Passions of Crime

Carrying the hit man downstairs with Camille, wrapped in two layers of bed sheets, was tiring and nerve-wracking, but you managed to get him to your car without being seen. Now he is hidden in the trunk, where you hope his blood isn't soaking through the sheets.

The traffic, already light, lessens more as you drive north. You glance over at Camille. Under the intermittent illumination of the streetlights, you can see her eyes are fixed on you and her breathing is shallow.

"Are you okay?" you inquire, already suspecting the truth.

"Sure!" she says, too quickly, looking away.

"C'mon, lady!" You are amused, but still somewhat incredulous of her unusual reactions. "This isn't a dangerous situation!"

She groans in frustration at herself. "Of course it is!" she cries. "We're hiding a dead body! What if we're caught?" She wrings her hands. "Oh, this is so stressful! This would be bad enough without wanting to jump your bones."

"I'll admit it's an inconvenience." You stroke her leg and she twitches and gasps. "Still," you add with a grin, "there are worse problems to have."

Camille glares daggers at you. "Well, you're just loving this, aren't you?"

You chuckle. "I'm not hating it." You turn right off the highway. Far from the busy docks now, the wharf is dark and silent as you pull up.

The full moon casts a pale and eerie light on the scene as you and Camille struggle with the body. You finally reach the end of the pier and roll it into the lake with a splash.

Camille grasps your arm tightly as you walk back to the car. Under different circumstances, you think, this might be quite romantic.

Inside the car, you reach to turn the key, but are interrupted as she grabs you and kisses you deeply. Despite your powerful orgasm not two hours ago, you feel a stirring in your loins that makes it very difficult to resist. "Are you sure you don't want to wait until we get to the hotel?" you ask when she finally comes up for air. "It'll be a lot more comfortable."

"James," she says breathily, already rubbing your cock through your pants. "You don't know what this is like. I'm not used to losing control like this." Her eyes plead with you.

"Alright, but I don't think there's even enough room in here," you say, looking around at your cramped confines.

"Well, let me touch you at least! Anything!" she begs.

"Okay," you relent with a smile. "I'm not cruel." You unzip your pants and pull out your half-hard cock. Camille seizes it eagerly with both hands.

You lean back and close your eyes with a sigh as her soft strokes quickly bring your manhood to full attention. "Someone's happy to be back," she remarks. "I should say hello."

Your eyes open just in time to see her gently kiss the tip of your dick, sending shivers of pleasure through you, and you moan softly. Camille moans in response, sliding her lips down over the head. Your hips twitch involuntarily.

She moves slowly down your shaft, while continuing to stroke you with one hand. Her silky smooth mouth feels unbelievably good around your cock. "Camille, that feels amazing."

"Mmm." You're not sure what that means, but she sounds happy. She sucks you slowly but forcefully, swirling her tongue across the underside of your stiff prick.

You reach out and squeeze her breast through her coat. She moans and arches her back, hips churning. You slide your hand up between her legs and push aside her panties, your fingers diving into her wet lips. "Mmmph!" she moans, sucking you harder than ever.

Camille bobs her head insistently as you find her hard nub. Her body shakes as you stroke over and around it with your fingertips. She presses down on your cock, trying to get more of it into her mouth. You thrust your hips up to meet her.

She grinds her hips into your hand, letting out muffled yelps at each stroke on her clit. She forms her hand and mouth into a tight tunnel, moving them as one to fuck your entire length. You feel yourself getting dangerously close. "Camille, wait..." you gasp, trying to pull your hips away.

"Mmm!" she exclaims sharply, gripping you tighter with her hand so you can't escape. Well, you think, if that's what she wants... You thrust into her exquisite mouth with abandon, and finger her clit harder than ever, hoping she is as close as you, desperate to satisfy this incredible woman.

Without warning, her legs clamp down on your hand. "Mmmmmmmm!" she moans, her whole body trembling. It's so sexy you find yourself instantly filling her mouth with cum. You grunt with each spurt, and Camille gulps it down as fast as it shoots out of you.

When you're finally finished, she releases you and gasps for air. You're concerned for a moment, but she is all smiles. "Oh, James, thank you!" She hugs you tightly. "You were simply marvelous," she beams.

Your eyebrows raise. "I was marvelous? You've got suction like a tornado, Camille."

Camille turns red. "I've only done that once before. Marcus never asked me to."

"Well, you're a natural, that's all I can say."

She smiles, grateful for the compliment. "It was with a boy in high school, but I would never have dreamed of... of swallowing it." From the look on her face, she can't decide whether to be disgusted or thrilled with herself.

You lean in and kiss her, and she kisses you back warmly. "I think you should do whatever makes you happy."

Camille is quiet as you drive to the hotel, as if pondering a whole range of new feelings. You take comfort in the small smile that's on her face the entire time.

The desk clerk gives you a suspicious look as he hands you the key, but he doesn't say anything. "What was his problem?" Camille asks as you walk to the room.

"He thinks you're a call girl." Camille gasps indignantly. "A very expensive call girl," you swiftly amend.

She sniffs haughtily. "That's more like it."

The room has two beds, but when you ask which one she wants, she looks at you as if you're crazy. "Just trying to be gentlemanly."

Camille laughs as she starts undressing. "Hate to say it, lover, but I think we passed manners sometime before you shot your sperm into me at both ends. Besides, I just wouldn't feel safe without you in my arms."

Despite the intimacy you've already shared, you feel a hot rush looking at her gorgeous figure. You swallow hard. "Do you usually sleep... in the nude?"

"Poor James, am I teasing you?" she asks, somewhat unnecessarily, as she slips off her panties. "I have pajamas at home, but that's no help now." She stretches out luxuriously on the bed, completely naked. She beckons you with one finger.

You decide if she's not going to be embarrassed, neither are you. You begin to undress. Camille is giggling, raising her arms above her head and arching her back, thrusting her breasts out at you.

You slide in next to her and pull up the covers. She melts into your arms and kisses you as if she has all the time in the world. You had wondered if she would still be aroused from the night's excitement. With none of her usual insistent in the kiss, it seems like she isn't, but she's still sensual as hell, moaning almost inaudibly as your hands glide over her smooth skin.

Slowly, her reactions grow weaker until she goes limp in your arms, falling asleep right in the middle of the kiss. It's just as well, you think, as you drift off yourself. You probably wouldn't have had the energy.

**********

You awaken to soft lips on your neck and a hand lazily fondling your morning wood. You pull Camille closer to you and gaze into her beautiful face.

"So what's the plan for today, Detective?"

"You seem to already have a plan." You indicate her hand, still gripping your hard shaft.

"More of a vague inkling, but I'm getting some ideas," she says coyly. "Do you need to be talked into it?"

"I think I have a pretty good idea where 'it' is." You cup your hand around her soft mound. "And how to get into it." Camille rubs herself against your hand as you kiss her.

"Unfortunately," you say, with no small amount of regret, "if I go in there, I won't want to leave this bed all day. And I have a lot to do and very little time."

"Aww," she pouts.

"Don't worry, I'll make it up to you later. Assuming we're not murdered."

"Of course," she replies casually, as if this is perfectly normal.

"Now unhand me, woman, or I'll never be able to pee!" Camille laughs and relinquishes your cock.

As you get dressed, you explain what you've figured out so far. "Marcus and Dean obviously uncovered something together and it got them killed. Since they both work in insurance, we have to assume that's related somehow. We need evidence from one of the companies in the article that proves Mandrill's involvement, and we need it fast. And that means breaking and entering. Unless this key proves useful, in which case it just means entering."

Camille stands up with purpose. "I'm ready to go!" she declares.

You laugh. "This is way too dangerous to take you along." Her face falls. "Doubly so, because for you, dangerous also means debilitatingly arousing. And as enjoyable as that is for me, I'm not keen on getting caught literally with my pants down."

"But I'll be so worried, waiting here all alone. What if you get caught?"

You hold up your badge. "I'm a cop, we're supposed to snoop around."

"Are you supposed to dispose of dead bodies too?"

"Don't be snarky, it's unbecoming of such a fine young lady."

She huffs. "Can't you at least take me home first? I need a change of clothes."

You sigh. "That's a bad idea. We don't know if these guys know where you live, but since they've managed to find you twice already, we have to assume they do."

"But what if Marcus left something there? Some clue that could help you?" You pause, and Camille spots your hesitance and pounces. "You can't risk going back to the station to look at evidence now, James. We would be careful, we would sneak in and out!" Her excitement is mounting. "They'd never know we were there!" She sees your skeptical look and immediately calms down. "I'll be good," she finishes with an innocent smile.

You shake your head. "This is a bad idea," you repeat.

As you approach Camille's house, you slow the car, looking for anything suspicious.

"You should probably duck your head down in case anybody's watching."

"Yes sir, Mr. Bigshot Detective!" She giggles and lays her head on your leg.

"And don't get any ideas while you're down there!" you scold her.

"Too late," she says suggestively, already stroking you through your pants.

After passing the house in several directions, a task made considerably more difficult by Camille's squeezing hand, you are surprised to find nothing.

You park a block away and lead her through adjacent gardens to the back of the house. She unlocks the back door. "Stay here while I check the house."

She scoffs. "You're not leaving me out here alone. I'm staying with you." You examine her briefly. Her breathing is a bit heavy, but she seems to be in control.

"Alright, stay behind me, and stay away from the windows." You keep your gun out until you've thoroughly checked every room and convinced yourself the house is empty.

You look out the front window. There is no movement outside except an old lady walking her dog. You frown. "Strange, I would've thought somebody would at least be..." Suddenly a car appears. "Get down!" you hiss, crouching and peeking up over the edge of the windowsill.

The car drives past very slowly, and the man in the passenger seat seems to be examining the house closely. The car speeds up as it drives away.

"That's smart, they want to keep an eye on the place, but they don't want to look suspicious sitting outside all... hey, you said you would be good!" Camille is crouched behind you, her hand between her legs, her hips rocking back and forth.

She whips her hand out. "Sorry!" She looks surprised, as if she hadn't even realized where her hand was. "Oh, and I was doing so well up until then." She bites her lip in frustration. "James, can't we just..."

You smile. "Sorry, dollface, no time. I've got to look for clues and then we've got to split."

"Alright." She looks dejected. "You can start in Marcus's study, and I'll just... take a quick shower."

You laugh and smack her backside playfully as she walks away. "You could have done that at the hotel," you call after her. "Like I need any more temptation," you add under your breath.

You've seen the homes of people obsessed with conspiracies before, and they're always a chaotic mess. Marcus Rosemont's study, however, is quite tidy, with very little in it of interest. Maybe Camille is right, you think, and her husband was just a bore.

You quickly go through the desk drawers and the cabinet, but find nothing that could be related to Mandrill. Remembering what Camille said about the hidden jacket pocket, you look around the room for anything that could house a secret compartment.

You are about to give up and check the rest of the house when you hear Camille calling your name from the bathroom.

She is still in the shower. "What's wrong?" you ask from the doorway.

"Oh, James." She sounds apologetic and a bit quavery. She sticks her head out from behind the shower curtain with a rueful look. "I'm so sorry, I thought I was okay, and then the soapy water felt so nice on my body..."

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. This would all be easier if you didn't very much want to jump in the shower with her. "Can't it wait?"

"I already fingered myself and it didn't help, I need you," Camille pouts. She pulls back the curtain to reveal her naked body, rivulets of water cascading down over her bare skin. You stare, knowing you should look away, knowing she knows you can't.

"How am I supposed to be alert for danger in the shower?" you complain, but your resolve is already flagging.

"I'll be quick, I swear." She turns around and spreads her legs, displaying her beautiful butt. She looks back over her shoulder. "I'm all wet," she says, her voice low and throaty. "And I don't mean from the shower."

You shake your head, knowing she has you. "You're a crazy broad, and you will be the death of me."

She smiles lasciviously, wiggling her ass at you. "Your mouth says no, but your cock says yes." You look down to see the clearly visible bulge in your pants. You sigh again and start stripping off your clothes. "Yay!" Camille claps her hands.

You step into the shower and pull her into your arms for a deep kiss. She stands on her tiptoes to rub her mound on your dick as it lays trapped between your bodies. Her soapy tits rub across your chest, making you even harder.

Camille breaks the kiss, practically panting with lust. "No time for love, James" she says, turning around and showing you her butt again. "Just hurry up and put it in me."

Breathless, you push forward, probing between her firm cheeks. As promised, she is very wet, and you slide up her slick tunnel with little resistance. The shower echoes with a moan from both of you.

Camille arches her back and presses her hips back into you, trying to get you in as deep as possible. You gasp at her tight embrace, the wonderful smooth squeeze of her velvety walls.

You pump your cock slowly in and out, feeling her ass with both hands, enjoying the slippery feeling of the water running across her skin. Camille is already fingering herself again. "God, James! You feel so good in my pussy!" she moans.

You speed up your strokes and cup your hands around her soft breasts, squeezing gently. She throws her head back and moans louder. With her free hand she pushes your fingertips to her nipple. You pinch both nipples and her squeal of delight fills the shower. "Oh, yes!" she cries out. "I'm almost there, fuck me harder!"

You dutifully grab her hips and start pounding your cock into her. Every time your stiff prick fills her up completely, Camille clamps down on it, dizzying you with intense sensation. You struggle against your impending orgasm.

"Ah! Ah! Ah!" Camille gasps, each thrust seeming to force an almost strident call of pleasure from her throat. Water splashes everywhere as your bodies collide. You feel her incredible pussy constrict around your cock in a powerful wave, and she lets out one long moaning cry of passion.

This is far too much to bear, and you immediately join her, burying yourself in her as deeply as you can while the cum pours out of you, flooding into her willing body.

You collapse back against the wall of the shower, your knees weak. Camille falls into your arms, grabbing onto you tightly for support. You hold her warm, wet body for a few minutes, feeling her heart beating.

You look down at her blissful face. "I don't know if I'll end up dead or in prison after all this, but what a way to go."

"Wasn't it wonderful?" she asks dreamily. "Every time I'm surprised how good it is." She frowns. "Oh no, what if they do kill us? What a tragedy it would be to die right after learning how much fun sex is!"

You suddenly feel very protective. You look into her beautiful brown eyes. "I promise I won't let them hurt you, Camille." She smiles and hugs you tightly. "Speaking of, I should finish searching the house and let you get dressed."

"Mmm," she complains, hugging you even tighter.

"C'mon," you laugh, "we've wasted enough time already."

She pulls away with a feigned look of hurt. "Oh, so my pussy's a waste of time, is it?"

"Darling, if we get out of this, I'll be spending all day and all night in there."

Your search of the rest of the house is just as fruitless as your search of the study was. You are just about out of ideas when Camille walks in. "Wow," is all you can say.

"You like?" she asks, twirling around. She is wearing a simple light blue dress, with thin shoulder straps and impressive decolletage. Of course, her earrings, handbag and shoes all match the color. You are amused the shoes have much lower heels than her previous ones.

"Oh, Detective," she calls as you continue to stare. "If you're looking for your jaw, it's on the floor."

"I think the idea is to not attract attention."

"Oh, I know, this is really more evening wear, but I feel like a new woman!" She licks her lips and traces a finger down the neckline of the dress, between her breasts, giggling as you gawk. She kisses you, then asks "Find anything?"

"No, although I should probably look at his shoes, just in case." Camille leads you to the closet.

You are examining the first pair when she says "Wait, where are the black ones?"

This rings a faint bell, as you try to remember something you hadn't consciously noticed at the time. It takes a few moments to realize what you missed. "Shiny? Wingtips?" She nods. "They're under his desk."

She looks puzzled. "In his study? He never left them in there."

Back in the study, you feel inside the black shoes. Sure enough, one of them has a lump under the insole. Pulling it out, you reveal another silver key, larger than the first.

"What do you think these keys are for, James?" Camille asks, leaning distractingly against you in her low-cut dress.

"My guess is Marcus and Dean worked together to steal them from one of the companies in the article, and they were going to go back at night to look for incriminating evidence. When they realized they were being followed, they split up the keys and hid them. Dean didn't even have time to properly tie his..."

You stop as the realization hits you. "That's how Marcus knew my name! He was still there, hiding somewhere close by, and he heard O'Brien shout my name as he was coming up the hill."

"Unfortunately," you continue, "I don't have time to wait until night. C'mon, I'll take you back to the hotel."

You make it back to the hotel unmolested. Camille gives you a long sensual kiss at the door. "Please be careful, James. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you."