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Investigating

By: 2Xwidderwoman



 A very heartfelt Thank You to Erik Thread for his skilled editing. His work makes your reading pleasure better.

*

Even with the air conditioner running full blast, the late July heat seemed to filter through the walls. Every time one of the children opened or closed the door to the rear yard, Gail felt the heat hit her back. Maybe she shouldn't have started this project today. The chemical sizing used in the fabric during the weaving process was beginning to sting her eyes. However, Mrs. Wagner wanted the denim skirt to wear to the big dance on Saturday night and was willing to pay for the rush job. Gail could certainly use the extra money. The electric bill would be a killer this month and next month's bill would be even higher.

One of the children stood beside the sewing machine tapping her on the shoulder, "Miss Gail, Miss Gail, Bobby fell down. His knee is bleeding."

Turning off the machine, Gail stood to tend to yet another minor emergency. "Okay, I'm coming. Let's go see about Bobby's knee."

"Miss Gail, why is blood red?"

Gail chuckled at the child's simple question. "I guess so we can see it easily and fix the place it's coming out of."

After the ritual of comforting a crying four-year-old, Gail washed, applied a spray-on antibiotic, and rewarded Bobby's injury with a blue adhesive bandage. She sent all five children back to the rear yard for a few more minutes so they could forget the injury. Their energetic play would tire them and she might get all of them to take a good afternoon nap. 

As she closed the door, she noticed a long, silver Crown Victoria stop at the neighbor's house. She had finished sewing the back seam of the denim skirt when the front doorbell rang. It was so much a part of her concern for the children's safety that she automatically turned off the sewing machine when she left it that she did it without thinking and went to the front door.

Children seem to have some kind of internal radar. As she opened the front door, five pairs of children's eyes stood behind Gail and heard the man on her front porch ask, "Gail Grove?"

Through the locked screen door, Gail spoke to the stranger, "Yes sir. I'm Gail Grove."

"Miss Grove, I'm Carlton Conyers. I have a few questions to ask you. May I come inside?"

"No sir. Can you tell me why you need to question me?"

"I'm a detective and..."

"Private or police?"

"Alright," the man nodded as he reached into his rear pocket and pulled out a leather wallet, opened it and held it up for her to see the badge and the identification.

Gail unlocked the screen door and held out her hand, "May I," indicating she wanted to hold the wallet. 

As she examined his credentials, he examined her, from the top of her head covered with a cap of curly short brown hair, all the way down her slightly square face with somewhat sunken cheeks, dark brown eyes, and a narrow nose. He continued looking down the long slender neck, and broad shoulders, across the moderate-sized bust and the flat plane of her stomach. Neatly hemmed denim shorts covered her well rounded hips and half of the thighs of her long slender legs. She was wearing short socks and comfortable looking, well-worn walking shoes. His experience permitted him to guess her age was probably in her early twenties. She was about 5'8" and weighed about 115 to 125. This young woman was pretty in a plain way, not really beautiful and she had a serious look in her eyes, which indicated intelligence and a quick mind. 

"You certainly are careful."

"I have to be." Gail answered looking down at the children collected around her. She opened the door wider for the man to walk into her house. Amid the questions the children were asking the detective, she smiled as she half-way listened to her little people discuss if he was with NYPD, did he have a gun, and why didn't he have lights on top of his car.

"Is this just one or two questions or longer?" Gail asked over the next child's voice questioning about why the policeman wasn't wearing a uniform.

"I'd like at least an hour of your time," the detective responded. He looked around the small living room as Gail watched and raised his eyebrows at all the children crowded around them. 

Gail lifted her chin, "I'm legal," she nodded toward her framed license for a child care facility she kept on the wall beside the front door. She might have raised her hand to point toward the frame, but children clasped both hands firmly, tugging to get her attention. He turned his head and nodded.

Above the chattering of the children, Gail spoke to the man as he followed her through the house. "It won't get any quieter. You can come back in about an hour or you can wait. It will take less time, if you help."

He raised his voice above an argument over a red or a blue plastic plate Gail was handing out. "Help?"

"It's lunch time, Detective." Gail smiled and laughed lightly. "When they're chewing, they don't talk as much."

Getting all five children sitting down with their color coordinated plates, cups, and forks, and then dishing out small chunks of fruit, cheese, and meat sticks took more time than Carlton could have imagined. Before he realized it, his suit jacket was off and he was showing five pairs of wide eyes a gun hanging from his shoulder holster and talking about gun safety. A few minutes later, he was reviewing a few often repeated phrases from a children's stranger danger video he remembered giving to his sister.

As she worked at getting all the children fed, Gail occasionally glanced at Detective Carlton Conyers to examine him, much as he had done to her when he walked in the front door. He looked taller than the six foot two inch height shown on his identification. Perhaps it was because he seemed to fill so much of the small kitchen with his broad shoulders and muscular build. Yet, he moved with the ease of a man younger than his physical age, which she knew from his identification, was forty-three. His closely cut dark hair was beginning to show a small amount of executive gray at the temples. His dark brown eyes were quick and observant of everything happening around him.

After seeing him bend over to add more fruit to one of the children's plates, Gail turned back to filling a small cup with juice. She was smiling thinking about how his suit pants fit across his tight butt.

Then restroom breaks, washing hands, ten small feet were going down the hall to the middle bedroom. Another fifteen minutes of a short story and the children grew quiet and were soon falling asleep.

When she was back in the kitchen, Carlton had the table cleared and the dishes in the sink. Without showing surprise, Gail commented, "I imagine your wife is a very lucky woman. How many children do you have?"

"I'm not married, Miss Grove. I have a grown niece and a nephew in college. My experience with small children was a long time ago."

"Gail, please," she requested, dispensing with the formality of using her last name.

"Thank you, Gail. Now, can you answer a few questions?" 

"Fire away," Gail blushed at the double entendre. "Ah...yes, I can answer your questions, now. Coffee?" she asked as she pointed at the coffeepot and picked up her cup. 

She wasn't surprised that her hands were slightly shaking. The man was crowding her personal space, as if he were doing it intentionally. He stood beside her, his hip nearly touching the counter top beside the coffee maker. When she reached for the coffee pot, he didn't move, not an inch. She barely avoided brushing his arm with the hot pot, and he seemed to know how nervous he was making her. 

"Yeah, thanks," he answered easily. "I've already talked to a few of your neighbors." As Gail reached in the cabinet in front of her to remove a second coffee cup, the man's tone of voice did not change when his hand lightly brushed down her upper arm. "You're a very pretty woman."

Gail did not respond to the man's flirting, nor did she turn her head to look at him. Instead, she took her filled cup of coffee to the table and sat down.

Gail nodded when he asked, "Will all of the children go to sleep?" She did not look up when he asked, "How long does their nap usually last?"

"They usually sleep an hour, sometimes a little longer."

"That should give us enough time," Conyers replied moving his head to look down the hall toward the bedrooms.

Unaware that in her nervousness she had crossed one leg over the other and was slowly swinging her foot back and forth, the man moved a little nearer so that her foot brushed the leg of his pants. Tired of the man's flirting, Gail turned her head to look at him, "Detective Conyers, you said you have some questions?"

"Well, I am asking questions," he replied. "You don't like my questions? Darrell Johnson across the street didn't seem to mind my questions." He stood in front of her, his feet at shoulder width. If she looked straight ahead, she would see that he had the beginning of an erection.

Gail looked away from the detective and clenched her jaw, refusing to respond to the man's jibes. Darrell Johnson was not as subtle as Clayton Conyers was. Darrell had offered to fuck her until she screamed. On another occasion, he had promised a pussy licking that would make her eyes roll back in her head. He often sat on his front porch repeatedly running his hand down the back of a calico cat, which sat on his lap. He had told her he would be as gentle with her pussy as he was with his own little pussy cat. At least half of the times she walked out her front door, he was standing on his front porch slowly rubbing his hand up and down the front of his tight bicycle shorts under which he demonstrated his engorged erection, or something he had stuffed down his pants. 

"Do my questions bother you, Gail?" Detective Conyers asked as he moved a chair away from the table so he could sit and look at Gail. He made a slow perusal of her, from her slowly swinging leg all the way up to the top of her head as he slowly licked his lips.

Gail sat up straight in her chair, uncrossed her legs, and looked at the man sitting beside her. She'd had enough of his intimidation. "Detective Conyers, you're not going to get anything from me I've already refused to give to Darrell Johnson. If you have specific questions, ask them, or please leave."

Relaxing against the back of his seat, he didn't bat an eye at her comment. Instead, he continued in the same tone of voice, "I need information about the people who live in the house next door."

"I thought that was why you are here. What do you want to know?"

Reaching into the pocket of his suit coat hanging on the back of the chair, Conyers brought out his notebook. He reviewed the number of times in the previous eighteen months when Gail had reported the sounds of a domestic disturbance. He allowed Gail to describe the appearance of the woman on the days following her reports including the two times Gail encouraged the woman to go to the hospital or to see her personal physician. 

"What is the first date you can recall that you had not seen Cheryl Ramos?"

"Oh, let me think. I'm not sure I saw her after the last report. She had been over that night. She was limping so badly she could hardly walk. I wanted her to call 9-1-1 for an ambulance, but she didn't want to go to the hospital. I think she stayed over here about an hour and was holding her stomach the whole time. I saw him the next morning, I think, but I don't recall seeing her after that night."

"You said you asked Tony Ramos where Cheryl was."

"Yes, I sort of lied. I told him she left her glasses at my house and I wanted to give them back to her."

"Glasses. Reading glasses?"

"Yes, she wore glasses to read. She bought two or three pair at a time at the drug store and was forever leaving them lying around and then forgetting to take them home with her."

"Did she actually leave her glasses over here that night?"

"Not that night, but I had some she had left on another day. I just used that as an excuse to ask about her."

"Did you always ask about her or see her the day after one of their fights?"

"Usually. I was just letting him know whatever he was doing to her wasn't going unnoticed."

"What did he tell you?"

"Oh, well ... I have to use the words he said, I guess." Conyers nodded and Gail said, "He told me, 'I finally got rid of that lying cunt.' He said some other things, but it came down to a story that she was being unfaithful with his brother and he told her to go to him, or to go live with her sister." 

Conyers continued questioning Gail to determine if she knew, or had met Tony's brother, Cheryl's sister, or any other family members or knew where any of them lived. 

"I'm sorry, I don't. In fact, I didn't even know she had a sister. She didn't talk about any of her family. We weren't close. I mean we might have a short conversation occasionally, mostly we just nodded, waved, or said hello when we were coming or going and one of us was somewhere we could see the other. Most neighbors are like that, I guess. It's not like when I was a lot younger and played with all the other kids in the neighborhood. Most of those people are gone now, except for Darrell Johnson across the street."

"Oh, you're saying you've lived here a long time?"

"Yes. My Mom and Papa owned this house when I was born. I've lived here all my life."

"And Darrell Johnson?"

"About the same, I guess. As long as I can remember, he's lived across the street."

"You don't like him?"

"I don't really dislike him, I just don't trust him."

"Has he ever done anything to cause you to distrust him?"

"Ha!" Gail exclaimed with sarcasm. "No, I shouldn't say that about him. I'm just not comfortable around him."

"Why?"

Blushing to the roots of her hair, Gail looked down at her fingers intertwined on her lap. "He's ah... I guess the right word is lewd, or indecent. He has a filthy mouth. He and Cheryl would trade suggestive remarks across the street at each other. Any time they started what Cheryl called 'word fucking' each other, I'd leave the yard and bring the children inside."

"Word fucking?"

"Detective, I really don't want to repeat the things they said to each other."

"Okay, I guess I get the idea. Do you have any reason to believe there was anything other than verbal exchanges between them?" 

Gail shook her head, "No, just the words they yelled at each other."

"Anything else you can remember?"

"Not really."

*** Although Gail did not tell the detective, she was almost glad Cheryl Ramos was gone. The verbal exchanges between the woman and Darrell Johnson were growing so ugly Gail was becoming concerned that the children she cared for might begin to repeat what they heard. It wasn't a daily exchange, yet it had grown more heated and their voices had increased until Gail had gone outside on several occasions to tell them to stop or she would call the police and report them for creating a public disturbance.

After the detective left, Gail rushed through the completion of the denim skirt and called Mrs. Wagner to come by for a hem measurement at her convenience. The woman had a very low hip on one side and wanted her skirt hem to appear to be straight when she stood still. Gail usually managed to adjust the waist of most skirts, but liked to make any additional adjustments before she sewed the hem. It was one of the reasons Mrs. Wagner paid Gail so well to make the clothing she wanted.

By the time the last child left on Friday afternoon, all Gail could think of was a hot shower, an hour to cool down, and chili cheese fries to go with a margarita. Even after telephone calls to a couple of friends, discovering they had other plans for the evening, her interest in the chili cheese fries had not waned. She put on a clean pair of jeans and a plain shirt then left for her favorite restaurant.

***

Rather than take up booth space in the crowded restaurant, Gail sat at one of the tall tables in the bar and ordered a margarita. When the waitress delivered the frozen drink, Gail asked for a double order of chili cheese fries with melted cheese plus sour cream and sliced jalapeno peppers on the side.

Using one of the four forks sticking out of the side of the serving dish, Gail picked up two long strips of crisply fried potato and allowed the chili to drip off the end, dredged it through the top of the mound of sour cream, then stuck the fork into a slice of pepper. Just as she pulled the slathered potatoes off the fork with her front teeth, a short glass with tinkling ice cubes was placed on the table beside her margarita.

"My God, Gail, what is that?"

Gail looked up to see Detective Carlton Conyers sitting down on the elevated stool beside her. She finished chewing the mouthful, swallowing a little sooner than she should have, and took a sip of her margarita. 

"Chili cheese fries are my personal reward for the end of a tough week." She picked up one of the other forks and offered it to Carlton, "Try some."

As they ate, they talked, Carlton teasing Gail about doing everything herself and never asking anyone for help as she described her various jobs. She was a child care provider, seamstress, and part-time tutor for a few students at the nearby high school. 

Half an hour later, Carlton was offering to order a second tray of chili cheese fries. Gail declined, but she did hold up her nearly empty glass and admitted that against her better judgment, she would drink a third margarita. 

Gail's alcohol induced, slightly loosened tongue, allowed her to say, "I'm enjoying myself. You're not quite the asshole I thought you were."

Carlton laughed, "Yeah, I wasn't very nice to you."

"You tried to intimidate me."

Carlton lowered his voice, perhaps yielding to his own alcohol intake, "You frightened me. I was attracted to you. I didn't deal with that very well."

Without lifting her eyes to his, Gail asked quietly, "You 'were' attracted?"

"Don't go there, Gail. I'm enjoying myself, but I've probably ruined your chances of finding a man tonight, although, I've watched you sending 'Back Off' looks at every man in here. I'm too old for someone as young as you are."

"You're forty-three, that's not old."

He raised his eyebrows at her for remembering information on his identification. "You're right, but you're not even thirty yet. I like you, and yes, I'm attracted, but maybe we should leave it at that."

"Okay," Gail agreed and reached across the table for her purse. Carlton beat her to it, picking up her small handbag and deftly removing her keys from the small clip on the side. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"You've had a little too much to drink. I'm going to see you home." He stood, telling Gail to sit tight for just a minute. He tucked her handbag under his arm and walked across the room to a table where two men sat with a small group of women. The table had been making quite a bit of noise with their laughter, while Gail and Carlton ate and enjoyed their drinks. He tapped one of the men on the shoulder and handed him a key he removed from a key ring he took from his pocket.

When he returned to Gail's table, he helped her stand until she was steady on her feet and walked her to her car then drove to her house.

Once he had her inside her front door, he leaned over to look her in the eyes, "Are you going to be sick?"

"No, I might be a little tipsy, but I'm not that drunk. I'm just tired," she admitted as she leaned against the closet door. "How are you going to get home?"

He patted his shirt pocket, indicating his cell phone, which he had answered several times during the evening. "I'll call a black and white to pick me up."

Carlton put his hand on her shoulder to pull her forward, "Come on, let's get you to bed."

Gail raised her arm and jerked away, "Don't take care of me, Carlton."


Investigating



"Don't be so damn independent, Gail." Carlton argued. 

"Forget it, Carlton. You said to just 'leave it at that,' so just leave me alone." She pushed against him trying to get away from the look in his eyes.

He tried to put his arms around her to stop her from struggling, at the same time she was pushing against him. "Don't fight me, Gail. Just let me get you to bed."

"I don't need help."

"Dammit!" Carlton exclaimed as he backed her against the wall, lowered his head, and kissed her. She struggled a moment longer then put her arms around his neck and kissed him back. His hand came from behind her back to hold her breast. Her hand moved down to his hip to hold him as he ground his erection against her pelvis. Her hands searched frantically for the buttons down the front of his shirt as his pulled up the front of her shirt and unsnapped the front of her bra.

Carlton's mouth found her breast and her hand moved to the fly of his pants and began to lower the zipper. The sounds they exchanged were groans and simple words, which meant more, right there, yes, or do that again.

"Fuck," Carlton put his hands on her shoulders and stepped back, holding himself away from her. "Go to bed, Gail." Ten seconds later, he was out her front door, telling her to lock up as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

***

Gail had only four children for the week. One of the mothers was on vacation. Wednesday, another mother called to report that her husband had the day off and she would not be bringing her twins that day. It meant there were only two children for the day.

When the doorbell rang, Gail opened her front door to find Detective Carlton Conyers standing on her front porch. Gail unlocked the screen door and took three steps back.

As Carlton opened the door and stepped inside the house, he said, "I have a few more questions, Gail. But first I need to apologize for the other night."

"It's my fault as much as yours. It's not a fair excuse, but I had too much to drink. Thank you for bringing me home."

"You're welcome." He looked around for a moment and asked, "Where's all the kids? I brought them some toy badges." He pulled his hand out of his coat pocket showing her five small plastic police badges.

Gail took the small badges and put them on the table beside the front door as she explained about the missing three and that the other two were taking a long nap. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"Sure," he agreed and followed her into the kitchen. "Have you heard from Cheryl Ramos?"

"No," Gail answered as she poured their coffee. "I haven't talked to Tony to ask how she is. He's been getting home after I go to bed at night and he leaves the next day after the children arrive."

"I stopped there first, but he isn't home. His telephone's disconnected. Has he moved out?"

Gail shrugged her shoulders as she placed a cup of coffee in front of Carlton and sat down at the table. "I think the electricity is off, too."

"Gail, will you go to dinner with me Friday night?"

"Why?"

"I'd like to take you to dinner."

"That's not what you said the other night."

"I know. I'd still like to spend some time with you."

"Carlton...you said..."

"Dammit, don't make this so damn hard. So I was wrong. Okay? I want to see you. I can't say it any plainer than that."

Gail looked up, a soft smile slowly spreading across her face, "Carlton, I'd love to go to dinner with you Friday night."

Carlton nodded, "Why is every conversation I have with you a battle?"

Gail lifted one shoulder and then let it fall, "I guess because I don't want to let you intimidate me."

"I don't do that." His denial was a little too quickly spoken. Finally, he admitted, "I don't like how I feel around you."

Gail didn't say anything. He seemed to think for a minute. He cocked his head to one side as he looked at her. He finally said, "Vulnerable, I guess. It's not something I'm accustomed to feeling. I'm a big bad ass cop. People are supposed to be afraid of me. They're supposed to cower and answer my questions. You don't do that. It's like you know where my soft spot is and your hand is around it ready to squeeze it at a moment's notice."

He watched as Gail stood. He seemed a little cautious, uncertain what she was going to do. Gail took one step and then another as she moved between his knees. He looked up at her, his face showing uncertainty as she put her hands on his cheeks and raised his face. Then she leaned forward and kissed him. He was so surprised he didn't move. He simply enjoyed her kiss. Gail took a step back and asked, "What time will you pick me up?"

"Is seven o'clock okay?" he asked as he stood and started to put his arms around her. 

"Seven o'clock is just right." Gail answered as she held him away with one hand against his chest. "I'll even wear a dress."

"I look forward to seeing that," Carlton mumbled as he turned and walked to her front door, followed by Gail's chuckle.

"I'll be gentle, Carlton. I promise," she called out to him as he opened her front door.

"What the hell am I getting myself into?" Carlton asked as he closed the door behind him, letting the screen door slam as he walked down the sidewalk to his car. 

*** 

"Oh God," Carlton breathed when Gail opened her front door. "You're beautiful," he added as he stepped inside. "Can I kiss you?" he pleaded as she stepped back into her living room and shook her head.

"You're going to make me wait, aren't you?"

Gail held up her forefinger and stepped toward him for the one kiss she would allow. Carlton made her capitulation worth it. He gathered her into his arms and kissed her slowly, sliding his lips across hers and returning to brush his tongue across her lower lip until she parted her lips to give him access to taste her. 

When he lifted his head, his eyes were slightly glazed and he didn't want to stop looking at her. "That has to last me until I can get you back here, doesn't it?"

Gail nodded and grinned, then lifted her hand to his cheek and used her thumb to brush across his lips. 

"Lipstick."

"You could have left it there."

Gail's voice trembled. "A big bad ass cop shouldn't be seen in public with lipstick on his mouth." 

As he drove toward the restaurant, and throughout dinner, he responded to Gail's questions and discovered the few details he shared about the dirtier parts of his job did not bother her. He would say something, almost as if he was talking to one of his fellow officers, not watching his words, and when he realized what he had told her, he held his breath. She nodded or asked him a question so she could understand what he was telling her.

She may not have witnessed much of the seamier side of life, but she knew it existed and was not surprised about some of the things he told her. Instead of holding everything in, as he normally would have done with a woman he did not know well, he was soon talking to her and sharing some of his emotions. She laughed about some of the details of his investigations that were funny. She commiserated with him about some sad events and shuddered at the few gory details he barely mentioned. Yet, she did not ask him to withhold anything he wanted to share with her. 

Alternately, they both laughed at the antics she described that typical four year olds performed. The things they said with such innocence and the things they did kept Carlton entertained until he had finished his steak. He discovered she had a friend who kept three-year-olds and how they had formed a sort of graduation process from one caregiver to another with a third young woman who liked to keep one and two-year-olds.

They learned a little about each other's personal history. He had been married for a few years when he was much younger but admitted it was not much more than a fuck fest for him and uniform worship for her. Neither of them had been faithful to their marriage. He'd had one long term affair with a woman almost his own age and casually mentioned he was faithful for the duration of their affair, but her fear for his safety would not allow her to commit to a permanent relationship. She married a real estate broker about a year after they broke up.

Gail reluctantly admitted she had never had a serious boyfriend. Eventually she told Carlton that she could count her previous sexual partners on the fingers of one hand.

"Good Lord, Gail, you're almost a virgin," Carlton offered quietly.

"Not hardly and it wasn't a very nice 'taking' if you understand my meaning," she admitted. "I thought it was more important than he seemed to, and then I discovered I didn't like him very much. Maybe I'm too particular, but I also didn't have a lot of opportunity. My parents were actually my grandparents and restrictive about my comings and goings. My birth mother was their only child. She died in childbirth, but the woman I called Mom never let me feel bad about it. It was God's will that gave her a daughter to replace the one she had to give back to God. My birth father was never around. I know who he is, but I've never needed him. He remarried less than a year after I was born. I had my grandfather for a Papa."

On the way back to Gail's house, Carlton's cell phone rang. He apologized as he answered, but said he would explain. He was still talking when they walked into her house. Instead of drinking a cup of coffee after their dinner, Gail had volunteered to make them a fresh pot when they returned to her house.

As she stood at the kitchen counter waiting for the last of the brew to drip through the filter, Carlton walked up behind her and put his arms around her, nuzzling her neck.

"Did you understand some of that?" Carlton asked as he rested his chin on her shoulder for a moment then touched his lips to the hard ridge of her collarbone.

Gail nodded, but didn't say anything.

"Sometimes it turns out good and sometimes it doesn't." He paused for a moment then continued, "She must have been bleeding internally when she was over here that night. He told his brother he beat her a second time after she went home. Then he drove her to his brother's house and dumped her in his yard. The coroner said even an emergency surgery might not have saved her."

"Did Tony's brother kill him?"

"He claims he didn't. He says it was a drive-by shooting, a mistaken identity. The brother was the intended victim. He claims Tony was in the wrong place at the wrong time." 

"Yeah, I got that part. I...ah...I don't think I want any coffee, do you?"

"No," Carlton answered, turning Gail around so he could hold her. "Come on sweetheart, I'll put you to bed."

Carlton stood outside Gail's door as she changed her clothes and when she opened the door tears were still running down her face.

"I may not have liked either of them, but I never wished them dead," she muttered as she used a tissue to wipe away a fresh flow of tears. She wasn't sobbing, just crying a little with an occasional catch in her voice.

"I know, sweetheart. Come on," He encouraged walking into her room, turning her covers down, and then holding the corner up so she could slip into bed.

"Carlton?" Gail asked when she was sitting on her bed after sliding her feet under the sheet and blanket. "Can you...will you...would you mind staying with me tonight?"

"That's not a good idea, Gail. I'll come over some time tomorrow."

"I don't mean...we don't have to...I think I just want someone here."

"Okay," he relented. He really didn't want to leave her. "I need to make a couple of calls. You get comfortable. I'll be back in a few minutes. Maybe I'll have some coffee after all."

When Gail started to get out of the bed, he stopped her. "I can take care of it. You just lie down. I'll only be a few minutes, I promise."

He turned off the light but left the bedroom door open as he walked down the hall to the kitchen. Gail heard his voice for a little while but was probably about half asleep when she felt Carlton put his arms around her as he settled behind her. It was only then that she finally relaxed.

*** 

Gail's eyelids fluttered and then closed again, when Carlton whispered, "Kiss me, baby doll." He was on one elbow, leaning over her, watching her face as the faint glow from a street light filtered through the curtain covering the window above their heads.

So she did. It was a long slow kiss that became something else as Carlton explored her mouth, sucked on her bottom lip and ran the tip of his tongue along the sharp edge of her teeth. He caught her soft moan of pleasure in his mouth and shared his own with her.

His fingers threaded through the soft curls of her hair. He held her head still as he explored the tender spot under her ear. He chuckled when she shuddered from the chills that burst through her skin.

"Mercy, I love the taste of you," he whispered in her ear. His mouth moved down to her neck and his tongue explored the heartbeat under her jaw. "You have about ten seconds to kick me out of your bed, sweetheart."

Instead of asking him to leave, she put her arm around him and rested her lips against his stubble-roughened cheek. "I don't want you to leave."

"I wasn't planning on this. I don't even have a condom in my wallet," he told her as he planted quick kisses on her lips, cheeks, eyes, and forehead.

"You don't need one," she replied as she rubbed her teeth against the rough whiskers on his chin. "Last week maybe," she laughed when he flopped onto his back and she moved on top of him, "but not tonight."

He put his hands on her cheeks and held her face above him, "Preventing pregnancy isn't the only reason to use a condom, Gail."

"Are you telling me you're promiscuous, Carlton?"

"No, but..."

"Then hush and kiss me."

He kissed her as he slid his hands under the long t-shirt, pushing against her until she was sitting up and managed to capture her breasts. "Take that damn shirt off, it's in my way," he pleaded. 

Gail sat up straight with her legs folded beside his hips as she pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it on the floor beside the bed. Carlton put his hands under her arms, lifted her slightly, and pulled her forward bringing one of her breasts to his mouth. His tongue swirled around the hardening bud and Gail twitched.

"Ah, you like that, huh?" Carlton teased. Although he knew the answer from the sharp intake of her breath, he asked anyway, "Have you ever had a man play with your breasts before?"

"Not really," She answered. "It tingles, makes me itch."

He turned his head to capture the other breast. He pulled his hands out from under her arms to hold the sides of her breast, pushing the center into a firm peak. His tongue moved from side to side mashing the nipple and areola against the roof of his mouth. As he suckled, Gail moved her hips up and down on his stomach, moaning with a long drawn out "O-o-o-oh."

"Easy baby, make it last," Carlton slowed her movements by placing his hands on her hips to hold her still. 

"Come here," he encouraged, showing her how to brace her hands on the pillow beside his head and lean forward for him to give attention to her other breast. Gail slowly lowered her head until her forehead was resting against Carlton's and moaned with the intensity of the stimulation. When she would have raised her shoulders, he put his hands on her back and held her still for his ministrations. Her breathing grew faster until she was almost panting.

Her shoulders began to shake, her body trembled, and her stomach muscles contracted against his as a mini-orgasm shook her until she collapsed on top of Carlton.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," she whispered in his ear. "Never before," she added. "Carlton," she muttered.

"Easy, baby, easy, just enjoy it."

"Whew, what was that?" Gail asked as he allowed her to roll off him. He raised himself on his elbow to brush her hair away from her forehead and from the sides of her face as her breathing returned to near normal. 

"God, you are beautiful," he said as much to himself as to her. "I've heard some women can orgasm that way, but I've never had it happen before. You're something special."

"Can I do that to you?" Gail teased as her hands sought his small flat nipples and tried to move her head down to get her mouth to his chest.

"I don't think it works that way," he countered, but he did lift himself to allow her access to his body. "They're somewhat sensitive, but not like yours are."

Try as hard as she could, she still couldn't get much of his flesh into her mouth. She pushed against him to get him sitting up while she was on her haunches. "You're all hard muscles," she complained. "I need some flab to work with."

He was laughing at her, but he wouldn't help either. His hands were busy sliding up and down her back as she knelt before him.

"What was that you did?" Gail asked as she moved her hands to either side of one nipple until she found just the right place for her flattened hands. She mashed toward one hard bud to get enough flesh so she could suck his nipple into her mouth. She finally used her teeth to nibble on him and felt him jerk. She was so elated she was laughing as she worked on the other side.

Pushing her head back down to her pillow, Carlton was laughing too. "You little tease. Lord, I enjoy playing with you."

"Playing?"

"Well, it sure as hell isn't work."

"But I thought it was, you know, in a hurry, sort of. Remember, I'm not that...I haven't..."

"Hey, hey," He interrupted her. "Whatever feels good to you is what I'll enjoy. Yes, I remember when it was a contest. In my twenties and maybe on into my thirties I couldn't get there fast enough and I may not have taken care of my partner as I should have." 

Gail's hands moved up to cup his shoulders and then slid down his arms, investigating the feel of him, noticing the smooth skin over the muscles of his upper arms and the hair-roughened lower arms. She put her hands between his torso and his arms, ruffling over each of his ribs, and then around to his back slowly moving up to the sharp edge of his shoulder blades and down the dent of his backbone until she encountered the elastic band of his boxer shorts.

Boldly she slipped her fingers down inside the elastic of his shorts and rubbed across his bare skin. "You have a cute ass."

"You little hussy," Carlton whispered in her ear.

"What?" She asked, "You men always talk about a female with a bubble butt or a sweet ass. I'm just returning the compliment."

While Gail's hands explored Carlton, he did much the same to her, brushing his finger across her lips, moving from side to side, sensitizing them, and then lowering his head to kiss her. His lips touched, retreated, and then touched her again until she was lifting her head for a deeper kiss.

When he abandoned her lips to move to the soft spot under her ear, she whimpered and tried to move her head to capture his mouth again. Instead, his lips moved down the side of her neck and around to the soft spot at the base of her neck. He kissed her, tasted her, and rubbed his chin against her, sampling the soft skin between her breasts and along the underside of each breast.

When he reached the softness of her belly, he felt her quiver from the feel of his tongue on her delicate flesh. She jerked when he pushed his tongue into her belly button. His fingers slid inside the elastic of her panties and brushed through the soft hair covering her mound. He moved slowly until she was rolling her hips, wanting more from his hands. She bent one leg then straightened it. Gail raised one knee then lowered it as she grew more agitated and aroused from his slow movements. 

Gail's hands went to his head, holding his mouth against her stomach while she pushed her belly against him to feel his tongue. He tasted her tummy. His fingers moved between her legs to cup her sex and his other hand pulled her panties down. She lifted her hips, unaware she was helping, or perhaps she wanted more. While she thrashed her legs to remove the panties, he settled between her thighs and heard her whimper of complaint when she could no longer run her hands up and down his back.




Investigating



He could smell her, spice, soap, or simply the fragrance of pure woman, a sexually aroused woman. He would never tire of the delicious scent. He rested his cheek against the inside of her thigh as his fingers moved up and down the crease between her leg and her vulva, anticipating, yet delaying, his first taste of her.

Carlton could not tell her earlier how long it had been since he'd been with a woman he really desired. He had learned to forego the subtle or blatant offers he received. There was little to attract him to the women who sought or flirted with him. He had not yet admitted to himself how much he wanted Gail. That she was so young frightened him, literally frightened him, until he thought he should not pursue her for fear he could never have her. Had she yielded to him that first day he stood in her kitchen, he might have walked away and never thought of her again. Yet she had called his bluff and the prey became the captive.

Suddenly she was very still, "Carlton, Carlton."

He lifted his head, "What baby doll?"

Struggling to sit up, Gail told him, "I don't understand...."

He moved up her body, kissing across her belly between her breasts, up to the base of her neck. "You don't understand what, sweetheart?"

"I don't understand all the excitement about oral sex. Can I...I mean I've never...can I taste you first?"

"Gail, are you sure?"

"I have never been surer of anything in my life. You are the sexiest man I've ever met. I think I was sort of in awe of you that first afternoon."

Carlton took her face in his hands and slowly kissed her. As the kiss continued, he moved beside her and drew her close to him. He took her hand and put it inside his boxer shorts holding her hand around his cock as he moved closer to her. 

"You feel so good and big and hard," she said.

"I don't remember ever feeling this excited about anything!" He kissed her more passionately. "I'll be honest. I may not last very long."

Gail grinned. "Okay, just tell me what to do. I mean I sort of have the general idea, but I've never, well...."

Carlton started chuckling and finally laughing out loud. "Oh Lord, Gail, I'll enjoy anything you do. Just pretend I'm your favorite flavored popsicle."

Sitting on her haunches, she pulled down his boxers and began her investigation. Since the head was relatively small, Gail was able to get most of his cock into her mouth as she started moving her tongue up and down. She began tenderly running her hand up and down his length. His cock was beautiful. His shaft was straight and smooth with small veins along each side. The head was a perfect crown. She was amazed at its girth, since it didn't have curves or bulges. Her fingers could just barely touch when her hand wrapped around it. 

"Gail, Gail, Gail ... I'm not going to last long," Carlton managed to blurt out. Gail took the clue and started sucking. The sound of her lips and tongue moving hurriedly up and down his hot, hard shaft was also driving him crazy. Everything about this woman was perfect.

"Oh, damn! Oh, fuck!" 

Gail felt his body stiffen as she prepared herself for the eruption. The first, hot, salty blast hit her throat with more force than she imagined. She swallowed quickly and prepared for the next burst.

Carlton felt like his entire insides were exploding out in a giant rush of energy. Wave after wave of pleasure surged over him. He came so hard and fast that Gail was almost overwhelmed. Finally, his body went limp and he let out a deep sigh.

"Well?" she asked.

"Well, what?" he asked behind closed eyes and heavy pants. Carlton tried to sit up, shook his head to get the blood flowing to something other than his cock and dropped his head back on the pillow. "My God," he could barely talk. "Whew, I hope I didn't gag you."

"No, but I think I'm going to need more practice." Gail settled beside Carlton, snuggling against his side as her hand rubbed up and down his chest.

"My God," he exclaimed again, with a long deep sigh. "I'll be right here anytime you feel the need to test your skills." 

"Oh yeah?" Gail teased as her hand went down his body to capture his now flaccid penis. 

Carlton bent his knees and twisted to escape her wandering hands. "Give a man a chance to recover darlin'. Mercy." He finally pushed her over and moved on top of her, pushing her down on the pillows as his mouth found hers for a hungry kiss. 

He held her breasts and gingerly pinched her nipples. Then he broke off the kiss and engulfed her right breast. He licked her breast and ran his tongue roughly around her nipple, drawing it into his mouth and sucking, while the tip of his tongue ran up and down the underside.

"Oh, Lord, that feels good," she shivered and moaned. 

He kissed her again, harder and more urgently and moved his hand down to her silky thighs.

She put her arms around his neck, pulled him into a wet kiss and held him there for a long time. 

When she finally broke for air, he looked at her and smiled, a big, happy, content smile. 

His hands gently caressed her body, moving all over it, breasts, nipples, tummy, between the thighs. Always moving, softly caressing, his mouth followed behind, sucking, licking, leaving a wet trail. He put his hand on her mound and she shivered. He slipped a finger between her pussy lips and she moaned. 

Carlton moved his index finger up and down the crease between her lips. He heard her intake of breath and slow exhale as she sighed. His mouth followed his finger, spreading his saliva, mixing it with her juices, tasting her for the first time. Although he had never been with a woman who shaved her pubic hair, the idea did not appeal to him. He enjoyed the musk captured and held, along with the inner mystery kept hidden until he parted her lips to reveal the beauty and softness of a woman. He ran his tongue under each lip, reveling in the softness as his flattened tongue slid across the stiffening clit.

Then, he laid the broad flat of his tongue on her soaking pussy and ran it up the entire length. Gail stiffened and breathed deeply as his tongue moved along her clit. For a few minutes, his senses were immersed in her sex, the taste of her, the smell, the feel, the sight of her soft pink folds. As his tongue continued to explore her, he glanced up at the look of ecstasy on her face. Her eyes were closed, and she bit her lower lip. Her breathing was rapid and she was exhaling quickly, panting with excitement.

He opened her with his fingers and jabbed his tongue as deeply as he could. "Carlton," She squealed.

He moved his tongue around the outside and then went to the clitoris. He sucked it between his lips and worked his tongue around and around it as he sucked. Her juices flowed against his chin. He began an assault on her clitoris, his tongue flipped rapidly over the pointed little bit of flesh rich with nerves. His lips sucked it in and out of its sheath. 

She was moaning and thrashing her head as her whole body vibrated while he continued to suck and lap around the entire vaginal area. She gave a huge yell and thrashed about. He pulled back and smiled as the first throbs of her orgasm shook her body. 

Before she could relax from the first climax, he pressed his face deep into her pussy and licked everywhere he could reach. She was in ecstasy now and her legs jerked as she reached and pulled his head into her vaginal area as hard as she could. 

He concentrated on her inviting clit. He stuck one, then two fingers into her tunnel. He reached up and rubbed her G-spot as he ran his tongue rapidly around her engorged clit waiting for the next orgasm to reach its peak.

"Oh, please don't stop. Oh, oh, oh, that feels amazing."

He smiled to himself and used the very tip of his tongue quickly flicking the edge of her clit. Then, he took her clit into his mouth, and tenderly sucked on it.

"Oh!!" She screamed, as her body began writhing and shaking again. Her orgasm seemed to last forever. When the tension finally started to drain out of her, he lightly released her clit and pulled his soaking fingers out of her pussy.

"Oh. My. God." she said as she tried to catch her breath. "That was amazing. I didn't know it would feel like that."

Carlton smiled widely as he looked at her beautiful, sweat-covered face. He moved up her body, spreading her juice over her belly. While she was still in her state of euphoria, he began to kiss her deeply. Having not given much thought to his own arousal, he realized his cock was once again at its full hardness. He had an aching need to bury himself in her warm wetness.

He stopped kissing her, moved his cock to her pussy, and ran the head up and down her slick opening.

"Ready?"

"Yes, yes. I want to feel you inside me."

He watched closely as he put his penis head against her pussy lips and rubbed up and down. He slipped it in a little way then withdrew. He pressed the head against her opening and entered her again. He did this several times going deeper each time, watching her face. At last, he was fully inside her and he paused and asked, "Are you okay, baby doll? Do you want more?" 

"Oh, God yes. This is heaven."

He responded with long slow strokes with his shaft, from all the way out to all the way in. He increased the rhythm of his thrusts and watched as her eyes closed and her fists clenched. She was hot and very tight. 

Gail just smiled and opened her eyes to watch him moving. Carlton kept staring right into her eyes as his hard penis began its charge. He moved slowly and steadily as he let her pussy adjust to him. He never broke eye contact, both to deepen their connection and to watch for any sign of discomfort.

There was none. Gail was so wet his length entered her as if he was sliding with the wet nap of velvet. When he was fully encased he began moving more rapidly, in and out of her feeling his balls hitting each time he pushed all the way inside her.

Carlton picked up his speed as he bent down to kiss this woman. Then he laid his head down beside her and closed his eyes. He wanted to feel every inch of her, every touch, and every surface. Gail closed her eyes too and focused on the full satisfaction his penis gave her. She wondered if she could just stay like this for the rest of her life with this perfect man filling her.

As they continued, the urgency began to build. Gail started moaning and whispering, ""Yes, yes, oh yes. Yes, yes, oh yes."

Carlton was trying to absorb everything so he would never forget a single second of this first time. He could feel the hair on his ball sack began to twitch, as his balls got ready to empty another full load into this amazing creature. He started paying more attention to grinding his pubic bone into her clit. It was working. Gail started moaning louder.

"Oh, God ... harder, harder, harder!"

Carlton pounded into her, her pussy milking and massaging him with every stroke. Sweat started dripping off him. Gail didn't notice. She was lost in the heat of the moment. He knew he wasn't going to hold out much longer, and he knew she was close because of the pace of her breathing.

To speed up Gail, he reached down and soaked his finger in her nectars. Then, he gingerly started rubbing her swollen clit. That pushed her over the precipice.

Gail pulled up her legs so he could get in even deeper and grabbed the skin of his back.

Carlton let go and started spraying her deep and hard with his thick, hot cream. The rhythm of her pussy walls kept pulling more and more out of him. He didn't make a sound. He wasn't even sure if he was breathing, but he knew he was exactly where he wanted to be.

He came so hard and full that the sheer force of his cum pouring into her heightened Gail's orgasm. When he finally finished, he collapsed onto her, holding her closer than he ever had. She clutched him with her arms and her legs not really knowing where to hold him, just wanting to keep him close. It was almost as if she was trying to pull him completely inside her.

Slowly, they loosened their grips on each other. Carlton simply slid out with the warm flow of cum and sweet juice spilling out of her. He rolled over onto his back and pulled her to him. She laid her head on his chest and let out a very satisfied sigh.

Carlton held her trembling body and felt mini-aftershocks course through her. He put his hand on the back of her head, holding her to him, wanting her as badly again as he had wanted her the first time he saw her. 

"Carlton?" Her voice was small and uncertain in the darkened room.

"What is it, baby doll?"

"You won't...you won't leave, will you? I mean, if I go to sleep, you'll still be here when I wake up?"

"Yeah, I'll still be here. I like holding you."

"Good, because I'm sort of...maybe I'm not really afraid, but I don't want to be alone right now."

"I'll stay as long as you want me to, Gail."

"That's a bold offer Detective Conyers."

"Yeah, it is. You go to sleep. We can talk about it tomorrow."

***

If you enjoyed the story please vote accordingly. Leave a comment or send me a message, positive or negative, and I'll reply if you include contact info. 2Xwidderwoman



Investigation & Law



Every single word of this story, about certain people who do not need any publicity, is true! Thus the names were changed, and I am not providing any details like geographic locations, which could help to identify the heroes of my story. I was very lucky to extract it at all. Enjoy.

* * * * * * *

Andrea, twenty something young, already divorced, rich, beautiful, had a comfy life. She will never have to work in her life. And still, after divorce, she surprised herself by being good at making investments via Internet. She was friends with Lydia.

Lydia, exactly twenty, and still much richer and, if possible, more beautiful than Andrea, had even a better life, or so you would assume, except that at the moment there seemed to be a dark cloud in her blue sky. She was married since she was eighteen and a half, for less than two years, and she already wanted out. "Why was I so blind and stupid?"--she despaired. Andrea, who never liked Lydia's husband, comforted her friend, telling Lydia that she was very young.

Lydia married a rich guy, who impressed her as smart and good natured. It felt like fun at the time. Soon, however, the marriage didn't seem such a good idea after all. Her husband was less and less interested in her as a woman, while more and more in her money, real estate and so on. Lydia was rich not accidentally. Her family had it in their genes. She was groomed to operate a large financial estate since she was a child. According to the prenuptial agreement the couple kept their possessions and material affairs separated. Lydia kept her own staff of advisors and assistants. Unknown to her husband, she even had her own investigators on payroll. Thus step by step she got the picture. Not a clear picture but clear enough. Her husband's business and connections were shady. And what broke the camel's back was a strong suspicion, virtually a certainty that her husband was cheating on her.

Now what? She understood that her husband was a dangerous man. The information she had collected about him so far was crucial to her education but was not useful yet for the sake of divorce.

"Sure,"--Andrea confirmed Lydia's insight--"you need a proof that he is cheating on you."

The two women met often. They attended the same charity events, used the same gym, and, both being young and intelligent females with more or less the same background, they simply enjoyed each other's company. They were fond of joking "we are just two dumb blondes." Only the part about being blondes was true though.

Thus it was perhaps strange that on hearing about Lydia's predicament Andrea was happily singing to herself. There was a good reason for that, and it had nothing to do with insincerity--Andrea was a loyal friend. She has provided Lydia with a contact, which could help Lydia a zillion times more than the whole Lydia's otherwise sensible entourage. Andrea and Lydia were on the phone already an hour and a half. Finally Andrea exclaimed: "Stuart is a renaissance man, a genius! The man is fucking fantastic!!!"

Lydia was shocked and confused. It was the first time that Andrea used a vulgar expression in her presence. Andrea was clearly excited. She described to Lydia how smoothly Mr. Stuart Hu had dissolved her own marriage, and the advantages which she got at the expense of her ex. It sounded good and credible. Incredible but credible. Lydia went to Andrea, and Andrea transfered $250K from Lydia's account to Stuart's account via the phone line. It was a reasonable transaction. Lydia's appointment with Stuart was only four days from now. Four long days.

Once Andrea was alone again she exhaled with relief and was singing this time aloud:

    oh Lydia my friend     we are going to be happy     we are going to be so fucking happy

It took Andrea effort to convince Stuart to accept the Lydia's case. And if Lydia refused Stuart's assistance Andrea would feel depressed.

First Andrea left a long message on Stuart's answering machine. She used that Stuart's phone number for the first time since her divorce. She was not allowed to call but only for a strong business reason. Thus already in that initial message Andrea informed Stuart that Lydia is a beautiful, young and nonsensically rich girl, who is facing a divorce too difficult for her to handle. She added that Stuart's remuneration is going to be significant. Stuart had returned the call. He was charming and polite but firmly refused to take the case--"you know Andrea, that I am not into divorce cases, I never was. They are simply not challenging enough. I am an adrenalin junky. Yes, I know the man, I know that he is no good. Remember, I have elephant memory. No, he is not that dangerous. Oh, yes, Lydia should be very careful, and I mean very, very careful."

Andrea was close to tears--"Lydia will pay you five, even ten millions, please Stuart."

There was something in Andrea's voice that made Stuart hesitant. After a moment of silence he said: "I remember you, Andrea. I'll do it. Have Lydia transfer 250K up front and I'll need another 250K after it's over, in twenty days. Plus expenses. In this case up to 40K, not more. That's all. It'll be over really in five days, but the paperwork will take another two weeks. You and Lydia are going to be discrete, I insist. I'll let you know more after you talk to Lydia. But talk to her tomorrow, not today."

* * * * * *

Stuart, half African-half Chinese, six foot eight tall, was so handsome that one didn't even think about his height. He loved music. The list of his accomplishments was long: he was the best actor in his school, both in Hong Kong and in the States. He spoke each of the twenty languages which he knew like a native, without a trace of any accent. He was a superb athlete. Martial arts was his love, he had no equals, while each time he would compete in any other sport he would always place in the top five. He was an accomplished masseur, he knew about massage everything there was to know and more.

His ancestors on both sides were warriors. His easy manner could easily fool you, but he too was a warrior. He finished the Police Academy at a record young age, followed by his degree with distinction. Before he was thirty he had already worked as a prosecutor for a couple of years. He conducted his own investigations. Then he decided that he should charge for that too. That he switched to being an attorney, to avoid a conflict of interests. His company "Stuart Hu, Investigation & Law." had provided both types of service: investigation and legal assistance, and he was paid well, very well indeed.

Also airplanes were Stuart's passion. He befriended pilots and would fly as a passenger to relax. Hm, that's another story. Anyway, he was not a pilot but he promised himself that in another life he will, or that he will be a musician. "I'll have to be reincarnated twice."--he told himself.

There was an ironic twist to his life. From the age of seven to fourteen he was absolutely the best thief in the whole Hong Kong--he was never caught, not even once. He never shared this knowledge with anybody. His peculiar savings kept him more than comfortable during his student years at the law school.

Stuart believed that his extraordinary skill in martial arts was strongly connected to his ability as a masseur, and to his genius at picking pockets. You dream and the time stays in place. The time stays in place and you are god, you can do everything, you can fulfill your every wish. Women agreed.

Yes, Stuart was a renaissance man. He had elephant dick and elephant memory. Others had only so many inches and only a few dozens of sexual partners. Stuart in addition to inches had also the decimal part and a few hundredths of an inch on the top of it. And he, and his skin and hands and lips and dick, especially those extra hundreds of an inch, remembered each and every of well over a thousand women to which he had the exquisite pleasure of doing more than is imaginable. He remembered every detail of each action and every detail of the unique anatomy of each woman, of their special points, their quirks... everything. This was his data base which he actively applied about every day or night in his life research. The only Stuart's regret was that he spent with most of these women only a few hours, and then never saw them again. "In my next life, when I am a musician or a pilot, it will be different. Or if I get not one but five elephant dicks."

Flying, law, martial arts, music and women were his main passions, in that alphabetical order.

* * * * * * * * * * * 

Lydia drove to Stuart's office by herself, as instructed. No driver this time. It was early in the morning. She was yawning almost non-stop.

She found the address easily, at the edge of the downtown of this huge metropolis. She saw a tall wall about a hundred feet back from the road, mostly covered by ivy. A driveway led to the closed, solid gate, with a clear street number above it. "I would never pay attention to this sign under normal circumstances."

She stopped before the gate. "What next?" After a while she was about to get out of the car to look for any button to ring, or possibly for a pedestrian entrance. But the gate had opened by itself and Lydia slowly drove into a closed compartment, with another solid gate raised about a foot above the ground, in front of her. To her surprise the gate in front of her went down completely, then also the gate behind her got shut down as well. It was pitch-black inside, except once in a while sharp white light would shine on her and her car. "What next?" She was ready again to leave the car when a deep voice asked her softly to roll her window down and to introduce herself. "My name is Lydia Green. I am to see Mr. Hu -- Mr. Stuart Hu."

"On whose recommendation?"

This time Lydia almost shouted "Please, Mr. Hu, I already feel uncomfortable!". The voice quietly insisted: "Please, Mrs. Green, answer the question."

The surge of white light had blinded Lydia again. "It was Andrea Townsend."

What's your husband's first name?"

  "What?!"

"What's your husband's first name?"

  "Bob. I mean, Robert."

"Please, Mrs. Green, get out of your car, go through the small gate, and drive one of the electric cars to the office building."

Another gate had opened to the left of Lydia's car, and she got into one of the electric cars parked some thirty feet away. She was amazed how large and beautiful was the park around her. Right in the downtown!

The lonely office building was larger than it seemed. The simple but irregular design, with interesting angles, made it easy on eyes. The door had opened for her by itself, without any further interrogation. The open area inside the building, at the ground level, looked recreationally, so she went one flight up stairs. A pleasant voice called her from an open room to the right: "Mrs. Green, please, do come in." She did.

A man got up, surprisingly tall!, and extended his hand. "Mrs. Green, I am Stuart Hu. Just call me Stuart. You're on time, eight thirty am".

"I am Lydia Green."

They shook hands.

"And call me Lydia."

She blushed.

"Have a sit"--Stuart offered--"and let me check the formality. Yes"--he said, looking at the PC screen--"it's there. And the second half..."

Lydia blushed again and offered--"I can pay now."

"Oh, no, the balance will be due in two weeks."

Stuart smiled at Lydia, and she instantly felt comfortable. So good and cozy that she was about to yawn, when a small red light started to blink, and an irritating sound spoiled the mood, it reminded her of a police siren. Stuart's face got solemn--"Did you, Lydia, tell your husband about this visit?"

Lydia nervously protested "No, I didn't, of course not!" Stuart wrapped his long arm around Lydia, got her up from the chair, and directed toward a large painting on the opposite wall.

"There is a problem, Lydia, do not panic". The wall with the painting opened for them, Stuart made them get in, and the wall closed behind them and drowned them in impossible blackness. "Shshsh"--Stuart whispered into Lydia's ear. They heard offending racket in the office, loud shouts, followed by gun shots, one, another, then a lot of them. But Lydia, in the complete darkness, surrounded from behind by Stuart felt like in heaven. "Shshsh"--Stuart whispered again. Lydia realized that somehow both Stuart's hands caressed her naked breasts. It had occurred to her that she is naked down to her waist. Her breathing was deep and intensive but her thinking in the warm air was sooo slow.

"Stuart is incredibly fast."--she thought lazily. "He is incredibly smooth."--she thought even more lazily.

Finally the strangers in the office shouted "We will get you, BOY!", and they left.

"Shshsh," Stuart murmured in her ear--"let's wait a bit." A faint light was getting stronger. Lydia saw a table in front of her, with a transparent top. "Rest your elbows on the table."--Stuart suggested, and she did. The light was coming from under the top of the table. She recognized two video screens. One was showing the office entry door from the outside, the other screen was focused on the office desk, with a closed folder on the top of it. Stuart's body and his limbs were everywhere around her and she didn't really care much about the screen views. Nevertheless she put together the big letters on the folder: "BOB GREEN". It occurred to her that by now she was completely naked, totally, this time from the comb in her hair to her toes.

"He's sooo fast!" She snuggled to Stuart even more, she grounded herself into him.

The screens below the table top got darker and fainted away. "Look up."--Stuart whispered. She raised her face and arched her back and saw the same two views above them, except that two people showed up at the office door. Lydia felt secure anyway. Especially that she felt Stuart deep inside her, and everywhere.

"He is unbelievably fast", she thought, warmly fond of Stuart. Waves were going through her, then she rested, then she experienced waves again, then rest, then she saw that the strangers on the screens had moved inside the office, standing now at the desk, and she recognized them to be her husband Bob and her friend Andrea. Lydia wanted to ask Stuart questions but the high priority wild things happening to her behind and her everything, from behind and from everywhere, made any action just impossible, "I can't concentrate". Instead she had that thought about being virgin in a way, and she wondered if she still is in any sense... she smiled inwardly "I am reading too many Internet stories, silly me, happy me, silly me...."

On the screen, the strangely sickly pale Bob was visibly shaken, while good mood and confidence emanated from Andrea. Bob bended over the desk. "Like me"--Lydia thought and laughed--"no, not like me!". She saw that Bob slowly and carefully signed some papers, a page after a page, after a page....

"Read! Read!"--Stuart had encouraged her but there was no way Lydia could concentrate on the clearly displayed text. Finally Bob left the office and Stuart exclaimed "Yes!" He turned Lydia around so she faced him, he squeezed her hard and became a hurricane. Lydia exploded, and went on and on and on and when after a century or so her eyes cleared, she turned her face toward the screen and saw Andrea waving to her.

"That's a big smile, huge, on Andrea's face."--Lydia thought.

* * * * * * *

The dim light around Lydia got brighter and brighter. Lydia looked for her expensive cloths, got them from the floor, but they were cut so thoroughly that it made her laugh again, "How did he do it?!"

The room was large! Stuart showed Lydia about a hundred of elegant women outfits in the closet. "You'll get one too"--he had assured her--"that's what the expense account is for."

"What?!" -- Lydia asked.

"Yep,"--Stuart insisted--"but now use this"--and he throw a large towel at her. Lydia wrapped herself, Stuart put on only his boxers, and they went out to greet Andrea.

"Lydia, look at the agreement, which Bob has signed!" Andrea exclaimed enthusiastically, "I had hard time to resist the urge to have a peek".

"But Andrea, my friend, you may, please..." Lydia started only to be interrupted by Stuart --

"No, please, be discrete."

Lydia was reading and smiling and shaking her head in disbelieve. I am smiling a lot today, she thought. Andrea came to her close, and hugged her, and even kissed her on the mouth. This would shock Lydia at any other time but not at this special moment. Only when she felt Andrea's hand under the towel she tensed. For a moment. Somehow it was all the same to her, she felt too good to object, she simply felt GOOD. Andrea looked back at Stuart, waiting for him, he nodded "Yes." His boxers were already on the floor. Lydia saw Stuart's slow rhythm behind Andrea, so dreamy, so musical, and once again she thought affectionately

"Stuart is soooo quick, already deep inside Andrea."

* * * * * * * *

It was dark outside. No moon, no lights. The wall and tall trees were protecting the park well.

Stuart moved a table to the center of the room. All three of them were fully dressed. The Lydia's new dress, provided by the host, looked very good on her. Stuart quickly prepared and served a meal. They ate in silence. Only half an hour ago the park was still green in the remaining daylight, and Lydia, exhausted by the events, made an error, she asked "Will I see you, Stuart, some time soon? ... Any time at all?!". Stuart's face was as serene as the park outside. Andrea only looked at Lydia.

They ate, they fortified themselves with a bit of wine, saying nothing. The women were subdued, Stuart had a pleasant but mysterious expression on his face. "Stuart-Buddha" -- thought Lydia and suddenly looked around the office and surprised to no end asked: "Where is the damage caused by the thugs?!"

"You mean, this?" Stuart asked, and without leaving his chair he reached all the way to the desk, clicked the mouse two-three times, after which Lydia could hear the familiar crescendo of the gun shots and the final "We will get you, BOY!".

Andrea was laughing her head off, while Lydia took a moment, shook her head and shouted at Stuart--"you son of a bitch!"

"I never heard you, Lydia, using such a language?!" said Andrea, "Why, Stuart is providing service AND entertainment", and she patted Lydia.

It was time to part. At the office exit door Andrea pinched Lydia slightly and said to Stuart--"nice dress!"

Lydia pouted "I liked mine better." They kissed Stuart and left. Stuart turned the light off and looked through the window. He could hardly make out the two silhouettes.

END



Investigative Journalism



Dawn Garth took a deep breath and pushed open the door. She took the five or six steps down that led through a curtained archway and into the spacious room. Nervously, the blond woman scanned the entire area. Her eyes swept over the bar, where a few stools were occupied, to the couples on the dance floor. She took in the row of tables on the far side as well as the booths scattered against the back wall.

In spite of her nervousness, her foot twitched to the music pouring from the bandstand in the far right hand corner. The lead singer had a deep, husky voice that made the lyrics come alive. The bass guitarist, the drummer, the keyboarder all were having a good time and their mood seemed to infect the whole club.

It had been a long time wince Dawn had heard a group throw themselves into a song like this one was doing. And even longer since she had heard an all-girl band. But then, after all, that made sense. For every person in the room, from the band to the muscular bouncers standing near her, to the blonde and redheaded bartenders, to each member of every single couple on the dance floor was a woman.

So what was she doing in a lesbian bar? That was the latest brainstorm of her boss, Rick Carter, the head of the News Division at the TV station where she worked.

"Dawn, I know you want to do something beyond fluff pieces. I understand that. I just don't have anything in mind right now."

"Rick, please. Come up with something. I want to be a serious journalist, not just the early morning female with the bright smile and the local weather and sports. God, the other day I saw my description in the newspaper's media guide. Do you know how it feels to be described as 'perky'? That's the equivalent of being described to a blind date as 'having a great personality'."

Rick groaned. "That's dirty pool, Dawn. However, let me look at what we have." He skimmed through the papers on his desk.

"How about investigating some reports of auto shop rip-offs?"

"Not that they don't need to be stopped, but we just did that a few months ago."

"Unlicensed day-care centers? Shoppettes selling out-of-date merchandise? Fast-food restaurant health code violations?"

Dawn shook her head at each one.

Rick grunted, his usual way of showing his patience was running short. Then he grinned, pulling a sheet of paper loose and fluttering it in front of Dawn.

"Here you go. This one you'll find interesting. There's a new club that opened in the downtown district recently, against strong opposition and protests. Why don't you go check it out? No cameras or anything. Just observations and your opinions. Heck, you can make it an editorial piece."

Dawn frowned as she snatched the piece of paper. "What in the world? I don't remember there being any commotion about a new club." Her jaw dropped. "Holy SHIT! 'The Other Side'? That's the lesbian club."

"Yep," Rick leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head.

"Is this some kind of joke Rick? Are we witch-hunting or something?"

"Absolutely not," her boss protested. "In fact, you might see this as an opportunity to disabuse some people of their stereo-types. Perhaps you can show that the women there come from all backgrounds and walks of life. Some may not even be lesbians, or whadda-ya-call them, bisexuals."

"Well, what would they be doing there then?" Dawn demanded.

"How should I know?" Rick shrugged. "YOU'RE the reporter."

Dawn shook her head and found herself back at the present when a calloused hand stroked her forearm.

"Hey there, pretty gal. All dressed up and no one to ride you?" Dawn turned her startled eyes on the woman standing next to her.

Dawn had known more than one lesbian in college and was well aware that they, like all people, came in a great variety of sizes, shapes and styles. This one though, practically screamed testosterone at her. About five-ten and solidly built, she wore cammie pants and a baggy tan shirt along with what looked to be desert boots.

"Maybe you'd like to come over to the private booth that my girlfriend and I have reserved." The butch female pointed towards the back wall, where a matching specimen was waving and pulling on a set of curtains that apparently closed around the booth.

"No, thank you," stammered Dawn. The other woman's grip tightened and she seemed amused by Dawn's confusion and her lack of response.

"Back off, Delaney," came another voice. Dawn looked to see someone she assumed was one of the female bouncers standing by them, her arms folded under her breasts. It surprised Dawn that the woman, although showing signs of a lot of working out, looked remarkably feminine. Her make-up was perfect and the dress she wore was cut to flatter her figure."

"Shit, Gummer, I ain't scared of you," the woman holding Dawn's arm snarled.

"Well that's good Delany, 'cause I sure as hell ain't scared of you, or your pal over there or a dozen more like you. You're free to hit on all the regulars you want, but when someone backs off, you let them back off. Now go sit down and have a beer. Sammie will be in later and you know she loves those games you play."

The butch woman wavered. "What business is this of yours anyway? You don't work here."

"A friend saw you acting your usual demure self towards someone she knows and said something about it. Since I like her I thought I might have a word with you. So I'm having one. Do we need to go beyond words?"

Delaney growled a curse and stalked off. Reaching her booth, she pushed the other female in and pulled the curtains closed behind them.

"Sorry about that," smiled the muscular woman. "Women like her give the term 'Hard-core butch' a bad name." She offered her hand. "I'm Jenn Gumm, but everyone calls me Gin. Except Delaney and her crowd. They think I'm some sort of Uber-femme or domme because I like to work out."

"I'm Dawn," the woman replied without thinking as she shook hands. "Crap," she thought, "I was supposed to use some other name." Upon further consideration she realized that lying probably wouldn't have worked anyway, as whom ever had sent Gin to her rescue must already know who she was. Better to be honest.

Gin lead Dawn towards one of the tables on the far side of the dance floor. Her hand rested lightly on Dawn's shoulder. At first, Dawn wasn't sure how comfortable she was with the other woman's touch. After a moment, she relaxed and accepted it. Gin wasn't stroking her or moving her hand around. It was just a friendly gesture.

Dawn's eyes darted around the club as she followed Gin's lead. There were all sorts of women here. No Deputy Mayor, a detached part of her mind thought to mention, but other women that she recognized. There was the owner of the exclusive book store in the downtown district. Dawn had done a story on her when the shop first opened. Dawn's eyes opened wide as she saw the woman who handled the station employees' 401K plan. She was dancing with another woman she knew, a female police officer who had assisted her one night when her car had broken down.

The only real shock was when she saw Daphne. Daphne was the Assistant to the Superintendent of Schools for the county. She was also married. Dawn could see her ring sparkling on the woman's hand, a hand that was resting on the breast of another woman that Daphne was cuddling with in a booth where the curtains hadn't closed completely.

Lost in the surprises that were unfolding around her, Dawn almost bumped into the table in front of her. Only Gin's steadying hand on her shoulder kept her from doing just that.

"Well, here she is. All safe and sound. The two of you have fun." Gin turned and headed back to the door. Just for a second Dawn thought she felt Gin's hand brush against her side.

"Thanks Gin. Hi Dawn. Fancy meeting you here."

Dawn struggled to keep her mouth from falling open as she looked at the woman sitting at the table. This was a night for surprises. She managed to hold on to her composure. "Ah, hello Mandy."

"Have a seat," the other woman offered, pushing out a chair. Dawn sat down, her gaze fixed on the woman across the small table. Mandy! Who would have thought it? 

Mandy Pearson was a customer service representative at the bank Dawn used. She was about the same age as Dawn, right around twenty-five and single. She was slightly taller than Dawn, topping her own five foot, four inch frame by a couple of inches. She was a bit more slender than Dawn. with smaller breasts and narrower hips. Dawn found it surprising that she was comparing Mandy's body with hers.

"The whole place must be affecting me," the reporter thought. She almost giggled to herself. Well, perhaps it was. But it just seemed right to be checking out the other women all of a sudden.

"To repeat myself, this is a surprise Dawn. I never expected to find you here."

"I have to say the same thing Mandy. How did you come to be here yourself?"

Mandy raised her eyebrows. "Now that sounds like a reporter-type question. Are you here doing a piece for your station?"

"No," blurted Dawn. She met Mandy's eyes, and realized that she didn't want to lie to the other woman. "Okay, yes, in a way." Seeing the doubt on Mandy's face she plunged on. "I AM on assignment, but I'm not going to naming anyone's name or bringing a camera crew in here. I'm not bound to any preconceived ideas." She laughed. "In fact, I suspect the whole idea was my boss' idea for getting me off his back and if I don't turn in anything at all he won't care."

"How do you feel about that?"

"About what?" Dawn replied in puzzlement.

"About not turning anything in. Are you going to be feeling that you've wasted your time otherwise?"

Dawn, to give her credit, thought before answering. "No, I'm not going to feel like I've wasted my time." She laughed and nodded towards the booths along the wall. Its already been quite an educational evening."

"Okay then," Mandy laughed with her. "How about a drink and then we can gossip about all the other women you keep turning your head to look at.

"Mandy!" Dawn gasped, torn between indignation and laughter. She relaxed and sat back in her chair. Mandy corralled a passing waitress and they decided to share a pitcher of beer. They began to talk over it. Their discussion ranged over a number of subjects but steered clear of the other women and the reasons they might be in the club. Indeed, the club itself wasn't a topic, other than the safe subjects of the coldness of the beer and the loudness of the band.

By the time they had started on the second pitcher they had shifted their chairs to sit next to each other. Dawn had not given the slightest thought in quite a while that Mandy, after all, appeared to be a frequent customer here. She was just an acquaintance who was rapidly becoming a friend.

The band changed gears and Dawn found her fingers tapping the table top in time to the music. Mandy had crossed her legs and leaned back earlier and her foot was swinging to the same beat. She pushed back her chair and stood up.

"Let's dance?" Mandy gestured towards the hardwood floor.

Dawn thought about refusing for all of five seconds. "Why?", she told herself. After all, she reasoned, the band had been playing a series of fast songs. And she DID feel like dancing. She nodded and rose.

"Great." Mandy grabbed Dawn's hand and led her out to the dance floor. Dawn followed, swerving to avoid other tables and couples in the way. Once they reached the hardwood Mandy released Dawn's fingers and the two women began to dance to the music.

Dawn was enjoying herself. After all, it had been a long time since she had been out dancing. With her job normally requiring her to arrive at the station around 4 in the morning, she had rather lost the habit of being out late at night, even thought few people would have considered this hour as "late". She and Mandy danced well together, both of the women enjoying the music. Dawn focused on the beat to such a point that the fact she was dancing with another woman was almost forgotten.

That fact was brought back to her attention with a sudden jerk, as the band segued into a slow number. Without asking, or making any kind of fuss about it, Mandy stepped up to Dawn and took her in her arms. The banker held the journalist close and began to sway her to the softening music as the lights dimmed.

Dawn stiffened in Mandy's embrace and then tried to relax. It was just a dance, it didn't mean anything. After all, she had danced with lots of guys and it didn't mean she was attracted to them or anything like that. But the warmth of Mandy's body, the scent of Mandy's perfume, and the softness of Mandy's breasts against hers made it clear that this was not like dancing with someone she didn't find attractive.

The music slowed, and then stopped. The lights were almost extinguished. Mandy released Dawn, only to cup the other woman's chin and lift it just enough to brush her lips over Dawn's. Dawn closed her eyes, uncertain of how to respond.

"Oh GOD, she must think I'm gay also," swept through Dawn's mind. "What do I do?" But she did nothing as the soft red lips began to cling to her own, as the grasp of Mandy's arm around her waist tightened. Emboldened by Dawn's apparent surrender, Mandy's tongue slipped into Dawn's mouth and the kiss deepened, even as Mandy's other arm circled Dawn's body and drew her close, pulling the reporter's body tightly against her own. The kiss grew deep and Dawn, in spite of herself, felt a feeling coming over her she had never considered. But yes, the kiss of another woman, the feel of another woman's body against hers was sending signals deep into her.

Dawn struggled with herself, not from any feeling of repugnance or disgust, just from the sense that she was crossing a line that she could never go back across. Then, Mandy's hand brushed over her breast. It was such a fleeting touch that its effect on Dawn seemed all out of proportion. Dawn found herself kissing Mandy back. And more than just the press of lips, for a long moment two tongues found themselves sliding over each other.

When that moment passed, Dawn managed to pry open her eyes to see Mandy looking at her. The expression on the other woman's face was just as amazed as the one that Dawn felt was on her own.

"Goodness," said Mandy. "I need to sit down." Suiting her actions to her words, she headed back to their table, where she filled both mugs, drinking off half of hers in one long swallow before sitting down. 

Dawn followed slowly, her head still buzzing. "What just happened?" She flushed as she realized that she had spoken aloud.

"I'm not sure," said Mandy. She seemed as confused as Dawn was.

Dawn took a deep breath. Mandy needed to know that what had just happened on the dance floor didn't mean anything. Nothing at all.

"Mandy," Dawn hesitated. The other woman looked at her quizzically. Dawn plowed on. "Mandy, I'm not a lesbian!"

Of all things she expected, Dawn did not expect the corners of Mandy's mouth to turn up. Then she started shaking slightly. Then she was laughing out loud. This time Dawn was unable to keep her mouth from falling open.

"Oh Dawn," Mandy calmed down and covered Dawn's hands with hers. "I'm not a lesbian either. I am attracted to other women, the same as many others here. More than anything else though, I find this a nice place to relax and enjoy myself without being continuously hit on. I certainly don't rule out getting married to a guy one day. I like guys. its just right now I feel more comfortable with other women. For me in comes in cycles. In six months or a year I may be only dating guys again. We'll just see what happens."

Dawn relaxed, understanding more of Mandy and accepting it, and her new friend. They shared yet another pitcher of beer and a number of more dances, slow and fast. When closing time came, they decided to share a cab rather than drive home under the influence. Each carefully locked up her own car. Without much spoken discussion they settled into the back seat of the taxi, heading towards Mandy's apartment first.

On the way they whispered about mostly nothing and giggled. Part of their antics were for the benefit of the driver, who knew darn well what kind of place he had picked two women up from.

Still, the snuggling together produced its own results. They held hands and leaned against each other. Dawn found Mandy's legs enticing, peeking from under her skirt. When they reached the first destination they both stepped from the cab, Dawn paying the driver and tipping him generously since he wouldn't be going on to the second stop.

They stepped through the door of Mandy's apartment. The moment she closed the door behind them, Dawn was in her arms. The kiss, broken at the club's dance floor, resumed. This time there was no hesitation. Dawn's mouth opened and Mandy plunged her tongue inside. Dawn shrugged out of her jacket, letting fall to the floor. 

Mandy's hand was on her breast again. This time though, it was no fleeting brush. Her fingers deftly unfastened the buttons of Dawn's blouse until they could slip into the opening. One tip ran along the cup of Dawn's bra, the nail gliding over the flesh spilling from the lace.

Dawn gasped and her own hands responded, hauling the taller woman's blouse from her skirt. her hands slid up under it, caressing the firm stomach, then circling around to the smooth skin of the back and rising until eager fingers could fumble at the catches to the bra.

Mandy stepped from her heels, bringing her to the same height now as Dawn. Their mouths locked together. Mandy pushed Dawn backwards, the other woman following her lead as they reeled through the living room and down the hallway. The passage was littered by scattered clothing. Mandy's skirt fell by Dawn's suit jacket. Several steps later first there was one blouse, then the other. Dawn's shoes marked the beginning of the hallway, her slacks the end of it. Mandy's black lace bra lodged on the top of the bedroom door, Dawn's white one on a chest at the foot of the bed. Then Dawn was stretched on the covers, Mandy bending over, still kissing her as she strove to pull the reporter's pantyhose down her legs. The bank officer's black panties were her only remaining garb, their French cut emphasizing the length of her smooth legs.

Mandy stood, almost triumphant as she stripped the sheer nude pantyhose from Dawn. The white cotton panties the reporter had been wearing under them came free also. Mandy's gaze ran up Dawn's legs, beginning at her red painted toenails and traveling all the way up to her eyes. The two woman locked gazes. Never losing eye contact, Mandy bent over, pushing he panties down her legs and stepping from then. Still fastened on the other's wide open eyes, The standing woman lowered herself to the bed. Her hand touched Dawn's hip.

As though that gentle touch completed a circuit, the two women flung themselves together. Arms circled the other's bodies. Legs intertwined, muscles straining as they sought to crush each other closer and closer. Dawn felt Mandy's thigh jam itself between her legs and she began to squirm against its smooth firmness. The dark hair of her bush slid up and down, leaving a trail of the wetness that was already flowing from her.

Mandy was on top, her leg flexing and relaxing as she ground that thigh against Dawn's swollen labia. The two women kissed wildly, their tongues dueling. A hand once again closed on Dawn's breast, squeezing it and flicking the stiff nipple back and forth with her fingers.

Dawn slid one hand down Mandy's back until her fingers locked on the other woman's butt. At the same time, she wiggled her other hand between them, searching until she cupped Mandy's mound. Her thumb found the stiff nubbin it was searching for at the same time that two fingers plunged between already open lips and deep into the silky cavern of Mandy's womanhood.




Investigative Journalism



The woman on top squealed and redoubled her kisses, caresses and the motion of her leg. Dawn, not completely sure of what to do, simply fingered Mandy as though she was touching herself. It worked. Mandy ground her leg almost savagely against her pussy. Fingers pulled and pinched her nipple. She responded by rubbing her thumb faster and harder against Mandy, circling and the pressing upon the other woman's clit.

Dawn strained up under Mandy. She could feel the slick skin rasping back and forth. The weight of the woman topping her meant the top of each leg grind mashed against her own clit. She felt Mandy suddenly clamp down on her fingers, trapping them inside her. The TV reporter rode her lover's thigh, locking her legs around the limb between then. She cried out, jamming her hand as far into Mandy as she could, even as the other woman screamed hoarsely as she fell against her. 

The waves shooting through both women rendered them speechless, but not motionless. Once Mandy had recovered her breath, she kissed the other woman and then began to work her way down the attractive body under her. She raised herself up, away from Dawn, allowing only fleeting contact between their bodies. Only her lips and her dark hair touched the smooth skin under her, a skin that was slick and covered in goosebumps.

Mandy tried to take her time, tried to tease her new lover, make her beg for what Mandy was so eager to give. She managed to hold herself together as she kissed the white throat and chest, managed to remain in control as her tongue flicked back and forth at the hard nipples. But when Dawn cried out as the taller woman's hair brushed over those same nipples, when Dawn's tummy sucked in at Mandy's first nibbles, when eager fingers locked into her hair and pushed, Mandy lost any semblance of restraint.

Wildly she slipped down between Dawn's open legs. Pausing for no longer than an instant to savor the rich scent of Dawn's arousal, she plunged her tongue inside her friend, already dripping wet with the results of Dawn's first orgasm. Mansy closed her eyes and revelled in the taste of Dawn. Her hands slipped up to tease Dawn's breasts. Her fingers curled, running just the tips over the firm orbs.

Dawn was already bucking again under Mandy's touch. The blonde's fingers gripped the dark head bobbing between her legs. Mandy's tongue rasped in and out of Dawn, reaching deeper into her pussy with each stroke. Faster and faster the more experienced woman's tongue darted into the wet tunnel, farther and farther it reached. Dawn squirmed almost helplessly, her hips lifting and falling. Mandy rode her lover's gyrations, her lips, tongue and fingers never leaving Dawn's body.

"Mandy, oh God, oh GOD, OHHH GOD," Dawn cried out. Her body arched, locking in the air and then suddenly collapsing on to the bed as she came again.

Finally heart rates slowed and breathing began to return to normal. The two women relaxed, cuddling against each other. Mandy's last act before they fell asleep was to pull the coverlet from the foot of bed over their nude bodies.

The rest of the weekend was like a dream. The two women snuggled, made love again, and again. For the first time Dawn went down on another woman. They scrubbed each other in the shower, only to start up again. By the time Dawn finally went home Sunday afternoon she was so happily exhausted she was quite sure she would never be interested in having sex again.

Monday morning came. Dawn, along with her team-mates on the early show, worked through the local news for the two hours they were on the air. They sat back and relaxed as the national news program took over. Dawn's mind was still in a whirl over the weekend.

Just as a matter of personal interest, she turned her attention on Josh, who shared the news desk with her. The two of them had a good working relationship and a teasing attitude existed between them. Josh was married, with a darling baby girl. She had always found him attractive, although she would have never made the slightest move on him.

Now she regarded him through changed eyes. Where they changed? She still thought of him as handsome. She mentally undressed him. Not as smooth and as curvy as Mandy by any means. Still, a smile flickered across her face, she wouldn't mind someone like him but unattached. Mandy was right. She hadn't closed any doors, she had just opened a new one.

Rick bustled in to the studio. "Good show everyone," he boomed. After talking to Josh, he approached her.

"Hey. Come up with anything interesting? Find the Deputy Mayor or anyone else there the public would want to know about? Dawn shook her head. She was saved from any further questioning as Rick continued. "Well, never mind. I've got a much better story for you anyway. We've received a tip that there's some funny business going on with the bail bond system in the local courts. Want the story?"

Dawn grinned, "You bet."

"Its yours. Do the digging and if you come up with anything legitimate you can count on some serious air time." Rick laughed and gripped Dawn's shoulder for a second. "You might still be 'perky' but you'll be serious perky. Come by the office in an hour and we'll set it all up."

He turned and started off. Looking back he added, "Seriously, do you want to do anything more on that other piece?"

Dawn shook her head. "I'm going to finish a couple of things I was looking into but then I'll just file my notes."

"Okay, an hour then." 

Dawn headed off to her desk. Her hand slipped into her purse, touching the piece of paper she had found in her jacket pocket when she had finally got home on Sunday. The note had a phone number on it and a simple message.

"Call me. Jenn."

"Yes," Dawn thought. There was at least one more thing about that story she needed to look into.

(The End)