Missing Heir

"Indeed, lying in the nude and stroking myself. Interested?"

"Who could not be. But I would like to come and chat about you son."

"Come?"

"Err, should not you have focused on the word 'son'."

"Ah, yes, forgive me. My mind was focused on other things of interest to my... err... my well-being."

"Then adjust your mind and re-focus."

"Omigod, you are exposing yourself as a dominant Alpha Male. I'm dripping."

"You're what?"

"Pardon me, come on over but be warned, Charles is away somewhere chasing after pussy?"

"Chasing after what?"

"Business contacts, I should have said."

"Right, I'm on my way over to you."

"Can you last all night?"

"Pardon me?"

"I was saying you may pass the night here. We have oodles of bedrooms."

"As I said, I'm coming over to you now."

"Omigod, I await with my mouth wide open."

Jon shook his head thinking the woman had hearing or comprehension problem when on the phone or was she a little nutty?

He arrived at the Brentwood-Adams' impressive mansion in the inner suburb of Annandale and sited on a large field lightly stocked with Hereford Bulls and fenced off from the surrounding modern housing subdivisions.

Matilda met him at the door.

"Why hello darling," she gushed, big boobs moving about wildly, and attempted to kiss him lushly on the lips but her lips landed on the left ear of his jerked away hard.

"Mrs Brentwood-Adams, decorum please. I'm one of your two investigating consultants, not the paper delivery boy or the butcher van driver with your kitchen's weekly order."

"Oh, how decidedly confused you appear to be you unreasonably shy young man who has no idea how to cope with my usually supressed sexual urges, preferences and perversions."

Alarmed, Jon turned and was off, just hitting the pace of bolting, when ma'am called "Stop!" in a falsetto shriek that brought him to a skidding halt as if confronted her holding a shotgun aimed squarely at his testicles.

He panted uncertainly.

"Fear me not, young man," she said sweety. "For fuck sake, I'm only a female."

Jon lied, "I had just remembered I'd not turned off the ignition of my vehicle."

"No matter, the motor will stop if it runs out of fuel," she said, with practical female logic.

"Are you here to fuck me, knowing that my husband is away with your wench?"

"The thought hadn't occurred to me," Jon without the aitch said shakily. "I'm here to minutely look for clues that might lead to his current whereabout, of the interior of the garden shed that your son uses to escape his mother, err, I mean to use as an sanctuary of quietude for intellectual thought."

"Jon, you mean to use to masturbate where he's likely to be undisturbed, or is that just saying the same thing as you were?"

"Whatever. Does your son take drugs?"

"Absoluter not. I'm the only one is this family who does, and my classification is a sniffer."

"Well, that sounds like a credible answer. Please point me to the garden shed."

"Which one, we have three?"

Jon said the one which had just been the focus of their discussion.

Matilda pointed dramatically, "Over there beside the big Hereford-Brahman-cross bull named

Testículo -Enorme that is sending liquid crap down the whitewash wall of the shed."

Jon fled.

He had not wish to hear the obviously on-drugs Matilda say anything more with a flourish such as to come up to the house for a nude lunch beside purple and scented water of the pool.

It could be argued that Matilda was the reason why her son was reported missing and why her husband had sloped away for the weekend with Phyllis to fuck peacefully without being engulfed in a constant stream of inane chatter.

Jon opened the door of the garden shed that was set into the fence-line, thus protecting him from inquisitive bulls. He looked inside and sighed, having confirmed it was indeed a real mess.

He set about beginning from the doorway and working across to the far wall in the first of successive six-feet wide swaths, examining everything, throwing rubbish into a bit carboard carton and stacking up everything in an orderly fashion.

He received a call at 12.45 and expected the caller to be Phyllis between bouts of robust sex but it was Matilda who said brusquely to come up to poolside and lunch.

She appeared much calmer, indeed almost sleepy and, sitting back, pulled her dress high completely exposed her bald large vulva at extremely close range.

"Interested?"

"Nope."

"Arsehole."

"Whore."

"Ah," she said. "I've received my undeserved comeuppance. Let's eat."

As with many forensic-class searches when working for the Police, the 'bingo' discovery was made right at the end a 3.50 when Jon was carefully examining the contents of the overflowing rubbish bin beside the desk at a relatively clear cover at the far end of the room.

A discarded unfinished draft letter in scrawled handwriting read"

Mom and Dad

Just a note to advise that I'm leaving for Perth to stay with grandma for a month or two. I'm fed up with you two scrapping almost every day usually over something piddling but viciously when it's over money or who's having sex with whom. I've also had a gutful of mum's whining to you and me dad about how bored and how unloved she is.

Just don't come after me, huh. Grandma says I'll have no trouble

The note was not finished, dated or signed, suggesting it was a draft or that Charlie had been interrupted or had decided not to leave a note.

Fifteen minutes later, with the room examination completed and no drugs being found and only two empty beer cans, Jon went over to the pool and shook Matilda awake. She was nude with a huge dildo partly up her rectum.

She apologized for her state of undress and read the note.

"Yes, that's Charlie's scrawl, the little arsehole going off like that without telling us."

She picked up the phone and had a brief conversation with someone about nothing and then asked was Charlie with her (obviously her mother) and confirmed that Charlie was living with his gran and intended staying with her until the end of summer.

Giving the opportunity to speak to him, Matilda said savagely, "No fucking way; I don't speak to arseholes."

"I'm now calling my husband with the news for him and that slut he's with and demand they return to return Sydney."

Matilda threw her phone into the pool and screamed to Jon, "And you piss off right now. Charles will post our payment into your bank account."

* * *

When Phyllis arrived home hours later, the first word she said was "Hi" and the second was "Sex?"

Jon was tempted, he'd missed her and still had visions of the terrible Matilda writhing all over him and soaking him in fluids.

"I'm tempted but your pussy will be awash with Charles' cum."

"No way, I insisted he always wore a condom. He was unspectacular at se x until the young daughter of the couple next door come over, caught us at it and began stripping off and asking if she could join us."

"Charles, choked with fear at being caught committing adultery couldn't reply and she had the body or a sportswoman and so I said yes. We combined to fuck Charles into exhaustion and then had an amazing erotic time together that lasted several hours."

"Learn anything new?"

"She taught me how to maintain good balance for little effort in coming up over his tits and hovering in a squat with my pussy directly over her mouth and oh boy, did we both have a great time eating pussy in that manner."

"Great,' John said, taking he hand. "Let's go to bed and wallow in our first time of having sex together. We have solved our Missing Heir case satisfactorily and with great skill I managed to keep that repulsive Matilda away from my mouth, cock and fingers. She was on drugs and behaving repulsively."

Footnote

Phyliss Brooke and Jon Cabot are now both Police constables in Sydney. They were hired after Jon successfully argued that the report from Melbourne stated that they had been summarily dismissed from the Victorian Police Force for unbecoming behaviour and misuse of public money, Jon emphasising they had not been dishonourably dismissed.

Two weeks later they received their letters of appointed and advice they would work for eight weeks with the codicil that their status would be then reviewed including the possibility of Phyliss being reinstated to the rank of sergeant.

For the first eight weeks, they would be assigned to patrolling school frontages, parking lots and parks looking for loitering suspicious or indeed furtive-looking characters and school pupil truants and bail absconders.

The End