Chapter 283: Rosie Robinson, 27, flapper girl...

Sara Dumas loved her new look. Wendy had given her a pixie cut, snipping almost 12-inches of her black hair off. Sara’s face was still a little chubby, but she looked, and felt, years younger. Even Charlie noticed the new do, “You look nice, Mama.”

“Why thank you.”

She fixed her kids a nice breakfast. She was still wearing a robe. Ray-Ray and Darlene were coming by for that video shoot. Before Charlie and his little sisters left for school, Sara made a production of placing the Do Not Disturb sign that Darlene had given her on Charlie’s bedroom doorknob.

She tole the girls, “When that sign is there, that means, he gets privacy — total privacy.”

The older girl, Bess, whispered into Carol’s ear. Carol nodded knowingly and both giggled. Charlie liked the idea. Liked that his mother was, sort of, openly encouraging him to jack-off.

One morning in the Miss-Kitty dressing room, Darlene walked up to Rosie. “Strip, honey — new costume.”

“Oh sure.”

Being naked in front of the other girls no longer felt strange. If she had thought about it, which she no longer did, she would have described it as natural. Like a football team showering after a game. Darlene kept her girls soap-and-water clean, so they all showered before and after work. And on breaks too.

“Put on your heels, honey.”

“Sure.” Rosie studied herself in the mirror with approval. The heels tautened up her thighs and shapely butt. Four dancers moved in closer to watch.

Darlene smiled, “You’re my crash-test dummy this morning. I’m thinking about putting all my waitresses in this version.”

“Sure!”

Darlene attached two quarter-sized stars, pink, over Rosie’s nipples. Darlene fluffed them up, and it looked like Rosie was topless.

“I like it!”

She wiggled back and forth and sent her orange-sized boobs jiggling, “I feel so free.”

“The best is yet to come.”

Darlene smiled and held up a piece of matching pink fabric. It was about an inch wide, and maybe double that in length. She said, “Spirit gum,” and smoothed it on — securing the top fraction-of-an-inch just barely above Rosie’s pussy lips.

Rosie laughed delightedly. The dancers burst into spontaneous applause.

Sally Romano reached under the flap and ran a finger up and down Rosie’s pussy. “I love it — it’s like the front door to your house.”

Minnie Rollins lifted the flap, let it fall, lifted it again. She, too, caressed Rosie, “The front door, and it’s open house at Rosie’s pussy.”

Rosie was transfixed as she stared into the mirror. She had come to enjoy wearing a thong. But that now seemed almost demure. A thong not only covered her, but it was sort of like a layer of privacy-protection.

This — this tiny airy flap — well it did cover her pussy. Visually. But it was almost like an invitation. Come on in. Help yourself. Feel free.

And, it took Rosie a few moments to sort out her feelings — there was a delicious sense of freedom. No waistband. No bra strap in back. Just three minuscule pieces of cloth — and the main one just hung free.

The other two dancers couldn’t resist either — one reached under the flap. The other lifted it to cop a feel.

Rosie shook her head in wonderment, “It’’s obscene. God, I love it!”

Sally Romano was staring, she spoke mostly to herself, “I’d fuck her.”

Minnie Rollins tilted her head and nodded in agreement, “Me too.”

Rosie beamed.