Headhunter by Michael Slade

Author:Michael Slade [Slade, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi

Looking for Jack the Lad

12:55 a.m.

Monica Macdonald had seen more than enough.

For the past two days she and Rusty Lewis had been moving from one strip club to another across the map of the city. She found the trip a bore. There had once been a time when Macdonald had seriously considered a career in art, and to that end she had studied Fine Arts in college. Even today she was still proficient at the charcoal sketching of nudes. But that was the human body in its classic form. This was something different.

It was almost 1:00 a.m. but Phantoms was going strong.

Macdonald and Lewis were both dressed in civilian clothes and they were sitting at a small table ten feet from the raised dance floor. Both were sipping beers. The woman up on the stage in front of them was not wearing civilian clothes. She was maybe eighteen years of age and had long black hair. All she had on were satin-covered, high-heeled, ankle-strapped pumps and a sequined G-string. Her breasts were bare.

There were several speakers situated about the club and two above the stage, all of them playing canned soft rock— Olivia Newton-John growling about wanting to get physical.

While Macdonald and Lewis scanned the customers' faces looking for Matthew Paul Pitt or any of the other illustrious members in their memorized Rogues' Gallery, the stripper danced to the edge of the stage and squatted down in front of a solitary British sailor dressed in Navy blues. Spreading her legs wide, she pulled aside the G-string to expose herself completely. There were catcalls around the room. As the sailor stared at her genitals with his Adam's apple bobbing, the woman licked her lips. The sailor reached for a pair of glasses to get a better look, but the moment he put them on the stripper removed them from his nose. She began to wipe them slowly across her exposed crotch, pursing her lips and pouting an expression of innocence. Then she replaced the spectacles on the sailor's face and arched her back like a gymnast. Supporting her weight with her arms and her feet, she began thrusting her pelvis toward the man's face, pumping and rocking her hips as he continued to stare wide-eyed.

The hooting and laughing and whistling rose as the crowd in the room went wild. Then one drunk shouted above the din: "Hey, lady, I'll sniff your bicycle seat anytime!"

Monica Macdonald sighed. How does any woman end up in a place like this? she thought.

"Seen enough?" Macdonald asked, leaning over to Lewis. Rusty Lewis nodded. He knocked back the rest of his beer, then the two of them left the table just as the woman on the stage ripped off the G-string.

Monica Macdonald liked to think that hers was an open mind. So she had started out on this strip-club crawl with a clinical attitude. Not once in her life had she had a Lesbian experience, unless of course you counted the time that her Uncle Harold while babysitting had tried to get both her and her fourteen-year-old sister into bed at once.

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