Pixie Pt. 04 Ch. 07: Threesomes

All was quiet at the Sinn Detective Agency. They say that the Devil makes work for idle hands, and while I would not say that our hands were idle, there are those who would argue that they were about the Devil's work.

But the fact was that after that wonderful first session as a threesome, Pixie, Mel and I settled down very nicely indeed. It was clear that Pixie's submissive tendencies were taken care of in such an arrangement, and to my own surprise, I found that I knew what she wanted before she told me. Mel, who was an utter delight, simply took on a bossy role with Pixie, and treated her as though she was, at times, just an errant naughty girl. As this aroused all three of us, and as Mel and I loved making love, it became axiomatic that the 'Sinn Girls' were a threesome.

Miss Sinn, who was perfectly aware of what was going on, commented only as and when she felt the compulsion to. She was, as the rest of us were, still high on the success of our last case, and the Number 1 Lesbian Detective Agency was motoring.

But, being an observant creature, I noticed that Miss Sinn was retiring to her office with increasing frequency, declaring that she would do some online shopping. I had at first imagined groceries or maybe some clothing. But when she had then announced she was going out for coffee up past the Barbican Center, I was puzzled. None of us were invited, and it seemed a long way to go just for coffee.

But I had, on our last case, learnt enough about computer spying form Nerdy Ash to know how to get past her computer security and work out the reason why. It appeared Miss Sinn was an aficionado of the Women's Erotic Emporium, whose directions I discovered online included the instruction to enter via the coffee shop.

This aroused all our interest, and as her PA, Pixie asked several times whether she could 'be of assistance.' Miss Sinn told her to stop bugging her and just get on with the paper work. Pixie being Pixie followed Miss Sinn's instructions literally. Being an old fashioned girl, that meant hard copy, and so every morning she brought the Guardian to work and regaled Mel and I, with the manifold injustices inflicted upon the lesbian community in the UK. This had an unexpected by-product.

The Guardian actually led Miss Sinn to take Mel under her wing, so to speak. Pixie was, approvingly, quoting an article about the lack of gender and sexuality diversity in the police and security services, and insisting something should be done about it. She had brushed over the point the article made that the current head of the London Metropolitan Police was a lesbian.

Mel interrupted her in her full liberal flight, "I don't think you have thought this through baby."

"Why ever not," Pixie responded, looking puzzled at her liberal certainty being questioned.

"Well baby we are the Number 1 Lesbian detective agency," Mel pointed out.

"Indeed we are Mel. I am delighted that we have cum to be the market leader in Lesbian detective services," Miss Sinn added with considerable pride.

"Well," Mel continued, "It is simple retail. If the police and security services recruit additional fine lesbian officers, then they will solve our cases, and we will lose market share, baby."

The surprise on Pixie and my faces contrasted with the look of delight on Miss Sinn's face, and she happily added, "At last, someone who understands the lesbian business model, Mel darling we need to talk further,"

And with that Miss Sinn escorted Mel into her office and the door slammed shut. Whatever happened when the so called lesbian business model was discussed left Mel looking somewhat flustered when she emerged an hour later. But the smile on her face told its own story, as did the tell-tale red-cheeks. It was clear that Mel and Miss Sinn understood each other.

We discovered, however, that Pixie, for all her liberal sympathies, was a great Royalist. She excused herself by saying she fancied Kate Middleton something rotten. She said she had actually applied to be a Lady-in-Waiting, but had been unwilling to wait quite long enough, whatever that meant; she could be quite gnomic at times.

Thus it was, Guardian hidden, Pixie, Mel and I snuggled together on a couch in the Detective agency and watched the Royal Wedding. Miss Sinn didn't join us, insisting on braving the crowds and heading out for a coffee.

When she returned she was carrying a brown unidentifiable box that the suspicious amongst us, all right me then, deduced came from Women's Erotic Emporium

I couldn't help but ask, and she replied, "Just supplies for the weekend Annie. I have a date."

"Oh cool, which night?" Mel asked.

"All fucking weekend I hope, Mel darling," Miss Sinn replied.

"So why do you need supplies," Mel innocently added.

"She likes something a little bigger," Miss Sinn relied.

The thought of something bigger led the petite Pixie's eyes to water, but I couldn't restrain a giggle and an obviously puzzled Mel asked us both, "Whatever does that mean."

"Fucking large strappy for the fucking weekend, Mel," I replied stating what I though was pretty obvious.

However long Miss Sinn's date lasted that weekend, I think Mel, Pixie and I lasted longer. Since we had got together on the night we solved that last case, we had been inseparable in and out of the office. Pixie happily put both of us up at her house, and was happy to spend the day insisting we spend touristing so long as we spent the nights fucking. We were living in Sinn and quickly becoming aware something rather special was brewing between us.

Then on the Monday following the Royal Wedding, the Sinn world changed.

It was an inauspicious beginning though. Discarding her beloved Guardian, which ignored the Royal Wedding, for the Telegraph, Pixie was regaling us with pictures of the Royal Wedding, which we enjoyed reading about, and pictures of the Duchess of Cambridge, which Pixie was cutting out for her seventh scrapbook.

Mel and I smiled at each other; did she, we both wondered, realise how adorable she could be at times?

Then Pixie informed us of an even funnier article. Seems that everyone was so busy with the wedding that someone had managed to sneak into the National Gallery unobserved and lifted a painting off the wall.

"God who needs the UK police force," Pixie added, "It appears they have absolutely nothing to go on."

The words were no longer out of Pixie's mouth than the front door swung open and a woman entered the Agency. While I obviously didn't know who she was, it was clear that she was high up in the police as she was wearing the full regalia of a senior policeman, or more accurately policewoman.

But Pixie did clearly know who she was.

"Ah, Commissioner Dick," she stuttered, "welcome, shall I tell Miss Sinn you have entered?"

I couldn't stifle the giggle at the name Dick, which was totally infectious as Mel giggled too.

Commissioner Dick stared at us long and hard, which caused another round of giggles as I thought of the words hard and dick in the same sentence, and then she turned to Pixie, and ordered, "Miss Sinn, now."

And so Commissioner Dick was shown into Miss Sinn's office and the door was firmly closed as the lesbian head of the UK Police service spoke to the lesbian head of the Sinn detective agency.

Pixie first explained that our visitor was Cressida Dick the first lesbian head of the metropolitan police. Of course I found it hard to believe that a lesbian called Dick could be head of police, but a quick Google search confirmed that it was literally true.

And while I couldn't wipe the smile of my face at the humorous possibilities, Mel, Pixie and I spent the next half hour speculating as to what was going on inside Miss Sinn's office. I said it was "hard" to see what was going on, which made Mel collapse in giggles again.

But nothing that crossed our minds matched what would be the reality of Miss Sinn's first introduction to Dick.

Finally, after Miss Sinn's door opened, they both emerged, Miss Sinn somewhat flustered from whatever had occurred with Commissioner Dick.

And then after Commissioner Dick bade Miss Sinn goodbye, she walked past Pixie's desk as she headed for the front door. She smiled at us three and said, "Ah, Miss Annie, Miss Mel and Pixieslut. Have a good afternoon."

We all looked stunned and while we still recovering from the shock of her knowing our pet nick-names that we thought no-one knew, the head of the United Kingdom Police Force added, "One of the advantages of being Police Commissioner is that you can know everything about everyone."

She paused significantly and slyly added. "The Australian Federal Police tell me that your parents are well Annie, though your father is worried about impact this week's rain in Sydney is having on his spring vegetable garden."

Ms. Dick paused again letting the impact of those word settle before continuing, "And Mel the Royal Canadian Mounted Police tell me that your nieces are doing fine without you, except the older one has an early winter cold."

Having impressed on us colonials the wisdom of not expecting to keep secrets from her, she fixed Pixie with a knowing look and added, "I hope your recent separation from Sarah isn't weighing too heavily on you."

In the stunned silence of the Number 1 Lesbian Detective Agency, it was Miss Sinn who recovered her wits first, responding, "I think we have just found out what the saying an iron fist inside a velvet glove means, Commissioner."

Ms. Dick smiled, acknowledging the wisdom in Miss Sinn's remarks. and then looked me directly in the eye and added, "I am glad we all understand each other. But finally Annie should you ever feel the need to write, remember to limit yourself to two jokes about my name and try to make them original."

"Not like, Commissioner Dick cocks up and shafts another case, which cums to naught with the erection of penile evidence from turgid members of the public," I observed.

"God that was convoluted Annie. But yes not like that."

And with that the first lesbian leader of the United Kingdom Police Force was out the door, and shell shocked doesn't even begin to describe the feelings of the Sinn detectives.

"We have a case Ladies," Miss Sinn said after a while, "But I need to clear my head."

"Then we should have lunch first," Mel replied, "I saw is a lovely pub down by the Thames called the Swan's Neck."

Pixie looked really surprised at the choice of pub, but as no-one had a better idea the four of us went down to the river to find that the menu had an Olde England Elizabethan flavour to it.

"We will discuss how we progress the case after we have ordered," Miss Sinn stated and four pair of eyes descended to the menus.

"I think I will have the Merchant of Venison," Miss Sinn quickly concluded, bringing a look from Pixie and I at twee names used to describe the food.

"I will have the Much Ado About Nothing, it's the vegetarian special" Mel added.

And Pixie and I who frequently seemed to think alike decided on fish and ordered the Midsummer's Night's bream.

"Should we have beer or wine," Miss Sinn then asked.

Pixie and I locked eyes and while nothing was said we both knew it was game on.

"Beer maybe. Either King Bear, or perhaps a Winter's Ale," I said with a superior look and a giggle.

"I can top that," Pixie countered, and then she did, "Perhaps the Two Gentlemen of Corona,"

"Thanks to you two," Miss Sinn responded with an exasperated air, which it turned out was just an act, "Now is the Winter of my Discontent. So we will have a bottle of fucking Sauvignon Blanc, served Measure by Measure."

"That was very funny, Miss Sinn," Mel observed, obviously crawling up her arse, "Not like the Comedy of Errors from the other two."

Pixie and I exchanged looks, in part looks of surprise and in part a determination to put our heads together and out banter the other two.

But we were distracted from that challenge when Mel added, "I wonder what the first Queen Elizabeth would actually have eaten."

"She never married," Miss Sinn replied, "So I am guessing pussy."

A deep red blush covered Pixie's face which was a complete surprise, and I gazed at her wondering why the possibility that first Queen Elizabeth may have been a lesbian had embarrassed Pixie.

After our food was served, Miss Sinn said, "The case is about the missing painting, the police hate being a laughing stock and contrary to newspaper reports they do have one clue."

She extracted a photo from her hand bag and placed it on the table. It was a photo of two young women, obviously twins about twenty or so.

"Now," Miss Sinn continued, "These two were photographed loitering outside the National Gallery, seemingly just waiting. The police officially don't know who they are, but the Commissioner tells me their names are Nikita and Natasha, also known as Nik Nak."

"How does she know that?" Pixie asked.

"It was," Miss Sinn replied, "The first time I have ever seen a police commissioner blush, so the less said about that the better. The additional details I got was that these two are lesbians who like unusual play, in one case quite unusual. Nak seems to like to watch Tinkerbell movies and play with stuffed animals, usually when dressed in princess t-shirts and cute little knickers. And sometimes she has been known to involve escorts in her play."

"Oh," said Mel looking surprisingly interested.

"Yes," continued Miss Sinn, "I suspect that the embarrassment is because Ms Dick knows someone who has similar tastes."

"That isn't much to go on and why us," Pixie observed.

"Why us, is that the Commissioner wants to use unofficial channels. But there is one other thing, Commissioner Dick thinks that the twins have two older sisters. No confirmed evidence but she advised me to keep that in mind."

"So we need to find four sisters and work out whether the older two nicked the painting," I said summarising.

"Indeed Annie," Miss Sinn replied, "Ideas ladies. How do we find out more about these sisters?"

"Well," I said, "I could put out feelers to my friends in the escort trade."

"And I will get a deep dive into social media," Pixie added.

"And I could check out local littlies sites," Mel said slightly wistfully.

And having settled on a plan, while none of us needed pudding, we decided on a little Turkish Delight to end our meal. It was delicious, but Pixie's blush returned with a vengeance, when I innocently asked, "I wonder whether Queen Elizabeth the First actually ever had the delight of eating something that was sent from Turkey."

God knows why Pixie blushed again. But she was even cuter when she blushed, and Mel and I winked at each other.

Miss Sinn announced she had "business" to transact. We took a similar view, but decided to divert back to Pixie's place to rest after lunch.

"What was all that blushing about, Pixie?" I asked.

"Just that I have written a story about Elizabeth I and lesbianism," Pixie stammered.

Mel smiled.

"Well, little Pixie, I bet that made you wet writing it."

Pixie nodded, and Mel continued, "As it happens I am feeling wet, so what are you going to do about it?"

Pixie dropped to her knees.

Going behind Mel, I unzipped her dress, helping it down her slender frame. Unhooking her bra, I played with her wonderful full, firm breasts. Her nipples were already hard. Given that Pixie had already pushed her panties aside and begun to lick her cunt, this was not surprising.

"Good girl," Mel gasped, as she coped with the twin distractions of Pixie's tongue and my fingers. She pulled Pixie into her, using her pigtails to get proper purchase. Pixie was in seventh heaven, licking away. The slurping sound and the sight of her like that, made me wet. There was only one thing for it.

"Pixieslut, lick me too."

Mel and I sat next to each other, our dresses off, our panties down, and Pixie went between us, licking each of us in turn.

She was so responsive it was amazing. If I told her to lick Mel hard, she did, and she would do the same to me a second later, when that command came.

I leaned over to kiss Mel. She tasted good. Our tongues entwined as Pixie's tongue engaged with us both, lapping from one to the other. I felt Mel's nipples, and could not resist leaning in and sucking them - hard. The harder I sucked, the more Mel moaned. The more Mel moaned, the more Pixieslut sucked her.

"Oh fuck," Mel moaned, "fuck, such a good girl Pixie."

Pixie's tongue was deep in her cunt, and I could hear her sucking on Mel's clit. I felt amazingly horny. Mel, catching on, began to rub my cunt when Pixie was not licking it.

"Fuck," I heard myself say, as though from a distance, high on the twin sensations of Pixie's mouth and Mel's fingers.

Then it happened.

"I can't stop, fuck!" Mel screamed and, drenching Pixie's face, came, spraying her.

The sight of Pixie's face fripping with Mel's cunt cream set off my orgasm, as Mel skilfully fingered me to my own climax.

"Fuck, oh fucking fuck," I moaned loudly.

Somehow, Pixie managed to be there to catch my cunt juices, sucking them as I came.

Mel and I held on to one another, kissing, feeling elated and with our orgasms still rippling through us.

Pixie would need to change before returning to the office, our girl goo had coated not only her sweet face, but dripped onto her blouse, making it so transparent that we could see her titlets as well as her pokies. I pulled her up and kissed her, tasting myself and Mel. Mel did the same.

"We love our Pixieslut," I gasped.

"Yes, baby, we love you," Mel agreed, her voice shaking with passion.

We looked at each other.

"She is such a good girl," Mel averred. I agreed.

Pixie, her face wet but happy, looked at us both with a huge smile.

"I take it I am still not allowed to cum before Friday night?" she asked.

I nodded and Mel laughed.

"You know you like it that way, baby."

Pixie nodded and kissed Mel, then she kissed me.

"Now, Miss Annie, Miss Mel, your Pixieslut better clean herself up, as we have work to do."

And so we did.