Shelton Family Saga

Chapter 45

Soul Snatcher Delilah

The Humpty Dumpty Rump Roaster was the hypest strip club in the city. Aspiring porn stars were all over the place, and three of the most scantily clad trashy looking females were working the stage. The ugliest one of them had huge boobs that were way too big for her frame. She wasn't a small girl by any means, and her knockers were massively oversized; but, it was obvious by the way they hung low and jiggled they were natural, and not big balls of silicone. She had silver stud piercings all over her face, and on top of that she wore the tackiest red lipstick. She wore a white racerback tank top that read, I fuck married men across the front. She looked every bit as ratchet as her shirt stated. Someone whistled to her as if she were a dog, and called out "Yo Connie, get your ass over here, hoe!" On cue, she cheerily bounced her ratchet self over to the side of the stage and proceeded to make out with another female. Gathered stage side were a group of married men that didn't even have the decency to take their wedding rings off. They drooled as they watched the ratchet gutter whore, with one of them getting so intrigued by her, he offered to walk her to her car. Connie was the type of female known as a soul snatcher. There were masses of them inside the strip club, and their only goal in life was to find themselves a "sugar daddy". An unsuspecting male they considered an easy target, and they considered all men easy targets. They didn't give a damn about the men, their lives, or their wives. The Soul Snatchers all had a ploy to become somebody's mistress, and get as many men as possible to finance their lifestyle. Poor dumb schmucks the men were. All of the men they encountered were willing to throw away their whole marriage and years of trust with their wives for a secret rendezvous with a soul snatcher. Still inside against the far wall in a long darkened strip, was a luxe white satin chaise lounge that stretched from the end of the wall all the way across to the other end. In blinking lights above it was a neon sign that twinkled the words, The 69 line. The wall was 69 feet long as was the satin chaise lounge which is where lap dances were being given. Men were lined up across the satin lounge seat with naked girls giving them the thrill of their lives, or at least the thrill of the early morning.

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With her head held high and shoulders thrust back, she effortlessly glided across the room in her silk pants suit and pumps as if she owned the place. With her wealth she very well could've owned it and more. She stopped midway by the bar and glanced at her Patek Philippe. 1:41 a.m. She then sashayed up to the stage and whipped out ten crisp big head Benjamin Franklins. She spread the bills in a fan and held them inconspicuously chest level. The girl with the biggest booty that had everyones attention, now had her own attention focused on the female standing front and center of the stage holding the money fan. She turned around backwards and moonwalked her way center stage. Then all the while making her booty clap non stop, she sultrily back-stepped to the stages edge where she did a back bend and was face to face with the money fan. Holding the money fan to shield her face, Vanessa leaned in almost cheek to cheek with the big booty stripper and whispered something in her ear. The big booty girl lowered herself down into the splits, and Vanessa stuffed the wad of cash into the skinny strings that doubled as the strippers bra. The big booty girl then rolled over on her stomach and still in the splits, she drew her legs up underneath her as she popped herself up and exited the stage. Vanessa followed her. Once inside the dressing room, Big Booty hurriedly ripped the strings off her body and took off with a quickness toward a doorless shower that was stuffed in the back corner. Vanessa had to elbow her way across the room, following the big booty stripper intensely. On her way to the shower, Vanessa spotted a tall stack of neatly folded fluffy beach towels and grabbed one. At the shower, Big Booty asked, "So how many men are we talking?"

"Five," Vanessa said matter of factly, as she handed the towel to Big Booty.

"And, what do they do?"