Elizabeth Watson: An unholy desire

Ten o'clock at night, and the velvet smoke-stenched curtains of the nightclub lifted, leaving the stage open to view.

"Good to see ya came back, fella," a lilac smelling redhead leered at the two people she'd just served drinks. "Valerie told me all about you," she crooned, leaning down over the table so that her heavy melon shaped breasts grazed the tip of Dr. Dexter's nose. Next to him, Ann smiled, proud of her husband who'd become another person since the completion of his research project.

True. He'd changed considerably since that afternoon on the grassy backyard with Dante and Valerie witnessing the turning point of a failing marriage. Now it was sex for breakfast, lunch and dinner… and sometimes a midnight snack.

"Honey? What's the surprise you told me about? I know that Valerie is going to perform, but why do they have a bed and dresser on stage? Rather strange for a stripper, don't you think?"

Gently, patting her arm, he leaned over, resting his other hand on her nylon slick knee. "Just you wait honey. Better watch real close, because when we get home it's not going to be our new pet joker who gets all the tricks."

"Is that a promise?"