Into The Land of Punt

Four

Martin carried himself into the bar and poured himself a vodka, all that the Russian mafia had, and drank it. A hot steaming lady walked in with a sexy suit that hugged her perfect body and held her ass seductively out for others to see.

Her huge eyes hidden behind round glasses and pouty full lips made her look not only beautiful but smart. He put the glass down and almost whistled, the girl was almost the personification of his dream girl. But he was in hot soup and kidding around didn’t feel like an option.

He wondered how his interest led to thirty million, but it definitely didn’t make sense.

He turned away from her as she looked around the private bar and swallowed the shot in one gulp. He then coughed as the alcohol burnt  his esophagus. The woman saw him and looked at her phone screen. She confirmed the picture with a soft frown, she walked towards Martin and sat next to him.

“you’re in the wrong  club.” He told her without even greeting. He felt his head become a bit woozy from the strong liquor and he closed his eyes, to try to recalibrate his vision.

Did he drink the right one or was the drink super absorptive?

“No, I am in the right one.” She responded with the sexiest voice he had ever heard. She passed him her business card, and he looked at it. WIC? W E C. WHAC? The words on the business card started moving as he watched it. This can’t be right.

“Lisa Mon-afield, Head of archaeological digs, WIC incorporated. I came to offer you a job.” She said so matter-of-factly he thought he had a suit on for a moment. He quickly brushed the idea of a suit on aside and looked at the girl who was distorting.

“I thought I told your boss, no.”

“Well, you did, and I wanted to know why, clearly someone of your caliber is wasting talent and skill drinking himself to oblivion.”

“Well, I do not think the company you work for can handle my conditions or wishes.”

“Let me hear them and I will see how we can work it out.”

“Okay, give me a blowjob.” He looked at her.

“Okay I’ll… what!?”

“Give me a good head and I’ll give it a though. If not, well, you can just suck my balls. Or we can f**k off.”

“Excuse me?”

“With the way your ass fits on that suit, darling, you can just sit here, and I’ll do the rest. Swear you won’t feel it.”

“Hello?” she waved her fingers in front of his face and he touched her hands.

“Damn girl, your finger would fit nicely around my d**k, don’t worry about them being short, halfway across, they all fine! Say your momma really blessed you with those t**s, Say they real?”

She moved back away from him wondering how did the conversation take this… turn? Was he drunk? She wondered. He took another shot and put the glass aside. He looked at her and blinked twice. A cocky careless smile crossed his face.

“Hey! Beautiful, I don’t care what you are selling, if it’s this piece of the cake, I want all of it.” He raised his eyebrows and bit his lower lips.

Ew! She looked at him disgusted and walked out of the bar after telling him he was disgusting. The bartender clapped his hands and he drowned on another shot.

This alcohol has got to be something else. How did he get drunk on one shot? He wondered as he stole a look at the guy next to him. The guy had almost a hundred empty shots and he was not drunk at all. How did he do that? He was instantly drunk at only one shot. How was that possible?

As he walked out of the bar leaving his tab opened, the bartender smiled wickedly and put away the used glass. He typed a message on his phone and put it away. A second later, a delivery report rang on his cellphone. The message, “He’s drunk, again, and the Russian mafia is on his ass. ” was delivered and opened.

He walked out of the bar and followed him.