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A Lost Identity: Sex Fugitive | lostandfound | 5

 

The neon lights of the strip club came into your mind. Club? Was that what the blonde man meant?

Having few other options, you head for the sign. You turn your face away as a police car and ambulance blow by you as they speed to the hotel. Nobody pays much attention as you walk through the streets. The ill-fitting clothes you’re wearing probably help you blend in with the assortment of addicts, bum and other people who are often best avoided.

You stop in front of the club, the flashing sign paints your face in a haunting pale green. This doesn’t seem like a place, where you’re likely to find any answers. As you walk up to the door, a very large bouncer steps in your path. He looks you over and at last says, “there’s a ten dollar cover charge. If you can’t afford it, get lost.”

You hand the man a twenty and start to walk past him. He holds out his giant palm. “Not so fast, no one gets in without being carded.”

You pause; the only thing you have is the dead man’s driver’s license. You consider trying to push past the bouncer, but realize that the only way you could fight this guy and win would be with the gun. You reach into your pocket and withdraw the card. You offer it to the bouncer with a weak smile. He looks at the card, then at you, then at the card again. Finally he says, “O.K., the VIP rooms are in the back.” He then takes out a cell phone, “I’ll send word that you’re heading back.”

You walk into the club. You should have been surprised that the bouncer let you in, but for some reason you aren’t. The place is fairly quiet. There’s a blonde, silicone breasted stripper on stage performing a half-hearted pole dance. Another stripper seems to be having a better time giving one of the half dozen patrons a lap dance.

Nobody so much as looks at you as you head across the room to a large red curtain. Another large bouncer, this one a black man, waits. He pulls back one edge of the curtain as you approach and says, “Room three, on the right.”

You find the room just down the hall and enter through the red door. It’s poorly lit, unadorned, and reeks of sex. The only thing inside is a cushioned bench that follows the walls all the way around the room. You sit down and wait.

The door opens a stunning young woman walks in. Waves of thick, raven black hair spilled over her shoulders and reached down to the center of her back. Flawless light brown skin covers her muscular, but still very feminine frame. Her ample breasts are held in place by a leather bikini top. A few dark pubic hairs can be seen sticking out of the tiny g-string she is wearing.

She shuts the door and turned towards you. “All right honey, let’s get things star…” Her eyes open wide as she sees you. “Oh my god. , is it really you?” She stumbles in her high heals as she runs across the room. Her eyes well up with tears. “He said you were dead!” She throws herself on top of you and starts kissing you passionately. “Thank God, Thank God.”

With her warm body tightly pressed up against yours, you can’t help but get an erection.

She says, “I missed you so much! I knew Eddie was lying when he said you were dead. I knew it! That little, yellow-haired bastard had better hope he never sees me again. Oh God, I’m so happy to see you!” Her hands run down to your crotch. She grins, “And I can tell you’re happy to see me too.”

 

What do you do next?


          Nothing, somebody else walks in.

 
 
 

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