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I Could Never Say No to a Pretty Dame

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Wolfman Lou

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« on: 03:28:53 AM 05/15/17 »
I took a sip of my whiskey through the thick fog of smoke, my elbows on the bar, trying to forget the day. Detective work is never easy; no aspect of it is, but the sights. That's what really gets to you. Not solving a case, yeah, sure. It's remembering that crime scene though that makes it so rough. I've seen some shit in my days. Damn near took off my hat to puke in a few times, but today. Triple homicide. Left crucified. Meant to represent the Holy Trinity from what I gathered. A dad, his son, and a reported missing man. We had a real sick son of a bitch on our hands. What I couldn't piece though, is this an omen or someone pissed at the church? Another swig of scotch and my head was spinning more from the case than the booze. I hate this job as much as I love it. As I killed the tumbler off and tapped the bar like I needed a hit in blackjack for another Johnny Walker, I looked over and saw this dame eyeing me. Blonde hair and crystal blues with a face like Myrna Loy. A real knock-out. I faked my best smile at her and started sipping my new glass. She grinned and blushed. Now my mind was retaken. The hell would a dame like her want with a beat-up old dick like me?

She stood up and walked towards the stool one away from me. I played it cool, stared forward and sipped my Scottish medicine. "Another Tom Collins please" she said to the bartender. I kept playing it like she wasn't an angel fell to Earth and kept my focus on the vodka bottles behind the bar. "Hey handsome. Why so glum?" she sing-songed to me. "Bad day. Real bad day" I responded. I had steel nerves, but this gal had me nervous. I'd talked to dames more times than I can count, but this one. There was something about her. Maybe it was because she was the company I needed, maybe it was her looks, but ol' James McGillicuddy, former Vice turned Homicide dick couldn't take it.

"I could make it all better for you" she spoke, giggling a bit after. I froze a bit, and said "I don't know what could make it all better, sweetheart. I might be better left to my own devices" I said, shaking my tumbler. "Nonsense. Let's go back to my place. We'll have a great time." I paused. I could use some time with a dame. And I was never one to say no to a pretty dame. "You know?" I said after my last sip, "Okay. Let us get one more drink in us, and I'll do it." She finished her Tom Collins, ordered another, and I got another scotch, and we were off.

We walked and talked going to her apartment. Her name was Josie. She was an absolute doll. We held hands walking drunkenly through the Boston streets, and she stole a few kisses on my cheek. The case melted from my intoxicated brain. Not just from the liquor, but this wonderful lady.

We got to her apartment and she mixed and poured us some Tom Collins. I guess it was her drink. We sipped them and chatted on her couch. "So what do you do?" she inquired. "Well, I'm a police detective. That was where my bad day came from. What do you do?" "I'm a seamstress, but you, a detective! You must have stories upon stories. What was your case today, if I can ask?" "Well, I can't really, but I trust you. Some sick fuck, pardon my language, strung up a kid, his father, and a missing person. The Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost in my eyes." "I'm sorry I asked! How grizzly! You definitely need taking care of."

She kissed me, and I kissed back. We kissed for minutes. She tasted like limes and flowers. I'm guessing a combination of the Tom Collins and just her natural taste. She stood up, and come hithered me to her room. She peeled off my suit and I stripped her of her dress. She pulled out my handcuffs, waggling them in front of me. I guess she was a kink. I didn't say no, and she handcuffed me to her headboard. She shot me a gesture that meant "Back in five." I layed on her bed, nervous and excited. I'd been with handcuffers before, but this felt different.

She came back, silken underpants and a corset. She looked like a meal. She straddled me, and kissed me deep. I kissed her back. It must of been the best kiss of my life. Then, I felt the knife plunge into my stomach. "You. You are Judas. You spilled your secrets." I screamed in pain. "What the fuck are you talking about?!" "YOU. YOU ARE THE JUDAS! You sold them out. You know too much!" I laid, pleading, but it was too late. I felt myself bleeding out. Well, I never could say no to a pretty dame.
« Last Edit: 04:53:43 AM 05/15/17 by Wolfman Lou »