Kendrick Johnson P I

Greetings all; in my stories my characters exist in my head, but there might be real life inspirations for some of them. Who knows?

This is my contribution to the private dick genre.

~

Preface.

To all that know her Celia Wheatstraw was the epitome of charm, grace and propriety in every area of her life. She's a tall blonde, with a swimmers body, nice juicy melons, and a pretty face with an aristocratic nose. While she doesn't hide her sizable assets, she also doesn't flaunt them, and when it comes to intimacy she is equally conservative in her behavior.

She isn't a prude, but she's always preferred intercourse with her husband to happen in their bed in a dimly lit or darkened room. She sucked his cock, but she didn't swallow his cum. When she gave herself to him in the doggy position, she'd ask him not to look at her backdoor. On those rare occasions when she rode him, her movements were subtle and her stay up there was always short lived.

Her husband Petey Wheatstraw had gone along with her conservatism in the sack until the night he finally gave her a good old-fashioned fucking. He grabbed her ankles, spread her legs wide, then pushed them forward until her feet touch the bed. Her honey pot was then completely exposed to him and he took advantage of her vulnerable position by driving his cock into it to the root. He then fucked her with a rhythm she'd never experienced and hammered her poontang until she came unlike she'd ever cum before.

After the deed was done she felt like a wanton slut for enjoying it so much.

Since that night he's nailed her the same way every time they do it, and not only that, sometimes he's face fucked her and drained his nuts down her throat.

Deep down she's loved every second of it, but she doesn't approve of that type of behavior for herself. So in an effort to cleanse her conscience for her uncivilized conduct she complained about it to her mother. She left out the racy details, instead opting to tell her that her husband's deportment had taken a sudden turn.

"Its like he's a different person," she said to her mother. She then sniffled and fought back a tear before adding, "He's, he's, his appetite is like we're newlyweds again."

As her mother listened to her daughter's concerns, she came to the obvious conclusion that he was cheating on her. She immediately called her attorney and instructed her to find a female private investigator.

~

The female private investigator that her mother's attorney chose was me, Kendrick Butch Johnson. I was assigned male at birth, and grew up as a boy until adulthood, then lived as a man until I decided to transition. At that time I was a cop, but some of my fellow officers started giving me crap over my decision to become a woman, so I chose to try private detective work.

I think I'm a stunningly good looking six footer, with a great figure, some big ole d-cup titties, a fine ass, and I still have muscles. Even though I present myself as a woman, I still love my cock, and I have a large one.

Chapter 1

It was Monday morning when I walked up the hallway from my bedroom to my living room, which has been converted to my reception area. I greeted my office manager Vetta. "Good morning sexy," I said before kissing her on her cheek. "How was your weekend?"

"Morning Boss," she responded in her typical perky way. "It was great. Thanks for asking. How was yours?"

"Not bad, not bad at all," I said, sounding equally upbeat. "I thought I heard voices in here a few minutes ago."

Vetta nodded toward my closed office door.

My expression asked the question.

Vetta responded saying, "Mrs. Monica Young and her oldest daughter Mrs. Celia Wheatstraw are in there." She smirked and added, "Her highness Mrs Young feels rather entitled, and she didn't want them to sit out here with me. I think you'll like her."

I grimaced and then I exhaled before going in there to face the music. "Come see about me in five minutes," I said to Vetta before turning to go into my office.

When I stepped inside Mrs Young looked over her reading glasses at me. She had her cellphone in her hand and she was obviously texting. Her daughter was also holding her cellphone and looking nervous.

I was wearing jeans, a form fitting top that displayed my torso to its best affect, and a baseball cap. All in all I was looking quite butch, no pun intended. "Good morning ladies," I said cordially, speaking in a husky voice. "I'm Butch Johnson."

"Hm," Monica Young responded, while looking me up and down. "I heard you could pass as a man or a woman. Looking at you, I suppose that's true, but at least you're pretty." She stated it with no sign that she was concerned what so ever about my feelings. "I'm Monica Young," announced the fifty something cherubic brunette woman with big hair.

"This is my daughter Celia Wheatstraw."

While looking directly at Monica I said, "It's so nice to meet you." I was sounding so sweet I was obviously being passive aggressive. I then looked at Celia more sincerely and said, "May I offer y'all coffee, or a latte, or another beverage?"

"Irish coffee," said Monica, "With a double shot of cognac." Then she checked the message she'd just received.

Celia whispered, "Mother," under her breath, "You've already had one of those and its still morning."

Then she looked at me and said, "I'll have a latte please."

After spending less than five minutes with Monica I was tempted to pour a drink for myself. When I opened my office door to call out to Vetta, as I expected she was eavesdropping, and she had her hand over her mouth to stifle herself from laughing. "One Irish coffee and one latte coming up," she said, snickering all the way to the kitchen.

A couple of minutes later she delivered the beverages, and Monica Young had the nerve to hold a finger in the air as a signal for Vetta to wait for her to taste the coffee before going back to her desk. Once Monica decided that she was satisfied with Vetta's effort she thanked her and referred to her as hun.

I watched the little drama play out, all the time knowing it would cost me a dinner and a drink to make it up to Vetta.

Once Vetta left Monica took a big gulp of her coffee and then got right to the point. "Ms Johnson you come highly recommended for handling situations that involve delicate personal matters, and you're known for getting results," she explained. "I'm concerned that Celia's husband is cheating on her, and I want you to put our minds at rest as far as that's concerned."

"And why do you think he's cheating?" I asked.

Monica looked at Celia then looked at me and said, "Her husband's recent, um, performance in the bedroom has improved...a lot."

"Hm, I see," I said, with a quick glance at Celia.

Monica then explained her rationale for reaching her conclusion. "I know how it works," she said. "I was much nicer to my husband when I had a plaything on the side. I gave him myself more often, and I was willing to be um..., more adventurous you might say."

While there was some validity to her reasoning, I was surprised to hear her admit her own indiscretion, especially in front of her daughter, but I guess that second Irish coffee had kicked in. Regardless I kept my cool and responded like the worldly private dick that I am. "Do tell," I said.

To my surprise she did. "My lover's cock looked like that hand carved brown wood dildo sculpture on your table," she added. "It was also the same color, and just as hard."

Well, let me tell ya, my dick got hard when she said that, because the dildo she was admiring is a replica of my cock. "I'm sure the person that dildo is modeled after would be pleased that you like it," I said. Then I looked at her with a knowing smile.

Monica sorta smiled in a way that said she got me, and then she took another gulp of her Irish coffee.

I raised an eyebrow for a second then looked at Celia who looked mortified at what she'd just heard her mother say. She forced a quick smile at me, then she glanced at her mother again in disbelief.

I gave her a reassuring smile then said, "Want to tell me about it Celia?"

After a long, long moment she started to speak then hesitated before saying, "Its not easy to talk about...that's why we chose a female private investigator." There was a questioning tone to her voice when she said female, and she arched an eyebrow at me before going on.

I maintained my impassive face, and made sure my body language was positive.

"Its my husband Petey," added Celia, then she paused.

I stayed quiet to encourage her to tell me more. She responded by looking at her hands as she fiddled with the large diamond on her wedding set. Finally she said, "Its our sex life."

She paused again, but I stayed quiet and let her go at her own pace. She took a couple of deep breaths then took a quick look at her mother before adding more. "Lately he's been giving me the kind of fucking I'd only heard my girlfriends talk about."

"And that's a problem how?" I asked, taking care to use a softened voice.

Celia looked me in the eyes, then said, "It's not just the sex, he's paying more attention to me, he's started going to the Rec Center to work out, and he's losing weight."

"That's a problem how?" I repeated. "There are lots of possible explanations I can think of for a man becoming more attentive to his woman. And losing weight and exercising is never a bad idea for any of us."

"You don't understand," she protested. "This is more than him just figuring out where my clit is, he's wearing me out down there. She then closed her eyes and took a few calming breaths before going on. "He's...recently...he's been putting me in positions...and doing things to me that make me feel like a whore."

Monica was staring at her intensely, and the color of the skin on her neck had started to change. She was getting turned on. I'd heard some of everything during my time as a cop and in this business, but it sounded like the only concern these two had was that Celia's husband was laying a good fucking on her.

"Is he hurting you, or degrading you, or forcing you to do anything against your will?" I asked out of care for her, and concern for legality.

Celia paused for a long moment before replying. When she did she said, "No, no he's not mistreating me, it's just that mother raised me to be a proper lady."

That sealed it for me, but they were rich and they wanted to hire me, so I told them that my fee was one thousand dollars up front, plus expenses, and one thousand dollars when I find the reason for Celia's husband's behavior.

~

Chapter 2

I was surprised to find out that both Celia and Petey had regular jobs. She would inherit millions but her parents expected her to make her own way in the world as long as they were living. So the next morning I was at their house when Petey left for work, the thing Celia didn't tell me was that he was a mobile technician, meaning he was at a different customer site nearly every day, and some days he had multiple customer sites to attend to.

"Oh darn. I forgot to tell you that," she responded when I called her after the first day that I followed him and ended up touring the whole damn city.

It was the same routine day after day, Monday through Thursday. He went to work, and unless he was doing something untoward while at customer sites, there was nothing going on with him until he went home to Celia at the end of the day.

Friday afternoon I followed Petey to the Rec Center where I thought I'd find some dirt on him if there was any. I put a do-rag on my head to protect the cute bob haircut that I'd just gotten done the previous weekend. I also dressed in men's gear, which made me look like a tomboy. I'm nearly six feet tall with an athlete's body and a decent basketball handle, which gave me cover while I kept an eye on him.

A couple of minutes after Petey walked into the rec center I strolled into the gym in time to watch him shake hands with his buddies. They situated themselves and proceeded to engage in some lock room talk.

I pretended to pay attention to the basketball game but I was listening to them when the guy named Morris leaned close to Petey and said, "Did you do that thing I told you to do with the Mrs.?"

Petey smoothly bumped fists with Morris, and he was especially smooth for a white guy bumping fists, then said, "Yeah, I put her in the full buck and hammered that pudenda of hers until she started talking in tongues."

Morris laughed out loud; obviously satisfied that Celia Wheatstraw had responded the way he said she would.

The guy named Larry said, "Mo, the dick ain't everything. Petey, have you been pampering her, and doin that shit with her that ladies like, the way I told you to do?"

"Yeah man," responded Petey, as he gave Larry some dap. "She's been putty in my hands."

Morris interrupted Larry's conversation saying, "Damn Petey, checkout Paula, that girl is bad. I don't care how big her pole is I'd let her suck my shaft."

"I heard that her rod is bigger than all of ours," said the guy named John."

"Speak for yourself," said Morris with a cackling laugh.

"That don't matter to me," said John. "Ain't gon be but one knob that gets sucked, and that's mine," he said before laughing and fist bumping with Petey.

I looked around trying to figure out who they were talking about, but all I saw was a group of women doing Zumba. "Pardon me gentlemen for butting in, but which one y'all talking bout?" I asked.

The one named John looked at me for a long moment, then said, "The Zumba instructor."

"Thanks man," I said and offered my fist to bump. I then gave Paula the once over several times. She was a fine looking woman; probably only five foot three, with a round ass, big titties and she had a big toothy grin on her face. After my inspection I doubted that the guys knew what they were talking about, because she wasn't easy to clock.

I was still trying to tell if she had a bulge down there when I heard someone say, "Who got next?" I spoke up and said, "It's my game, I got next," then I invited Morris, John, Larry and Petey to run the court with me. They were pretty good ballers including Petey and we won three games in a row, but unfortunately Morris felt tightness in his hamstring and had to shut it down for the night. Another guy took his place and we ended up losing the next game.

All the guys gave me props and good naturedly said that I was an alright player for a girl. Larry and John called it a night and headed out after bumping fists with Morris and Petey, but before he left John sneaked a wink at me. Morris was still sitting on a bleacher rubbing his hammy when Petey went into the lock room. I decided to kill the time while I waited for him by talking with Morris. "Are you gonna be ok?" I asked him.

"Sure, I'll be fine as soon as my hamstring loosens up," he replied.

"I wish there was something I could do to help," I said, being real.

"It just needs the kink worked out of it," explained Morris. "I've just about got it, but it's easier for somebody else to rub it than for me to do it for myself."

"Like I said I'd help you if I could, but I don't know how to give that kind of massage," I said and giggled, then quickly stopped so Morris wouldn't think that I was flirting.

I quickly changed the subject and said, "Maybe you should ask Paula. Since she works for the rec center she might know about that stuff."

"I don't know her like that," he said, all of a sudden sounding shy.

I just smiled at him then glanced at Petey who was walking towards us. Men are so sad I thought to myself and shook my head. "I'll tell her that you need some attention," I said. "I heard what you said to John. This is your chance to talk with her."

Petey heard what I said, and agreed with me. "Go ahead Morris, practice what you preach," he encouraged him.

"What does he preach?" asked Butch.

"He says women like it when their man takes control," replied Petey.

"They do," insisted Morris. "But Paula got a dick."

"Didn't I hear you say you didn't care about that?" I asked.

"I was just talking ish," he admitted. "You already know how it is," he stated hesitantly. "Look...you know...," he started, then apparently lost his nerve.

I raised one eyebrow and said, "I know what?"

"No disrespect, but you know that If I mess with a sissy folks will think I'm suspect," he responded.

He thought I was gay, or a dyke, or something. I had to bite my tongue to keep from going off on him. After taking a big breath I decided to let that go, but I had to push back a little on Paula's behalf. "I don't know Paula's business, but if she's transgender she's as much a female as any other woman," I said calmly. "It's not 'gay' for her to like men, or for men to like her.

"Now I'm going to go get her for you. I'm going to say to her that I heard you tell Petey you thought she was hot. If she still comes over here, tell her how sexy you think she is. If you punk-out Petey will see that you're all talk and no action." Then I laughed to keep it friendly.

"Okay okay," conceded Morris after looking at Petey.

I was proud of myself for what I'd said, and when I approached Paula I greeted her with a smile and said, "Hello, I'm Butch."

Paula looked at me and I could tell that she immediately clocked me, but she couldn't decide whether or not to go there.

I recognized her dilemma and made it easy for her. "I'm in the community," I said in a soft feminine voice.

Paula then smiled big and said, "Hey girl," before offering her hand to shake.

We bonded right away and I told her about the conversation I'd overheard between the guys. Paula told me that a lot of the guys at the Rec Center tried to holla at her, and she could tell that others would if they were sure no one would find out. When I asked if John and Morris were two of them, Paula told me yes.

"How about Larry?" I asked.

"He's married, I think," Paula guessed. "Regardless, I get the impression somebody's got him trained."

"And Petey," I said nonchalantly.

She told me that he was harmless, and that he'd been coming to the rec center for a few months and all he did was workout or play basketball.

After getting the dish from her, I told her about Morris's injury.

Paula giggled and said, "I'll see what I can do to help him."

I then tailed Petey home.

~

Chapter 3

It was the weekend and Celia had told me that she and Petey had stuff planned to do together both days. Apparently she didn't mind the attention he was giving her as much as she pretended, and I had a feeling little Miss Prissy didn't actually mind the raw fucking either. But I had a job to do and I figured the quickest way to get the whole truth about Petey was to grill Morris and John.

I knew just who to talk to to get closer to them, so I went back to the rec center to talk with Paula.

She was happy to see me and she couldn't wait to tell me all about Morris.

She said, "Girl I owe you one."

She told me that when she went to see about him that night she flirted with him from the jump saying, "Hey there mister, I'm the Rec Center's trainer. Butch told me that you have a muscle that you need me to rub."

He nervously mumbled, "I'm alright."

She said that at that point she decided to try to seduce him asking, "Which leg is it, left, right, or middle?"

He laughed and said, "Middle."

When he said that she said she asked, "What's gonna be in it for me?"

He said, I'll buy you a beer."

She said she told him, "I don't drink beer," then she said, "Come on lets go to the trainer's room so you can lay down and I'll rub the left or the right one."

When she got him on the trainer's table she said she grabbed a handful of his right hamstring and he didn't respond, but when she grabbed the left one he screamed.