One Eyed Jack

All of this could have been avoided...the stench, this desperate attempt to get away. But now it was too late. Jack was once a great detective, he solved the cases as if he had a sixth sense, but that was all far-gone, his special eye, the eye of his mind had been closed by dumb-funded desire. He had fallen into a trap that any halfwit would have avoided. But he violated the first rule: not to be affected by the client in question, now accelerating with a heavy foot on the vista cruiser he remembered how it all began full of despair and regrets.

When she had first entered his office, with the scent of a thousand flowers and dressed somewhere between a whore and a fair maiden he had felt struck at once, he coughed and let out puffs of his ever-hanging cigarette from the corner of his mouth. As she spoke he paid more attention to her red and black dress than her words, but accustomed to this sort of talk he understood what it was all about. Her husband had disappeared a few days ago, and she was convinced that he had run away with some other woman. She wanted pictures so that she could file a divorce. He agreed and started at once dropping the case of the stolen car.

She wanted to hear news of all his progress in the investigation at once and she insisted on doing so at expensive and boring and "luxury" restaurants and sometimes at hotel buffets. He first said that he wasn't used to doing that but since she paid for all the meals he accepted. He was quite embarrassed because he hadn't found anything about her husband. Each time she wore sexier dresses and to his surprise one evening she asked him to dance with her, she was wearing such a short skirt that everyone else would notice them, especially when she dropped her lighter and bent to pick it up uncovering her red underwear.

During the conventional slow song she kissed him passionately, he should have stopped her then but he was quite aroused and he fund unable to control himself. They took a room immediately, and fucked in haste, he remembered the firmness of her breasts and thighs perfectly as he banged her in dog-like fashion, he enjoyed it very much, and fucked her violently until they both came, he did a bit later than her, he was still so exited that they did it again, she came on top this time still without facing him, and they fucked slowly and for a long time, the way she moved took him to levels of excitement he didn't think were possible, each move was so powerful that he couldn't help groaning. He held her big swollen breasts as they built up for their climax, her nipples got harder and harder pointing to the ceiling like the tip of umbrellas, and so did his jack, like a magnum about to fire, her warm red rose got tighter around it and pressed on it like a thousand fiery tongues and her ass had the firmness of a sculpture as it bumped on his belly. She was quiet but he could tell when she started to come since her tense muscles relaxed as the first waves of her orgasm spread through her body and his sperm started flowing. He was blinded with pleasure as he felt her soft body blossom over his. When they both finished they were exhausted, but the next moment she started getting dressed and told him that she had to be somewhere, and she gave him the keys to her car. She told him to meet her at her home, in the mansion and left in a hurry.

He woke up a couple hours later he went to the parking lot and pressed the button on the keypad, a car on the corner opened its doors, it was a vista cruiser, when he entered the car he realised that it was not any vista cruiser, it was the one that had been stolen. He turned on the ignition and started driving, when he was on the highway he started to smell something bad, something awfully bad, something that was apparently starting to rot. He lighted a cigarette to kill the smell... What was he doing? Something was terribly wrong here: this smell came from inside the car.

When he heard the police sirens behind him he understood at once. The guy that reported the missing car must have been the woman's lover, and the body of her husband that he killed was in the trunk, and now they've framed him. People had seen them together in many places, especially that night, she would say she was having an affair but she never expected that rotten detective to kill her dear husband... He stepped on the gas pedal and the police sirens grew louder. His last cigarette would soon be finished, and so would everything else, including himself.