Journal of an Agent Ch. 25

I rubbed my temples and traced my hand over my jaw, feeling the slight swelling that made my cheek puffy. I had downed four Advil just a half hour earlier and was still waiting on it to kick in. Around 2:00 though, Damon came in and sat down and gave me something else to think about besides my busted mouth and the meaning of the Hollywood business.

"Dean, I have an idea. I think I know how we can find out more info about those guys that tried to kill you last night," Damon said excitedly.

"Oh yeah? How's that?" I asked.

"Well, a few years ago my roommate in college kept getting these weird calls from this guy in the middle of the night, saying some really bizarre things. At first we thought it was funny but then the guy kept doing it, every night, at different times. So we got his phone number through star 69, but every time we tried to call HIM, there was no answer. When the calls kept on coming, my friend finally just got pissed off and hired a private investigator. Within a few hours, the guy had given us his address, name, where he worked and his license plate number. We waited for the guy to get home and I think scared him a little and the calls stopped. And it's all due to the PI," Damon said.

"That's great man, but I don't think that the description I could give would be enough to let him track it down. We should probably just call the police," I said.

"I thought you didn't want them getting involved because it was too high profile?" Damon asked. He had me there, I had forgotten about the buzz it might cause if some cop said something to his kids about it.

"You're right. Hmmm...have you got this investigator's number?" I said.

"Right here," Damon replied, handing me a small business card. It read FRANK MCALLISTER - INVESTIGATOR and gave a phone number and email address, although surprisingly no office location.

"Thanks. I'll give him a call in a bit," I said. Damon headed out of the office: "Don't mention it. Just trying to help,"

I played with the card in my hands for a few minutes, thinking about what he said. This guy might know his stuff, but could he really hunt down the two thugs who ran me off the road based solely on my description of them and their cars? It was worth a shot I suppose - if they knew I was still alive, they might come after me a little bit harder next time and I might as well get the jump on THEM.

I dialed the number, letting it ring six or seven times. I was two rings away from hanging up and telling Damon he gave me the wrong number when a gruff voice, almost identical to the ones you imagine a private detective would have, answered. "What?" he said.

"Is this Frank McAllister?" I said.

"Yea, that's me. What do you want?" he said hoarsely. I could only imagine what this guy looked like.

"I was referred to you by one of your past clients. Well, not your client exactly, more of a friend of,"

"Get to the point. You've got my number, now what do you want?" he interrupted. I resented being interrupted, but I hoped that meant that he wanted to get straight down to business.

"Well, I had an incident last night with two men who tried to kill me and I need your help in tracking them down. The problem is, I have no idea who they were. Can you help?" I asked.

"Maybe. Give me their description and everything that happened," McAllister said. I spent the next ten minutes reciting (for the third time) the whole scenario and what had happened, straining to remember everything I could about the incident. The entire time I was greeted by silence on the other end and when I finished, I thought he had hung up, or at the very least was ignoring me.

"Uh-huh. Is that all?" he finally said. "Anything else you can remember?"

"No, that's it. I just got out of the hospital this morning and," I said, abbreviating my spiel because of his apparent distaste for long-windedness.

"Alright. Let me get your name and number and I should have something for you in a few hours," McAllister said with a heavy sigh. It seemed like it was a strain to him just to hold a conversation with me.

"Well, I'll be at home probably by the time you call, so call me there. 555-0417. And my name is Dean,"

"Ok Dean, I'll give you a call when I learn anything. We can discuss payment at that point," McAllister said, hanging up without so much as a goodbye. I glanced at the phone in bewilderment, wondering if I'd ever get anything out of this.

That night I headed out to Alyson's house, borrowing one of the company cars to get there. Alyson lived alone, in a fairly normal upper middle class neighborhood not too far from a lot of the happening places in LA. Her house was a two-story pueblo design, the exterior a soft mix of pastel oranges and greens. Anyone who happened to drive by would hardly assume it was home to such a rising star as Alyson, but I think that she wanted to keep things that way - to stay normal and "connected" to the roots of the rest of society.

She had left the porch light on for me, as well as a note inside the handle of the door: "Dean, come in. I'm upstairs taking a shower." the note read. Following her advice, I stepped inside. I was immediately overwhelmed by the wafting scent of food being prepared, some sort of baked chicken with a hint of spices to it from the smell.

I made my way to the kitchen and saw that Alyson had set out a plate for each of us and that a pan of the chicken I had smelled was cooling in the middle of the table. Hearing footsteps behind me, I turned around and was amazed to find Alyson standing there.

Wearing just a light purple silk robe that barely covered up to her thighs, Alyson’s red hair hung wetly by her shoulders. She wore no make up, but didn't need it - the heat of the shower was enough to bring out the cute freckles on her face, giving her face a rosy glow. The overhead light of the kitchen hit her copper red hair at just the right angle, giving her the appearance of a fiery lioness, ready to devour her freshly fallen prey.

"Hi Dean! I'm so happy you decide to come and that you read my note," Alyson said, planting a quick kiss on my cheek. Her skin and body smelled soft and clean, the soap of the shower giving off a slight perfume like smell that was almost dizzying.

"I'd never miss a meal with a client Alyson, so you shouldn't have worried about that," I said, taking a seat at the table. She joined me across the way and we began to eat. The chicken was delicious - a tangy herbal lemon flavoring added to the chicken breast to give it just the right amount of moistness. With it came wild rice, mixed and served with freshly sliced onions and peppers. On top of that was a helping of steamed green beans and corn. All of this Alyson made herself and as I remarked to her upon finishing, it was absolutely exquisite.

"I'm glad you liked it. Cooking was a hobby for me as a little girl and, well since this acting thing took off, I don't have as much time to do it. So I enjoy those rare chances I get to prepare food for anyone," Alyson said. "Would you like some champagne?"

I nodded and she brought the bottle over, holding it in her hands, the mouth facing me.

"Would you open this? I always have the hardest time getting these damn things open," Alyson said, gripping the base of the bottle. I twisted in the corkscrew and pulled hard. For a second, I thought the cork wouldn't budge, but then with a loud POP it came out. The force of it startled Alyson and she jumped back instinctively. For just a split second I could see the faintest tip of her nipple poke out through her shirt as her small breasts jiggled with the sudden movement. And then like that it was gone.

I must have been staring because I didn't notice that the champagne was starting to bubble up and out, a small trickle hitting the floor.

"Oops! Here, get your glass," Alyson said with a laugh as she lifted the bottle upright, taking a drink straight from the dark green glass to catch the slight overflow. I held out my glass as well as hers and she poured us both some drinks. We talked for a while, cracking jokes about mutual Hollywood friends and the like, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't get the image of her nipple out of my head. Not wanting to seem over eager, I acted as if nothing had happened.

Within half an hour we had moved out to the living room, where Alyson had kept the lights dim and had some soft jazz playing in the background. Alyson had finished her third glass of champagne and was getting quite tipsy, her words starting to slur a little as she spoke.

"You know, I bet that Sarah Michelle is a slut. I bet she wants it and gets it all the time from Freddie," Alyson said, waving her glass around a little erratically. I had seen this before - stars getting trashed and then bad mouthing friends. Most of the time it was never an issue but more often than not I had diffused many a situation over the phone between two pissed off women.

"Oh, I seriously doubt that. From what I hear, she doesn't have sex that much at all. Freddie apparently isn't...umm, well I think that they are both really busy," I said to her. (If only she knew the truth!)

"Bullshit! I'll believe that when pigs fly!" Alyson said, finishing off her glass. There was an awkward pause in the room, the music becoming more clear now in the still silence.

Trying to get the conversation started again and to try and figure out why I was there to see how "sexy" she was, I said "Well Alyson, I better get going. It's been a long day,"

I stood up, but Alyson jumped to her feet, the sudden movement making her giggle a little.

"No! You can't go! I didn't show you how sexy I am!" Alyson said, her face showing signs of sobering up. My guess at this point now was that whatever she had planned had made her very nervous and she needed some liquid courage to get through it.

"Well, I don't know. I mean, it's pretty late and I have to be in the office in the morning and all," I said, feigning an excuse. The image of her nipple now raced through my head and I couldn't get it out. The air was filled with some kind of electric excitement, like a charge right before a lighting strike when you just KNOW that something is going to happen any second now. That's how things felt now in the room as Alyson swayed a little on her feet in front of me.

"No no no! You STAY! I'll be right back. Trust me, you'll be happy that you stayed," Alyson said, bounding off around the corner and up the stairs to her bedroom. Still keeping up my fake disinterest, I called to her "Ok, I'll be right here. But hurry up!"

I sat back down on the couch and closed my eyes, listening to the music. It was so soothing and relaxing and with the combination of the wine and the gourmet meal, I felt very calm.

I heard some loud thumping coming from upstairs as Alyson came down quickly. She stopped behind the corner and I saw her arm poke out, holding onto a remote. With the push of a button, the lights in the living room dimmed almost completely out, and the music on the CD player changed to a fast thumping rock song.

"Close your eyes Dean!" Alyson called from around the corner. "If you don't close them, I'm not going to do it,"

Obliging now, I closed my eyes and laid my head back on the couch once more. I heard Alyson moving some stuff around in front of me, the heavy dragging of the coffee table being moved out of the way. Still keeping my eyes closed, the music seemed to get louder. I heard a few more brief moments of movement and then Alyson was standing in front of me, a few feet away.

"Ok, ready!" she bubbled excitedly. Opening my eyes, my jaw almost dropped from what I saw. In the middle of the floor was a pole about 8 or 9 feet tall, sticking straight up in the air and coming just an inch or two short of the ceiling. The pole was held up by a smooth, heavy looking base made out of some kind of metal or something. In the dim light of the room, the goldness of the pole glistened and seemed to beckon me to come closer. I wouldn't have had to go far - next to the pole, no less than 2 feet away was a folding chair, sitting directly in front of the pole. And of course, standing next to the pole with one hand on her hip and her back arched a little, her other hand on the pole itself, was Alyson.

She had shed the robe now in favor of something far more erotic - a lace black bra (a push-up bra I could tell, as her breasts seemed to almost double now from the glimpse I had seen), a pair of thigh high black leather boots and one of the skimpiest pairs of panties I had ever seen. The material was see-through, but due to the unfortunate lack of light in the room, I really couldn't see much of anything beyond the faint shape of her sex.

"Well, don't just stand there! Come over here and have a seat!" Alyson said, curling her finger out at me as she motioned for me to come over. She seemed like a completely different person now - indeed quite sexy, but also full of some kind of raw sexuality that indeed did just seem to spill forth from her lithe, milky pale skin.

I walked slowly over to the chair as Alyson held her place - I was now just a few inches from her and I realized she hadn't moved when I came over. The slight brushing against her I had done, the radiating eroticism between us, served all the more to excite her (and me as well).

I sat down in the chair and glanced up at Alyson - the chair was low to the ground, but Alyson's boots had given her about a 3 inch boost in height. She looked down at me, her green eyes a fire with excitement.

"Now you can see how sexy I really can be," she said. With a sudden movement of her hand, she threw my legs apart so that I was sitting with my legs on both sides of the chair - a perfect position for her to move and grind in front of me. Content that I was in place, Alyson turned and walked around to the back side of the pole. It was then that I noticed that she was wearing a thong, one that rode straight up her ass, allowing her toned, firm ass cheeks to be clearly pronounced in front of me.

Hitting a button on the remote that she still grasped, Alyson changed tracks on the music to a more urban, bass heavy beat. It was some kind of jungle/techno mixture thing, with no lyrics but a whole lot of synthesizers and drums. Of course, I only paid attention to this for a second: what happened next was guaranteed to hold my attention.

With one quick half-leap, half-climb, Alyson mounted onto the pole, wrapping her legs around the steel so that they met at the knees on the other side. Clicking her big heels together, she tightened her legs firmly on the pole and pulled the rest of her body towards it, grasping tightly with her thighs. Flinging her head back sexily, Alyson held her body against the pole as she slowly slid down a little. But just as quick as she fell, Alyson had scooted back up, her ass bouncing sexily as she moved and very slightly made her way in a sort of falling rotation around the pole.

Pulling herself up by her arms, Alyson held herself in the air and slowly pulled her legs off of the pole, just enough to stick them out in front of me as she pushed her knees back together and arched and moved her legs with the beat of the music. This maneuver took a lot of work I could tell, seeing Alyson's muscles in her whole body becoming taught and tight as she shifted around and then wrapped her legs back around the pole.

Turning her back to me now, Alyson leaned her head around her shoulder and gave me a quick wink and a gorgeous smile and then moved her head back away. She moved an arm back behind her now, unclasping her bra and very slowly letting the straps fall away from her shoulders. With a quick shimmy, she let the garment fall from her body completely and hit the floor. Alyson, still a little reluctant and nervous, kept to her plan and turned around on the pole, placing her feet back on the ground as she spun. I got my first real look at Alyson's breasts then, and they were indeed just as lovely as the glimpse I had already stolen.

Freckled slightly just like the rest of her ivory skinned body, Alyson's nipples were a surprising dark reddish blush color, far deeper in shade than the hair on her head. She had medium sized breasts, a middle b-cup by my estimates. With nothing to cover the top of her body now and a pair of panties that barely even covered the rest, Alyson's true womanly figure took shape - she was petite and well rounded, with curved hips that accentuated the rest of her body perfectly, her legs smooth and shapely as they descended down into the darkness of the boots. Alyson smiled at me nervously as my eyes roamed up and down her body, but there must have been something on my face that was comforting because she set back into the routine she had planned, the momentary interruption making her forget what she was doing.

Mounting the pole (so to speak) again, she began twirling around it at a quickly increasing pace, just trying to get going fast enough to lift her legs up and manage to scoot up the pole about two feet in the air. Turning to face me from the other side of the pole, Alyson watched me sexily as she slowly slid down it, letting the cool metal rub in between her breasts. Her nipples poked out tautly from her body, the tips pressing against the metal as she slowly slid down it a few inches. The music was going heavily now at a much faster pace and this seemed to encourage Alyson along, make her want to speed up the exquisite, professional quality pole dancing she was doing.

Grasping the pole with one hand, she slowly and seductively slid the thumb on her left hand down to the waist band of her panties. With an agonizingly deliberate pace, the material seemed to trickle down her legs, first past her thighs, then to her knees and finally landing on the floor. Alyson now clutched the pole completely naked, her pussy hidden cleverly by the pole covering it. Spinning around again, Alyson's back now faced me, her legs clutching tightly onto the metal as she flexed in and out her ass cheeks. I could make out the soft shape of her mound between her legs, her inner lips opening and closing as she worked her buttock muscles.

With one final twirl, Alyson spun around the pole and held herself up prostrate on the pole, her entire nude and lithe body now facing me. Supporting her body with just her arms, she unveiled the climax of the show - opening her legs wide now, I got a perfect view of her cunt. She had freshly shaved it, probably right before I arrived and with her legs spread I could see the true beauty of her snatch. She was indeed a natural red hair, her sparse pubic hair a dark crimson red that seemed to blaze like fire in contrast to her body.

"So, do you think I'm sexy now?" Alyson said throatily, her voice deepening as she held herself on the pole, her eyes ablaze with sexual excitement. I could only nod.

"Do you want to fuck me?" she asked, opening and closing her legs to reveal and hide, reveal and hide her moistening sex. I again nodded and stood up a little to unbuckle my pants and slide them down my legs to my ankles. This brought a grin to Alyson's face as she saw my fully erect, 9 inch cock laying directly on my stomach, the tension and excitement of what was to come making it twitch a little.

Sliding down the pole towards me, I sat in the chair again and watched as Alyson moved from supporting herself on the pole to placing her thighs on top of my own, her body slowly coming to rest on my lap. She had her legs spread still and as she dismounted the pole completely, I held my dick out for her open lips to ease onto.

The fluidity of it was amazing and swift - Alyson's lips opened slowly as first the head of my prick, then inch by inch more and more became engulfed by her moist womanhood. Wrapping her arms around my neck, my cock buried itself completely in her now, her pubic bone coming to rest on my crotch.