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The following Monday, a construction crew set up Lo’s Cum Cube right on one of the formerly busiest corners downtown in the heart of the business district. Lola had them put up a poster in front of the cube advertising its purpose. The way she (and the mayor) evaded the laws against prostitution and solicitation was they called it “public art” designed for the alleviation of stress and isolation during the lockdown. A public service, if you will. Besides, it wasn’t either prostitution or solicitation because no money was transacted. It was a free fuck.
On the poster there were instructions on how to sign up on-line. Those who wished to take advantage of the free use girl had to submit their names, a clean bill of health, including a recent COVID test, and a few photos.
These requirements probably deterred a good portion of Lo’s clientele, but there were still enough men willing to take the risk that she had a desirable pool from which to choose. For the first day, she had selected the top five volunteers.
It was a big day for her. She dressed the part — nothing but black, semi-transparent lace panties and her knee-high black leather boots under a long, heavy winter coat.
“Wish me luck,” she said as she stood to kiss me at the door before departing for her public service.