Google Fiction! Searches Incorporated Into Brief And Awesome Tales!:Francine pushed open the door to the gym purposefully, her gym bag in tow. It was five-thirty on Monday; if a large crowd was what she wanted, she'd never get a bigger one than right now. For weeks Francine had been coming in here, peddling her ass off, doing her stupid bicep curls... all for
shit. Francine could give a fuck about her physical well-being; she was in this for one thing and one thing only-- the men. Cheaper than a dating service and a good way to check out the merchandise. A seven year contract? Sign her up! But so far... nothing. In her Hanes sweatpants and tent-like tee shirt, Francine blended into the background. What she needed was some PUNCH. Some FLAIR. Something that screamed out "I'M HERE, BOYS, AND I THINK YOU SHOULD TAKE ME HOME WITH YOU BECAUSE I'M SICK AS HELL OF RIDING THIS FUCKING BIKE." So on that Monday evening when she strode into the gym, every pair of eyes stopped watching the news and the game and the Seinfeld and stared open-mouthed at Francine in her shiny new
erotic sports bra. Francine smiled. It might have been the patent leather. It might have been the blinking lights. Hell, it
might have been the exposed nipples. Whatever. Francine had a hunch she wouldn't have to pedal very far tonight.
