Insatiable Hunger: Chapter 10

It’s late fall in the Midwest. It’s too dark to see, but if I could I’d see that the fields that I drive past have already been harvested. In front of me I can see the bright lights of the city. Just a mile or so until my turnoff. Tonight, despite the various warnings lights, I turn off the self driving feature of my car.

It’s an older car that still has the manual driving feature. Most new cars don’t even have the feature. Hell. Most people under the age of 25 don’t know how to drive them manual anymore.

Call me an old timer, but sometimes it just nice to drive a car, like the good old days. Plus, I’m very sure I don’t want where I am going tonight recorded in the GPS.

It’s been a couple of hours since I left the doctor’s office. Some cancers they still haven’t figured out how to cure and I won the genetic lottery on that one. I was in complete shock, it was supposed to be a routine visit. I didn’t even feel bad, but there it was right there on the scan.

I’m still trying to figure out how I’m going to tell my kids… They just watched there mother go through the same thing a year ago. She hung on for as long as she could, but it’s a terrible disease. At least it will be quick with me, a lot less suffering for me and them to be frank. They will be fine, they have their lives now, but to loose two parents so quickly, will be hard I know.

As I approach the turn off, my eyes are assaulted by the bright lights of the club and I turn into the well lit parking lot. Like me, these kinds of clubs are a dying breed. This is one of the few that still use real girls as the entertainment. So many of the newer clubs use androids now. It’s cheaper and less controversial I suppose. But that’s not what I am interested in tonight. Tonight I just want to forget about my troubles and blow some money on some pretty ladies.

I exit the car into the well lit parking lot and walk to the door. The bouncer stands at the door and lets me know, $40 to get in. Damn inflation, I think. I nod silently and walk into the vestibule. The lady behind the glass collects my money. Even though the sticker on the window says they check all IDs, she doesn’t bother with me.

“Sorry, gramps. No senior citizen discount today. Should’ve come on Wednesday,” she says. I give her a slight smile and a nod and walk into the strip club.

As I step into the dimly lit club, the sounds of upbeat music and muffled chatter envelop me, immediately transporting me to a world where my troubles seem to fade away. The air is thick with the smell of stale beer and cheap perfume. I take a deep breath, feeling the tension in my shoulders begin to ease.

I make my way to the bar, my eyes scanning the room as I take in the layout. A stage is to my left, where a young woman with bright pink hair is dancing to the music, her movements sensual and provocative.

I take a seat on one of the worn, leather stools at the bar. The bartender, a gruff-looking man with a thick beard, looks up from the glass he’s polishing and raises an eyebrow. “What can I get you?” he asks, his voice a low rumble. I order a whiskey, and he nods, reaching for a bottle of amber liquid on the top shelf. He pours a generous shot into a glass and slides it down the bar to me, the movement smooth and practiced. I pick up the glass and take a sip, the burn of the whiskey spreading through my chest.

My gaze drifts towards the stage, where the pink-haired dancer is now perched on the edge, her legs stretched out in front of her. She’s wearing a pair of black leather boots with silver buckles, and a matching leather corset that cinches at her waist. I watch, mesmerized, as she begins to sway to the music, her hips undulating in a slow, sensual motion.

The bartender polishes another glass, his eyes flicking towards the stage before returning to his work. “New girl,” he says, his voice low.

I nod my head, my eyes still fixed on the pink-haired dancer, but my interest waning slightly as I ask the bartender, “Got any older ones working tonight?” The bartender’s expression remains neutral, but I catch a hint of a raised eyebrow as he polishes another glass. He sets the glass down and leans in slightly, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone, “We’ve got a few veterans working the floor tonight. Let me see who’s available.” He glances around the room, his eyes scanning the crowd before landing on a figure standing near the edge of the stage. He nods discreetly towards the woman, and I follow his gaze to a stage in the corner of the room, partially hidden by a tattered velvet curtain.

The stage is dimly lit, with a single spotlight casting a warm glow on the dancer. She’s a blond-headed woman with a voluptuous figure, her curves spilling out of a sparkling silver bikini. Her large breasts bounce with each movement, drawing my gaze like a magnet. The woman’s eyes seem to sparkle with a hint of mischief as she dances to the music, her hips swaying in a slow, sensual motion. Despite the allure of her performance, the stage is surprisingly empty, with no one sitting at the tables surrounding it.

I nod with a thanks, my eyes still fixed on the blond-headed woman as I approach the stage with the dim spotlight. The music seems to grow louder, the beat pulsating through my chest as I take a seat at the stage. The woman’s eyes flicker towards me, a hint of a smile playing on her lips as she continues to dance. Her movements are slow and sensual, her hips swaying in a deliberate rhythm that seems to draw me in. I watch, mesmerized, as she spins around the pole, her silver bikini glinting in the spotlight.

Her eyes lock onto mine, and she flashes a warm smile. She’s even more stunning up close, with a subtle sheen to her skin that catches the dim light of the stage. Her gaze holds mine for a moment, and I feel a spark of connection, as if she’s sizing me up. The music pulses on, and she begins to dance closer to the edge of the stage.

I take a sip of my whiskey, feeling the burn all the way down, as I watch her. She’s dancing just for me now, her movements becoming more sensual and provocative with each passing moment. The music reaches a crescendo, and she slowly begins to undo the clasp of her silver bikini top.