Poirot's Chronicles - Hercule Ch. 08byvelvetpie©
***** A great many people have undertaken to portray Agatha Christie's Belgian detective, Hercule Poirot, but in my opinion, none has done it as well as David Suchet, star of ITW productions of Poirot. It is his image that I use as my visual and those of Hugh Fraser (Captain Hastings), Pauline Moran (Miss Lemon) and Philip Jackson (Chief Inspector Japp). ENJOY! *****
She was sleeping.
Poirot stood over her, noticing that she was naked beneath the sheer sheet. Her hair stretched behind her as if caught in the wind and tear stains marked her creamy brown cheeks. His heart lurched in his chest as he realized that he was the cause of those streaks. She had only wanted to bring him pleasure, to let him know how much she cared for him, how much she loved him. She had given him the precious gift of her selfless attention and he had rejected her as if she was a whore. There had been nothing whorish in her actions. He knew that with certainty now.
She felt wet warmth on her cheek and the gentle touch of fingertips drew her from her troubled sleep. She was startled and confused to find Poirot leaning over her, cleansing the dried tracks away with a washcloth.
"Please forgive me yet again, dear Lina. It seems that I am not as smart as I think I am." He set the cloth aside, using another square of cloth to dry her soft skin. "Lina," He caught her eyes, his own watering as the realization of his love and his life lay silently before him. He was even more amazed that she was still here and that spoke volumes to him. "I am an old dog, Lina. I have been alone and lived alone for so long that I am very set in my ways." He paused, overwhelmed, his throat aching with tears. "I wish to ask for your forgiveness once again in the hopes that you will take pity on me and ... " The lump in his throat grew so large that it was becoming almost impossible to squeeze the words past it. "And ... "
Joceline didn't speak. Her hands softly enveloped his, tugging the cloth away and pressing her lips to his palm. She felt the fall of his tears and reached up, pulling his trembling mouth down to hers and pressing her lips against his. His arms encircled her, bringing her body tightly to his and she sighed in happiness. Then, once again, she loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, sliding it down his shoulders and almost smiling at the shiver that her fingertips elicited from his flesh.
When she sat up, he couldn't help himself. His shaking hands smoothed the skin of her exposed shoulders, then moved down to cup her breasts, rubbing the thick, dark nipples between his fingers. She gasped, violently shivering. "I know you like a challenge, Hercule." Her dark sultry voice wormed into his very soul, firing his passion. "Beg for forgiveness ... " He started to speak when she continued. "Without words."
Poirot left the world behind. He pushed her back into the pillows, his mouth covering hers, then moving down to her dark chocolate nipples and sucking until they were glistening nubbins. She gasped at his assault, allowing him complete control as he moved from breast to breast, then nuzzled her freshly-shaven, smooth armpits before heading south, across her stomach. He heard the hungry rumble inside and nipped the sensitive flesh, making her groan loudly. His prick thickened as she arched beneath him, the seductive scent of fresh sweat and her weeping sex assailing his nostrils. While his lips continued to circle around her belly button, one thick-fingered hand cupped her shaven mound, applying pressure at the fat crest. "Oh, God!" She breathed loudly.
His fingers spread her fat, puffy lips apart, dividing and conquering her sodden pussy and diving deeply within. Joceline moaned again, trembling against him as he slid two fingers inside her. He stroked slowly, letting her feel every inch of his warm flesh. "I must confess to you ... " He raised his fingers to his mouth and sucked her cream from them, watching her watching him. "Hercule Poirot has never ... " He placed soft kisses on the tops of her thighs, moving upwards. "Ever ... " His hands hooked underneath her knees and lifted them upwards, spreading them slightly. "Failed a challenge."
Poirot leaned forward, inhaling her womanly perfume and his cock twitched. He was the cause of this, he thought, remembering Hastings' words. He was the reason that she was wet and willing. He lowered his mouth to her slit, his tongue snaking out to gently play along her pearly inner lips before pressing inward. Her slow exhalation told him what he needed to know and he licked again, widening his tongue to swab both lips and her shimmering hole, spearing in to dip into the cream. She shuddered in his grasp.
"Oh!" No one had ever licked her there before and her senses were awash with absolute bliss. Her pussy walls rippled, releasing waves of cream that he eagerly licked up. Again and again, his tongue dove into her slick love canal and again and again, she gasped in pleasure, fighting the release she knew was coming in an effort to make it last. But she was failing miserably. Despite Poirot's inexperience, he was a quick learner and his tongue was driving her to the edge with the same dogged diligence that he used to solve crimes.
Poirot felt her body trembling and he pulled back a moment to press the fleshly lips apart again, giving her a small smile when her clit arose, throbbing and pink with blood. He slid two fingers into her soaked quim just as his lips enclosed the small nub and she screamed, cumming harder than she ever had before. Her muscles squeezed his fingers, the rich, thick honey oozing out and coating her ass crack as well as his mustache. Her body quivered for long moments afterward and he gently stroked again, slowly bringing her back down.
"Oh, Hercule." Another series of shudders racked her body as a smaller orgasm ripped through her, brought on by the agility of his thick fingers. "I've never ... I've never ... "
His mouth captured hers again, delving deeply into her warmth and melding it with his own. "I'm not finished yet."
"Please, Hercule. I want to feel you inside me." Joceline met his eyes and pulled his mouth back down, licking some of her cream from his upper lip.
"Maybe it is I who should make you beg ... " Poirot smiled at the thought but he knew that it wouldn't happen. One of her hands was stroking his hard length through the fabric while the other worked on the buttons of his pants. He broke their kiss with a gasp when her hand found his hot flesh, the soft fingertips wrapping around his girth and caressing him. "Oh, Lina." A growl followed the words as her lips covered the head of his cock, her tongue sliding into the wide slit.
She wasted no time in taking his entire length into her mouth, letting her tongue travel all over his steely rod while her hands pushed the pants and underwear off. He seemed embarrassed about the size of his belly but she made him feel at ease, nipping and licking a trail up the sides after running her tongue around his belly button. Finally, her mouth met his again and she moaned at the feeling of their naked bodies together, the head of his penis butting against the top of her slit.
Poirot gently turned her over, his lips raining kisses on her neck and cheeks. She felt so good, he thought, his prick gliding up and down in her wet slit. Her body tensed and her breath hissed out as he repeated the action until she was so wet that his cock was covered. "Lina ... " He felt her change position, felt her hips cant slightly and then, he was sliding inside her. He had to close his eyes because just the sight of her lovely face in rapture was enough to make him lose it. Hastings' words came back to him. The look in her eyes when she's about to cum ...
Joceline whimpered, biting her bottom lip. He was inside her, deep inside her and she was cumming just from his entrance. If this was just the beginning, she was scared. His soft lips crossed the bridge of her nose, his mustache tickling her ear. "Look at me, Lina." Her eyes flicked open, meeting his and almost immediately filled with tears at the love reflected in his. He began to move, leaving her with an empty feeling until he filled her again, making her skin tingle.
He felt as if he'd died and gone to heaven. She was so soft and wet and her body responded so wonderfully to him. Because she's with you, you twit! He kept her eyes locked to his as he slid in and out of her soaking hole, enticing her to move with him. Her arms looped around his neck, pulling his mouth down as her hips flexed upward, drawing him deeper inside. Poirot groaned and grasped her legs, drawing them from around his waist to on top of his shoulders, grunting as he started to drill her harder. She responded by grabbing the headboard and whimpering at each thrust, momentarily closing her eyes and moaning as three separate orgasms shook her.
"Lina." She heard his whisper and pulled him down into a long kiss, sucking his tongue into her mouth as another glorious orgasm ripped through her, taking him, too. His body shook as he emptied his balls into her, his cock pumping into her milky slit. Exhausted and sated, he collapsed against her, his hot breath tickling her neck and she pulled her legs down.
"Hercule?" He raised his head slowly, meeting her eyes. "That was wonderful."
"For me also." He shivered as his soft cock slipped from her cum-filled box and he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close. He wasn't sure what to say. He felt so many different things that he felt compelled to give a voice to but ... he didn't want to frighten her away.
"You beg very well."
Poirot laughed, nuzzling her cheek. "Are you sure I'm completely forgiven?"
Joceline's breath hitched at the dark notes in his voice and the sensual feel of his lips on her neck. "Mmmm. Maybe not entirely." She touched his cheek, softly drawing her fingertips against his heated skin. "Want to take a shower and find out?"
* * * * *
The phone was ringing and Poirot wanted to ignore it. He was so contented just now that he didn't want any part of the world to intrude. He had cum four times in the spanse of a few hours and his body was still tingling from the last time. He would never have imagined that sex could be this good. Now he understood why people did certain things for sex. He would definitely kill for Joceline and he would most definitely give his life for her.
"Are you going to answer that?"
Poirot tightened his arms around her, drawing her trembling body closer and dropping a kiss on her forehead. "I don't want to."
"It might be important."
"They can leave a message with the front desk."
Joceline smiled, running her fingers through his soft chest hair and stroking his belly. "This is not like you, Hercule. You're usually very meticulous."
"Did you not find me meticulous a few minutes ago?"
She gave him a gentle squeeze. "I'm not talking about that and you know it."
"Yes, I do know it, dear Lina." He heaved a huge sigh, giving her another kiss. "And I know I must answer it." Releasing her, he leaned over and picked up the receiver. "Hello? ... Ah, good afternoon, Chief Inspector Japp. ... You are here? What is one of Scotland Yard's most precious agents doing in Paris? ... Looking for me? Well, Japp, I am most flattered! ... Yes, if you will give me about fifteen minutes, I should be happy to join you and Hastings for lunch. ... Oui, au revoir."
"No, what? I haven't even asked you a question yet."
Joceline snuggled closer, secretly grinning as she felt his cum leaking from her cunt. "I don't want to get up. I don't want to leave this bed. I want to make love until I fall asleep."
"Well, you're not far from sleep now."
"I can't help it. You've worn me out."
"I have to meet the chief inspector and Hastings downstairs for lunch. Why don't you stay here and take a nap?"
"And you'll wake me up later?"
"And I'll wake you up later."
"And you'll make love to me again?"
"Oh, yes." Poirot breathed, bending to kiss her soundly. "I will make love to you until you're hungry for dinner."
Joceline laughed, sighing as he pulled himself out of her embrace. His hands lightly traveled over her skin before he tucked her in, pausing to rub his fingertip along the soft line of her cheek down to her jaw. "I will miss you, Hercule."
A pulse of adrenalin burst in his chest, hearing her drowsy words with a heart overflowing with love. Those tender words brought visions to mind; visions of arriving home to her open arms, of watching her perform with the knowledge that she belonged to him, of his name on her lips as they made love, as she came, covering him with her pussy cream. Sharing breakfasts, lunches and dinners. Walking in the park. Perhaps he would buy a cottage in the country and spend some sort of retirement with her, basking in the warmth of her love. Suddenly, perfection and solving crimes meant nothing compared to the five words that she'd just uttered.
"I promise not to be gone too long."
"Don't worry about me." She half-turned, then pulled him down, rubbing her tongue lazily against his in a warm kiss. "As long as you want me, I will always be waiting for you." Her eyelids drooped as her exhaustion caught up with her. "Always."
Poirot arose and quickly showered, dressing in just eleven minutes and managing to look sartorially splendid. Before he left, he once again gazed at the beautiful black woman who was sleeping peacefully in his bed, amazed at the fact that she cared for him. If he was given a chance, any chance, to have a life filled with love, he would do whatever he had to to ensure that chance.
"I shall always return, mon amour." Poirot whispered and doffing his hat, he quietly left the room.
* * * * *
Hastings and Japp were smiling conspiratorially when Poirot arrived at their table. Both men sipped their beverages quietly, listening as the detective ordered a drink and expectantly turned to them.
"You're right." The chief inspector said at length, grabbing a cucumber sandwich and chewing thoughtfully. "He does look like a bloke that's had some."
Poirot's friend blushed fiercely. "I didn't tell him anything, Poirot. He guessed."
"He is not that good of a guesser." Poirot hissed angrily, unfolding his napkin and placing it on his lap. "I will thank you not to speak of my business, Hastings."
Hastings and Japp broke into laughter that soon erased the serious look from the Belgian's face. Suddenly, they were schoolboys, ruthlessly jabbing their mate about his new girl. Poirot had never experienced that before and found himself red-faced and giddy, lifting his glass with a huge grin.
"I take it that you've solved your earlier problem."
"Problem? What problem?"
Before Hastings could answer the inquisitive Chief Inspector, Poirot spoke up. "So how can I help you, Chief Inspector Japp?"
"I heard about the break-in at Miss Tarrant's apartment. Ghastly!" Poirot and Hastings shook their heads in response. "Why would someone want to do that to her?"
"That, I do not know, Chief Inspector. I do know that it was extremely upsetting for her to see such a thing."
"How is she now?"
"Very well." Poirot stated. "She is a very strong woman."
"No doubt about that." Hastings said with a smile.
"Well, as long as she's in your care, I know that I won't have to worry." Japp took a swig of his beer, pausing to wipe the foam from his mustache. "There's another problem. Sister Lilia has disappeared."
"Really!" Poirot momentarily ignored his friend's outburst. "Two murders and a disappearance."
"This is why I came to find you, Poirot, and why I need your help." Japp took another swallow. "My superiors are angry that I haven't solved these murders and they're threatening to take my job if I don't do something about it. The only reason they paid for this trip is because of what happened to Miss Tarrant."
"Poirot, it would be beneficial for the chief inspector to see the scene of the crime, don't you think?"
"Absolutement." Poirot finished his drink and whipped the napkin from his lap. "Shall we?"
"Hey! What about lunch?"
The great detective gave Japp a generous smile. "I am filled to the brim, mes amis. I have no need of sustenance just now. Why don't we visit Joceline's apartment?" Poirot checked his watch, a secret smile forming on his lips. "I have a dinner appointment that I cannot be late to."
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