Seven Women — Michael Hemmingson

"I've been sitting at the counter of this bar for almost an hour, now on my third drink, when I notice one of the women, in a group of women, saunter in and sit in a booth. There are five of them, all in their mid-twenties to early thirties. I don't want to seem too conspicuous. I try to verify my suspicion from the mirror at the bar. There are too many bottles in the way. I turn around and look. Yes, it's her -- my ex-wife. She sees me looking, no expression on her face, quickly goes back to her four friends -- smiling and laughing, as if I don't exist."

Say you're a private eye and, using your skills and techniques, you probe and pry the intimate sensual details from a group of women. Each woman has her own sordid, enticing, and kinky past -- including your ex-wife, who has some doozies to tell

Get the scoop, gumshoe, and don't let it show -- you're a tough guy, and tough guys don't cry