6 comments/ 27907 views/ 0 favorites Spenser for Hire: Love & Need By: The Mutt I was in my office with the windows open and my feet on the desk, watching the secretaries high-heeling it across Berkeley and Boylston. It was short-skirt weather, and I was entertaining myself between cases. It's great not having a job, if you ain't hungry, as someone once said. Problem was I was hungry. I was thinking about heading home when I saw Hawk coming effortlessly down the crowded sidewalk. He seemed to push a bubble of air ahead of him that cleared his path. More than one of the secretaries turned to watch him pass. He was wearing a linen suit, purple t-shirt and ostrich cowboy boots. The afternoon sun gleamed off his shaved, black skull. He was carrying a brown paper bag. I hoped for donuts, but would have settled for filet mignon. Hawk came into the office without knocking and set a bottle of Iron Horse champagne on the desk. Hawk drank champagne the way other people drank bottled water, but I had never seen it affect him. I had never seen anything affect him. "Spen-sah," he said. "Are we celebrating?" "We are," he said. "The return of Big Band Swing?" "Ducats, Babe. Two court side at the Garden." "Who did you have to kill to get those?" "Nobody be missed," he said. "Now?" I said. "Unless you rather be sitting here waiting for a crime to rear its ugly head." "My place first. I need to change clothes. I'll make you a sandwich." "Deal. Garden Hot Dogs not what they used to be." "If they ever were." Hawk was still wearing his Oakleys when we came into my apartment. I had just dropped my keys on the counter when Susan Silverman came in from the bedroom. She had two wine glasses crossed between the fingers of her left hand and a bottle of wine in her right. She was wearing a garter belt and black stockings. And nothing else. She was gloriously, magnificently naked. The sight of her hit me the way it always does. It took me a second to even remember that Hawk was there. I waited for her to squeal and run back into the bedroom. She did neither. She crossed her arms over her heavy, low-slung breasts. "Hello, Hawk." "Susan." He had a way of saying her name that sounded like Barry White reciting Shakespeare. Otherwise he did not show any reaction. Hawk rarely showed reaction to anything. But I didn't need to be a master sleuth to see the tent he was pitching in his thin trousers. It could have housed the Ringling Brothers. Though Hawk had known Susan almost as long as I had, I doubt he had even seen her in her bathing suit, never mind this. She looked at him for a long moment, got a little smirk to the side of her full mouth and said, "I had better get another glass." She turned and headed for the cabinet. Hawk turned to me. "Should I be leaving?" he said. "I believe Susan would be disappointed if you did." "You okay with this?" "I don't know. This seems a bit out of character for Susan." "It do," he said. "I trust you'll behave like a gentleman, tent pole not withstanding?" "Ah control mah jungle urgents, Massah. The exquisiteness of the lady not withstanding." "Then I think we should let Susan be Susan, or whoever she is today," I said. Susan poured wine and I got some turkey, Colby cheese and sweet mustard from the fridge. Hawk sat at the counter, his shades still on. Susan stood close to Hawk when she handed him his wine, close enough that her large, dark nipple brushed his arm. Then she walked behind me and hugged my chest with the arm that held my glass. When I took the wine, her hand slid down my belly to my crotch. She weighed what she found there. "Happy to see me?" she said. "You could say that." "Of course with you, that could be a pistol in your pocket," she said. "Why aren't you at work?" I said. "I had two patients cancel this afternoon. I thought I would give you a surprise." "Surprise is not the first word that springs to my mind." "Shock?" "Susan, you wouldn't even go skinny-dipping when we went to the mountains." "Yes, and you told me I was being foolish." "Foolish be an Irishman going naked in cold water," Hawk chimed in. Susan laughed. "Oh, don't believe all you hear about the Irish Curse, " she said. "I've never needed more from him, and at times I've wished for less. I'll bet you've never had a woman let you anywhere near her little bunghole, have you, Hawk? Big as you are." "You be pro-petuating an ethnic stereotype?" he said. "Don't be silly. What do you think your dates and I talk about after you and Spenser go chasing off?" "Best not to think about what women talk about. Nothing good come of it," he said. "Of course, Spenser has seen you in the locker room many times," she said. "He run home with a full report?" "I asked." If Hawk was uncomfortable, he wasn't showing it. Neither was Susan. I, on the other hand, felt like I had walked into a Bertolluci film. But I couldn't deny what I was feeling. The casualness of Susan's nakedness and the erotic conversation had me as randy as I could remember being since I was teenager. Susan moved about the room, chatting with Hawk about his girlfriends and their tastes. The last time we double dated, Hawk was accompanied by a Professor of English named Maria Theresa. She, like Susan, had thick, black hair. Susan stood and posed in front of Hawk, her hands framing her tangled muff. "Was Maria Theresa as hairy as me?" "She shave," he said. "Oh, pooh. I only shave the parts that show outside my bathing suit. Which is quite a bit. Jewish Princess, you know." "I know." "I think it looks sexy. Spenser agrees. Especially from the back." Having said this, she turned away from Hawk, set her feet apart, bowed her back and lifted her ass to him. Thick, black curls caressed the insides of her cheeks. The darkness between her legs was dense and inviting. She reached back and gripped her buttocks, easing them apart. Her kinky hairs encircled her sex like a wreath. Hawk let out a low groan. Susan whipped around. She had a triumphant smile on her face. "At last! I was wondering if I would have to hit you with a brick," she laughed. She walked to him, knelt before him and unzipped his pants. As she pulled his cock free, she looked across to me, silently mouthing words. "I have never loved you more," she said. Then she swallowed his thick, black cock. She got only three quarters of him down her throat before she had to stop. She withdrew him slowly, revealing his gleaming rod inch by inch by inch. Hawk took off his shades and looked over at me. "We good?" he said. "Yes," I said. Susan looked up at him. She licked his shaft from its base to its tip. She giggled, then stood. "Would you two gentlemen be so kind as to escort me to the bedroom?" "We'd be fools not to," I said. Spenser for Hire: Love & Need Ch. 02 "Would you two gentlemen be so kind as to escort me to the bedroom?" Susan said. "We'd be fools not to," I said. Hawk didn't say a word. He just started towards the bedroom, his cock still jutting from the front of his pants. It would have looked silly on any other man. I have never seen Hawk look silly. He could make a foam cowboy hat look stylish. Susan stopped at the bedroom door and put a her small hand on Hawk's broad chest. "Wait just a second. Something's not right," she said. "Yes, Missy." Susan gave his big cock a quick squeeze and walked back the way she came. Hawk leaned against the wall by the door, watching Susan's womanly ass. I was watching it too. She went back to the kitchen and took a heavy, glass tumbler from the cabinet and filled it with ice. She took the bottle of Jameson's from the top of the refrigerator and poured three fingers worth. She walked back to me, her big breasts swaying, an exaggerated swivel to her hips. She took my wine glass and handed me the Irish whiskey. "Somehow, wine just doesn't seem right for this, " she said. "I'm not sure there are rules for this sort of thing." "Goody," she said, "We can make it up as we go along." She glided into the bedroom. Hawk made an 'after you' gesture to me. As I walked past him, he made an show of swinging his cock out of the way so I could pass. I looked down at it. It thrust out of his fly a good ten inches. I could have hung six of my suits from it. He flashed me a big grin. "Prodigious Johnson," he said. "King of the Delta Blues?" I said. "Electric Boogaloo." Susan called from the bedroom. "I can leave you two boys alone, if you'd like." "Lady sound eager," Hawk said. "Hell, who wouldn't be," I said. We went in. Susan guided me to the chair by the window. She had turned it to face the bed. She kissed me long and deep, then sat me in the chair. I took a long pull of the whiskey. She crawled onto the bed from the foot of it, slinking like a big cat. The hair between her cheeks was dense and black. She flopped on her back onto the pillow, as much of a flop as a lady a graceful as she can flop. "Ouch," she said. She sat up and rubbed her head. She slid her hand under the pillow and pulled out my .38 snubnose. "Sorry," I said. "You can put it on the bedstand." "Why do you keep a gun under the pillow?" she said. "If I keep it on top it leaves a dent in my face." She rolled her big eyes at me and dropped the pistol in the waste basket. Then she sat back against the headboard and looked at Hawk. "I want you naked," she said. "Take off your clothes and bring me that magnificent cock." Hawk disrobed the way he did everything, with an effortless grace. Susan's fingers toyed with her lower lip as she watched him. When he was naked, he stood beside the bed, letting her take a long look. His body was lean and black. There didn't seem to be an ounce of fat on him. His ebon skin was tight over his muscles. His arms were large and strong, the kind of muscle you get from work, not pumping machines. His eyes never left her as he moved onto the bed. She cupped his big balls in her hand and guided him to her until he was kneeling in front of her, straddling her body. His cock was as long and thick as the cardboard tube in a roll of paper towels. I had never seen one larger, but I don't watch porn. It jutted toward her mouth. She licked her lips like a wanton in a melodrama. She gave me a lascivious wink and went to work. I squirmed a little in my chair and made the necessary adjustments to my own swelling tool. I took another sip of my whiskey. It was cool and smokey. Susan was right. This was the kind of drink you need when you watch your lover sucking another man's cock. I knew how skilled she was. I knew Hawk was sailing towards heaven. Susan prided herself on her skill as an orator. She knew that Jewish American Princesses weren't supposed to do such things. They certainly weren't supposed to enjoy it. She took that as a challenge. She got a wicked thrill from it, so I encouraged her whenever she wanted to practice. My pleasure was secondary, of course. One of the advantages to being average-sized is that you get better head. At least that is what we average guys tell ourselves. Susan did seem to be a bit intimidated by Hawk's length. Hawk stroked her thick hair with his far hand. Courteous of him, not to block my view. Susan played with his rod like a toy, weighing it in her hand, rubbing it against her cheek. She kissed and licked it, tasting it like candy. She slid her wet mouth along its length. She kissed his hairless balls. Then she took him in her mouth. She sucked him in, stopping about halfway down his long shaft. She took him in and out, her head bobbing. She stoked his taut buttocks and dragged her long nails over his smooth, black skin. A trickle of spit rolled down her chin. After a time, she pulled him from between her lips and took a few gasping breaths. She looked up at him. Her eyes were watery. "I don't think I can take you all. I'm sorry," she said. "You doing just fine," he said. "I want to take you all the way down my throat," she panted. "No. No. My turn anyway." He caught her under her arms and lifted her without any apparent strain. Her body slid up from between his legs until he held her above him, her low-slung breasts in his face. He put his mouth over her large, dark nipple and began to nuzzle her. She let out a low moan. Susan is not a small woman, and Hawk's biceps grew hard and the cables of his arms rose from the effort of holding her. He kissed and suckled her, pressing his face into her cleavage. Then he turned his body and tossed her onto the bed. He caught her long legs in his strong hands and spread them wide. He lowered his face into the thick tangle of curls between them. Susan's head hung over the end of the bed, her hair cascading down like black water. From my chair across the room I could smell the scent of her arousal. From where Hawk was, it must have been intoxicating. Susan gets very wet when she is excited. Very wet. Hawk lapped at the pool of her passion like it was an oasis in the desert. Susan's head lolled back and forth. She growled deep in her throat. She clutched her big breasts in her hands and pinched her own nipples hard. She bit her lower lip. Her flat belly rose and fell. In my chair, I was perspiring. I rubbed the cold glass across my brow. I swallowed down the rest of the whiskey, enjoying the burn in my throat. I was as hard as Chinese Calculus. Susan had always been very energetic and very uninhibited in bed, but she was also very quiet. Now, though, she was getting loud. "Oh. Ah. Aaaaaaaa. Gaaaaa," she moaned. Her body began to buck and writhe, almost as if she was trying to escape the pleasure she was obviously feeling. Then she slapped both of her hands onto Hawk's bald head and ground his face into her center. Her back arched and she screamed. Once. Twice. Three times. Then she pushed his head away. "Fuck me. Fuck me hard." "Yes, Missy," he said. Susan smacked him on top of his head. "Susan. My name is Susan. Call me Susan." "Yes, Susan." He rose up above her, his face gleaming with her gush. She turned on the bed and got on all fours facing me. Hawk knelt behind her. His large hands glided over her ass the way a carpenter feels a table top he is about to sand. Susan lifted her rump to him like a cat. "Hard. Hard," she said. "Ram your cock in." He heard and obeyed. He plowed every inch into her with one thrust. Her head flew back. Her eyes shot wide open. Her jaw dropped and she shrieked. "Oh......fuck.........meeeeee." Her nails clawed at the sheets. Hawk pounded her hard, as ordered. He drew back until just the head of his cock was still inside, then thrust forward until his hips slammed against her ass. Her whole body bucked forward at each assault. She had to clutch at the bed to keep from being pushed off. Hawk's eyes stared straight down, watching his long, black rod slide in out from between her wet, purple lips. Susan's eyes were on me. She stared at me with animal lust. There was something close to madness in her eyes. Sweat gleamed on Hawk's bald skull. His breathing, for the first time, grew rapid. His thrusts grew even more furious. Susan was screaming so loud now I worried that the neighbors might call the cops. Then Hawk let out a loud, "Hah!" He clutched her at the waist. He drew his long cock out of her and it jutted up like a mast. He pressed against her, his cock caught between his belly and her ass, squeezed between her cheeks. He threw his head back just as the first blast of jism shot from his dripping cock head. Rope after rope of cum spattered Susan's back, her ass, her hair. Then he groaned and fell back onto the bed. Susan threw herself onto the floor. She lay there like a puppet with no strings. "Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God," she gasped. "Hawk. My name is Hawk. Call me Hawk." With what little energy she had left, Susan burst into laughter. She crawled to me and put her head in my lap. I stroked her hair. When I looked up, Hawk was dressed. "Get you another Irish, Irish?" he said. "Least you can do." "No, let me," Susan said. She rose, took my glass and left the room. Hawk and I were silent. We could hear the ice cubes clink in the glass from the other room. Then we heard Susan talking on the phone. There didn't seem to be much to say, and Hawk was never one for unnecessary words. But it seemed that something needed to be said. "Things gonna be different now. Between us," he said. "Not worse. Just different," I said. "You and Susan?" "Susan and I are immutable." "You are that," he said. "You going to catch the end of the game?" "Be best, I think." "Me, too." Susan came back into the room. She had straightened her hair. There was a sheen of sweat on her body. She looked as beautiful as I had ever seen her. She kissed Hawk on the mouth. It was somehow more intimate than anything I had just seen. "I ordered in Italian, "she said. "I'm to frazzled to cook." "Since when you need an excuse not to cook?" Hawk said. "You're a beast," she said. "When you want me to be." She smiled. He kissed her forehead and left. She sat in my lap. She felt my hard cock against her ass. "Oooh, I think you enjoyed the show," she said. "Susan, I..." "Hush," she said. She kissed me the way lovers kiss. I put my arms around her and held her like she would turn to smoke if I let her go. Her mouth was hot and her hands explored my face. She took my drink and took a small sip. Then she lay her head against my chest. We sat quietly for a long time. Then the doorbell rang. Susan jumped up with a giggle. Susan seldom giggled. "That must be the Italian I ordered," she said. She grabbed her robe and trotted into the other room, her breasts bouncing. I looked out the window. The street was quiet. Brown leaves chased their tails. I heard the door open and close. "Italian's here," she called. She walked back into the bedroom. Rita Fiore walked in behind her.