Tigress

Gunnar felt odd. He was a bit winded from his impromptu session with Miss Hooker and Dr. Hammer, and secretly daunted at the prospect of plunging into the life of a hustler -- and yet the session had simply aroused his libido. No sooner had he satisfied one sexual fix than he needed to satisfy a new one.

He checked his watch. It was time for the matinee at his favorite club, Tigress.

Gunnar walked through the city streets and did a slight double take as he approached Tigress. He remembered the club as simply an extra entrance to an old hotel, the type that had been known as a "flop house" in generations past. Now there was a granduer to Tigress that reminded him of some venerable old movie house.

"Welcome back, sir!" said, of all people, a uniformed doorman.

"Good to be back -- I think." Gunnar paid the cover charge and entered.

Gunnar was impressed by the inside, which was much more ritzy and upholstered than ever before. The stage, once fairly cramped, seemed three times bigger.

He sat at the bar, feeling awfully disoriented. How had so mcuh remodeling been managed in little more than a month of his being away?

"It's so good to see you back, baby!"

"Why, thanks, I -- "

Gunnar froze as he turned to the woman addressing him. The bartenders had always been pretty, but this one was drop dead stunning. They had never been flat, but this one was bodaciously bosomy, her chesty charms straining the Tigress logo emblazoned across her tight low-cut top like a sports franchise.

"I'm Brandy!" the spellbinding stranger introduced herself. "What'll you have, baby?" She winked and leaned closer. "I mean -- to drink!" She giggled naughtily.

All his life he had wanted to ask for it -- so he gave it a try. "My usual."

"Sure thing, honey!"

Gunnar was impressed as Brandy did in fact, for the first time in his going to bars, serve him his usual.

"Wow, you're sohhh huge now!" Brandy admired. "The R-A-I-P did that to you?"

Apparently, his story was pretty well known. "Yeah, I'm seven feet tall now -- it's been a bitch getting a whole new warderobe."

"Hi, Brandy! You know, I'd love a martini -- but I seemed to be strapped for cash!"

Gunnar was impressed by the tall lovely lady, he guessed a new house girl, whose body strained against her mere slip of costuming vaguely suggesting a dress and planted her ripe taut ass in the seat right next to him. "I'll get that for you."

"Oh, thank you!" She turned to him, and he was impressed all over again by her simply mountainous bosom. "I'm Candy!"

Gunnar sipped at his drink. Brandy and Candy were hanging on his next word -- and he had no idea what it was.