Jack stood outside of the strip bar and took in the night air. It had been a good ten years since he had visited one of these places. Like most vampires, he had one or two human activities that kept him from turning feral. Jack's activities were motorcycles and cigars. Sex, and any of its spin-offs, had never been an attraction for him since he was embraced. Some vampires found sex more intense after their embrace, and continued with the activity. But the activity was always secondary to the need, the thirst, and the hunger, for the rich, red, and ripe liquid that flowed through human arteries.
Jack stepped off his Harley Fat Boy and slowly entered the bar. This one was a bit more upscale then some of the sleaze dens around the area. It referred to itself as a "Gentlemen's Club." Right, thought Jack. Naked babes playing to suckers. Look but don't touch. Oh, unless you have a lot of money. And then you can touch.
Jack took a seat near the rear, around a small round table, barely big enough for one, let alone two. The stage was about thirty feet long, with two extensions coming out into the crowd. A bunch of humans were sitting on chairs along the extensions, watching and sipping watered-down drinks.
Six girls of varying shapes and sizes worked the stage. They all wore costumes, from French maid to schoolgirl and everything in between. Every so often, one of them would step out of the line and onto one of the extensions, working the pole or the chair. Articles of clothing would gradually fall off until the girl was down to her thong or g-string. Then she would play for the tips. Jack smiled grimly and watched the girls milk the male human fools for fives, tens, and twenties.
There was one girl who got his eye. A pretty brunette, with raven hair, average height and weight, and a bit of a voluptuous shape, was on the far right of the stage. She had large breasts, and was dressed as a secretary. When she moved out onto the island, she did not smile and look at the suckers, but looked at something up and above.
It was the girl's movement that caught Jack's eye. She actually had a sense of rhythm and timing, and was not just shaking her ass. She moved with purpose. Her appearance seemed to be Bohemian; perhaps even some gypsy blood flowed in her. Jack watched as the girl slowly moved onto the extension and began to work the chair.
Another movement caught Jack's eye. Two men had entered the club, one in his early fifties, and the other in his late twenties or early thirties.
The older of the two Jack called Fat Man. He was, indeed, grossly obese, and was puffing at the slightest movement. He wore a lightweight navy blue wool suit that looked as if it hadn't seen a dry cleaner in ten years. His black wing tips looked as if they had been polished with a brick. He was bald, and perspiring. His face, which may have been distinguished-looking in his youth, appeared to have been flattened one too many times on a blacksmith's anvil. He puffed and panted his way down the steps to the extension where Jack's girl was working the chair, and perched his oversized butt on a seat.
The other man was obviously a bodyguard. He was trim and svelte, with a small brown moustache, and not a hair on his head was out of place. He wore a grey wool suit, with light blue and white pinstripes, and added to the ensemble with a vest and watch fob. A white oxford button-down shirt and regimental tie completed the outfit. His face and hands were tanned, and he looked as if he spent a lot of time in a gym. The younger man looked sharp. Jack also noticed the outline of a gun under the man's suit. He stood directly behind the chair Fat Man had chosen to ruin.
Jack watched as Fat Man gazed directly at the girl. It was obvious he was aroused. Jack chuckled. If this girl ever got him in bed, she could kill him. He decided that this was the real show and worth watching. He ordered a beer, which he would not touch, and decided to observe the events on the small stage.
The girl had noticed the arrival of Fat Man and gave him a cursory nod. Her act was obviously a naughty secretary, and she was dressed in a way-to-short and tight suit. She quickly lost the jacket, tossing it back to the main stage. She continued her dance, now wearing a purple lace bra and too-tight mini.
The girl hopped off the chair, unzipped the zipper on her mini, and stepped out of it, revealing a matching purple lace thong and a purple garter on her left thigh. She smiled seductively, but not at Fat Man, as Jack expected. Instead, she directed her phony affection at a much younger man, who looked like a tradesman, sitting at the end of the stage.
The girl wiggled over to the younger guy, squirmed in front of him a bit, and then dropped to all fours, facing away from him. She shook her butt at him and slowly backed up until her cheeks were about three feet from his head. All the while, she kept on grinding.
The guy smiled and looked silly. Then he pulled a twenty out of his wallet and rolled it like he was going to do a line of coke. Instead of snorting, he began to run the twenty over the girl's butt cheeks. She kept looking back at him, favoring him with phony smiles and giggles, and wiggling her butt. The guy traced some circles on her backside with the twenty, and then decided to tease inside of her thighs with it. The girl gave out with a phony "Oooh!" and continued to grind.
Jack smiled and looked over at Fat Man. Fat Man was in a jealous rage, sweat pouring from everywhere and his ugly face flushed and full of anger. Jack laughed softly. He was going to feed on this girl tonight.
The girl wiggled in front of her mark for a few moments, then rose to her knees and turned and faced him. She clasped her hands behind her head, looked down at him, and gave him a sexy smile. He placed the twenty inside the waistband of her thong. She grabbed the bill, stood up, quickly put the twenty in her garter, and then began to strut her stuff around the stage. She did three laps, and finally stopped in front of Fat Man, dropping, once again, to her knees with her hands behind her head and continuing to grind.
Fat Man leaned back and smiled, and the girl grinned down at him seductively. Jack thought her whole act silly, but this time the girl appeared to be genuine. Evidently, Fat Man was a regular customer and possibly a big tipper. Jack also considered the possibility that the girl was a hooker, and Fat Man a regular john. If that was the case, she was playing him like a concert violinist plays a concerto.
The girl continued her grind in front of Fat Man. He wore a silly, adolescent grin. He reached up toward the bodyguard with his left hand and opened it. The bodyguard yanked a wallet out of his suit pocket, opened it, and pulled two hundred-dollar bills out of it. He laid them in Fat Man's open palm.
Fat Man took the money and rolled each bill individually. Then he began to play about the girl's body, using the bills as fingers. The girl took off her bra and giggled while Fat Man teased. Jack stood up, put a twenty under his untouched mug of beer, and headed outside. He had seen enough. He would have some fun tonight. He was going to feed on the girl and probably scare the hell out of Fat Man and the bodyguard.
Jack went to the Harley, kicked it over, and rode it slowly around to the back of the club. He was correct in his guess that the rear entrance was the one the girls used. Two huge bouncers guarded the door. Jack stopped the Harley, shut it down, propped it on the kickstand, got off, leaned against it, and waited. He had all night. The fun would begin when Fat Man and his bodyguard showed up.
Jack waited for three hours. A three-hour wait is nothing for a vampire; vampires survive and thrive by patience and stealth. With his heightened senses, Jack savored the night. The time went quickly.
Jack heard the club close. He heard people, mostly male, come out the front door, laughing and cursing. He heard cars and motorcycles start up and drive away. And then he saw the grey Mercedes limo pull up to the rear of the club. Fat Man got out of the back, holding a dozen roses. He walked over to the rear door and engaged the bouncers in conversation. The bodyguard got out from behind the steering wheel, and leaned against the left front fender of the Merc. The car was still idling. Obviously, the air conditioning was still running. The bodyguard examined first his fingernails and then the tips of his shoes.
Some of the dancers came out of the club, flirting with the bouncers and Fat Man. A few flirted with the bodyguard. They were dressed in jeans and skirts, mostly common everyday things. They hopped into Hondas, Toyotas, and Fords and drove away. The two bouncers headed back inside. And then the girl came out and smiled at Fat Man.
She was dressed in jeans, dark blue, Capri style, hip-huggers with a rope belt. Sensible sandals covered her feet. She had an orchid halter on, tied in the back. Her gorgeous hair was pulled back into a ponytail, which fell to her waist. She had touched up her makeup, and added gold chains, one around her neck and the other on her left wrist. All in all, she looked delicious. Jack smiled, licked his lips, and began to saunter towards the three.
Fat Man handed the girl the dozen roses, and she giggled and kissed him quickly on the lips. She squealed with delight. And then, out of the corner of her left eye, she caught Jack walking towards them. She stopped dead in her tracks, turned, and looked the vampire right in the eye. Her mouth parted slightly, her eyes grew wide, and she was obviously interested.
A vampire, once embraced, tries to cultivate and develop a look or appearance that will appeal to a certain crowd or class of people. The look changes over the years, as time moves forward and as vampires seek to move within different social circles. Jack cultivated the look of a sophisticated biker.
He rode a Harley Fat Boy. His body was just under six feet, and weighed roughly one sixty-five. He wore his hair shoulder-length, and pulled into a ponytail. His salt-and-pepper beard was neat and trimmed close. He favored work boots, jeans, and light blue work shirts. He topped the whole ensemble off with a Movado watch and a leather vest. He was one very sexy biker. And the girl was attracted. She dropped the roses and stared directly at Jack.
Fat Man motioned to the bodyguard, who moved toward Jack and stepped directly in front of him.
"Get lost, man." The bodyguard's hand was reaching inside of his suit jacket.
The bodyguard was not fast enough. With his left hand, Jack grabbed the bodyguard's right wrist and shook it, causing the gun to drop on the ground. With his right hand, Jack slapped the bodyguard across the face, four times and very quickly. The bodyguard's lip cracked, his cheeks began to swell, and his nose began to bleed. He was also quite stunned.
Jack bent down and picked up the pistol. The pistol was a Beretta .38 automatic. Jack pulled the clip out of the handle and tossed it into the bushes behind the club. There was one round in the chamber, and Jack fired that into the air. And then he handed the pistol back to the bodyguard.
"What were you going to kill with this? Rabbits?" said Jack, sneering. "Get in your car, little boy, and go home before you get really hurt."
Fat Man chose to scream at the bodyguard, and then stomped towards Jack. Jack gave him a very short, sharp jab in the nose, which broke it. Fat Man staggered back, smeared the blood over his face with his fingers, and looked at Jack.
A bouncer, hearing the shot, popped out of the door. He had seen this before. Some fool customer makes a date with a girl, and someone else comes along and takes the girl away. He saw Fat Man and his bodyguard bleeding, and the quiet biker from the rear of the bar smiling at the girl. And the girl was, quite obviously, interested in the biker.
The bouncer stepped down to the bodyguard.
"Hey, man," he said quietly, "get your boss in the car and get out of here before this guy really hurts you. No harm, no foul. Okay? We don't like cops."
The bodyguard nodded, helped Fat Man into the back of the Mercedes, and they headed off into the night. Jack smiled sweetly at the girl and escorted her to his Harley. He mounted the bike, kicked over the V-twin, and motioned the girl to get on. He spoke to her, gently asking, "Where to?"
"My place," the girl responded. She settled in behind Jack, hugging his chest tightly, and resting her head on his back, her face turned to the right. Jack revved, and then punched the Harley, guiding the big bike out of the parking lot and onto the main highway.
The girl would lift her head up every so often, and give Jack directions, saying, simply, "Left. Now right."
They ended up at a small but neat apartment complex. The couple dismounted from the bike, and Jack parked it and killed the engine. They did not speak. The girl led Jack into a small and tidy one bedroom. She pulled the drape over the double doors that led to her balcony. She dimmed the lights and lit some perfumed candles. Jack asked her, softly and tenderly, to kill the lights. She smiled and said yes. Only the aroma and flickers of the ten candles filled the living room.
The girl looked sweetly at Jack, and asked, "How do you want me?"
Jack hit her with a warm smile before answering. "That pretty lingerie you were dancing in was nice."
The girl smiled. She loved lingerie. She headed into her bedroom, undressed, folding everything neatly and putting it away, and put on the matching purple lace bra and thong. She popped into the bathroom to check her hair and makeup, was very satisfied, and then slowly walked to the sofa and sat next to Jack.
Jack smiled, and began to tenderly stroke her left arm and softly kiss the girl. He continued his stroking, and moved to her chin, and then her left cheek. Meanwhile, his right arm embraced her. Jack began to kiss, and then nibble on her neck, holding her tightly. The girl softly giggled, and then moaned. Then Jack bit. Not hard, or vicious, but a soft bite into the girl's blood vessel. He began to feed.
Jack did not kill when he fed, unless it was a pimp, drug dealer, or some other low-life. Jack merely took what he required, which was a bit less than a pint. When he was first embraced, in 1704, it was easy to dispose of bodies. In 2004, near a modern city, it was not so easy. So, he only took what he needed and left his prey alive. He could always come back for more at a later date.
Jack finished his feeding. The girl had fainted. Jack softly whispered into her left ear, "Sleep, pretty one." He picked her up and carried her into her bedroom. He removed her lingerie, neatly folding it at the base of the bed. He then put her under the bedclothes, tucking her in. He removed a small vial from his left pocket and smeared the cream it contained over the puncture marks. Come morning, the girl would only remember a very satisfying night. The cream would cause the punctures to heal to two small red marks.
Satisfied, Jack went back into the living room and blew out the candles. He left himself out; being sure the door was locked behind him. He hopped on the Harley and headed for his sanctuary.