Dick Steel; Private Eye

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A dame walks into my office and bam I'm in a heap of trouble.
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Lost Boy
Lost Boy
5,748 Followers

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*****

The Case of the Insatiable Fiancé:

Chicago: 1924

I looked out at the city on that muggy August night. My window afforded me an unrestricted view of one of the seediest neighborhoods the city had to offer. Even though it was late, half past ten, there was still a lot of activity down below. Speaking of activity down below my lovely young secretary, Iris Moorhead was working overtime as she forced her lips further and further down the length of my trouser snake. She was the kind of girl who had an oral fixation that bordered on the obsessive; in a word she loved to suck cock. Her eyes were closed as she focused her undivided attention to the task at hand. While she licked and stroked me with one hand the other was buried deep in her beaver. I could hear the soft wet sounds of her fingering herself over the blowjob she was giving me. If she ever decided to leave me I wouldn't hesitate in writing her a letter of recommendation to any of the pimps seeking her employment. Even as that thought crossed my mind I felt my loss of control become complete.

"Gonna cum," I grunted in warning and as she always did this just fired her up to the next level. She used both hands now to jack me off and wrapped those tender lips of hers around the head to capture my load. "Aw fuck darling here it comes!" I said even as the first splash of sperm hit the back of her throat. I watched as her throat muscles worked and she swallowed every last drop. I could tell by her ruddy complexion that she had come right along with me, the taste of my love juice does that to her.

"Gosh Mr. S that was the best one this week," she said in her nasally voice. "Do you need me to stay and take some 'dick-tation'?"

"I don't know babe, that one kind of took the wind out of my sails if you know what I mean," I said even as she rose up and flashed me that wet pussy of hers.

"Well, how about I do some filing and check back with ya in half an hour," she purred. "I wouldn't want you to miss out since I'm all fired up and all."

"You are always thinking about me," I said as she dropped her skirt and headed for the outer office.

The door had barely opened when she was cursing like a god damn sailor. I got up as is and turned to face her. I could see the files, my files, scattered all over the floor. What kind of fucking low life sneaks into a guy's place of business and ransacks it while he's getting a little head? That's just plain mean. Then Iris was bending over to collect the fallen files when I got my second wind. Was it the sight of her naked ass under that short skirt of hers? Maybe it was the glistening trail of her love juices down her inner thigh that did it for me? I didn't care. I walked up behind her lined up my dick and sunk it deep into her in one fell swoop. Iris dropped the files and grabbed ahold of her desk to keep from being steam rolled to the floor. She was cursing now but this time for a good reason. She had my cock buried deep inside of her and I was pounding her pussy for all I was worth. I bet her caterwauling was going to wake the neighbors or have them calling the cops, again. Iris was bucking like a fucking bronco just as the door to the office opened and a dame walks in. We both look up as the lady raises an eyebrow before sitting in one of the chairs.

"I hope I didn't come at a bad time," she said in a low sensual voice.

"No, just give me a minute," I said as I hammered the shit out of Iris and rode out her explosive orgasm which the lady had walked in on. "Almost there... almost..." The rest was unintelligible as I sprayed Iris' insides with a huge load. I stood there balls deep in my secretary as I looked over at the snooty bitch. She was dressed nice, new shoes, and her hair looked like it cost more to upkeep than my car. She was a real stunner with her coal black locks and bright blue eyes. The rack she was hiding beneath her dress was nothing short of breath taking. I bet her tits would feel great wrapped around my dick and hitting me in the face as she rode me. Reluctantly I pulled out of Iris and let her clean my cock with her lips and tongue before tucking it back in. The dame never batted an eyelash as she watched the entire proceedings. She may be dressed like she came from money but her behavior screamed otherwise.

"So what can I do for you," I said once I was decent.

"I want to hire you and apologize," she said her eyes still twinkling with unguarded lust.

"Apologize for what," I asked as Iris moved to her desk and took out a notepad.

"I mentioned to a few friends of mine that I would be coming by to hire you," she said. "I fear one of them is the culprit who did all of this." She made a sweeping gesture with one hand.

"What exactly do you want me to do for you miss..."

"Moorcock, Danielle Moorcock," she said smiling. "I am engaged to be married and I am unsure if my fiancé is being faithful to me."

"So you want me to follow him around and make sure he's keeping his dick in his pants," I said and she actually smiled.

"Yes, I have a list of some of my female friends he might be interested in," she said opening her expensive leather bag up. She handed the list to Iris who whistled when she read some of the names. "You must be discreet Mr. Steel I don't want any reputations being tarnished unfairly."

"And if he is running around on you," I asked and she smiled wickedly.

"I will deal with that myself," she said as she rose to leave. "Feel free to come by the house when you have information, either or both of you. We have a swimming pool."

She left without another word. Iris and I laughed at the entire situation and then I looked at the file folders scattered all over the floor. If she was responsible and this was one of her friend's actions I began to wonder what I had gotten myself into. I told Iris to clean herself up before she picked up the mess. My apartment was attached to one side of the office. It wasn't long before I heard the sound of the shower running. I was torn between joining her and starting this case. I needed the money more than I needed another pleasant encounter with dear sweet Iris so I left her a note and headed over to Harry's. I ran a comb through my hair, grabbed a few bucks and headed for the elevator.

Even though it was after ten at night it was still hot as all hell. I walked the three blocks down to the tavern, said hi to the whores along the way and did a mental check list on the names this Moorcock lady had left us. There were two that I recognized right off the bat. They were socialites and known to run in some questionable crowds and this lead to some scathing articles in the local papers. Like most speakeasies in Chicago it had a legitimate business up front, in this case a resale shop, but in the basement was the real money maker Harry's. Now Harry's wasn't your typical gin joint. First of all it was owned by one Detective Harry Everhard one of Chicago's finest. Second, everyone knew that Harry was on the take by the local mob and it was that income that had allowed him to set up the bar in the first place. So the atmosphere of the place was interesting and never failed to please. So I walked around back and knocked on the steel reinforced door. The tiny slit set at eye level opened and I could tell by the bright blue eyes that Chuck was working the door tonight.

"Password," he said in his serious tone.

"Hey Chuck," I replied.

"I said... what's the password," he said a little annoyed.

"What day is it," I asked.

"Wendsday," he replied.

"Henry handover," I said after a moment of contemplation.

I heard the bolt slide and the heavy wooden door opened. There was just enough room to slip passed the doorman to the flight of stairs that led to the basement and the speakeasy it contained. But the brilliance of the set up is that Harry not only purchased one business but three. He also owned each building on either side of the pub. He hired an engineer to scope out all three basements and when he got the go ahead Harry took out key pieces of the basement walls and expanded into the other two areas. While it would look small from the outside the place was huge down below. There were even two escape tunnels that led to the sewers in the back. An access tunnel led to a garage half way down the block. There patrons could slip away unseen in case of a raid.

I stepped past Chuck and took the stairs down into the bar proper. It had grown over the last year. Harry had bought out the two neighboring businesses so he could use their basements for the bar. He talked to one of his contacts in the mob and got ahold of an engineer to plan the expansion. They opened up the two walls and remodeled the spaces. Part of the northern basement was used for office space while the majority was used for gambling tables. Half of the southern basement was used for an orchestra pit and dance floor. The rest became private booths for high paying customers. I made my way through the press of bodies heading directly for the main bar set in the center of the middle room. The square space served as both a bar and washing station for the dirty glasses and there was the object of my desire. Sure there were serving girls who took great care of the customers but I wanted to see the one and only Tits McGee. She was a stunning redhead with a rack any hunter would want to mount. She was wearing a white cotton blouse that was half unbuttoned and tied under those glorious udders of hers. She was also sporting a short skirt that made me wonder if she had bothered to put on any panties beneath. She saw me coming and welcomed me in with a smile and a wink. By the time I got to the bar she had already poured me a cold one.

"You are a lifesaver darling," I said as I sat down.

"I get that a lot," she said in her sensual tenor. "Fair warning she's working tonight."

"Crap," I cursed even as my little sister appeared behind me.

"Love you too big brother," she said as she handed over her tray of dirty glasses to Tits.

"Don't you two start anything tonight I am in a good mood," Tits said sliding the glasses into soapy water to be washed. Just then the live band Harry had hired took to the stage. As the band struck up a lively jazz number my sister retrieved her tray and did her circuit taking drink orders.

"She really is a good kid," McGee said in my ear. "She just had a rough patch in there."

"She was a common street whore," I said my teeth clenching in anger.

"Trust me Dick, there was never anything common about her," Tits said with another dazzling smile.

I just nodded and kept my mouth shut after that. It was true; there was nothing common about my sister and her sexual skills. I should know I helped her master her craft in a manner of speaking. It was years ago but when she came to me as a hormonal teenager and she flashed me her tits asking if they were normal things went a route I never would have dreamed of. The 'relationship' lasted nearly a year and her eagerness and natural flair for sex was intoxicating. I still wake up with wood when I dream about the time I spent with her. I know it was wrong but god damn she was just so damn cute and naïve and determined. She wanted to know what sex was all about and she figured I was the guy to show her. I did, god forgive me but I took her under my wing and into my bed. I guess that's the part that hurts the most the guilt and worst of it all I would do it again if she offered. Of all of the women I have been with she ranks right there at the top. I sipped my beer and listened to the band to take my mind off of her. While my mind drifted away into the music my mind went back to the case and I wondered what the connection was between this dame's friends and her fiancé. Was he really stupid enough to be sleeping with them? I mean Moorcock Industry is one of the top three employers in Chicago. Her old man was worth millions and she being the only child would inherit. A tap on the shoulder brought me back to reality. I turned to see Harry standing behind me.

"Hey old man," I said as I shook his hand.

"I'm not that old," he replied grinning. "Buy you a drink?" That was his code for we need to talk in private.

"Sure," I said and followed him back to his office. He poured two shots of whiskey and pointed to a high back leather chair. I sat down, took my drink in hand and patiently waited. That was chief among my sleuthing skills, the ability to wait out my opponents. I sipped my drink and watched Harry stir and fidget until at last he broke down and began talking. Harry was in his late forties with the first signs of gray hair showing up in his dark brown hair. He was clean shaven with a jovial round face and piercing blue eyes. Speaking of his eyes, there was the deep set with lines of worry around them from the harsh reality he faced every day.

"I may have a case for you," he said his eyes locked on the smoldering cigar in the heavy glass ashtray. A thin tendril of smoke formed a column in the air between us and I didn't like where this might lead.

"I'm on one right now, but it shouldn't take long," I said trying to keep a distance and yet not refuse him out of hand.

"Glad to hear you're working," he said smiling at last. Though we were only a few years apart in age poor Harry looked at least a decade older. The hard life he had lived was catching up to him and fast.

"So what kind of case are we talking about," I asked and watched him stiffen instantly. "Never mind, we can talk about it some other time."

"NO," he said a little too loud and way too quickly, something was bothering him and bad. "I mean it's okay to discuss some of the details. But before I do I need your word that you will keep this absolutely private. I mean you need to keep Iris out of the loop, if you can. I know how much you rely upon her."

"I'll do what I can," I said and he smiled again. Though Iris was a cock hungry fiend she had other talents, some that few people were aware of. It was because of these talents that I hadn't kicked her to the curb years ago. She had a gift that made her extremely valuable in my line of work. Iris had a photographic memory. She could recall with perfect accuracy anything she had ever read, heard or experienced. That was why I sent her to the public library at least twice a week. She could skim through books, newspapers and the like with a speed that was astounding and retain every last drop of data. Her major weakness, if you want to call it that, was her stunted development. She was a teenager trapped in a woman's body. She had problems dealing with the real world and the harsh reality it contained. I shielded her from it and in return she was my living breathing library as well as a fierce lover who wanted only to make me happy.

"So what's the job," I asked after a brief silence.

"It involves white slavery," he said softly. "There are some very powerful people involved so this needs to be handled with kid gloves, alright?"

"Sure Harry," I said blown away by those two words, white slavery. "How can I help?"

"For now, nothing, but in a couple of weeks events may transpire that you will be called into investigate. Until then keep your mouth shut and enjoy my hospitality tonight."

"Thanks Harry, I won't let you down," I said as I rose to my feet.

I left a man in fear of his life. Something about this slavery ring had him emotionally wrecked. But I meant what I said about not letting him down. I returned to the crowd, the blaring brass instruments and the fog of cigar and cigarette smoke. I returned to my seat, which Tits had kept for me and ordered a shot of tequila. She raised an eyebrow but never hesitated to pull out the bottle and set it and a shot glass in front of me. Harry's was probably the only place in the state that you could get legitimate south of the border Tequila. He had that kind of influence and since he was paying, I was drinking. I shared the bottle with Tits and even poured my little sister a few shots. This put us on better emotional standing, at least for tonight. I did some people watching as I sipped my drink and saw that not only were there cops in the place tonight but a few politicians as well. They were doing deals for the well-dressed businessmen that were out and about on a Wednesday night. Sure it made me sick to see our elected officials being bought off but this was Chicago and that is how business is done.

It was god awful late when I staggered home. I had over indulged in Harry's generous offer of free booze. But somehow I managed to reach home in one piece and reach my apartment unsullied. I opened the door and teetered inside as I clumsily closed the door. I stripped off my jacket and hung it up. I loosened my tie as I headed for the bathroom. I stripped down to my boxers and tossed my clothes into the hamper. Then I turned on the water and splashed some water on my face. It helped a little considering I was just this side of blind drunk. I turned off the water and using the wall for support made my way to my bed. The windows were open and the fan was on. I guess I had Iris to thank for that. Speaking of Iris, there was a familiar curvy figure asleep under the sheet. Off came the boxers as I crawled into bed behind her. I was pretty sure I was too drunk to fuck but I never got tired of feeling her body pressed against mine. I closed my eyes even as she began to grind her ass against me. How I managed to get wood is something of a miracle but I did. I think I murmured something about her doing all the work and she was all too eager to oblige. She rolled me onto my back and dove under the covers to suck me off. Between her talented hands and gifted tongue I was painfully hard in no time at all. Then she was lowering her soaked little slit onto my cock in no time at all. We both let out groans as I slid inside of her. I opened my eyes for a minute only to see she was facing with her back to me. Then she was moving and I was in seventh heaven. She set a slow agonizing pace as she made love to me. It was obvious that she wanted to make the most of this. Maybe the fierce pounding she got earlier had been too fast? Sure she had climaxed and all but maybe she wanted to make this one last. I didn't mind at all. I loved the feel of her warm wet cunt wrapped around me. I could hear her soft moans that blended into erotic purrs.

"So damn big," she whispered so soft I almost didn't hear it. "No one stretches my pussy like you do."

I laughed off the comment since as far as I knew I was the only one actually fucking her. I knew of her little excursions to men's rest rooms and sucking off the random stranger. She had no impulse control when it came to giving head. Her pussy belonged to me and I knew it. I was too drunk to let the fact take hold. Then she was moving her body faster now and I could feel her shaking as she got close to her climax. I managed to find the strength to thrust up into her and drive my dick as deep into her as I could.

"Bastard," she hissed as she drove her hips down to meet me now. Then she was grinding hard against me as she came. I let her sit there completely impaled as she recovered. It didn't take her long. Soon she was making slow deliberate circles with her hips and moaning as the new wave of pleasure filled her to her core. "Fuck me..." I think I blacked out for a second. Then I saw her naked pussy wiggling at me.

How I managed to get into a sitting position is anyone's guess. But seeing her there on all fours with her ass so high in the air I just couldn't resist. I moved behind her slowly as she pressed her face into the sheet. I saw her fingers dig into the material as I eased back into her. I leaned forward, cupped her tits and began making love to her. Just as she had done I moved as slow as I was able. This provoked a nearly violent response from her.

Lost Boy
Lost Boy
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