Rigor MortisChapter 2
- 4 years ago
- 25
- 0
I went back to the office and dreaded coming face to face with Julie after my shameful behavior with Lola. I felt really bad about my weakness in tending to the needs of my cock and placing them before the processes of my brain that told me to stay on the straight and narrow and follow up on my original plan.
In retrospect, I regretted informing her that I was going to put Lola under the glare of an interrogation naked light bulb. I remembered that at the time, she had looked at me with a skeptical look on her face and I thought she was being unfair because my intentions were circumspect and above board because of my suspicions.
When I walked through the door to the office, it only took a quick moment to see her reaction to my lack of energy and the guilt in my eyes when I had the nerve to look her in the eye. My lack of energy was due to the depraved draining of my precious bodily fluids repetitively by the luscious Lola with her sweet sexy ways that made me want to burn the candle at both ends with non-stop action.
I guess it was all too easy for her to read my lack of innocence and I kept my mouth shut not wanting to get into a confrontation with her due to her advanced stage of pregnancy and her warning for me to stay in close contact because she might have to go to the hospital at any moment with not a second to waste.
It was easy for me to make all those promises to her and take her loving ministrations in return payment for my support of her difficult situation. There was nothing I could do and nothing I could possibly say that would excuse my behavior and I only hoped that she would be so concerned with her medical health that she would postpone my upbraiding for a later date when she was safely past the day of birth.
Julie calmly made the coffee and we both sat down and sipped the magic brew like it was gift from the Gods and not recently purchased at the Safeway down the block after grinding the beans into the same bag it was sold in. I always liked it better if it was double ground because the ground beans seemed to melt into the liquid brew like flavor drops on my tongue much different than Lola’s sweet pussy.
I updated the Raymond file to add in my report on Lola’s involvement and the fact that he was already passing along the booty from the evidence locker to Lola and unknown other females with cooperative snatches willing to do almost anything to please a guy with expensive gifts regardless to their suspicions that the stuff was hotter than a Saturday night special with recycled lead slugs.
The Raymond file was finally beginning to look a whole lot better with Lola’s answers to my questions and I noticed that Julie was smiling a little bit now with the knowledge that my visit had at least paid off in gaining valuable intelligence on Raymond’s last days and his attitude about being a dirty cop with no self-respect or sense of doing what was right for his own peace of mind.
The fact was that even though we were related, I had never liked Raymond and I guess I displayed my feelings a little too openly because Lola had told me that my cousin hated my guts and constantly told her I was a prick of the worst sort and not inclined to make allowances for family relations.
One of the details that Lola passed on was the fact that she had even bent over for my Uncle Joe a couple of times and that she thought he had a fine cock for such an old man and that his wife was lucky to have him in the bedroom at night.
That surprised me because I had never thought of my Uncle in a sexual sense and just sort of figured that he was happily married with one daughter of his own and another one adopted as well to help walk his Irish setter. That dog never walked anywhere. It only had one speed and that was like a steak of lightning with his paws barely touching the ground. He could turn on a dime and plunge into the ice cold river with never the least bit of hesitation making him a great bird dog and in great shape to chase all the bitches he could mount in the city park.
I remembered my Uncle thinking it was funny that his dog was raping any bitch he could catch and that he would sometimes laugh at their female owners moaning about how their little pet was being molested by a strange dog. I knew it didn’t seem like proper behavior even though animals didn’t have rules like humans do in modern society and in most cases, the bitches were quite excited by his attentions despite the reaction of their female owners with problems related to the opposite sex of their own.
Of course, animal sex was without the deceptive nature of human sex which involved scheming, downright misrepresentation and downright lies to get into a girl’s pants at any cost. It was hard for me to give credence to an actual presence of consensual requirements for animal lust in animal life unlike the standards of normal society for humankind.
As we slowly filled-in the blanks in the Raymond murder file, Julie and I managed to put the Lola episode behind us and sealed our resolve with a nice bend over the end of the sofa with soft pillows under Julie’s ready to pop at any time belly and I was able to formulate a conclusion that he must have been eliminated by his own asshole buddies because he was far too loose with his lips and his distribution of loot from the evidence locker job and he represented a threat to his closest friends in the dirty cop scheme. It was plenty of motive from my point of view and I was certain we might be able to narrow down the field of dirty cops to pinpoint the exact killer of Raymond with some luck and a possible confession to send some brainless dirty cop to death row.
It was easy to see my succulent secretary was fairly busting to break the news to me about the box-seats at the ball park. She gave a short spiel about how she got the info from a source she called “That darling boy at the team’s front office.” I got the distinct impression that no money changed hands in the procurement of the intelligence but her mood indicated she was running on all eight cylinders in the information gathering operation and probably rewarded him in a more personal...
I met my Uncle Joe over at the cop bar on Eighth Avenue that still used sawdust to keep the dirt down on the floor. The scent of the lunchtime menu overpowered the aroma of the beer and spirits that never left the place if you had a sensitive nose. The thing I liked best about the White Rose was their mid-day collection of hot food for the blue-collar workers in the neighborhood. Of course, most of the clientele washed it all down with liberal helpings of the draft beer that tasted like it...
Raymond stood there shaking the raindrops from his obviously borrowed or stolen woman’s umbrella and I could tell from his shifty eyes he was spinning his story with every word that crossed his lips. In all honesty, I didn’t really mind because I was used to Raymond by now and I hoped we could work together without one of us killing the other because underneath it all our dislike was a mirror image. I caught him ogling my secretary Julie’s ass when she bent over to fill my first cup of the...
I knew I should be working on running down the leads in Raymond’s unfortunate demise despite my Uncle’s reluctance to stir things up. It was like we had stepped on an ant-hill with all the Internal Affairs sleazebags poking their noses into the everyday happenings of operational policing. I had to admit it was well within the realm of probability that Raymond’s death was linked to the investigation work he was doing for me on the Donnie Anderson case. Of course that narrowed down the list...
The sky over Manhattan that Monday morning were grey and overcast with a fog that lingered in the long cold stripes called Avenues all the way from the East River to the mighty Hudson rushing brown and swollen out to the Atlantic Ocean. I figured it was not a good time for the news helicopters to be navigating the high-rises and it brought back my fear of the noisy, smelly things that spelled finis to a number of my compadres in the Marine Corps quick response team of which I was one of the...
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