Reports from the Dead Museum: Bounty

Bounty

There was a lot of loot lying on the bar. She had paid for her drink with a fifty and left the change sitting there waiting for its moment of conversion. I said, "what are you drinking?"
"Cranberry and Absolut, and enough of it to knock me into the next big week.
She was wearing a long white blouse that fitted her form snugly. Before I had sat next to her, she had been wearing a smart navy suit jacket that covered up her lusciousness; now it lay draped over the back of her stool. I could plainly see her bra underneath as she earnestly continued the conversation. "What do you do with your time when you're not wasting it here?" She asked this suddenly, glaring at me sidelong. I was on the spot.
"I play the noodle." I told her. She didn't imagine further as to what I meant and I didn't venture to explain the intricacies of pasta boiling either. Instead, I picked up a small slice of her long hair from where it lay and slowly wrapped it around my fingers.
"How'd you like to wrap your cock with that?" she said, then exploded into a brief paroxysm of laughter before I had a chance to reply. I made a small braid and secured its end with a paper clip that chance had left in my inside jacket pocket. As I removed the paper clip from my pocket, I inadvertently snagged a couple
rubbers that were lurking in there as well. She did her rapid fire laugh again at this sight and plucked them from my grasp. It was just as well. I needed both hands to tie the braid. She noted the date code and and snickered as I finished up.
I saw now that her finger was bare.
"Not getting much lately?" she intrigued.
"I don't think I'll break my streak tonight," I replied, and left abruptly, but not before giving her my card.