Death is a Beautiful Blonde Pt. 04

"Fuck me, Mr. Barkley," she cried. "Fuck me!"

My dick was a steel ramrod, hard as ever. I got up off my knees and spread her legs wide open. The fact that she was still wearing the black heels had me so turned on. I grabbed and readied my dick. Her pussy was swollen, throbbing, and hungry for cock. My hardened girth spread her pussy lips open and I pushed myself deep inside her. She was fucking incredible. Her pussy was warm, tight and moist, a perfect haven for my fuck stick. I buried my dick in deeper with each thrust.

She looked up at me with those adorable eyes of hers as I fucked her. I wiped the sweat from my brow without missing a beat. Her enormous tits flopped around, hypnotizing me as I banged her senseless on the sofa. She was clutching onto my arms, squeezing them tight, holding on for the ride I was giving her. "You're so strong, Mr. Barkley! You're so strong." I gave her a smile. A little encouragement was always appreciated.

I hoisted both her ankles up and placed them over my head, against my shoulders. Her opening was completely exposed and open, allowing unobstructed, easy access for my fuck pole. I was nearly dizzy, my head spinning. Her tight little pussy was gripping my penis, stroking it, milking it. She was playing with my nipples, pinching them lightly. Every nerve in my body was alive and ready to explode. I had reached my limit.

"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum!" I cried. I charged back and forth into her pussy, harder, faster and deeper than ever.

"Mr. Barkley," she whimpered. "Don't cum in me, please. Don't cum in me."

"Ok, baby, I won't," I lied. I knew I couldn't comply. I was too weak; I was under her spell, my dick entranced by her pussy, there was no way I could pull out.

"Mr. Barkley..." she whimpered.

I looked into her eyes. She was the most precious thing I'd ever seen. I dropped her legs down from my shoulders, and she wrapped them around me. I couldn't stop. Her tight insides were milking me with fury.

She placed her hands gently on my chest, squeezing my pecs. I stared at her pink balloons, bouncing around as if in a frenzy. "Don't cum in me..."

But it was too late. My balls were unloading into her snatch, pumping her full of sperm. "Oh fuck! I'm coming, baby, I'm coming!" I cried out. I grabbed her tits, holding on tightly. With my hog lodged deep inside her pussy, the dick milk was gushing out of me.

"Yes! Yes, Mr. Barkley!" she called out, clutching me. She was coming too.

I thrust deeper inside her, my dick firing round after round, fertilizing her with seed. She squeezed my chest muscles as I thrust forward, dominating her into submission.

I was a sweating mass of warm, pink flesh hunched over her; she had worked me into a sexual frenzy like I'd never known. My thrusting slowed as my dick emptied the last remaining ounces of baby batter deep inside her womb. She wrapped her arms around me tightly, pulling me close; we kissed, eagerly exploring each other's mouth with our tongues. When our kiss ended, her pussy released it's tight, firm grip around my dick and I let it baste inside her for a few moments. I looked into her eyes. She was beautiful, glowing with a warm light that drew me near, and I never wanted to leave her.

"Did you cum in me, Mr. Barkley?" she asked, her soft voice sweet and innocent.

I sighed. "I did, baby," I replied. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. I was too weak; I couldn't pull out."

She nodded. "Ok, it's all right."

She was adorable. I wanted to kiss her again, but as she looked into my eyes, I could see everything clearly, I could feel her, and I knew my mistake. I knew it right then and there in that exact moment. I'd knocked her up. I could see it in her eyes as they bore through me. I'd knocked her up real good. Shit. I knew I'd have to ditch her and get the hell out of there.

I pulled my dick from her pussy and let her go. I grabbed my clothes and began to dress. My dick was still hard and wet from her snatch, and I struggled to get it back into my pants. My heart was still thumping; I was craving more but I knew I'd gone too far this time.

"Mr. Barkley," she whimpered. Poor girl. "Mr. Barkley, what are you doing?"

I was silent.

"Do you not like me?" Greta asked, hurt.

I lit a cigarette. "No, baby," I replied. "I like you. I like you a lot."

"Then where are you going?" she asked, lying naked and ravaged on the sofa, gently caressing her perfect tits.

I let out a long sigh. "I don't know, sweetheart. I don't know. But something tells me I need to get out of here. There ain't much use for a guy like me around so I'm gonna split while I still can."

"Will I ever see you again, Mr. Barkley?"

I grabbed my hat from the desk and gave her a long look. "I don't think so baby. Believe me, it's better this way." I touched the brim of my hat and gave her a wink. "See ya, sweetheart."

I turned to head out of the library when suddenly, I heard a racket coming from the foyer. The library door burst open and there was Mimi. Behind her, six uniformed policemen followed.

"There he is, officers; the man who killed my father!" she cried. "Be careful, he has a gun!"

The cigarette fell from my lips and I raised my hands as I stared straight ahead at the six policeman aiming their pistols at me.

"Hold it right there, Barkley!" I knew the voice; it took me right back to the past. I sighed as he walked forward; the chief of police, Kramer Briggs. "Looks like the jig is up, Barkley."

"Briggs, what's going on here?" I said. "What do you mean by all this?"

Mimi approached me, a fanatic look in her eyes. "You killed my father! It was you, Bam Barkley! And now you're going to pay for what you've done!"

"You're out of your mind, Mimi," I snapped. "Briggs, what's she saying?"

"You heard her," Briggs replied. He never liked me. "Boys, search Mr. Barkley. Let's see what he's hiding."

I swallowed hard as I felt the gun in my jacket pocket. The gun Mimi had given me, the gun she insisted I carry, the gun, I was fairly certain now, that had killed her old man.

"Hey, what's the meaning of all this? What's the big idea?" One of the officers reached into my pockets and pulled out the gun.

"You were right, Chief; take a look at this!" The officer held up the gun. "Same caliber gun used on Mr. Hathaway."

"Mimi, you gave me that gun!" I said. "You had it! You had it at the beach house, you insisted I carry it!"

Mimi shook her head. "I don't know what he's talking about!"

"Ok, Barkley; it's all over," Briggs said. "Why don't you just come along with us."

Two of the officers grabbed my hands and pulled them behind my back. They cuffed me good and tight and pushed me forward. "Come along, Barkley."

I tried to resist but the officers had me. "Hey watch it, bud," the officer said, grabbing me around my arm as I struggled.

"I'm telling you, she's crazy!" I cried. "You got it all wrong!"

They dragged me out of the library and out of the house. The smug smile on Briggs' face as he watched the boys haul me off made me want to kick in his teeth.

They pulled me out of the house and through the courtyard to where they had parked their car. "Come along, Barkley; the show's over."

I was finished. There was no use in struggling anymore. Mimi had fixed me up real good this time. I took the bait and walked right in to her trap. She pulled it off nicely, too. Killed her old man and pinned it all on the first sucker she could find. I wasn't going anywhere, the officers cuffed me and had me in their midst. The next stop, the last stop, for me would be the gas chamber.

Suddenly, headlights appeared through the darkness coming up the driveway of Helmsley Mansion. "Hey, who's this coming up the driveway?" one of the officers asked.

"Beats me," the other replied.

They stopped as the car made it's way up to the house. There was something familiar about the car. I could barely make it out at first, but as it came closer and into the light coming from Helmsley Mansion, I realized it was the black car that had been following me. Briggs and Mimi had just come out of the house and stared as the car pulled up. Everyone waited and watched as a man in a dark overcoat climbed out of the car.

"Hold it right there, boys," the man said to the officers clutching me.

"And what is the meaning of this?" Briggs bellowed. "Who are you?"

The man walked over to Briggs and Mimi. "Maxwell Lightner, private investigator," he replied. "And Chief Briggs, you've got the wrong man."

Briggs made a face. "What are you talking about, what do you know about Mr. Barkley?"

Lightner took out a cigarette from his coat pocket. "I know that Mr. Barkley, here, had absolutely nothing to do with the death of Mr. Reginald Hathaway."

A wave of relief rushed over me. Mimi began to back away. "No! No, it's not true," she exclaimed, shaking her head. "Mr. Barkley is the murderer; he killed my father!"

"Calm down there, lady," Lightner said, lighting his cigarette. "Mr. Barkley, here, is no murderer. And neither are you."

Mimi gaped at the man. Briggs was becoming unhinged. "I tell you, sir, what is the meaning of all this?! If you know something, you'd better start talking!"

"Look," Lightner began. "I've been following both Mrs. Helmsley and Mr. Barkley for the past 2 days, and I know neither of them killed old Mr. Hathaway. The truth is, Mr. Hathaway committed suicide."

Shocked, Mimi held a mouth to her hand. "What?!"

"You see, Mr. Hathaway recently found himself in a good amount of trouble with the wrong sort of people," he continued. "Gambling debts that were sure to ruin him. When it became obvious that Hathaway wouldn't be able to pay, a man was sent to the house to...check in on the matter."

"The intruder the other night?" Mimi asked.

"Bingo," he answered. "Word got out that your old man was hiding the money in the house, but when the intruder saw Hathaway wasn't alone that night he chickened out and fled. That's when Mr. Hathaway came to see me. He hired me to track down the intruder and keep an eye out on Mrs. Helmsley here."

"And did you find this intruder?" Briggs asked, genuinely intrigued.

"Oh yeah, I found him," Lightner replied. "I found him at the bottom of a cliff. When he returned to his boss without the money, things didn't go too well for him."

"So it wasn't someone sent by my husband." Mimi said, relieved. "But what about my father?"

"I've come to the conclusion, Mrs. Helmsley," he replied. "That your father felt it was best to off himself, thereby erasing the debts he owed and, additionally, he knew that in the event of his death, you, as his daughter, would receive a hefty life insurance payout. It also helped that he already had a nice stash of bills hiding in the house, but he knew he needed to get it out of Helmsley Mansion right away, and so..."

"He asked me to collect it and hide it at the beach house," Mimi finished thoughtfully. "Of course. He asked me to take it right away, wouldn't allow me to ask any questions. He just kept rattling on about his will, how everything was in order, the life insurance policy. I was furious with him, I had no idea what he was so upset about. So I left, with the money, hid it at the beach house, and when I returned, he was dead."

"That's right," Lightner replied. "While you were out your old man killed himself. I know this because the police report confirms Hathaway's time of death. And I was able to confirm that Mrs. Helmsley, here, was seen at a little coffee shop at that exact time by a —" he paused and cleared his throat "— very accommodating young waitress. The report also cites Hathaway had powder burns on his face, he was left handed, the angle of the bullet in the left temple showed that the wound was self-inflicted. A clear suicide, if you ask me."

I looked over at Briggs. He was embarrassed.

Lightner elaborated. "Mrs. Helmsley was out of the house and on her way to hide the cash on her father's orders exactly when Mr. Hathaway died. He was certain his death would be classified as a suicide. He never intended for Mrs. Helmsley to be suspected."

"Oh, dad..." Mimi weeped.

Briggs grumbled, clearly annoyed. "Well, what about Barkley, here?"

"Barkley," Lightner went on, "was Mrs. Helmsley's poorly conceived plan. She thought she'd be fingered as her father's murderer, and, I'm concluding, concocted a scheme to find a chump to take the fall."

Mimi sniffed. "It's true. He's right."

I breathed a long, loud sigh. "Hey, fellas," I said to the officers bruising my arms. "You heard the lady, you mind taking your hands off me?" Reluctantly, they let me go.

Lightner took a puff from his cigarette. "Later that night I followed her down to Derby Boulevard."

"It was you?" Mimi realized. "I thought you were someone sent by my husband. I thought it must have been you who broke into our house."

"I saw you run away from me," Lightner went on. "I watched her jump into Barkley's car. I knew something was up right away. And that's when I started tailing Barkley. I suspected Mimi's plan, and tried to keep tabs on the situation, but Barkley kept eluding me. I had a suspicion, however, that I'd find him here tonight. And it looks like I arrived just in time."

I was glaring at Mimi, furious with her. She was crying, her head down. "I suppose, I will be the one you take down to the station tonight, officer?"

Briggs sighed. "I'm afraid so, Mrs. Helmsley." He walked over to Lightner and held out his hand. "I suppose I owe you an apology, inspector. Thank you for clearing up this whole mess."

"Don't mention it," Lightner replied.

The officers removed my cuffs and latched them onto Mimi. As they walked her to the police car, Mimi hesitated as they approached me. I glared at her. "Well, baby, you gave me a nice ride. A very nice ride."

She looked at me, pained but nevertheless beautiful. "I'm so sorry, Bam. I'm so terribly sorry. I loved you. Can you ever forgive me?"

I gave her a once-over: the legs, the curve of her ass, her gorgeous tits, and that incredible, shining blonde hair. I smirked, shaking my head. What a dame. "Baby," I said. "If you ever see me, maybe walking down the street, or driving up the boulevard, and something compels you to stop me, or jump in my car — don't. Just keep walking."

Mimi's face fell and the officers escorted her away and helped her into the car.

I looked up at the night sky, the moon casting a blue glow over the courtyard as the gothic mansion towered up above. It had been a crazy couple of days, but I was looking forward to getting back to my cubbyhole of an apartment.

"Hey, Chief," a young man's voice called from the front door of the house. I looked over; one of Brigg's boys, having just come out of the house, was trying to get his attention. I squinted and saw that his fly was down, his hair disheveled and his shirt tail was partly untucked. Standing next to him was Greta. Her dress was wrinkled and she had missed the thick streak of the boy's jizz that clung to her long, blonde hair. "I found this girl inside. She says she may be able to give us some information."

I laughed to myself and walked to my car. "Have fun, buddy. She's your problem now."

***

A week later I was on the phone with my buddy Joe, an upcoming big shot down in Hollywood. "Is that so? She's working out well for you?" I asked.

"Buddy, you weren't kidding," he replied. "This girl sucks dick like an angel." I heard him put his hand over the receiver, "That's right, baby, just like that, suck on the tip. Yeah..." He was back, "Bam, you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here," I chuckled. "Glad to hear she's working out for you."

"OH SHIT — uh, yeah, she's incredible," Joe replied. "And you say she was stuck hiding out in some little coffee shop? Christ, well, thank you for sending her to me — OH FUCK! Hey Bam, buddy, I gotta go! Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cu—"

I smiled, hung up the phone, and reclined in my desk chair. I stared out my office window and thought about the last week. After Mimi was charged and put away, Briggs apologized for the mix-up and hoped there were no hard feelings. Said he'd been holding a grudge for too long and then re-instated my badge, gave me everything back. So there I was, back in my office, at my desk, looking over the dirty, rotten city that I hated. Detective Bam Barkley, back in action.

"Mr. Barkley," the little brunette on her knees before me squeaked. "Am I doing ok?"

"You're doing great, sweetheart," I replied. I leaned back and placed my hands behind my head as she sucked my dick.

"What about me, Mr. Barkley?" the cute little red-head chimed in, sweetly tonguing my balls.

"You too, baby," I winked at her and she smiled with her cute little freckles. I couldn't wait to paint over them, covering her little face with a splash of warm scum.

"Mr. Barkley, these two have been having all the fun!" said the dark-haired doll rubbing my shoulders. "It's my turn to taste it."

I laughed. "Girls, girls, all three of you can enjoy." I looked at the brunette, "Here, you suck on it," I pointed to the red-haired girl, "you can lick my balls," I instructed the dark-haired girl, "and baby, you can climb up on this desk here and let me eat that sweet little pussy of yours."

The girls giggled and each of them did as they were told. My eyes nearly popped out of my head when the two on my cock began to play with my balls as they made out with one another, my dick entangled in their wet, sloppy kiss.

"Mr. Barkley, your penis is so big!" the little brunette whispered to me.

"Shhhh—" I hushed her quietly, placing a hand on the back of her head. "No talking, baby. Just suck." Obediently she opened up, I pushed her head down, and I put her mouth back on my dick where it belonged.

The End.