(Author’s note: I wanted something with a sense of humor today. Thinking about making this a series. Please leave notes in the comments as to whether or not you would like to see more).
I have three rules:
1) Never date a woman whose brothers have knife scars
2) Never chase women or buses; you’ll always get left behind
and
3) Never attend a party where you have to have an alias
Tonight, I was going to break all three. It’s murder at Howard’s house and I, Billy Wilson (P.I.), was in attendance.
It was a dark and stormy night, ok. Yeah, cliche, but it actually was; get over it. Old man Howard had finally kicked the bucket. The greedy little bastard choked on a chicken wing and literally kicked over his KFC.
Tonight was the designated reading of his will. I was there as muscle for one of his former mistresses, Aliba Pine. Since their last encounter, Ms. Pine was worried about Mrs. Howard something about being beaten with a cucumber.
Anyway, each guest in attendance could receive a fortune as the Howards own a large dildo supply company, servicing women since 1908. Unsurprisingly, security was tighter than a Sasha Grey’s puckered ass. While I was on bodyguard duty, Slim McConner, a devout Irish whiskey drinker, was on door patrol. Heads Peterson was roaming patrol; he was built like 3 tons of scrap iron, so anyone looking for a tussle would have their hands full.
That afternoon, I had met with Ms. Pine to arrange pick-up details and my fee. As I cleaned my snub-nosed .38, it occurred to me that there may be a need for some backup with that much cash on the table. I packed an extra set of cuffs and a duster just in case.
Now, being shorter than average does have some advantages. People tend to ignore you when they don’t want to talk directly to you. They also don’t guard their tongue as much with someone they think is beneath them. I had heard enough through the grapevine to know the guests for tonight included two fellas whose “man meat” were the inspiration for several lines of dildos and Mrs. Howard’s infidelity.
Also in attendance was one Tasha Suckly, a renowned porn starlet and rumored to be Mr. Howard’s last “guest.” The Howards’ twin children rounded up off the list.
Now, Gabe and Beth Howard were in their early 20’s, but the rumor mill put their sexual exploits somewhere in three lifetimes’ worth. Scandalous videos and photos of the two peppered the internet and were, at one time, a top-five topic on Fishbook.
So, here I am, back at the office, Ms. Pine detailing her intention to attend while I sit idly brushing the mussel of my .38. Her whiskey smooth voice washes over me, and I’m no longer listening to a word she’s saying. I gaze over her body, disconnectedly wondering what the pay for this gig would be.
Aliba was short, at 5′ 4″, her small frame seemed at odds with her big “personality”; two globes of flesh strained against her black “morning” dress. Aliba’s lips, covered in deep red satin lipstick, parted as she spoke. When she came into my office, I couldn’t help but notice that tucked ass, full to the brim of her skirt.
She had finally run down to a sputter, rambling something about never eating another salad again, when I spoke up.
“This all sounds well and good, Ms. Pine, but I’m afraid I will need payment in advance.” Only fools get paid with promise money.
“Look, I can’t pay your rate if we could settle up after I get my cut of the inheritance…” she began.
“I wasn’t born yesterday, Ms. Pine. ‘Cash, Grass, or Ass, nobody rides for free.’ as the saying goes.” Bills don’t pay themselves, I thought grimly.
Aliba Pine sat in stunned silence for a moment. I could see the gears turning in her mind, mulling over what to do. This wasn’t my first rodeo.
“Look, I’ll tell you what, I know I’m the best in the business, 100% satisfaction rate with all my jobs. I’ll give your number to Leroy Slick; he’s good. Not as good as I am. But he’s got a solid reputation.” A reputation for being a backstabbing bastard and perv, that is.
That seemed to seal the deal for her. I’ll owe Leroy a drink after this, assuming I don’t kill the fucker first.
“W-what kind of ‘ass’ are we talking?” She even managed to say that sexily.
“Hmm? Never really had a customer offer that in exchange for services.” I’m going to Hell, but I’ll be damned if I don’t enjoy the ride.
I gave her a once over, they tend to expect that, and my eyes fell again on those lush lips. Geezus, to see those lips wrapped around all of me just got me harder than Trig class with Ms. Wartworst.
I clambered out from behind my desk and moved toward her. Her eyes drew immediately to the now only person doing the talking: my cock. I unzipped and freed my meat.
Now, I’m not packing a heater in these boxers, but she still gasped a little at the sight. I caressed her hair away from her face, long dark brown hair glided back easily behind her ears, and pulled her in towards my cock. Her head moved voluntarily with my hand, no fighting or pushing away.
The instant her lips touched my tip, I knew she was a winner. There was an expert way she parted her lips, gliding those rubies along my shaft, leaving a smear of lipstick. Her tongue followed her mouth. With me inside her, I could feel her tongue wrap around my tip and move up and down my shaft, jerking me off.
With one hand, she reached up to pull my balls out. She taunted them, teased them with her fingers. She alternated pulling off my cock to lock and suck on each globe, then returning to her position on my member.
She was a damn pro at this. Something tells me I should have held out longer, but her mouth working on my cock and balls was too much. Within minutes of her devouring my cock, she shoved herself throat deep on my shaft. That was it. Too damn much!
She was ready for my first jet; she must have felt the build-up. I felt her throat constrict around my tip as she swallowed. I was spiraling out with each spurt.
With one last grunt and shiver, I pushed myself into her mouth as far as I could go, my balls resting against her chin. She sputtered, tried to push off, then pulled me in again. I pulled out of her mouth and she gasped, drooling for air.
It took a moment but, she composed herself; lipstick smeared a bit but, otherwise, back to cool form. I put my now-soaked manhood back into my trousers and zipped up.
A full minute passed, neither of us saying anything. Then she spoke up, “I trust that qualifies as a proper downpayment?” a cool tone belying the heat in her eyes.
“I believe I will take this job; just remember, I expect payment in full after the reading, regardless of whether you get anything or not,” I said, secretly hoping she gets squat. Gawd what I wouldn’t give for another, “payment”.
She nodded and out the door she went, gliding, hips swaying in lushes form.
To Be Continued?
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/p90fbm/billy_wilson_pi_part_1_oral_mf_dubcon