As she reached her house, she saw that her mother’s car was gone – it didn’t matter where; gone was good. Maybe she was working, maybe not. She got out her key, opened the front door, went inside and took off her coat, heading over to hang it in the back closet. When she passed the kitchen table, she saw a note laying there: "Back in an hour. Dayna called. – Mom."

God, she missed Dayna! She’d had more fun the last four months than she’d ever had in her life, mostly because of her roomie’s spark-plugging everything. Even just talking to her would lift her out of her dumps. She didn’t have Dayna’s home number in memory, but a quick look in her wallet found it. In only a minute, she was in the living room, with her friend. "Hi, Dayna," she said at the sound of her voice. "What’s up?"

"Sandy, are you as bored as I am?" Dayna asked.

"Nobody could be as bored as I am," Sandy replied. "There’s nothing to do but listen to my mother bitch about how I should get a job for the next two or three weeks. All the pre-Christmas jobs are shot in the ass, I can’t get to any of them without a car, and I’d make next to nothing. Hell, I made more money with you in an hour this fall than I could make all break. But no, she sees me sitting around and figures I’ve got nothing better to do."

"It’s not quite that bad here," Dayna agreed. "But damn, I’d forgotten how boring Bradford can be."

"Yeah, it’s going to be a long damn three weeks."

"Maybe not," Dayna said. "I came up with an idea this morning. What do you say I pick you up the day after tomorrow and we head for Florida?"

"It sounds like a wonderful idea," Sandy said. "Except that my mother would shit a brick."

"Tell her I lined up some cash gigs, and you can make more than you could in some junk job."

"Did you find something?"

"No, of course not, I just now thought this up. Look, what I’m really thinking is that it’s a perfect chance to blow into an area cold and see what kind of pitches we can find and what kind of hats we can get. At the worst, if we watch our money we might blow five hundred, but it gets us out of here on a road trip so we don’t get bored. On the other hand, we might hit some good hats and make some real money."

"There is that," Sandy agreed. "I brought the twelve-string home with me, but the costumes are still in our dorm room, and we can’t get in there."

"Not a problem," Dayna said. "I don’t even know if there are any renfaires going on down there right now. If there are and we decide we want to do it, there ought to be costume rentals. But I want to see how well we can do not working a renfaire. And hell, we might get a little action, too. I still haven’t had a decent fuck in months."

"You’re talking tricks?" Sandy smiled. Although they’d only done it once each, by any reckoning she’d gotten the better deal; rather than the half-hard frat boy with money who Dayna had done, she’d gotten a guy who had no particular looks and bad breath but a very hard and long-lasting dick. It had been the best time she’d ever had in bed with a guy, and Dayna had been a little jealous of her, for once.

"I’m talking let’s see what happens," Dayna grinned. "Stay loose and see what comes along. I need some action and I don’t think you’d mind some, either."

"You’ve talked me into it," Sandy said. "The only thing is that I’m going to have to tell my mother about it, and she’s going to have a shit fit if we’re running around loose down there."

"Tell her I’ve got a grand-uncle we’re going to stay with at least some of the time," Dayna replied. "I do, and we might even stop by there. Tell you what, let’s shoot for me meeting you at nine in the morning the day after tomorrow? We can drive all night, change off, and save a night in a motel, or something."

"Don’t you have the camping gear in the back of the car, still?" Sandy asked. "We could do that if we needed to and had to save a buck."

"If we can find a cheap place to camp," Dayna said. "That’s something else we need to take a look at, seeing how hard it’s going to be to find cheap places to stay. Having to blow fifty or eighty bucks a night on a motel room or even twenty on a campsite is going to cut into the hats real quick. But, yeah, we need to have the option open. And there’s always my grand-uncle if we get into a pinch."

"Like I said, Dayna, works for me. Christ, I’d pay to get out of here right now. I wish we could leave tonight, but I guess we have to do the Christmas thing."

"Then spend your spare time getting stuff ready to go back to school," Dayna suggested. "If things go good, we might just cut it as tight as we can, stop off and change stuff in the car so we’re not faced with too many awkward questions."

"Sounds like a plan," Sandy smiled. "See you in a couple days."

*   *   *

"God, I’m glad that’s over with," Sandy said as Dayna drove the light brown Chevette up the street from her home. "That wasn’t real pretty."

"She seemed pleasant enough to me. Unless she was just being nice to a guest."

"She was. Look, if we’re going to get away with doing this all summer, this trip is going to have to be a big success. At least, I’m going to have to tell her it was a big success, and a stack of cash money to show her would help."

"We can do that," Dayna nodded. "Look, while I want to mess around and have some fun both on this trip and next summer, I don’t think either one of us is going to be happy just playing two days a week. We’re going to have to find some pitches on off days and play some, even if we don’t make a lot of money."

"Well, I hope it is a success," Sandy sighed. "And I hope we can make it a success without having to peddle our asses all over the state."

"I think we can manage that," Dayna said. "At least we’re going to find out. Look, I’ve thought about this a little. While I do want to get laid and wouldn’t mind doing a trick or two, I don’t want to do it often enough that I get to thinking of myself as a hooker who busks on the side. I want to think of myself as a busker who happens to turn a trick when she’s horny and then only if the price is right."

"I’m absolutely amazed that I’ve come around to about that position," Sandy nodded. "I mean, I don’t think doing one trick makes me a hooker for life, but I’d really rather not think of myself primarily as a hooker, either. But looking past that, we’re going to have to be a little careful with each other. I mean, we don’t need to be taking guys away from each other."

"Right," Dayna said. "Especially if one of us has a paying party set up, and the other one offers him a freebie. Is that what you’re thinking?"

"Yeah, part of it," Sandy said. "More than that, I don’t think we want to get in the habit of going out looking for pay parties. I mean, if the opportunity comes to us, fine, but I don’t think I’ve got the legs for high heels and fishnet stockings out on some street."

"Me either," Dayna said. "In fact, for now I’m tempted to say that I’m pretty much going to do it like I did with that guy at the frat house. In other words, if he hits on me and I’m not particularly interested, I’ll raise the subject of money."

"And enough to make it worthwhile if he meets your price like that frat rat did," Sandy agreed. "All right, I can go along with that. You realize, don’t you, that it represents a hell of a revision in my thinking?"

"I’ve been thinking it through, too," Dayna said. "Look, I figure on being a little easy on this trip, for pay or not. I don’t really want an easy reputation around renfaires or around campus, but not many people are going to know us where we’re going, if we run into anyone at all."

"I wouldn’t mind a little partying with the right guy myself," Sandy grinned. "Dayna, do you realize how much you’ve changed my thinking in the last few months? I mean, there’s not much of anything that we’re planning on doing on this trip that I would ever have dreamed of doing four months ago."

"Getting addicted, huh?" Dayna laughed. "Tim warned you about that."

"Like you said, it beats working."

*   *   *

It was a long drive to Florida, and driving straight through the night just made it longer. Dayna’s Chevette was an old one, and it had seen better days, although it was still pretty sound. One of the things that didn’t work too well was the FM band on the radio, and once they were past Toledo about all they could get was AM with commercials and country-western, more the former than the latter.

Normally that would have been a problem, but not with these two. They’d discovered long before that if they scrunched the driver’s seat forward to where she just about had room to get the steering wheel past her boobs, and slid the passenger seat back, there was plenty of room for the person riding shotgun to play a guitar. Some of their most productive rehearsing and songwriting was done in the Chevette. They also worked out comedy routines and show fillers – many of which wouldn’t ever get used because they were too dirty, but they got some laughs out of them, anyway, and it made the miles go quicker.

But the driver could only take sitting all scrunched up by the wheel for so long, so after a bit they’d slide the driver’s seat back and just talk. For two girls who had been total strangers a few months before, they were now far and away the best friends each of them had ever had, even lovers on one memorable afternoon, and both agreed that might happen again sometime if they happened to be interested. They saw a lot of things alike, or pretty closely. Dayna tended to be the leader, mostly because she was the more brassy of the two, but Sandy was coming along in that department. Sandy still wasn’t a great singer and only joined in on choruses on some songs, plus did lead on some of the really screechy country-western, but she was much the better musician, and Dayna had considerably improved her skills from playing with her. Under Charlene’s urging the year before, Dayna had gotten beyond the teenage-slob stage. She now tried to dress sharply, if a little hot when out in public on business, and over the last four months, Sandy had made many of the same changes. Sandy wasn’t the striking beauty that Dayna had become, but she wasn’t bad looking and had some attractive features of her own.

A year before, Sandy had had a weight problem. While not terribly overweight, she was obviously heavier than she should have been. A lot of it had been cleared up with the lousy food at Cedar Point, but the first weekend that the two had played the Michigan Renaissance Faire, she’d discovered that she didn’t feel like eating much if she was wearing her corset tight-laced – which led her to wear a tight corset under her clothes much of the time. While it was stiff and could be uncomfortable, she grew used to being corseted, and didn’t eat as much as a result. With that incentive, she’d lost another fifteen pounds without even thinking the word "diet," and while she’d never have Dayna’s willowy sexiness, she really wasn’t complaining.

The one-piece swimsuit she’d had at Cedar Point over the summer – and had rarely worn – wasn’t a very good fit anymore, and she didn’t even bother to pack it for this trip, knowing that Dayna would want to keep stuff to a minimum. So, the first order of business after reaching the Atlantic beaches south of Daytona was to buy something a little sexier. With Dayna involved, it turned out to be a lot sexier, of course – a really tiny string bikini with some lurid print flowers on what there was of it, which wasn’t much. The price was steeper than she liked, and she’d never have even thought of wearing something like it at Cedar Point – but this wasn’t Cedar Point, and she had a better body now, as well as a much different attitude about showing it off. Dayna thought it looked so good that she bought one at least as daring in a different print.

"You know," Sandy said as they walked out of the store, "I really want to get to busking, but you know what I’d really like to do? Just lie on the beach for a while and bake some of the Michigan winter out of me for a bit."

"We could do that," Dayna laughed. "You want to show off that hot body and see how many guys you can draw?"

"Yeah, that too," Sandy grinned. "I mean, this is supposed to be a vacation, too. What do you say we find a good beachfront motel and blow some of our savings? I mean, spend the afternoon on the beach, get ourselves wound down, and then think about finding a pitch."

"I’ve got some ideas," Dayna smiled. "But that sounds like a winner to me."

They found a large beachfront motel not long afterward, big enough to have a restaurant and bar. The place seemed fairly busy, and it wasn’t cheap. Even though they just got one room for just one night, it would put a big hole in their planned budget.

It was still midmorning when they headed out onto the beach carrying towels, wearing sunglasses and their new string bikinis; Dayna carried a small plastic bag with sunscreen. The beach was fairly busy, but they found a spot close to a place where someone must have been doing some beach engineering; there was a large hole, and a plastic sand bucket was half buried in the sand. They spread out their towels, lathered on the sunscreen, and spread out to bake in the sun. "Life is good," Dayna sighed after a while.

"Yeah," Sandy agreed. "But now that we’re here, it seems just a little dull. I’m having second thoughts about blowing as much money as we did."

"Oh, it’s not like we’re blowing it," Dayna smiled. "The point of making money is to be able to spend it to have fun, after all."

"True," Sandy sighed. "But I guess my idea of fun isn’t as lazy as it was a few months ago." She rolled over and looked around. "What do you suppose that hole is all about?"

Dayna shrugged. "Probably someone got buried in the sand. Maybe yesterday, at a guess."

"You know, I always liked playing in the sand," Sandy grinned. "I never got to do it very much. I wonder what it would be like to be buried in the sand like that."

"Easy enough to find out," Dayna said, rolling to get up. "I always liked playing in the sand, too. What say we dig it out a little so we can get you really buried?"

"OK," Sandy grinned. "It’ll be like being a kid again."

With hands and the bucket, they deepened the hole quite a bit, taking five minutes to do it. Giggling a little, Sandy slid her butt down to the bottom of the hole, with her neck and feet still above the surface. She put her arms down at her sides, and giggled as Dayna pushed sand in on top of her. It took a while, and Dayna was having fun with it. Soon, only Sandy’s head and feet were sticking above the sand, while Dayna smoothed off the surface.

"This is kind of fun," Sandy smiled. "Except that I can’t move a muscle. I couldn’t get out if I tried."

"You were the one who wanted the relaxation," Dayna grinned. "How about if I leave you here to get some rest? I could go over to that cute guy over there and tell him I’m fantastic in bed. We could come dig you out in a few hours."

"You’d do it, too, wouldn’t you?" Sandy laughed, shaking her head, the only part of her body she could move except for wiggling her feet around a little. "If you’re going to do it, at least get enough to cover the cost of the motel room."

"If I’m going to do it that cheap I’d just as soon do a freebie," Dayna laughed, an idea creeping over her. "But what do you want to bet that I can cover the cost of our motel room in the next hour, without touching an instrument?"

"You’re up to something, Dayna; I can see that look in your eye."

"Of course I am," Dayna grinned. "Let’s make it interesting. Say, an hour in a pillory the next time we get to a renfaire with a good one. Or maybe a spanking."

"You do have a little bondage demon in you don’t you?" Sandy laughed. "I mean, you’ve got me pretty good right now. Tell you what. Let’s find some guy and offer him a threesome. The winner is the one who gets screwed, or at least goes first."

"Fair enough," Dayna grinned. "You know how horny I am, you’d just love making me watch, wouldn’t you? But I intend to win. I’ll be right back." She got a really evil note to her voice and added, "Don’t go away."

"Oh, God," Sandy said, shaking her head as she watched her friend walk toward a group of college guys on the beach. "The things I get myself into with you."

*   *   *

Dayna walked right up to the college guys. "Hey, you guys down here for break?" she said in a sexy voice.

"Yeah," one of them spoke up. "We’re down here from Memphis State."

"I wonder if you could help my friend and me out a little," she said in a sexy, pleading voice. "We’ve, uh, got ourselves a little problem."

"Yeah, sure," the guy said, realizing that he was getting hit on by a good-looking chick in a hot bikini. Right at that moment, he was game for anything, and so were his buddies.

"Then, come on over," she said, leading the four college guys to where Sandy lay buried. She stood straddling Sandy’s feet. "You see," she told them. "We didn’t have a lot of money to come down here with, and this motel is more expensive than we thought it would be, so we’re a little short. My friend has volunteered to help out." She squatted down, giving the college guys a good view of cleavage, and ran a fingernail up the soles of one of Sandy’s feet.

"Dayna! No!" Sandy cried from behind her. "That tickles!"

"She’s very ticklish," Dayna continued, gently sliding a fingernail up Sandy’s other sole.

"Dayna . . . ha, ha . . . please, don’t, I’m ticklish."

"She is quite ticklish," Dayna smiled. "Just a little touch like that and she’s already pleading for mercy. Just imagine how she’d be screaming and begging for mercy if someone were to give her feet a real, serious tickling . . . "

"Dayna! No! Please! Don’t tickle! Please!"

"She’d really have fun," Dayna continued, ignoring Sandy’s protests. "You’d just hear her laugh till she cried. Now guys, don’t you think five minutes one on one with these ticklish tootsies would be worth, oh, twenty bucks?" With that, Dayna reached down, with both hands, and drew a fingernail up and down each sole.

"Stop it, that really tickles," Sandy pleaded. "Oh pleeease stop, it’s my feet, they’re sooooo ticklish; that tickles . . .!" Her pleas went for nothing; two of the guys were reaching for their money. In seconds, each of them handed her a twenty.

Dayna took the money and slid an end of each bill up under her bra, leaving them waving out in the open. "Why don’t each of you take a foot for ten minutes?" she suggested, standing up and getting out of the way.

"Please, no, no tickling!" Sandy pleaded, "It’s not fair, I can’t even moooove!"

"Don’t mind her, it’s not like she can hit you or anything," Dayna grinned as the two college guys crouched down in front of her bare feet and set to work.

"Please, please, pleeeeeease, pretty please no I can’t stand being tickled, I can’t stand it, nooo . . . hee hee. . . . no more tickling, not on my bare feet . . . hee hee . . . oh, God! . . . "

"Keep it up, Sandy," Dayna grinned. "We want to make sure these guys get their money’s worth!"

"Please, not under my toessss . . . hee hee hee . . . oooooh, oh no no not there, not there . . . ahhhhhhhhhhh . . . "

Inspired by her reactions, the college guys just upped the pace. Soon Sandy was screaming, pleading, laughing, tears running down her face, breathing hard, trying to get air. Dayna finally took a little pity on her, went over and put a hand on each of the college guy’s shoulders. "Hold up a second," she said. "Let her catch her breath, OK?"

"Yeah, sure," one of the college guys smiled.

Dayna glanced around. There were more than just the four college guys standing there now; there might have been fifteen or twenty people standing around watching. "These guys will be done in a couple minutes," she said. "Anyone else like to spend a little quality time with those ticklish toesies? Really, she’s enjoying it, you can tell by how much she’s laughing."

"Dayna . . . " Sandy puffed ominously. "I’m gonna get you for this . . . ha, ahahhh, ha, hah . . . "

"Now that you’ve seen how it works, what am I bid for five minutes of one on one with those tender tootsies?" Dayna said. "Let’s do an auction. Anyone give me ten for five minutes, anybody give me ten, ten, I’ve got ten, anybody got fifteen, fifteen, fifteen, well how about twelve, twelve, all right, I’ve got twelve, now fifteen, fifteen, now fifteen dollars for five minutes with Sandy’s ticklish soles, I’ve got fifteen, now eighteen, eighteen . . . " Sandy was now screaming with laughter, partly because the Memphis State guys had gone to work on her feet again, but partly at the sight of Dayna auctioning off the next round . . . "Now thirty-two, going once, going twice, anyone give me thirty five, I’ve got thirty-five . . . "

" . . . . stop it, it tickles, oh I can’t believe this . . . hee, hee . . . stooooop, really, my feet are soooo ticklish! pleeease . . . hee, hee . . . "

"Forty-five? Forty-five? Going once, going twice, sold, for forty dollars to the blonde in the blue bikini! Oh honey, those fingernails are going to be sooooo ticklish . . . "

At the end of an hour or so, there was an even bigger crowd around, and there were a number of bills hanging out of various strategic spaces in Dayna’s bikini. "All right, folks!" she called out. "I think we may be wearing her out, but hang around a second. Let’s have a big round of applause for Sandy Beach, she’s been a helluva good sport about this . . . I mean, not that she had a helluva lot of choice, but she’s been a good sport." There was a nice applause; Sandy was still catching her breath, and Dayna could see that she was seriously pissed. But, she fixed it in an instant. "I’ll tell you what, the show’s not over with. I can’t let her have all the fun, so if some of you guys will be nice enough to dig her out, I’ll fill in the hole, so to speak."

"I . . . don’t believe it . . . you’re volunteering?"

"Sandy, I’ll make a deal with you," Dayna said, loudly enough so the crowd could hear. "We had a bet, and I won. Now, I’ll give you a chance to win it back. I had to draw a crowd, now you’ve got one. If you can bring in more cash in an hour than I did, you win it after all."

"Dayna," Sandy said, struggling for breath as several guys started to dig her out with bare hands. "I swear to Christ, I’ll never figure you out."

"Just to be fair, just because you were a good sport. Tell you what, I don’t know how much money I have here, but let’s call it three hundred. Better than that wins, all right?"

"I’ll . . . I’ll take that bet if someone will go get me a pop or a beer or something, I’m exhausted and dry."

"I’m sure with all the cans I’ve seen around this place that someone must have a beer they can spare," Dayna smiled to the crowd.

"Here you go," someone replied, handing her a cold can. Dayna kneeled down in among the guys digging her out, popped the top, and held the can up to her lips.

"Oh, God, that tastes good," Sandy puffed. "Dayna, you are crazy as hell."

"You’ve known that for how long?" she smiled. "How long have you known me?"

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