"Are you sure it's him?" You said with hesitation, "maybe he stole that helmet."
"Believe me that's the guy for sure!" Your Zabrak friend whispers in your ear while you did not take your eyes off at a man whose face is shrouded in darkness. You see him sitting across the saloon with a drink in his hand and his T-visor helmet on the table in front of him, bathing in the sun's rays. You can't see his eyes but you feel them staring at you like a cold wind blowing against your skin, making your goosebumps rise in attention.
Rumors spread around the saloon that he is no other than the infamous bounty hunter Boba Fett based on that helmet on display. You recall just yesterday that he was swallowed by a Sarlacc along with the crime boss Jabba the Hutt who was burned alive by Han Solo and his rebel scum. Some say the Hutt was killed by one of his personal slaves but many clients laughed at the idea of Jabba's demise was at the hands of a women. Your mind wishes you could meet this slave who killed that vile slug just to thank her for ridding that pest. As for Boba Fett, you are not sure if he is truly dead considering the odds of surviving a Sarlacc pit are one out of a million. If he did walked out of the pit clean, why wouldn't he just crash at Jabba's palace instead of being here and choose you afterwards?
"I don't know," You whine, "I thought he's more interested in Tajah. I saw her dancing in front of him an hour ago."
"That old tail-head tries to steal everyone's customer when she's not picked!" She winks at you, "out of all the girls and boys he picked from the Saloon's hologram list is you! He wants you all to himself, babe."
You blush at the thought of this lone patron wanting your attention for the rest of the evening. It's your first night since you've graduated from serving girl to courtesan in Mos Eisley's premier "Skin Saloon" and already a customer is asking for your attention. Hopefully, he treats you well and pays good enough so you can leave this dust bowel of a planet for good.
"You didn't tell him that this is my first day on the job?" You asked.
"Of course not hun!" She added, "Unless you want to hang out with that lizard friend next to him, I suggest you make your way over. He's a favorite around here and pays really well if you do your job correctly!"
"Shut up" you growl at her but the Zabrak courtesan giggles anyway. "Just kidding love, he already paid in advance for you. So shake what your momma gave ya' while you earn some cold hard credits!"
She slaps your behind and runs away laughing to take a seat at the bar next to your Devaronian madam so they could watch you work. You gave your friend one mean look before facing forward to make eye contact with your first client whose name you heard in hushed voices as Boba Fett, the most mysterious and dangerous bounty hunter in the galaxy. Or so they say. You casually stroll over to the man in the shadows until the reflection from his helmet hits your face and blinds my vision. You could not help but look at the green helmet gleaming in the sunlight like a rare gem you once saw on display at a jeweler's one time. You find the helmet beautiful aside from its minor dents and paint scratches.
"You like it? I just got it polished," that rich voice throws you off-guard. You glance at him to see the bounty hunter taking a sip from his whiskey coolly.
"Sorry sir, I just never seen anything so big?" Your attempt at flirting goes horribly wrong but you were able to see the bounty hunter crack a devilishly grin when you see his pearly white teeth.
Then his lizard friend next to him hisses at you, "That's nothing compare to what I got over here toots!" His clawed hand reaches out to you about to grope you until the Mandalorian raises his loaded blaster rifle at the Transdoshan.
"Leave us, Bossk," Boba Fett growls at him. The lizard snarls aggressively at the bounty hunter in return. The Trandoshan leaves you both alone and heads to the other side of the bar to flip open a hologram to display other girls that are available for the evening. The bounty hunter in the darks draws his weapon and puts it back in its holster.
Now it's just you and Boba Fett, face-to-face. You loosen your posture so he could get a better view of your assets. You ask, "Are you the one they call Boba Fett?"
"Why don't you come closer and see for yourself," he teases and lifts his drink up to his lips. You listen to the music in the background to get a sense of rhythm when you get closer to the man in front of you. Walking behind the table, you start to dance sensually in front of him. He moves back against the wall and man spreads his strong legs to give you a little room.
As you get closer to him, you finally get to see his face in great detail with the little light the suns radiating on his face. Suddenly, your heart flutters and your blood starts pumping into your nether regions. Soon the room becomes unbearable hot despite your lack of clothing to provide such heat. Not only was the bounty hunter human, he is handsome as hell.
His wavy black hair and his brown-red skin reminds you of rustic copper on black velvet with a few small scars etched on his face, and has bedroom eyes that can cause a virtuous woman to think of impure thoughts. Even though he is wearing armor, you can make out the size of his burly muscles just by the sear tightness of his dusty grey flight suit. In courtesan's terms, you struck the jackpot!
"Forgive me, I heard others talking and I shouldn't have listen," You said as you you make your way toward his lap. His chestnut-colored eyes follow your hands when you caress yourself. "What have you heard about me?"
"That you were dead," you said while you straddle his leg leaving an inch away from his body. Your hips gyrates against his thick leg but he remains still throughout the dance. You lean into him and whisper into his ear, "fallen into some dark, wet hole by a Jedi."
"I am told I am very hard to kill but I can't say the same for the Sarlacc and that Jedi brat." You snicker slightly You tremble when he breath hits your ear. Oh how you love the way he talks basic in that foreign accent of his. It reminds you of the Mandalorian clients that visit a couple of nights ago when you served them their drinks.
"Are you a Mandalorian?" You keep making small talk while your hips sway front to back. "My father was from Concord Dawn, a colony of Mandalore and a lineage from a long line of Mandalorian warriors but that's as close as I am to be a one."
"I know from experience only the strongest can wear that armor regardless, Mando or not. Is it safe to assume you inherit your father's armor, his power, and his good looks as well?"
"You can say that, darling," his smirk plays across his tan face while you comb his black curls with your fingers. His open gloved hand crawls up your skin to your shoulder to your hair but you direct it back to your hip. Your next move was to unhook his thigh and have your back pressing against his chest. Then you made your body undulate to the music and proceed to grind on his metal cod-piece.
"Well I'm lucky to meet a man so strong and vigorous to take on the challenge," you said in a soft tone, almost moaning the words out. You look over your shoulder to stare into his brown eyes.
Finally, the stoic bounty hunter breaks and throws his head back groaning when you hit on a sensitive spot. You could not help but press down harder on his abdomen. You get a sense that he's packing quite a largo piece of cargo beneath your own.
Suddenly, you feel his gloved hand wrap around your neck. He pulls you closer so his mouth touches your ear. He whispers hoarsely, "I have a good feeling about this."
"No need to tell me," You reply in victory but you feel his gloved hand tighten around your neck. You gasp when his hands roam over your body that makes you squirm on top of him. He digs his fingers into your hair and nuzzles your scent against his thick nose. You keep hitting his cod piece that is slightly bigger than it was minutes ago. As he sniffs your hair, you notice pairs of eyes staring at you from across the room. Some of the other saloon girls glare at you in malice while the clients had a smug look plastered on their ugly faces. He growls into your ear, "You shouldn't do that. I have a reputation to maintain. You don't know the kind of man your dealing with!"
"Then let's ditch this joint so you can show me what kind of man you are," you beg, "I know you want to."
He releases his grip on you so you can stand up. He takes his signature helmet off the table and ceremoniously places it on his crown. You see your own reflection on the black glass of his T-visor and somehow you see your own potential future with this lone scoundrel. He rises up in authority and nods his head to show you he's ready. His commanding voice vibrates through the mask, "lead the way."