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The taxi chauffeured me across town. The low-class pushers, prostitutes, and criminals disappeared along with the sirens, replaced by a much higher quality of pushers, prostitutes, and criminals. The ever-present, evening rain beat down on the pavement, slickly glowing in the dim streetlights. Clean-shaven, wearing my good suit, I managed to relax a little as the cab neared Club Infidel. I’d been there before.In Sintropolis, you can find any vice, any pleasure, if you look around the next corner. When you hit the more affluent areas, you don’t need to go looking at all. Club Infidel was well-known as the most luxurious, high-class den of inequity in the city. The rich, powerful, and elite congregated there to indulge their every whim, do business, and enjoy the finer things in life, such as all their favorite vices under a single roof. If you want gourmet cuisine, your cock sucked, to get high, or hire a hit-man, that was the place. It was, however, top-tier. You had to either be a high-roller, known in the area, or on the list to get inside.Pulling up, my fedora angled just so, I strode out of the taxi, tipping the driver for his discretion, and viewed the pristine white plaster and neon exterior. Some fat cat in a tuxedo, a blond bimbo with huge tits falling out of her dress hanging on his arm, was greeting the doorman as they entered. The velvet carpet lining the walkway probably cost more than a full year’s lease for my office. Of course, the doorman, a big muscle-bound enforcer type looking like he just murdered his parents, stopped me.“If you ain’t on the list, no entry.” His finely tailored jacket didn’t hide the sidearm-bulge very well.“Dirk Paladin. I should be on the list, cupcake.” He growled a random obscenity in my direction and glossed over the guest list, mouthing the syllables.Mouth-breather nodded at me. “Alright, guest of Gwen Ginnis, just in time. No funny business, or you’ll regret it.”I stopped and turned towards the gorilla in the monkey suit. “I guess I’ll never fulfill my dream of being a circus clown, then,” and walked inside.Softly Ankara bayan escort lit luxury assailed me on every side. A coat and gun check on my right, a smiling blond in a see-through top handing out claim tickets; a bar on my left, handing out booze; and a velvet-covered, raised stage with a full band in front of me were all washed in classy ambiance and soft mood lighting. Spying the chief of police talking, laughing, with a mob boss, and then a corporate CEO sitting in a booth, being pleasured, orally, by a topless waitress, I finally spied an empty booth near the stage. People dressed to the nines were gambling at a roulette table; some very happy patrons, sniffing some substance off the table, were pawing at each other in a sexual frenzy, but my client couldn’t be found in the sea of affluent, half-dressed bodies.Stowing my fedora and sidearm, receiving a claim ticket, I decided that keeping my backup firearm, a little Walther secreted near my crotch, and my tape recorder was a good idea. I might need the hand-held recorder in case somebody said something important. Experience showed that while a frisk will result in the shoulder-holstered weapon being confiscated, most guys shy away from patting down your Willy. That plays into the third rule of detective work, always have a backup.Taking note of all the important people arrayed before me, a veritable who’s who list of the rich and powerful, all of them freely indulging in scandalous behavior, I headed for the empty, high-backed booth and took roughly two-hundred pounds of woe off my feet. Club Infidel was the nexus of sin in Sintropolis. Every imaginable vice was in orgy-mode around me.“What’s your pleasure, handsome?” An enthusiastic, feminine voice sang out to me.Looking up, a stacked brunette filled my vision. She wore high heels, sequined bottoms somewhere between a pair of panties and revealing shorts, and an open, matching vest, her perfectly formed breasts on display. Her manicured hands held out a round tray filled with pills, some tightly Escort bayan Ankara rolled herbal smokes, and some odd, unidentifiable yellow liquid in beakers.”Not my thing, miss.”“Would you like a blowjob, then?”“Pardon?” She smiled at me.”Your cock. How’d like me to suck it for you?”“Yeah, real high-class joint, here, nothing but the best. What are all those pills, anyway?”“The usual,” her response was accompanied by a lusty licking of her lips. “We’ve got the uppers, downers, some trippy ones here,” she pointed, “some snuff, and the antidote,” the final point designated the yellow vials.“Antidotes?”“Yep,” her low-class accent shone through for just a moment. “You see, sometimes people mix the downers with the trippers. Too much and it can kill you, make your body shut down.” She held one of the piss-colored vials up. “This little number will take care of that and make you right as rain.”“Like I said, pass.”“No sex, no drugs? Rock and Roll? How ‘bout a drink, then? You look like a bourbon kind of guy.”I shrugged. “I’ll have water, on the rocks.”“There’s a two-drink minimum.”“Then bring me two waters.”She gave me a respectful, waitress eye roll and scampered off, showing a nice, firm, round ass in her short-shorts. I watched the musicians tuning up for their next set as the emcee walked up to the vintage-looking microphone.“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his showman tuxedo shimmering in the lights. “Once more, Club Infidel is pleased to present the heavenly voice of the beautiful and sensual Miss Gwen Ginnis.”All red satin dress, legs, lips, and perfect sensual beauty, my client took the stage. The dress was as blood-red as her lips. The rowdy club grew quiet; the musicians began a soft, soulful, mellow melody. She no longer wore her overly-revealing mourning garb. The red, skintight dress was cut elegantly and demurely, but painted on, making her seem nuder than if she hadn’t been wearing anything.Her husky, throaty voice dripped like sexy honey, promising sweet release to everyone with ears. Slowly crooning Bayan escort Ankara about how a, “man like you,” makes her blood boil, she swayed to the tune as if her entire soul was about to orgasm. Just when then soothing sounds had everyone entrenched in smoldering sexuality, the guitar exploded in an incendiary power-chord, filled with distortion, and her throaty voice screamed out a primal, guttural, lust-filled phrase about fucking her hard, like a whore. It was almost as if she could read my mind.Looking around, I wasn’t the only one delightfully surprised that the crooning queen turned metal and rocked the joint with her vocal, sexual assault of moans, screams, and lusty lyrics. Although I prefer a soulful sax, it was impressive. More impressive, was the way her breasts heaved, her hips thrust back and forth, and her tongue lashed out, promising delights of the flesh. If raw, heated, nasty sex was music, her vocals were the climax. Her nipples poked out of their tight, red confines so prominently that I could count the bumps on her areolas. Finishing her number, she stared at me with a lusty smile, snaked her tongue out to moisten her lips, and walked backstage, her ass looking even sexier than it had earlier that day. The applause was deafening. She emerged less than a minute later, immediately greeted by a well-dressed, important-looking man I didn’t know. The way she touched him, how he cupped her ass when they kissed deeply, and their mutual body language told me that they knew each other quite well, intimately.“Here’s your water, handsome.” My waitress had returned. She plopped my two glasses on the table, standing there, sticking out her chest. “If you want anything else, I’m on the house.”“Tempting, but not the kind of business I’m doing. Who’s the popular blond guy with Gwen?”“That’s Jacob Cumberbatch. I figured everyone knew him.”“I know the man, just never met him. Is he always so hands-on with the ladies?”“In here, everyone is, sugar, but Missus, I mean Miss,” she corrected herself, “Ginnis and Jacob have been quite the hot item for some time.”My mental cogs turned, clicked into place. “So, you’re saying she and Bradley weren’t the happiest couple, ever?”She looked around, nervously. “It’s Club Infidel; anything goes. But they were an item before Mr. Ginnis, bless his soul, swept in. Even after they married, they kept on with each other.”
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