satin robe over her costume, and it parted when she thrust out her chest and sidled up next to him.
“Didn’t I see you at the museum the earlier tonight?”
“I was there,” Alex said.
“I thought so. Aren’t you going to introduce me, Jack?”
Jack took a deep breath. “Candy Gayheart, Alex Andros.”
“So you’re Alex Andros,” Candy purred. “I’ve seen you in here, but I didn’t know you were you.”
“You know him?” Jack asked.
“His boss owns the Pussy Club. Isn’t that right, Alex?”
“That’s right,” Alex said. “I guess you didn’t know that, huh, Jack?”
Jack grunted, and Alex enjoyed seeing the grimace on his face.
Candy moved closer. “From what I’ve heard, you’re not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
She looked him up and down. “Not you.”
Alex could only imagine.
“You going to stay and watch my act?” Candy asked.
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Alex whispered in Jack’s ear, “I’ll take my drink and watch from where I don’t have to smell you. Enjoy your girlfriend. If you can.” Alex smiled at Candy. “Nice meeting you. Keep bringing in the crowds. Max is pleased. And take care of our friend here. He needs some tender loving care tonight.” Another pat on Jack’s shoulder, and Alex picked up his drink and moved toward the door.
“Nice meeting you, Alex,” Candy said. She pinched Jack’s ass and trotted off. Jack winced. Alex smiled.
Candy hustled onstage and threw chocolate candy kisses into the audience. “Hi ya, sweet thangs,” she chimed over the din. The men answered back with a roaring, “Hi ya, Candy.”
Alex had seen her routine once before, though Max said it changed regularly enough to keep the men coming back for more. Testosterone hung in the air like cooking grease, men whooping and hollering for Candy Gayheart.
She wore a cowboy outfit: hat, chaps, vest, boots, holster, and gun. The rest was creamy, smooth skin. The music started, some country number about a girl and her horse, and Candy pranced around the stage connected to the end of the bar, ass bare and visible, teasing the men in the front row tables. She sashayed onto the bar with a stool and sat in front of Jack. She took off one boot at a time, kicking up her legs to allow a glimpse of what hid behind the chaps. Not everything but enough pussy to make the horny men hornier.
She doffed her hat then threw it into the crowd of now panting men. Her long red hair bounced to her shoulders. She threw her head forward, shaking her tresses into the face of a burly guy sitting at a table with a bunch of drooling men. Tossing it back, she pulled a handful on top of her head and let it go wild as she twisted and turned. Her very substantial chest popped out of her vest, and Burly looked like he wanted to pull her off the stage and fuck her right there.
Candy knew how far to push it. She eased away and pulled out the gun, firing caps into the air. The place went wild. She tossed the gun and unbuckled the belt and holster. It fell to the floor where she kicked it off to the side, all the while shaking and prancing and high-kicking her long, shapely legs. Meanwhile, the music played on, the twangy story of a girl’s love for her horse getting more risqué by the minute. The way Candy gyrated on stage, Alex shuddered to think what would happen if she had a real horse up there with her. The cops would be raiding the place in a Boston minute.
Swirling around to the front, she slipped the vest off one shoulder, exposing one breast with a pop-up sequined spur somehow attached to her nipple. She covered it again, ignoring the chants of “Take it off. Take it all off.” After doing the same thing with the other side of the vest, she teased the vest off completely and twirled those manufactured boobs in two different directions, spurs swirling and shining when catching the light.
Off came the chaps, revealing a sheriff’s tin badge on an elastic G-string covering her hairless
“Didn’t I see you at the museum the earlier tonight?”
“I was there,” Alex said.
“I thought so. Aren’t you going to introduce me, Jack?”
Jack took a deep breath. “Candy Gayheart, Alex Andros.”
“So you’re Alex Andros,” Candy purred. “I’ve seen you in here, but I didn’t know you were you.”
“You know him?” Jack asked.
“His boss owns the Pussy Club. Isn’t that right, Alex?”
“That’s right,” Alex said. “I guess you didn’t know that, huh, Jack?”
Jack grunted, and Alex enjoyed seeing the grimace on his face.
Candy moved closer. “From what I’ve heard, you’re not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
She looked him up and down. “Not you.”
Alex could only imagine.
“You going to stay and watch my act?” Candy asked.
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Alex whispered in Jack’s ear, “I’ll take my drink and watch from where I don’t have to smell you. Enjoy your girlfriend. If you can.” Alex smiled at Candy. “Nice meeting you. Keep bringing in the crowds. Max is pleased. And take care of our friend here. He needs some tender loving care tonight.” Another pat on Jack’s shoulder, and Alex picked up his drink and moved toward the door.
“Nice meeting you, Alex,” Candy said. She pinched Jack’s ass and trotted off. Jack winced. Alex smiled.
Candy hustled onstage and threw chocolate candy kisses into the audience. “Hi ya, sweet thangs,” she chimed over the din. The men answered back with a roaring, “Hi ya, Candy.”
Alex had seen her routine once before, though Max said it changed regularly enough to keep the men coming back for more. Testosterone hung in the air like cooking grease, men whooping and hollering for Candy Gayheart.
She wore a cowboy outfit: hat, chaps, vest, boots, holster, and gun. The rest was creamy, smooth skin. The music started, some country number about a girl and her horse, and Candy pranced around the stage connected to the end of the bar, ass bare and visible, teasing the men in the front row tables. She sashayed onto the bar with a stool and sat in front of Jack. She took off one boot at a time, kicking up her legs to allow a glimpse of what hid behind the chaps. Not everything but enough pussy to make the horny men hornier.
She doffed her hat then threw it into the crowd of now panting men. Her long red hair bounced to her shoulders. She threw her head forward, shaking her tresses into the face of a burly guy sitting at a table with a bunch of drooling men. Tossing it back, she pulled a handful on top of her head and let it go wild as she twisted and turned. Her very substantial chest popped out of her vest, and Burly looked like he wanted to pull her off the stage and fuck her right there.
Candy knew how far to push it. She eased away and pulled out the gun, firing caps into the air. The place went wild. She tossed the gun and unbuckled the belt and holster. It fell to the floor where she kicked it off to the side, all the while shaking and prancing and high-kicking her long, shapely legs. Meanwhile, the music played on, the twangy story of a girl’s love for her horse getting more risqué by the minute. The way Candy gyrated on stage, Alex shuddered to think what would happen if she had a real horse up there with her. The cops would be raiding the place in a Boston minute.
Swirling around to the front, she slipped the vest off one shoulder, exposing one breast with a pop-up sequined spur somehow attached to her nipple. She covered it again, ignoring the chants of “Take it off. Take it all off.” After doing the same thing with the other side of the vest, she teased the vest off completely and twirled those manufactured boobs in two different directions, spurs swirling and shining when catching the light.
Off came the chaps, revealing a sheriff’s tin badge on an elastic G-string covering her hairless
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