That’s not the issue. Look, I have something in mind for the Pies. A… general plan, how they’ll look, how it’ll be for the girls. You’re just not a good fit. You’ll finish your contract, hopefully with a few wins under your belt, and then we both go our separate ways. You know, like professionals. Go, screw your boyfriend in the bathroom, don’t let me ruin the night for you.”

Pickle finished her beer and stood up. “Beer’s on that guy over there, he said he liked my rack and wanted to buy me one,” she said, pointing at the guy in the back.

“Okay,” the barman said, then smiled at Cadena like a teenager in love.

“Hrmpf,” Pickle scoffed at the couple and turned to leave

“Pickle! Don’t kick me out of the Pies!” Cadena shouted after her.

Pickle just left the titty bar.