Marlowe free porn video

If you're not an adult or interested in stories with strong sexual content, then don't read any further. All rights reserved by the Author. This may be re-posted on the Internet on free sites such as Fictionmania, Sapphire's Place or other non-pay sites where stories are distributed for free to the public. Just send me an e-mail telling me where you've posted it. Marlowe By Waldo ([email protected]) Chapter 1 - The Client My name is Marlowe. I'm a Private Dick but before you get your bowels all uptight, that just means that I'm a detective. I'm not "that Philip Marlowe" although my business card just has the last name on it so that people subconsciously link me with that famous detective to get me some more work. My first name is Darrel. Now you see why I go by just my last name. Darrel Marlowe doesn't have the same zip or image power that the name Philip Marlowe has. My ex-wife says that I'm more of a dickhead than a Private Dick. She said in our last court hearing that there was nothing private about my dick at all. She said that I shared my dick with every sleazy two-bit whore in the many bars up and down Sunset Strip. That certainly wasn't true. There were several bars that I wouldn't go into because of the clientele, several other bars that I was barred from just because of my rough and rambunctious younger days, and several two-bit whores that I somehow missed when I was going through that phase of my "we both know our marriage is over" stage. I went into business for myself about four months ago. My experience to get my license was based upon my six glorious years on the LA Police Force's Homicide Squad. Would have stayed longer with them and eventually retired from the Police Force to someday manage a bar in Florida but toward the end of my shortened police career, there was a bit of trouble where it was widely rumored that I roughed up a suspect. I didn't touch the bastard. It just so happened that he accidentally fell and I just happened to have my fist balled up when he fell on my fist, resulting in his nose being broken while he was in my custody. They didn't buy my excuse that it was an accident because I claimed that he accidentally fell on my fist twice in a five second period. If he hadn't been the bratty nephew of some big-shot Senator, I would still be on the force. I argued at my hearing that if I had known at the time that it was going to cost me my job, he would have fallen a couple of hundred times. The bastard was a real prick with no respect for the law or me. I specialize in missing persons now. After all, the police force currently has a monopoly on being the only ones who can work on murder cases which doesn't leave too much else for those of us with no other skills. So it's a very narrow market and I have to work where there's some potential work. Only work has been slow lately. Very slow. So slow that you can find me sitting at my desk almost every day waiting for some customer to call me. I usually sit in the dark and smoke cigarettes while I'm waiting. I sit in the dark because my deal with my landlord is that I also pay my electrical bill so because my client case load is low, I sit in the dark a lot. I've had some cases since I opened my office. Six to be exact. So I've been gainfully employed by customers about three weeks out of the last four months. And my biggest case so far hasn't paid off because my missing person's lawyer is still doing the typical court delay tactic and I don't get paid until I testify in court. It could be two years before I see that three thousand four hundred and seventeen dollars. But that is the name of the game. I knew it when I went into this business of being a Private Dick but I didn't have too much choice. After all, where else can a thirty-five year old burly ex-cop who was washed out of the police force on brutality charges go to make a living? So I specialize in Missing Persons but I won't turn down any case that pays me my expenses plus at least two-hundred-fifty a day. I would even look for a missing dog if the reward were high enough. I'm good at what I do. Mainly that's because I'm very suspicious of everyone from my six years on the Homicide Squad. I'm so suspicious that my ex-wife says that I'm also the most paranoid person that she ever met. I'm not sure yet if that was a compliment or a put-down. You see in this business, you can't take anything for granted and have to be suspicious of everything and everyone until you've actually confirmed the facts. Even the facts that your customer has provided you. Customers always lie. Customers are always very self-serving. *** June 12th. It was a hot day. Every day is hot in Hollywood. I was sitting at my desk with my feet propped up on the desk and enjoying the slight breeze from the overhead fan. I've got air conditioning in my office but seldom use it because the fan is much cheaper. My lights were turned off to conserve electricity as usual and the only light in the room was coming in through the drawn blinds from the outside noonday sun. I keep the blinds closed to keep the summer heat out and also so that the noisy neighbors across the street can't peek in at me. There's another couple of Detective firms across the street and they enjoy looking at my office to see that I don't have any clients and that I am spending most of my time with my feet propped up on my desk. I thought that I had found a customer that morning. While reading the newspaper, I saw where a man's wife had ran off with his best friend and dog. Yeah, the best friend was fucking the old lady and the two lovers skipped town taking the hubby's dog with them. So I called the hubby to offer my services for a reduced fee just because "I didn't like to see anyone lose their pets". He didn't buy that phony attempt to drum up some business and told me that he was glad that the bitch was gone then hung up. Don't know if he was talking about his wife or the dog. Yep, it's slow. Then I heard the elevator door open on my floor. I share the floor with four other tenants but they use their office space more as a mail drop than as an active office environment so we get very little traffic on this floor. I could hear the hard click of high heels echoing from the hallway corridor so I knew it was a woman and I was trying to estimate her height and weight by the sound of her footsteps. Hey, if Sherlock Holmes can visualize that type of analysis, so can I. I don't know why but I knew that the woman was probably a babe. After all, only a luscious babe would be wearing high heels at two p.m. on a hot June day in LA. Was she a blonde, brunette or redhead? She had to be going to Gerald's Accounting Service at the end of the hallway because he was the only one on this floor who ever got any visitors. I also deduced that if she was a client of Gerald's, then she didn't have any money and was probably a hooker. Gerald specializes in that sort of customer and every once in awhile, a really nice piece of ass walked down the hall. Hey, I even know several of Gerald's clients either professionally from my old days on the Homicide Squad or from my days when I had a couple of bucks burning a hole in my pocket. I had just decided that she was a blonde because almost every woman in LA is a blonde when her footsteps stopped just outside my door. Quietly easing my feet off of the desk and dropping to a more professional sitting-up straight position, I held my breath as I tried to figure out what she was doing. Either she was reading my name on the door or she was lost and getting ready to call someone on her cell phone for directions. Then I saw the door handle turn and the unlocked door opened. I wished that I had the lights on at that moment so it didn't look as if I was sleeping. Sleeping! That's it. I'll pretend that I was about to take a quick nap because I was out following a suspect all night. That particular excuse worked several times with my ex-wife. The bright lights in the corridor blasting into the office blinded me so that all I could see was her outline against the relatively bright hallway lights. That was barely enough light for me to tell that she was tall and built like a brick shithouse. But that was enough of a glimpse of her for Richard to decide that he liked her. That's what I call my partner between my legs. Richard sounds better than dick or cock. Women like it when you give personal names to your body parts. Yeah, Richard liked what he saw. Or rather liked what he couldn't see because it was only the outline of a tall woman with long legs, wide hips and long shoulder-length hair standing in the doorway. When she timidly asked, "Is anyone in there?" in a husky sexy voice that reminded me of that Lauren Bacall sexy woman character who stood in a doorway and asked for a match, I thought of several witty replies. Fortunately I didn't use them. "Come in. I was out on a case all night and was just resting my eyes." Leaping to my feet, I came around my desk and rushed to the open door as I tried to make out her features. Flipping on the light switch quickly illuminated my office and the front of my visitor so that I could see her without staring into the too bright light behind her. Richard definitely liked what I was looking at. This was one luscious babe standing in my doorway. Being a Private Dick, I immediately memorized all of her features. She was tall. I'm five foot ten and her twinkling green eyes were an inch higher than my eyes but she also was standing in three-inch high heels so I guessed her to be about five foot eight or nine. The next thing that I noticed was the exposed cleavage and a set of man-made boobs that I guessed filled a 36 or 38 D bra. While her cleavage looked real, I'm an expert at determining if the boobs are real or fake. Although they looked very real, I knew that they were fake ones that had been created by a skilled and expensive surgeon. She was a blonde. Long silken curls in a full hairstyle that must take her an hour or two every day just to brush it into the way that it looked now. Her face was the next thing that I noticed. Twinkling green eyes with just enough makeup to call attention to her eyes but enough makeup to make the rest of her gorgeous face look very natural. Her perky slender nose and high cheekbones showed that she had an ethnic background which appeared to be Norwegian. Her perfect lips were the type of lush voluptuous lips that you see in lipstick advertisements where you just want to pretend that you will one day be able slide your Richard into lips as perfect as that. If my ex-wife had a pair of luscious lips like this babe's lips, I would still be married to the old woman. Naw, on second thought the main thing that I didn't like about my ex, was my wife's frequently too big mouth. I saw a woman in a movie recently that looked a lot like this babe. The actresses name was Nicole Kidman so I filed that fact in my mind. I also filed away that this woman's tits looked much greater than that actress's little boobs. Still playing Sherlock, I decided that not only was this babe a very beautiful woman, but she also had a lot of money. After all, how many women can afford to look the way that she looked. I knew that the realistic boobs were expensive and looking at her face, I quickly decided that she had probably had a little bit done to her face also. After all, a face as perfect as her face typically isn't natural. And she was dressed in an expensive china white cocktail dress that showed off her curvy figure in addition to showing off just the right amount of cleavage to be almost acceptable by most old church-going biddies. The expensive designer's white shoulder- less dress made her tanned arms, upper chest and long slender legs look darker, as well as confirmed that she wasn't hiding a pistol under her clothes. The way that expensive designer dress hugged her body showed that she probably didn't have any panties on although there was just the barest tell-tale sign of a strapless lacy bra under the dress. While she looked soft and cuddy, her firm shoulders showed that she spent a lot of time swimming in the pool as well as spending time beside the pool to have such a nice tan. Long dangling golden earrings hung from each ear that I knew had to set some man back at least ten thousand and there was a delicate gold chain around her slender neck that probably cost more than my old car was currently worth. She was carrying a small white purse, one of those small hand purses that women take to cocktail parties that only had enough room for a credit card, a tampon, a pack of cigarettes and a house key. Yeah, she looked to be in her middle twenties, about five foot eight, one hundred and forty portioned pounds of perfect womanhood. Richard was getting huge, heavy and hot as I checked her out. "Are you Mister Marlowe?" Her question startled me from my re-examination of her breasts. I glanced back up at her gleaming eyes as I mentally changed my previous evaluation to 38 small D or large C. "Uh yes, please come in. Sorry I wasn't expecting any one and had just finished a case so I was resting my eyes for a few moments. One of the benefits of being your own boss is that you can take a nap when you feel like it." I moved out of the doorway and she walked by me, leaving a trail of the most delightful delicate scent that caused Richard to leap to attention so hard that he almost slapped against my belly. I don't know what the name of the perfume was that she was wearing but I knew that it had to be expensive. I also noticed that her body when seen from the side was an almost perfect model's straight shape. And when seen from behind, well, let's just say that Richard almost did an unmentionable in my underwear. I'm a boob man but she had a perfect ass and her tight dress showed how shapely perfect her ass was. I could only stand and watch as she moved by me and headed to the client's chair in front of my desk. As she sat down, I grimaced because I knew that there was probably dust on that chair from my lack of clients and she was going to get her impossibly white dress dirty from sitting on my chair. Moving around the desk to my chair, I noticed that she was sitting on the edge of her chair and holding her back stiff while clutching the purse tightly in her long delicate fingernails. For the first time I noticed that her long fingernails had polish that matched her lipstick and I wondered if her toe nails also matched. I felt a silent inquiry from Richard as Richard was suggesting to me that I should look at her feet and maybe politely suck on her toes a little to get to know my visitor better but I ignored him. Richard has frequently got me in trouble. As I sat down in my chair, she spoke again in that type of husky bedroom voice that reminded me of the great female sexpots of movie fame. "Mister Marlowe, my name is Tanya Browning. I hate to barge in on you without an appointment but I had to see someone today. I called the detective who is working on my case and he recommended you. A Lieutenant Harrison." Jeff Harrison. My frequent bar-hopping partner who I currently owed about three thousand dollars. He probably sent her to me to help me earn the money to pay him back. "Yes, I've worked on few cases with Lieutenant Harrison." Cases? Yes, cases of beer. Jeff and I have drunk a lot of beer and chased a lot of women together. "Mister Marlowe, I want you to find my missing husband for me." I glanced down at her cleavage again then back up at her very attractive face. I suddenly suspected that she was lying to me. A sane man wouldn't run away from a beautiful woman that looked as good as she looked. Hell, most men would have to be driven away with a baseball bat. Speaking of baseball bats, Richard was getting pretty heavy and large within my trousers. "How long has he been missing, Mrs. Browning?" "A little over two years now." I smelled something wrong. I've got a nose for trouble and when a beautiful woman says that her husband has been missing for over two years but she's just now seriously looking for him, there has to be more to the story. She was covering something up. Did I mention that I'm sometimes very paranoid and don't trust anyone? "Two years? It's very difficult to find people that are missing a few hours much less two years. Do you have any photographs of your husband?" She opened her purse and pulled out a floppy disk. I glanced at my computer and wondered if I remembered how to work the damn thing. Holding out the disk as she leaned forward slightly, my eyes traveled from the disk held delicately between her fingertips, up her long slender arm to the top of her dress. Her slight forward lean caused the dress to expose a little more of the top of her right breast. Right then and there, I gave her right breast a name. Juanita. Yeah, I named it Juanita because Richard was screaming "I wanta eata" at the sight of that lush mound barely contained within that tight dress. "My husband was a computer nerd and spent a lot of time prowling the Internet. When he left me, he destroyed all of my pictures of him. It was only recently that I found these old photographs of him on a web site." Rising out of my seat to walk around the desk to accept the disk from her, I discovered that Richard was causing my trousers to look like a tent and Richard was the tent pole. Turning toward the computer to hide the unusual shape within my trousers, I muttered a quick excuse that would explain why I was walking toward her in a sideways crab-like walk so that the front of my trousers was hidden from her view. "I'll turn my computer back on and let it warm up. Would you like a cup of coffee?" I was using the movement to keep the front of my trousers hidden from her. Flipping on the switch, I walked around my desk moving sideways as I went toward the coffee pot. "Yes, that would be nice, Mister Marlowe. I like plenty of cream in my coffee." I tried to ignore the electrical shock that seemed to burn a hole in my trousers because of the dual meaning of her request. Richard was screaming at me that he would put the cream in her coffee if I would just give him the chance to come out into the open. Pouring us both of a cup, I felt that I was lucky that I had one clean cup, which I used for her coffee. Standing at the coffee pot, I glanced back at her and saw that she was still holding the floppy and was looking at it with a sad look on her face. While she was busy, I used the opportunity to shove Richard into a more invisible position where he was restrained by my belt. Carrying a cup of coffee back to her, I handed her the cup and accepted the disk from her. Going back around my desk, I put the floppy into the drive slot as Richard screamed at me again, "I want to put my floppy into her slot." Ignoring the mental battle that I was having with my own body, I called up a program and looked at the files on the disk. There were about thirty bitmapped image files. Using my program, I called up the first one and was almost shocked at what I was seeing. It was a slender naked young man wearing a woman's cheap black wig. Oh, yeah, he was running his hands up the side of his body as if he was feeling a woman's body. He was on a cheap flowered couch, the type of couch usually found in hotel rooms. This was her husband? I didn't know what to say and was about to look at another image when she placed her coffee on my desk and moved around the desk so that she was standing behind my chair looking at the image over my shoulder. That close, I could strongly smell her wonderful perfume. "My husband was into kinky sex. No whips, chains or stuff like that. I could've handled that and would have gladly participated with him if it had been something like that. He was a secret cross- dresser when we married. I found out about it about two months after our wedding when I found a suitcase full of women's clothes and they weren't mine. He lied to me about whom they belonged to and why they were in our house. But I came home from the Beauty Parlor early one day and found him standing in front of a digital camera taking pictures of himself. It hurt me to see him like that. He was wearing black stockings held up by a garter belt, a bra filled with falsies, a woman's long curly red wig and lipstick. The suitcase was open and one of the dresses was lying on the bed as if he had just taken it off. Because I caught him in the act, he couldn't lie about his fetish anymore so he told me the truth. All his life he thought that he was a girl trapped in a man's body. He said that the only time that he felt natural was when he was dressed as a woman. He was taking the photographs of himself to send to someone on the Internet where he was having an e-mail type of relationship. Look at the third photograph." Staring at the man's photograph had caused Richard to go back to a more normal shrunken size. I gladly closed that photograph and called up the image that she suggested. It showed a photograph of the same man. He was dressed in fishnet stockings, high heels, a short red dress that displayed most of his legs, and one of those cheap women's wigs that you can buy through mail order. His wrists had several of those cheap K-mart type bracelets and there were several gaudy rings on his fingers. Big hoop earrings dangled from each ear and his lips were thickly coated with bright red lipstick. Using my mouse, I zoomed in on his face and blew it up. Although it became very grainy when I did that, I was able to get a better understanding of his facial features. Although the cheap wig's dangling locks covered a lot of his face, I was able to see enough to know roughly what he looked like. He had a long straight nose, brown eyes and thick eyebrows that suggested that he had a strong Italian heritage. It wasn't a rugged he-man type of face, even with the big nose. More of an always-going-to-look-like-a-kid's slender face. "That's one of the photographs that he took that day. While it certainly doesn't look like the Greg Browning that I married, it's the best photograph of his face that I currently have. He destroyed all the other photographs when he left me." Using my mouse, I sent a copy of the screen to my printer. As my printer clicked alive, I felt an unexpected warmth near my right shoulder. She was leaning over to look at the monitor and her left breast was only about an inch away from my shoulder. Richard, who had been quiet for the last several seconds, screamed at me to spin in my chair so that I could accidentally bump her breast with my nose. It would be a cheap thrill but when you're divorced, horny and broke, you have to go for what you can get. I ignored Richard because I didn't want to lose this case. I needed the money and she definitely had money. Her soft husky voice coming from barely over my shoulder caused Richard to rise to attention again. "Greg was a software genius. He created a program, which quickly made a fortune for us. When he left me, he left a paper on the table signing over all rights to the software to me as well as his share of our belongings so I'm now a multi-millionaire, thanks to him. Although I didn't understand his need to dress like that, I tolerated it because I loved him. What I couldn't tolerate was some of his other actions. Look at photograph five." While calling up that image, my mind was whirling with all sorts of questions as I made assumptions. I've got to get her to hire me to find her husband for her. Then I've got to spend at least one night in bed with her. Then I've got to get her to dump the husband and hook up with me. Once she was introduced to Richard, she was going to fall in love with me and forget about this creep forever. Yeah, I could go for having a rich beautiful girlfriend about now. Then I saw photograph five. Richard went from being a tent pole to being a wiggle worm immediately. It was a photograph of a man's ass with his pale white ass cheeks spread. The man was bent over with his ass in the air and his head turned to look back at the camera. He had on a cheap black wig that hid most of his face but I saw enough of his big nose to know it was her hubby. "Greg wasn't satisfied with just occasionally dressing up and taking photographs of himself. He liked to flirt so he took these photographs to see if he could find a boyfriend on the Internet. I suppose that he was trying to entice someone into sending him e- mail. Look at photograph eight." If the trend of the photographs was going to continue to get worse, then I personally didn't want to look at photograph eight. While I've dipped Richard into several women's anal openings over the years and greatly enjoyed it, seeing a man's wide-spread anal opening just didn't create the same erotic feelings for me. Looking at photograph eight, I felt Richard turn from being a wiggly worm to being a very limp small noodle. The photograph showed her hubby lying on a bed wearing the same black wig, lipstick and pantyhose. However he had an erection under the pantyhose that reached almost to his belly button. An erection so big and hard that Richard knew that he couldn't compete. "Greg was very well endowed. That was one of the reasons that I fell in love with him. I enjoy making love to a man with a big cock and Greg was able to consistently satisfy me." Hearing her husky voice say the words "big cock" only a few inches behind my right shoulder caused Richard to leap to life again. Yes, her missing husband did have a big cock but my Richard was determined to be just as big and hard. And her husband was missing while I was here with Richard all ready to solve this beautiful client's very personal needs. I was about to risk turning in my chair slightly and to bump my shoulder against her very close breast when she moved closer to me and rubbed that magnificent breast against the back of my shoulder as she pointed at the monitor with her long fingernail. Yeah, she rubbed her boob against my back, which pleased Richard and also me. So what if there were several layers of clothing between her boob and my flesh. I felt something through those layers that I knew had to be her nipple. She used her fingernail to trace the outline of her husband's erection on the grainy photograph on my computer screen. Her voice was getting huskier as if the photograph of her missing husband's erection was causing her hormones to leap into high gear. Seeing her red fingernail trace the outline of her missing husband's erection on the monitor caused me to want to run out to buy a digital camera to take some naked photographs of myself to give her. Richard was screaming at me that the image was Memorex and that he was the live thing. "Greg could fuck all night. I thought that I was the luckiest woman in the world until I saw this photograph and discovered that there were other things that turned him on even more than I could turn him on. Look at that beautiful erection. Even looking at it now under these circumstances is enough to cause me to feel all icky inside." SHE FELT ALL ICKY INSIDE? Lady, if I didn't need the money from this case, I would tell you exactly how I felt and then do my best to see if I could make you feel even more icky. Richard was throbbing within my trousers. Throbbing so hard that I could feel it in my temple. The throbbing was beating "fuck her, fuck her, fuck her, fuck her, fuck her" in a language that I clearly understood. "Sorry Mister Marlowe, I suppose that I shouldn't get so crud but I need to express to you how I feel. Although I was very confused when I found out about Greg's secret cross-dressing, I stayed with him because he could make me forget about his occasional little forays. When we were in bed, he was all man and he made me feel like the luckiest woman in the world. Every time that I would think about leaving him because I knew that he was doing something like taking these photographs or secretly corresponding with some of his buddies on the Internet, he would fuck me until I was so weak and mellow that I couldn't think straight. I'm a very sensual woman and need a lot of loving. Greg could give me that loving and most of the time we had a perfect marriage. Go to photograph nine please." I turned my head slightly to glance down at that perfect breast that was still touching my shoulder and let my gaze drift up to those perfect lips that just said, "fuck me". I felt beads of perspiration beginning to form on my forehead and Richard was throbbing so hard that I was afraid that he was going to rupture. I could see the headlines now "Dead Man found with exploded dick." It took a lot of self-control to turn my head back to the monitor and to call up photograph nine when I really wanted to jump to my feet, spin her around, bend her over my desk, jerk her dress up above her hips and show her that Richard could satisfy her just as much as her missing husband used to satisfy her. Photograph nine shocked me. The camera had been moved closer so it was placed between the man's spread ankles and was a shot up his body so that you saw his erection, flat pasty-white chest under a red bra and his face which was still half hidden by the cheap wig. He was still wearing the pantyhose but there was cum all over the inside of the pantyhose. It might have been my imagination but it seemed that her voice was even huskier. "Greg could produce an endless supply of cum. Sometimes when we were doing oral sex on each other, I would think that I was going to drown in what seemed like buckets of cum that he would squirt into my mouth. Just looking at that particular photograph makes me recall so many fond memories of lying in bed with him sucking on his cock and then how he would easily fill my mouth with his warm cum almost as fast as I could swallow it." As she was saying those words, I started losing total control of Richard. It felt like Richard was an oilrig in my trousers the way that I jerked and shuddered from the gusher exploding within my trousers. I couldn't help myself. Without any physical help from me but just from the sound of her sweet voice describing her sex life with her missing husband, the combination of events caused Richard to explode. I knew that she was aware that something was wrong with me because my hands were shaking, my lips were quivering and I was feeling a very warm liquid oozing down my belly within my trousers that Richard was discharging. That hadn't happened to me since the tenth grade when Betty Lou what's-her-name flashed her tits at me and then let me smell her finger in Study Hall. I felt her pull away from me and I bit my lip to try to regain control of my thinking process. This was a client. This was a client. Don't do anything to lose this fucking client. I want to fuck this client. She moved around my desk and picked up my pack of cigarettes from the desk as she looked at me a Mona Lisa smirking type of mysterious smile as if she knew why I was acting so funny all of a sudden. Shaking one of the cigarettes out, she slipped it into her mouth while she looked at me as if she was trying to decide if she should try to push me a little further. Knowing that I had to pretend that everything was normal with me as I felt that warm liquid within my trousers, I fumbled for the lighter and flicked it into a small flame. Holding the cigarette in very tightly pursed lips, she bent over my desk toward the lighter. Her slender hands grabbed my still shaking wrist to hold the lighter's flame rigid as she guided the cigarette in her beautiful red lips toward the lighter's flame. I was staring down her open bodice at her tits hanging perfectly like two beautiful orbs. If I hadn't exploded forty seconds earlier, I would have done it then at the sight of those perfect tits. So what if they were man-made. I'm a man and I wanted to leap onto those boobs. Although there was a wet icky feeling within my trousers from the gusher, Richard was still just as hard as a rock. Easing back into my client's chair, she leaned back in the chair, resting her arm on the chair arm as she held the cigarette high as if she was feeling very mellow herself. Her voice still sent cold chills down my backbone but she sounded more relaxed as if we were two old friends sitting around bull-shitting. "The other photographs are about the same. Greg showing his white ass sticking up in the air. Greg showing his hard erection. Greg wearing pantyhose. Greg wearing a bra. Greg dressed in a donated dress that he bought from the Salvation Army. Close-up of Greg's lower face as he puts lipstick heavily on his lips. He took the photographs over two years ago while he was living with me. I just saw them for the first time when I found them last weekend on an Internet site mixed in with thousand's of photographs of other people similarly attired. You can keep that floppy. I've got several copies of them on my home PC." She was leaning back in the chair but her nice ass was resting on the edge and her legs were spread wide offering a nice cheap thrill for Richard. I couldn't see all the way up her skirt to see if she did have any panties on but I could see enough of her creamy thighs to know that I had to have this woman. "I want you to find Greg for me. I don't know where he's at or what he's doing. But I suspect that he's still heavily into cross-dressing and is probably living with someone that he met through the Internet who liked his photographs. Hell, it wouldn't surprise me to learn that he might be living as a woman now. I would hate to learn that he had that magnificent cock cut off but if that's what he wanted, then more power to him. Will you take my case, Mister Marlowe?" Hell, I was thinking about paying her to let me take this case. With my current caseload, my current financial situation, and a client as beautiful as her, I wasn't about to turn her down. No sir, this was a woman who needed help. And Richard and I would love to help this poor little girl. Shaking my head in an affirmative nod, I was surprised to hear the words come my lips as I upped my own fee because I knew that she could certainly afford me at my new rate. "Three fifty a day plus expenses. No guarantees. If I find him, what are you going to do?" Leaning forward and snuffing out her half-smoked cigarette in my ashtray, her voice sounded deadly calm. "Although he treated me dirty by sneaking off and abandoning me the way that he did, I still love him very much and would give him another chance. I have a lot to talk to Greg about. I need to tell him about the many nights that I waited in our lonely big bed for him to come back home to my aching arms. I need to tell him that I still love him and would consider trying to do what it takes to make our marriage work again. I need to tell him that I still don't understand his very strange needs but that he can do whatever he wants as long as he treats me the way that he used to treat me. I need to tell him that I need a good fucking and that if he doesn't scratch this strong itch burning deep inside my body, that I'm going to find someone else to do it for me. Two years of being celibate has almost turned me into a virgin again." The pounding in my temple was starting again. Richard's strong voice was screaming "take me, take me, take me, take me" over and over. "Anyone that has been missing for two years might be difficult to find. How long do you expect me to look for him?" She opened her purse and removed a check that she laid on the desk. It was signed and the Pay-to field was left blank. But it was made out for twenty thousand dollars. "Mister Marlowe, I expect to spend at least that much and more if necessary. If you find him in a few hours, then the difference is your bonus. If you haven't found him by the time that you've earned that, then I'll consider writing another check." Rising to her feet as if she considered this interview to be finished, she pointed at my computer "On the floppy is a text file with the information that you'll need about Greg. It also has my address and private phone number. When you've found something, you'll know where to find me." I found myself coming around the desk to escort her to the door. I knew that Richard was still creating a tent in my trousers but I didn't care. After the short and very frank discussion with this prime example of horny and very beautiful woman-flesh, I wanted her to know what sort of effect that she had on me. Taking one last glance at her perfect rounded breast outline, I mumbled "I'll be by to give you progress reports." A smile formed on her beautiful lips. A mischievous smile as if she had a joke to share with me. Her husky voice caused me to stare at her beautiful red lips as she uttered one last comment. "Mister Marlowe, it looks like you have to be more careful. You spilled your coffee on your trousers." Glancing down at my erection, I saw that my trousers were indeed wet. But I knew that she was aware that the wetness wasn't caused by coffee but by her effect upon my male libido. This was one sexy woman and I was determined that I was going to spend some time in bed with her once this case was completed. "Uh, yes. I did spill some coffee." Without waiting for me to be a gentleman, she opened my door. Standing in the doorway, she turned back to face me. Her pretty green eyes were gleaming as if she was reading my mind and knowing what I was thinking about doing to her. I was surprised when her hand clicked off the light switch, plunging my office back into relative darkness. Standing halfway in the hallway, she giggled, "Why don't you resume that nap that you were taking when I barged in on you." Then she pulled the door shut leaving me standing in the middle of the floor with a big damp erection in my trouser and me in the dark. Grabbing Richard, I held him tightly wishing that I had an office with a bathroom at that moment. Richard was still demanding relief and there wasn't a close-by place to easily clean-up the mess in my trousers at this moment. She was one sexy babe and I knew that I was going to greatly enjoy this case. Chapter 2 - Digging for information For the next two days, I kept my office door locked. I didn't want anyone wandering into my office for a cup of coffee or something and catching a glimpse of any of the many images that I had to download from the Internet sites. I never knew that there were so many photographs of men's asses or cocks in the world. Being a one-hundred percent all-American red-blooded male, I knew that there were a lot of photographs of boobs and pussy out there on the Internet. But until I went looking at some of the reference points on the text file that my beautiful client left me, I never realized that there were so many people involved in that type of lifestyle. I did discover that a lot of them had pushed the gender barrier so far as to create an almost new gender. Chicks with dicks. She- males. Sluts with nuts. Some of them looked as natural feminine as any woman and Richard would began making mild comments to me until I would look at them below the waist, then Richard would shut up. Two days of prowling the Internet gave me some clues as to my new case. I found Greg's photographs on three more sites other than the two sites that she provided me. I also found four other photographs of him that she didn't have. In one of them, he was lying on a sheet in the corner of some room with his mouth wide open as if he was going to suck a big cock. It wasn't that great of a photograph of his face because of the black wig covering most of his face. But I knew it was he. And looking at the date of the file, I discovered that it was also two years old. There weren't any recent photographs of him. It was almost as if he had dropped out of sight. Needless to say, Richard behaved himself during those two days. Not once did he rear his ugly little head as I prowled through all those Internet sites. If I had known that I was going to have to look at so many photographs of men's asses and cocks, then I would have doubled my fee instead of just adding a hundred dollars to it. I used to say that there were some things that you couldn't pay me to do and now I was doing one of them because of my bank account. It wasn't all "fun and games" for me during those two days. I used some of my sources to do the basic preliminary checks that typically provides most of the leads in this type of business. I checked police records, bank records, telephone company records, cable company records, electrical power company records, County Clerk records and any searchable database to see if Greg Browning had left any trail behind with either his name or social security number. I quickly discovered the old records of the actions done while he lived with Tanya prior to his disappearance but I didn't find anything new. So I expanded my search nationwide which takes longer and also involved spending some fees but I didn't care. I had a twenty-thousand dollar check in my savings account drawing interest, to spend as I saw fit. I expected that I wouldn't earn all of that money so I had it drawing interest while I pulled out only what I needed to cover my basic expenses. I did find several instances of the name Greg or Gregory Browning nationwide but was able to rule out each and every one of them because of their social security numbers. Then I initiated other checks which involved searching through various other account information that was available without getting a court order. I also called my buddy Harrison and thanked him for sending me such a well-heeled and well-built client. I could tell that he was smiling over the phone, knowing how I was probably reacting at having such a lush babe as a client. Harrison told me that it was a routine case so the police department wasn't doing anything more than treating it as a simple missing person case. Since thousands of people disappear every year, the police doesn't usually do anything more than maintain records and do some cursory investigation to determine if it is a missing person or a potential homicide. When Tanya asked Harrison what else could be done to find her cross-dressing hubby, he suggested that she hire an investigator because they had already done everything that they were going to do unless they had evidence that a crime had been committed. So he gave her my card and then sat back to wait for my call. I thanked my buddy again and told him that I owed him a couple of beers for sending me this client but he reminded me of my overdue loan from him. I told him as soon as I had earned the money from this case, that I would buy a case of beer and come pay him his money. Overall it was a busy two days, which I detailed in my Client Report along with the expenses, so that my client would know what she was paying for and where I looked, along with the results of each look. *** While looking for her missing husband, I also found out a lot of incidental information about my pretty client although I didn't go into any detailed searches looking for information about her. After all, I did know where to find her. Besides being beautiful, Tanya was a very rich woman. She lived in a very ritzy neighborhood and belonged to all of the best clubs. She was also very smart because she managed her own stock portfolio and had increased her wealth several times over during the last couple of years according to her income tax records. But she was a woman of mystery. I found some references to where she went to school but when I went through the school yearbook for her graduating year of college, her photograph was blank. Greg was in the same class and his photograph was also blank. They must have been out fucking the day the photographer was at the school. I was looking for photographs of Greg or her and Greg in social settings so that I didn't have to depend upon the lousy photographs obtained from the Internet. But they appeared to have led a quiet, non-descriptive life prior to his disappearance without any photographs made of them. Tanya Browning was currently very active on the social scene but she didn't become active until about two months after her husband's disappearance. I found several recent photographs of her in various social publications where she was attending a party or serving as co-chairman of so- and-so committed or something equally frivolous. There was even one photograph of her on a tennis court, wearing one of those white little tennis dresses as she presented a trophy to the winner of some tournament. Looking at that grainy newspaper photograph of her long legs, Richard came to life again. She always paid her bills on time, she had an outstanding credit rating and she lived in a mansion. Well, considering that I live in a third floor walk-up apartment where my bedroom, kitchen and living room is the same room, anything else is a mansion. After my two solid days of hard work, I decided to pay her a visit to show her the new photographs that I had found of Greg on the web sites. Supposedly to see if there was anything else that she remembered since our one visit and also to see if what I had discovered so far would jog her memory. Also I wanted to see her again as well as to check her out within her environment. So I printed the new photographs and put them in a folder as well as details of my activities so far. Driving out to her neighborhood, I was stopped at the entrance to her ritzy neighborhood by a rent-a-guard at the gate. From the way that he looked at my twelve-year-old rusting car and my Wal-Mart every-day suit, I knew that he was going to turn me away. Pulling out the cop's badge that I secretly held onto after my forced retirement, I used that to gain entrance through the gate. Her home was built on a cliff overlooking the city. It had one of these big circular driveways. Her garage door was open and I saw an expensive Jaguar, a Caddy, a Jeep and a Harley motorcycle parked in the garage. Seeing the Harley created a mental image of her dressed in leather and sitting on that thing with its booming engine vibrating. Needless to say, I had to re-arrange Richard's tight position within my trousers before I climbed out of my old wreck. I knocked on the door. After a minute of no-answer, I knocked again. Still no answer. I tried the door handle and it was locked. Stepping back a couple of feet and looking at the house, I saw that there was a gate in the fence that probably led into the back yard. Rationalizing that the worst thing that could happen would be that I would set off some burglar alarms, I decided to check out the back of her house while I was here. As soon as I opened the gate, I observed a very big and long swimming pool with a tennis court adjacent to the pool. I also saw a very naked Tanya Browning lying on her belly on a cabana chair tanning her beautiful body. Started by unexpectedly walking in on her in an undressed situation, I started to be a gentleman and to ease out of her back yard. But Richard was making me walk slow back through the gate as I memorized every glorious detail of her tanned body. "Mister Marlowe. So nice of you to drop by. Please come join me." Glancing at her face, I saw from her amused eyes that she was looking at me and was aware that I had been caught staring at her totally nude body. I felt like Columbo as I walked toward her. Like a dolt. Like an idiot. However Richard was making me feel like a horny dolt. But seeing as how she was unconcerned that her beautiful tanned ass was totally exposed to me, I marched straight toward her reclining body as if being around a naked woman didn't startle me. "Good morning. I had some items to discuss with you and to give you some other photographs that I had discovered. I came by to give you this progress report." "Pardon me if I don't get up but I have a busy schedule for this afternoon and need to complete my tanning. Would you be a dear and put some lotion on my back while we talk?" I knew that if I had fallen into the nearby swimming pool at that moment that all of the water would have turned to steam because of a very hot piece of flesh between my legs. Richard was so hot that he was almost burning a brand into my belly. "My pleasure." Pouring the thick creamy-white lotion into my palm, I almost shuddered as I had hundreds of dirty thoughts about what that liquid looked like as I spread it on my palms. I kneeled down beside her prone body and gently touched her warm back with my cream covered hands. I hadn't noticed the other day that she's a big girl. Not big as if fat but big as in "not petite". Her wide shoulders were finely muscular as if she spent a lot of time swimming or playing tennis. But not so much muscle so that she looked totally unreal like one of those muscle bound girlie-boys in all the physical fitness magazines. Her tall proportional body reminded me of Xena's well-built Amazon body. No, this was one luscious babe whose tall body was very proportional all over. As I smeared the creamy white liquid onto her skin, I noticed that she didn't have a tan line anywhere. Glancing around at the surrounding hillside, I looked for a spot where I could come back some day with a pair of binoculars and check out the view of her neighborhood. "Um, your hands feel so good. Slap plenty of lotion onto my back because I'm so dry." I can't help it if I've got a dirty mind. I thought of something else that I wanted to slap on her back. I thought of another creamy lotion that I wanted to deposit on her back. I thought of another way to resolve her dry feeling. I thought of something else that would make her feel good also. And all of those thoughts involved Richard. "Um, a little higher, please. My shoulders need special attention." Because I was kneeling beside her prone naked body, I was able to see the very pleasing outline of her mashed boob pressed tightly underneath her body against that chair. Think of a grapefruit mashed into the shape of an air-filled inner-tube and that's what that wonderful breast looked like. If there is such a thing as reincarnation, I want to come back as either a dildo or a cabana chair. I don't know who her surgeon was but if I ever find out that doctor's name, I'm going to send him a Thank You card for this very special visual treat that would help me get through the many lonely nights of my divorce. "I found four other photographs of Greg, which appear to be taken about the same time period. Nothing recent so far." Her head was turned to face me and I couldn't help but see the gleam in her eye as she giggled. "If you found other photographs, that means that you've spent a lot of time looking at thousands of photographs of men's asses." Glancing down at her naked twin tanned cheeks of rounded perfection I mumbled a quick reply. "Part of the job." What I really wanted to say was "may I stick Richard up your ass to help him recover from the personal torture that I've had to endure on this job?" She lifted up slightly and moved her arms so that her face was resting on her wrists so that she placed her arms in a sort of "T" position. I've never won more than ten bucks on a lottery but I thought that I hit the jackpot when she suggested something that I was mentally thinking of different ways to make the same suggestion without offending her. The Mafia boys need to take a lesson from her in how to make offers that can't be turned down. "My shoulders and upper back feel coated with the lotion now. Would you mind coating my sides and lower back?" Picking up that bottle of lotion and squeezing it so that the creamy white lotion shot into my slick palms while I stared at the side of her mashed breast was quite a treat for me. I was beginning to feel drops of sweat popping up on my forehead that I knew wasn't caused by the warm sun baking us. When my hands were all slick with the lotion, I eased my hands down her side, trying not to pause or spend too long applying the lotion to the bulging mammary flesh as my lucky hands coated her sides with lotion. Richard was talking to me and telling me that I should consider changing careers and becoming a professional masseuse. People are actually paid to do what I was doing. "Did you find the same type of photographs of Greg wearing women's underwear?" "Yes. In one, he had on a red lacy bra but again his face was so thoroughly covered by the cheap wig that he's almost unidentifiable. I found some other photographs that I suspect to be him because of the general shape of his body and easily identifiable undergarments but his upper body was out of the photograph so it's impossible to confirm that those photographs are him also. The last traceable record of him appears to be a reservation for an airplane flight to Spain, which was about two weeks after the day that he disappeared from your house. I haven't been able to confirm yet that he was on that flight but I'm still looking." "Ummmmmmm, you're very good!" Her throaty humming approval made me wonder if she was talking about my detective work or my creamy hands coating the sides of her lush body. Keeping my mind on business, I continued reporting my findings that were detailed on the floppy that I brought as part of my report so far. "Conversely going the other way in searching your husband's trail to try to find clues as to where he disappeared, I discovered through searching old credit card billings in the six months before he disappeared that he spent a lot of money in shops that specialize in women's apparel." Turning to look at me, she half-raised the side of her body slightly off of the chair so that the mashed inner-tube looking breast quickly expanded back into a more normal half-grapefruit shape. I saw just a momentary glimpse of dark flesh that I knew had to be the nipple's aureole "That was correct. But most of that money was spent on me. He liked buying expensive designer clothes and matching jewelry for me and seeing me dressed in his new purchases. I know that he bought me at least a couple hundred thousand dollars of new clothes in the six months before he left me. Would you mind putting some lotion on my derriere while your hands are already covered with lotion?" Richard tried to answer for me. IS THE POPE CATHOLIC? IS THE WATER WET? DO I WANT TO RUB MY HANDS OVER HER BEAUTIFUL ASS? Taking one knee-step to the side so that I was centered over her tanned mounds of cellulite-free derriere, I felt the drops of sweat on my forehead increasing so that one lone drop trickled down my nose, hung for a second, then fell onto that perfect ass where it was instantly blended with the light coating of perspiration coating her body. As I poured the creamy white liquid thickly onto my hands again, I stared at her slightly spread legs and was able to visually confirm that anyone eating her pussy would never get hairs in their mouth. Yeah, she had the cutest waxed pussy that I've ever seen. From the corner of my vision, I sensed that her head was turned so that she was looking at me. Glancing back at her and trying to wipe the smile from my face, I tried to act as if it was normal for me to slap thick copious handfuls of creamy lotion on every one of my employer's asses. So talking business to her while Richard was screaming STICK YOUR FINGER DEEP INSIDE HER, I told her about my suspicions. "I think that your husband has changed his name and is going by another name now as well using as a different social security number. The only way that a person disappears so completely is if they are dead or using other identification." Turning her head so that her chin was resting on her crossed palms and she was staring straight ahead, she spread her legs a little more as if she was silently telling me to "put lotion on anything that you can see". Her voice purred as she thought about my assumption. "I also suspected that Greg was going by another name. But that was only after I thought about his cross-dressing and his desire to transform himself into a woman. Once when I threatened to leave him unless he told me everything about his 'other life', he told me that he had a net name of Monica Taborski. Yeah, he told me he had established some e-mail accounts listed in that name. Sorry that I didn't include that in my text file of facts about him but I had blotted that discussion out of my mind until just now. Please put plenty of lotion on me and don't let any sense of false modesty stop you from making sure that I'm heavily coated with lotion. I don't want to get burnt and some parts of my body are more sensitive than others." Richard was screaming that he knew which body parts were the most sensitive. Because of Richard's thoughts filling my brain with his rambling, I vaguely remember her saying the name "Monica Taborski". Richard was screaming so loudly that I couldn't hear anything but the pounding in my temples as I stared at the puckered shaved lips between her legs. How can anything that ugly be so damn pretty? Just looking at her wonderful shaved pussy, I knew that Richard was going to get a heavy workout as soon as I got somewhere private. Taking her words at heart that she wanted lotion everywhere, I tested the waters by gently spreading her ass cheeks with one hand while pushing a thick coating of lotion down her crack. I fought the urge to slip my slick finger down into her tight anal crack to see how far I could push her explicit guidance. Trying to pretend that my mind was on business, I heard my voice crack as if I was a teenage boy going through puberty. "Monica Taborski? I'll also look for that name or variations of that name. I noticed in that report that he has no next of kin except for you because of the marriage. I see that you were married in one of those walk-in chapels in Las Vegas. I would have guessed that you would have been married in a big church wedding." "Ummm, that feels so good. Be a dear and put it on thick there. That part of my body always feels so dry because the toilet paper removes the natural oils needed to prevent skin rash. Yes, it was a walk-in chapel. We both thought that I was pregnant and we wanted to have the license before any baby came along. It was a miscarriage. Neither of us have any families so it was a wedding just for our benefit and the law." Being asked to repeatedly thrust a slick finger up and down a beautiful woman's crack was the best gift that I ever received in my life. Even better than when Dad bought me my first used car when I turned sixteen. Spreading her cheeks so that I could make sure that I was doing it right, I made sure that I rubbed a copious amount of thick liquid the whole length of her beautiful crack. She certainly wasn't going to have to worry about skin rash while I'm in her employ. "Ummmmm, your finger feels so good. Ummmm, you know that feels so erotic that I think that I've just discovered a new turn-on. I think that when I select a new lover, that I'm going to ask him to rub plenty of lotion on my ass as part of our foreplay. Ummmm, I could let you do that all day but I know that you are a busy man. What else have you discovered?" I knew that she was talking about my investigation into her missing husband. But Richard was screaming that he had lots of things to tell her that I had discovered. I was enjoying this as much as she was enjoying it. And when she told me that she wanted her next lover to do this to her, I though that a very intensive throbbing Richard was going to rip through two layers of cloth. Accepting her suggestion that I should let my hands move on to other parts of her body, I reluctantly eased my finger out of her crack and watched it close up like a Venus flytrap. "Well, I've been trying to determine how he's living. Normally when a rich person plans to walk off and start a new life, they transfer money to other accounts so that they can continue to live a decent life. Looking at the history of your bank accounts, I see a lot of expenditures but all of the money transfers appear to be legitimate expenses. How is he living without working?" Giggling as if something just struck her as being funny, she laughed a husky laugh that reminded me of an old high school girlfriend. I had just claimed her virginity and we were still in the back seat of my old car when she laughed a husky laugh as if something was very funny but that she wouldn't share with me as if I didn't understand. Tanya's laugh had that same mysterious sexy quality to it. "Working? A pretty woman like me never has to work hard except to do what it takes to look good for her man. If Greg found himself a rich daddy who liked skinny cross-dressing men, Greg would never have to work either. Don't forget to put some lotion on my taint." For a beautiful woman, she was also very smart. I hadn't considered that the reason that I wasn't finding any traces of Greg was because someone else was supporting him. Men are supposed to support themselves and I hadn't really considered that potential yet. After all, having an in-depth knowledge of cross-dressing men's habits isn't one of my strong points, thank god. Analyzing her words, I suddenly realized that I didn't know what she meant by "taint". "Pardon? 'Taint?' I'm not familiar with that term." "Why Detective Marlowe. I thought that you were a street-wise ex- cop. Taint is the narrow area between my two body cavities. It 'taint' pussy and it 'taint' ass." My hand was shaking as I poured the lotion onto my hand. I knew that I couldn't control my fingertips if I got that close to her shaved pussy. I knew. I knew. I knew. Then I did it. I placed a heavily coated finger on her Taint. She moaned a low throaty growl as if she was a tiger purring for me. I started to say something suggestive such as "my nose makes a good lotion spreader" but then I remembered that my dear old dad once told me that when things are going great to remember to keep my mouth shut. Right now things were the best that I had ever experienced in my raggedy old life. Her lower body was absolutely devoid of hair, which I assumed that meant frequent trips to a salon specializing in that function. I knew that she waxed instead of shaving because there wasn't any stubble and instantly made a mental note to consider that as a second career if I couldn't make a go out of this detective business. And that 'taint' was just as soft as a baby's skin. "Detective Marlowe, what do you plan to do next?" Richard almost caused me to answer FUCK YOU but I shook my head to shake some common sense back into my brain. "I suppose that I need to start concentrating on trying to find people that he might have been communicating with at that time to see if they worked out an arrangement. He had to have someplace to go and something to do. You stated in some of the notes that you gave me that life was good between the two of you and that you hadn't had any disagreements prior to his disappearance. He had to have some reason for leaving on that date and some place to go where he could disappear without a trace." I was rubbing my fingertip coated with lotion against her 'taint'