All The Pretty Girls Ch. 01

Welcome readers. This is another story featuring Penelope Bishop who we first met in my story Cop Town Girl, who nearly came to grief in Sleeping Beauties and became involved in a tragic love triangle in A Dish Best Served Cold. This five-part thriller stands on its own but if you have the time I recommend that you read A Dish Best Served Cold to put this story in context. If you don't have the time, fine. Now strap in, hold onto your seat and take out your Kleenex and standby for the ride of your life.

Michele Nylons

September 2021

Chapter One -- April

The killer looked down at the girl lying face-down motionless on the bed. Her pantyhose had been pulled down her thighs, her pretty pink satin panties rolled up in the gusset. A puddle of semen pooled in her sphincter. In death her anus had dilated. At least she hadn't shit herself because she was freshly douched.

The killer turned the girl's face side-on so he could see how pretty she was, even with her smudged lipstick. Her makeup was heavy, emphasising her big blue eyes. She had had red pinpoints of petechiae in the whites caused by strangulation.

The killer studied her sweet innocent face then followed her slim torso dressed in the black body-hugging sheer seamless blouse. He could see the wings and straps of her black lace brassiere through the fabric. Her black cotton-lycra blend skater skirt had been removed during foreplay, before they made it onto the bed.

He studied her round white ass again and his semi-tumescent penis became fully hard.

He nearly lost his erection when he noticed the tip of the girl's penis poking out from under her thigh.

The killer had slapped her hand away from it when she had started to masturbate while he was fucking her doggy style on the bed.

"You don't like to see it do you? Are you scared that it's bigger than yours?" the girl had gibed.

It was the last joke she would ever tell because that was when the man had lost control and snatched the pantyhose he had hidden under the pillow and wrapped them around the girl's neck. Her struggling as he strangled her had intensified his pleasure. He held onto the pantyhose like they were reins and pulled back on them as hard as he could, his dick still buried in her ass. He had come so hard and fast that he had nearly passed out. He liked to think that he had come right at the moment of the girl's death.

He rolled the girl's nylons up over her buttocks and smoothed them out and adjusted her panties so that nothing untoward was showing, careful not touch her genitalia which he found repulsive. Now she was just a pretty girl lying face-down on the bed showing off her ass and legs. She still had her stiletto heels on.

The man jerked his cock, once, twice, three times, and ejaculated over her ass and thighs. He drained his cock and watched his cooling semen soak into her nylons and panties.

The killer didn't care about leaving his semen. He knew that he wasn't a secretor and more importantly he knew that his DNA would not be found in any database.

"Too bad you had that mouth on you... you were so pretty. But I was always going to do this to you anyway," the man grunted as he pulled up his pants and finished dressing.

"You fucking whore! You fucking tranny whore!" the man growled.

He wanted to shout out the insult but the walls of the motel room were thin and you never knew who was listening.

The killer carefully checked that he hadn't left anything behind other than his bodily fluids and his fingerprints, neither of which could identify him, and then he checked the surrounds through a chink in the cheap curtains to ascertain that the coast was clear before he left the cheap motel room.

*****

Steve Edwards had driven to Ride em' Cowgirl as soon as he had finished work. Steve had managed the nightclub for about six months before he realised that he missed being a police officer more than he had ever thought he would. His fiancée Felicity Benson owned the club and was the MC at most performances when she wasn't away touring as the famous drag queen Felicity Goodnite.

Mitch Freeman, the previous manager of the club, had no hard feelings when he was offered his old job back. He knew that secretly Felicity was glad that Steve had quit the job because even though cops spent a lot of time in bars, Steve really didn't have the business acumen to manage one.

Steve and Felicity's relationship had actually strengthened when he quit working at the club. They lived together and loved each other but working side by side most days had strained the relationship, especially when they both began to realise that Steve was lousy at his job. But when Steve went back to policing, Felicity's heavy work schedule and frequent absences and Steve's irregular working hours as a member of Balwyn PD's Special Task Force caused them to value every precious second that they spent together.

When Steve and Felicity had come out and publicly declared their relationship there was considerable doubt, scorn and ridicule on both sides of the fence. The LGBT community was openly hostile to Felicity for being in a relationship with a cop and the old guard in law enforcement was incredulous that a hardened street-cop like Steve had taken up with a transgender woman.

But neither of them cared and eventually the fuss died down and people accepted them for who they were as a couple. The other queens who worked at Ride em' Cowgirl had slowly and begrudgingly come to like Steve and his easy-going style. It helped that he was quite a dish: tall and rangy with a stylish shaggy haircut and chiselled features; he looked like a forty-year-old Kevin Bacon. Some of the girls were quite sad when Steve quit managing the place and went back to his job in law enforcement.

"The usual?" Jill Graham asked, pouring him a shot of JD and then slipping her hand into the ice tub and pulling out a Lone Star.

Jill the bar manager and Steve had history. She had hated Steve when he was a homicide detective working a series of murders that focussed his attention on Ride em' Cowgirl and Steve readily admitted that he had behaved like an asshole. The two had begrudgingly become friends over time but they still liked to snipe at each other.

"Issued any parking tickets lately?" Jill put the drinks on the bar in front of Steve.

"You still watering down the well drinks and short-changing the drunks?" Steve gave her a friendly grin.

"You'd know Steve, you used to be my boss until Felicity fired you," Jill grinned back at him.

"God, she's beautiful," Steve sighed as he turned and faced the stage to see Felicity Goodnite working the crowd before she introduced the next queen.

Felicity was wearing a sequined blue evening gown, split to the waist on one side to show off her long shapely legs, and cut low to expose her décolletage. The gown was sprinkled with Swarovski crystals which sparkled under the stage lights which they never really did when caught on television cameras. Those who got their drag fix from TV shows like Drag Race but never went to performances never really got to experience the splendour and opulence that the girls exuded when they were performing live.

With her red lace-front up-do and heavy stage makeup Felicity looked absolutely stunning.

"She sure is Steve. I'm fucked if I know what she sees in a beat-up old cop like you?" Jill chuckled.

Steve turned and trained his piercing blue eyes on Jill and she gave him a look.

"But I suppose there is something to be said for the tall handsome shaggy-haired craggy-faced hard-bodied type... if that's your thing," Jill conceded.

They traded banter like this all the time but Jill never let on that she had a secret crush on Steve who took his drinks and moved to a table at the back of the club. Felicity hadn't notice Steve enter the club and he was able to enjoy watching the woman he loved perform on stage for the next hour without her becoming self-conscious because she knew he was watching.

Just as the show as about to wind up Steve made his way back to Felicity's office where he poured her a gin and tonic at the small wet bar she kept there. When she came into the office Steve offered Felicity the drink and when she reached for it he pulled her into his arms and kissed her passionately.

"Well this is a nice surprise," Felicity grinned at him.

In her heels they stood eye to eye but her body was slight where his has muscled and heavy. Up close her secrets were revealed. She was wearing stage makeup: thick, ombré block eyebrows, heavily contoured cheeks, blinding highlighter, and fluttering false eyelashes, what drag queens call a 'beat' face, designed to look beautiful from a distance under stage lights.

Felicity didn't wear thigh, hip or buttock pads like some of the queens but she did wear several pairs of pantyhose. Tonight she was wearing sheer flesh-toned pantyhose over dance tights and was tightly tucked. Her dress was split so high that her crotch was exposed when she walked. All deliberate of course and part of the show but Steve found it highly arousing.

When Steve started to maul her Felicity gently pushed her away.

"Don't Steve, you know I don't like to fuck in drag and I'm not in the mood," Felicity pouted.

"One of my girls was a no-show tonight and I had to fill in for her. A new girl who calls herself April Showers. The little bitch begged me for a gig and when she finally gets an opening in my show she doesn't turn up. Ungrateful little cunt!" Felicity hunted in her desk for cigarettes.

Felicity's desk was untidy. Paperwork requiring her attention was overflowing from the in-tray, flyers for other drag shows were scattered here and there along with applications from drag queens requesting auditions. Makeup, brushes, hairspray, tissues and cold cream that should really be on her dressing table lay in disarray beside a small makeup mirror.

Many famous drag queens came from Texas and the scene was cutthroat. Getting a start was difficult with so many young queens trying to break into the profession. Ride em' Cowgirl was the only first class venue in Balwyn and getting a start there and coming under the patronage of an established performer like Felicity was a stepping stone to what could be lucrative career. Drag mothers often took their daughters with them when they worked bigger venues or did interstate shows.

Young queens fought hard to get gigs in the more prestigious establishments and it was very rare that they didn't show up for a performance, unlike the established queens who were notoriously late.

As for fucking in drag, Felicity didn't mind wearing makeup, lingerie, stockings and heels when she had sex. She knew that Steve liked her dressed that way and she also enjoyed the fantasy of having sex whilst dressed provocatively but whilst drag queens often looked sexy, the aesthetic did not really lend itself to actually having sex.

Felicity's disdain for fucking in drag and her foul mood did not stop Steve who pressed his lips against Felicity's painted mouth and searched for the tag on her skirt. The evening gown was actually a tear-away reveal. Onstage, halfway through her number, Felicity would pull on the tag causing the skirt to fall away from the bodice revealing a tight sequinned body suit which displayed her trim body and long elegant legs.

Felicity could feel Steve's hard appendage pressing into her body and his kisses and attention to her were beginning to have the desired effect. Even though Steve couldn't feel them through layers of lycra and rhinestones, her nipples were hard and her penis was beginning to distend uncomfortably under her tucking tape.

Steve stroked Felicity's thighs which he knew drove her crazy, his firm fingers massaged her tender flesh through the double layer of nylon and spandex and Felicity gasped into his mouth.

"You always get your fucking way don't you," she grasped his penis through his pants and squeezed it.

Steve fumbled at the crotch of her bodysuit until he found the Velcro seam and tore it open. Felicity moaned when Steve stroked her through the layers of silky satiny fabric. Her cock was nearly fully erect and extremely uncomfortable tucked along her perineum.

Steve kissed her deeply, driving his tongue into her mouth, stroking harder between her legs.

"Oh fuck this!" Felicity pushed him away and clawed her hands into the waistband of her tights and pantyhose and pulled them down so she could get her hand between her thighs to tear away the tucking tape.

Her penis sprang free and Steve reached for it, stroking it to full tumescence whilst Felicity fumbled with his belt and flies until she was able to pull his pants down to his knees. She took him in hand and they kissed as they slowly stroked each other's hard cocks.

"You've changed your mind," Steve grinned into her mouth.

"Shut up and fuck me," Felicity squeezed his cock harder.

Any hopes Steve had of extended foreplay or fellatio were dashed when Felicity pushed him away and spun around and bent over desk offering herself to him.

Her milky-white buttocks looked inviting. The tights gathered under her buttocks and the bodysuit rucked up the small of her back gave her sluttish countenance, like a beautiful elegant lady offering herself to a ruffian to be quickly defiled.

"Jesus Felicity," Steve growled.

She never ceased to amaze and beguile him.

Felicity reached behind her impatiently searching for his dick.

"Use this," she snatched up the jar of Ponds Cold Cream that she used to remove her makeup.

Steve smoothed a dollop of the goop onto his shaft and allowed Felicity to guide his throbbing manhood to her anus. When she nestled his glans into her puckered bud he took her hips in his hands and pushed himself slowly into her.

Felicity sighed and wriggled her buttocks appreciatively, maybe a good fucking would take her mind off the shitty day she had had. She encouraged Steve to fuck her harder, pushing back against him as his big cock stretched her anus, the head pressing on her prostate caused her to dribble precum which Steve used to lubricate her penis as he reached around began to stroke her.

They sometimes spent the day in bed titillating and fondling each other for hours before they actually got down to making love but they also didn't mind a quick and dirty fuck when the mood struck.

Felicity's anus was tight and clasped his swollen cock as he thrust it in and out of her, pressing his thighs against hers so he could feel the silkiness of her pantyhose on his flesh. He was close and he knew that Felicity was too, reaching around her body stroking her penis, feeling the heat and meatiness of it as it throbbed in his hand.

"Now!" Felicity screamed as she pushed back against him and ground her buttocks into Steve's groin.

Steve filled her anus with his steaming load as Felicity's cock ejaculated hot semen into his hand. Her whole body shuddered and he rode her to extremis, driving his cock as deep inside her as could, squeezing her cock, milking it of her creamy spend as she writhed on the desk, sobbing with lust and passion.

As their orgasms began to subside Steve's cock began to deflate while he kissed and nuzzled her neck. Felicity lay bent over the desk her breathing laboured. She reached out and took a handful of tissues from the jewelled dispenser on her desk and caught a strand of semen dribbling from the eye of her cock before it dropped to the floor.

Steve's cock slipped out of her anus and she frantically dabbed at the fluids that were dribbling from her sphincter before they could stain her dress and tights. She wiped between her legs and the tops of her thighs. She hadn't douched before the show and she didn't want to look at the mess in the crumpled Kleenexes. Another reason she didn't like to fuck in drag.

Steve took a step back and helped Felicity stand up. She turned around and smiled at him and when he reached for her to kiss her she slapped the used Kleenexes into his hand and began to haul up her tights.

"Be a dear and put those in the trash," she grinned at him and reached for her drink.

She took a big swallow as she bemusedly watched Steve hold the Kleenex between his forefingers and thumb as he took the tissues over to the bin.

"You're the one who couldn't wait for me to get out drag and clean up before we fucked so you get to clean up the mess," she grinned and reached for her cigarettes.

"I'm finishing this smoke, getting out of drag and taking long hot shower, and then you're taking me for a steak. I haven't eaten all day," Felicity studied the burning ember at the tip of her cigarette.

She had an ensuite bathroom annexed to her office. A luxury she had installed when she bought the club. Felicity didn't mind socialising with the other girls in the show but she was over the histrionics that occurred in the dressing room. Drag queens were notorious for playing pranks on each and throwing shade when they kikied in the crowded dressing room.

"There isn't going to be much open this late," Steve called through the ensuite door over the noise of the shower.

"That's just your excuse to take me to the Longhorn," Felicity called back.

The Longhorn was Balwyn's cop bar. It had a twenty-four hour liquor licence and was the favourite hangout for cops after their shifts. Single cops drank beer and chased women who were attracted to them and married cops hid there from their wives. It wasn't exclusively a cop bar and it attracted an eclectic crowd. Sometimes cops did take their wives and girlfriends there but it was an unwritten law that what happened at The Longhorn, stayed at The Longhorn.

Felicity came out of the bathroom dressed down in blue jeans, a white silk blouse and lighter makeup. Her tousled blonde hair was wet from the shower.

"Your roots are starting to show," Steve teased her.

"And your grey is showing," Felicity countered.

"Men only become more distinguished as we age whereas women... well," Steve drawled.

"Fuck you cowboy! I can spend half an hour putting on makeup and look half my age. I have fans from all over the world begging for a sniff of my panties," Felicity countered and dropped her cigarettes into her handbag.

"Fans from all over the world eh? You selling them your panties? You got a side hustle going on?" Steve continued to tease her.

"Yeah hon and I charge double if I jizz in them," Felicity threw the balled up tucking panties that she had recently worn on stage at him.

Steve chased her around the desk a little but gave up as she continued to elude him. She was fit and sprite, working out every day she had a dancer's stamina.

"Come on then; let's go get that steak," Steve said, huffing to catch his breath.

"You need to work out more cowboy," Felicity jested as she snuggled up to him and kissed his cheek.

They walked out of the club with Steve's arm around her, holding her close like young lovers. Jill looked up from the register she was cashing out and watched them leave, a little envious of what they had with each other.

The Longhorn was still going strong at 1am. Police officers assigned to patrol duties worked five eight hour shifts with two days off, or four ten hour shifts with three days off. Officers were assigned to a watch by seniority. The shifts had changed at midnight and the off-going shift was hungry and thirsty. A sprinkling of detectives mingled with the beat cops and Steve nodded to a few of them.

Steve Randal, his old partner, scowled and turned away from him. The 'Two Steve's' as they were called had worked together during the hunt for the 'Lipstick Killer' when they had been seconded to Penelope Bishop's Special Task Force.

The Lipstick Killer was finally identified as Melissa Doyle who had hunted down and murdered three former ex-members of the Eta Lambda Pi fraternity who had raped her while she was in college. Steve Edwards had achieved notoriety when he found the evidence that tied Melissa Doyle to the murders. Her suicide was concluded to be an act of remorse after the killings.