Her Private Eye

Andy looked at me oddly. "May, I'm bi, not gay."

"What?" I cried.

"Jesus!" Cassidy shouted. "Just decide who's going to get ass-fucked already!"

My head was swimming. Andy had just repainted our entire relationship for the last year. I'd assumed the whole time he was gay, because of his relationship with Rob. I'd felt so comfortable flirting with him, pulling naughty pranks, and teasing him all because I thought there was no chance he would ever be attracted to me. All those little kisses on the forehead, his arm around my shoulders...

Was Andy, in fact, in love with me?

I felt the tire iron tap me on my shoulder. I turned, and the purple gleaming strap-on was pointed at my face. Cassidy licked her lips, towering over us. "Who's it going to be, girl detective detective? Whose ass is mine?"

Suddenly the door burst open. On the other side, silhouetted in the twilight gloom, was a solitary figure in a trench coat and felt cap

"How about you decide, Cassidy?" Marshal Saint-Claud asked in his coldest, emotionless voice. "Right or left knee? Because I'm an excellent shot, and you're not even wearing a skirt." The shadow pulled a revolver from his pocket.

Cassidy charged at Marshal, the tire iron raised overhead. He dodged to the side and kicked Cassidy in the ass as she passed by. The woman went sprawling onto the lawn, tire iron bouncing wildly into the street. Cassidy sprung up onto her knees, her ass in the air and the strap-on dildo erect beneath her. She looked like she was ready to charge Marshal again.

Marshal levelled his gun. In a voice as cold and clear as ice, he said one word. "Run."

Cassidy bear-crawled to the edge of the lawn, then stood and sprinted down the street in her heels. The purple strap-on waggled back and forth, and we could see her bare legs in the lacy black panties for a long time.

After watching the fleeing woman for a while, Marshal stepped inside. He turned on the light and saw the mess in our living room.

"You need a more discreet car," he said, "for our next job."

I still sat with my arms around Andy, our hearts beating a similar terrified rhythm. Marshal motioned towards the broken furniture and spilled coins. "I'll grab a broom. This isn't the first fight I've cleaned up after."

For the next hour or so we straightened up the apartment. Marshal and I talked. It turns out Marsh had been threatened by many a victim and client. But his steel resolve usually won out in the contest of wills. Andy was mostly silent during this conversation, but I noticed his eyes on me throughout the evening.

At one point, Andy and I had dragged a few garbage bags out behind the house to the bins. Away from Marshal, we stared at each other silently. Andy walked towards me, and I wrapped my arms around his muscular chest.

"Oh, May..." he sighed into my hair.

I kissed the hollow at the base of his neck. "That was scary as fuck."

Andy looked down at me. He took a deep breath. "It really made me think about who is important in my life. Who would comfort me if I got hurt. Who would miss me if I... you know..."

I nodded, still holding him tight. I knew she could feel my heart beating through my breasts. It was a cold evening, and my arms had broken out in goosebumps. We were surrounded by the smell of garbage and cat piss. But even still, I did not want to go back inside. I wanted this embrace to continue into the night.

"May," Andy said shyly. "I think... I think I've figured something out."

"Yes?"

"I kind of realized tonight, facing the possibility of torture, of death, that there's someone I need to be honest with about my feelings. Someone I've been... unfair to for the last year."

"Yes?" I gulped. My heart ached to hear Andy's next words. He smiled and stroked my back, then buried his face into my shoulder.

"I need to go see Rose."

I froze in place, trying to not let Andy feel my disappointment.

"Can I take your car?"

Twenty minutes later, Andy had bumped and coughed the car down the block, and I sat in the living room with Marshal. I lay in a daze on the couch, and Marsh sat in a chair pulled from the kitchenette.

"Tough break, kid," he said, opening a can of beer. "It's been a long night."

I turned to her. "Why did you come here? How did you find me?"

He laughed. "I asked around about an annoying, rusty pickup truck. You're pretty easy to find, as we saw tonight. Even that dumb bitch Cassidy found you."

I nodded. That truck had brought me nothing but trouble. But then again, I remembered fondly sitting in the back of the truck with the frogs singing, next to Marshal.

"But why did you come here?"

He took a deep drink of beer. "The photos. My computer died and I lost all the evidence of last night's affair. I need to borrow your camera and upload the pictures again."

"The camera!" I cried. "I totally forgot. I don't have it here, it's at the coffee shop!"

I sat up. "How'd you get here? Can you drive us?"

He shook her head. "I took a taxi."

I was confused. "How were you going to get home?"

Marsh took another long drink of beer. And then another. He didn't answer for a while. "I, uh... hadn't thought that far ahead."

I took a long look at Marsh. He still wore her trench coat, and underneath a linen shirt and jeans. I noticed his eyes glance towards the door and then away, almost embarrassed. I looked closer into the night. Outside, hidden next to a potted plant, was Marsh's gym bag. I wondered for a moment what Marsh had brought to my home, and why.

"Marsh, will you wait here while I get the camera?"

Marsh shook his head. "I should get going back. It's a beautiful night for a walk, foggy and cold, just as I like it."

He stood up and, buttoning the trench coat over his broad shoulders, walked to the door. Sheepishly, Marsh picked up the gym bag. Then he turned back towards me and tipped his cricket cap. "Here's looking at you, kid."

And then Marshal Saint-Claud walked out into the foggy night.

I stared after him for a long time. My heart was a nest of confusion. Thoughts of Andy and Marsh raced through my head. Was I some kind of idiot, or a heartbreaker? Had I been flirting with Andy and Marsh this whole time? Were these beautiful men actually interested in me? Or was I just projecting my excitement, my desire?

I wished, in that moment, that I was a better detective.

I got a thick sweater and ran out the door. I charged down the foggy street back to Coffee & Pie. In the window I could see stools placed on top of tables. 'Damn, I thought, 'it's closed.' However, a light glowed from some back room.

I came to the glass door and knocked. No answer. I tried the door, and to my surprise it was still unlocked. I opened the door slowly, trying to not let the bell above it jingle. I crept inside.

At the back was the table I'd sat at. But there was nothing there. Of course, they would have put the camera in the lost and found.

I heard some movement from behind the counter. There was a door marked 'Employees Only,' slightly open. Soft light leaked from behind the door.

I don't know why I didn't call out.

I walked behind the counter, behind the glass cases empty of their pies, by the espresso machine and the milk steamer, past bags of coffee beans. I opened the door.

Behind the door was a combination of an employee's lounge and storage. The walls were lined with shelves loaded with bags and boxes of beans, machines, and cooking supplies. In the center of the room was a wooden table with some folding chairs. And in the back was a couch, a lumpy twin to the one in the main room.

The boy with the sandy hair sat on the couch. He had my camera in one hand. He had unzipped his tight jeans and taken out his cock, and the other hand was busy stroking. His work shirt was unbuttoned and below I could see a smooth, hairless chest.

He looked up at me and I looked down at him.

I put a finger to my lips. "Shh."

I walked to him and took the camera from his hands. On the digital screen was a picture of Cassidy deep-throating Marshal's cock. I put the camera on a shelf and lifted my sweatshirt and shirt over my head in one motion. I tossed them on the table, took off my bra, and knelt in front of the coffee shop boy.

He was staring at me silently, his blue eyes wide and yet hot with desire behind his black-framed glasses. He started to say something, but I shook my head.

I wrapped my fingers around his swollen cock. Precum beaded above the big purple head. I rubbed my thumb over the precum, the spread it around. The boy groaned with pleasure. He reached up for a moment, but I said, "Keep your hands there."

With one hand I kept swirling my thumb over the head of his cock, covering it in precum. With my other hand, I started barely touching his shaft, just my fingertips playing over its length. The head of his cock swelled even bigger, and more cum beaded up. I felt my mouth watering. I started stroking his cock, slowly, feeling its firmness. I lowered my head and ran the tip of my tongue over the head of his cock. I licked up some of the precum. It was a little salty, but not bad.

On the couch, the coffee shop boy was breathing heavily. I could almost hear his heart beating.

I kept my lips mere centimeters from his dick and kept stroking. I put both hands on his shaft and slowly moved my hands up and down. Finally, slowly, I brought my lips to his cock. I kissed the head, then moved my lips down and over the swelling. It was so warm and tasted barely of sweat. Saliva flooded my mouth, and I ran my tongue under the head as I continued to stroke with both hands.

Suddenly I felt possibilities open up before me. I'd been so afraid of this moment, so hesitant in all my dates to reach the time when I'd have my shirt off and a cock in my hands or my mouth. I was afraid I wouldn't know what to do.

But now I had so many ideas.

I wanted to feel the cock everywhere.

Starting with my throat. I had the sudden burning desire to know how deep I could take it. How much of this cock I could swallow.

I looked up into the boy's blue eyes. I lowered my head slowly, feeling the cock slide down my tongue towards the back of my throat. As the head of the cock pressed against the back of my mouth, I felt myself cough and gag. I pulled the cock from my mouth, thick ropy saliva dripping all over it. I took a deep breath and recovered. The dick looked so good gleaming like that. I started stroking it faster and faster, moving my hand all the way from the purple tip to its base. I swear it grew even harder and bigger with each stroke.

I lowered my mouth to it again. Knowing how it would feel this time, I suppressed my gag reflex and took the cock even deeper into my mouth. I felt it press against the back of my throat and then slip deeper. I pressed my nose all the way to the boy's jeans, feeling his dick swollen in my throat. I swallowed, and my throat muscles pressed against it. I held the cock there for one second, two... I counted all the way to eight and then pulled back, gasping for air. As I panted, saliva dripping down my chin and onto my breasts, I kept stroking the shaft.

I looked at the coffee shop boy again. His face was flushed in ecstasy. His hips started bucking, pushing against the rhythm of my hand. I realized he was getting close to cumming. I slowed my stroking down to a minimum, just moving it up and down about an inch at the base of his cock.

The coffee shop boy gulped and finally spoke, stuttering in his passion. "Y-you took those pictures?"

I nodded.

"God, they're so hot. When I saw your camera, I couldn't help myself. I started flipping through the pictures. And when I saw that woman and man... I just got so horny. Being here all alone, I started fantasizing about you coming back and finding me. And then you walked through the door."

I started stroking hire up the shaft again, just a little at a time. The head was swollen up bigger than a strawberry. I couldn't imagine fitting that swollen thing into my pussy, or anywhere else.

"This is my fantasy," he whispered. "Right here, right now. I- I want to fuck you so bad."

I grinned at him. "I want you to keep stroking," I said, and stood up. "But don't cum. Not yet."

I unbuckled my pants and slipped out of my panties. The boy on the couch masturbated slowly, his eyes running over my body. I watched his hand, taking note for the next time I had my own hands there. My pussy was hot, red, and wet. I stood with my legs spread around his knees. The boy's cock was pointed straight up at my pussy, an arrow headed for its target.

But I wanted this to last.

With one hand I started kneading my breasts. I ran the other down over my abs to my throbbing pussy. I ran a finger over my clit and through my pussy lips, hooking it around and then sliding it in and out.

The coffee shop boy started stroking faster, his eyes on my tits and my pussy.

As I fingered myself, my palm pressed against my clit, and my other fingers encircled my pussy lips. I started sliding my finger in and out, faster and faster.

I thought of how I had just deep-throated the boy's cock, and what I was going to do next. I felt fire in my pussy, heat spreading over my chest and up my neck. But I felt a quivering somewhere else, too. I thought of Cassidy with her strap-on and her threats to fuck my ass. I realized the thought turned me on.

I put two fingers in my mouth and coated them in saliva. I reached back and, as I fingered my pussy, I rubbed saliva between my cheeks over my asshole. My hips started rocking back and forth. It was an incredible, uncontrolled feeling. I started breathing faster and faster.

Just below me, the coffee shop boy unbuckled his belt and slid his pants and underwear down and off. With one hand he continued to stroke his cock, and with the other he started massaging his balls.

I kept fingering my pussy and watching the boy masturbate. I couldn't believe how big and hard his gleaming cock looked. I kept rubbing my asshole, and then I slid a finger inside.

"God!" I cried out.

It was an incredible feeling of both power and powerlessness. Heat spread from my asshole to my pussy and all throughout my body.

I grabbed onto the boy's shoulders and stepped up onto the couch. I crouched down and lowered myself onto his cock. In one swift motion, I buried his dick deep into my pussy until my hips were pressed against his. I lifted myself until all except the head of his cock slid out, then pounded down again, hard. Over and over, I bounced on his dick, feeling it fill me, feeling my clit slam against his hips.

I lowered myself to my knees and once again swallowed up his cock into my pussy. I started grinding myself against his hips, chasing the fire I felt every time I rubbed my clit against his skin. I lowered my chest to the boy's face and he started sucking on my nipples. I moaned loudly and bucked harder, slamming my pussy down over his cock again and again. The boy reached around and grabbed my ass in a strong hand. He kneaded my ass like dough, then slipped a finger between my cheeks and pressed it against the rose of my asshole.

"Yes!" I screamed. "Yes! Yes!"

I ground harder, harder. I reached down with one hand and started rubbing furiously at my clit. The boy slipped one finger into my asshole. I screamed out, grabbed the boy's head and shoved his face into my tits. I felt myself climax. My body shook with pleasure. I grabbed a handful of the boy's sandy hair, pulled his head back, and gave him a deep kiss, my tongue sliding into his mouth.

I stayed there a moment, panting. Then I reached down and slid his cock out of my pussy.

It was coated in my juices, and still rock hard and swollen.

I turned my body so that I was crouching on the couch cushions, my ass in the air. I started stroking the boy's cock again, and lowered my lips. I took the cock in my mouth, bobbing my head, letting it fill my mouth and then rising up again. With one hand I grabbed the boy's balls in a firm grip, and with the other I held the base while my head bobbed down and up.

The boy reached over and slid a finger into my pussy. He started finger-fucking me while I sucked his cock. My pussy, still sensitive, quivered under his touch. His arm rubbed against my ass as he fingered me.

I felt the boy's balls tighten up within my hand. I lowered my head further, relaxing my throat. The head of his cock pushed past the back of my mouth and entered my throat. The boy pumped his fingers faster, and I felt myself building towards a climax again. I kept his dick deep in my throat and suddenly the coffee shop boy groaned loudly. I felt hot cum shoot down my throat and I swallowed and swallowed and swallowed. His release triggered mine. I reached back and grabbed his hand, keeping his fingers in my pussy as I came a second time.

I lifted my head, feeling his cock slide out of my throat. Saliva and cum hung from my lips. I could see that the boy's hand was coated in my own juices.

Laughing, I lay back on the couch and put my legs over his lap. Playfully, I held his now limp, but still long cock between my calves.

"Jesus," he laughed. "That was amazing."

I laughed, relieved. "Yeah, that was... incredible."

Suddenly he looked into my eyes. I saw embarrassment there. "Can I tell you something? I... I don't even know your name," he said. "When you introduced yourself to me, I didn't catch your name, and then another customer came and it was too late."

"Oh my god!" I laughed. "I was going to tell you the same thing. I couldn't hear your name and then I was too ashamed to ask again. I'm May."

She smiled at me. "I'm Chris. It's been nice to fuck you, May."

I laughed again. "It was fantastic fucking you, Chris."

Chris sighed, and then lowered himself to the couch so that he was spooning me from behind. "I don't want this to be over," he said.

I nodded. I thought of the last two days. I thought of seeing the Craigslist ad for the photography job. I thought of watching Andy touch himself and nearly touching myself at the same time. I thought of Marshal, with his orange briefs and black dildo. I thought of him using the dildo on Cassidy.

Then I thought of Cassidy with her knife. Cassidy with her tire iron and strap-on, threatening Andy and I. Marshal with his gun. Marshal with his gym bag full of who knows what, at my house, on a foggy night.

I thought of my virginity, that I'd carried like a shameful secret for so long.

I huddled within Chris's embrace and cried.

I was releasing something that day. I was releasing my shame, or my virginity, or my naivete, or my cowardice. I don't know. But the sobs rushed out of me, taking Chris by surprise.

Unfortunately, it wasn't the reaction he was looking for.

I'd love to say that I got the guy, and that we're having hot sex every night in the apartment where I used to flirt with Andy. I'd like to say that Andy and Rob got back together and got married and adopted three children. I'd like to say that Marshal went on to have a long career as a successful private detective, and that he and I never faced danger like that again.

But none of those are true.

In truth, Chris wasn't looking for a relationship, and he was also really weirded out by my crying. In time, our conversations devolved back into asking for, and receiving, an Americano and a slice of pie.

Andy and Rob were on-again, off-again for the next year. When they were off, Andy showered me with affections. We continued to flirt and to prank each other. And once we both got drunk and masturbated in front of each other. But nothing else developed past friendship.

Marshal Saint-Claud did have a long career as a private detective. I continued to help him in his cases. But we couldn't avoid the dangers inherent in a career of investigation. We faced threats far worse than Cassidy, and not without paying a cost.