Rex Harrison PI

With that, she hung up.

Rex could ponder that only momentarily and was interrupted by the stirring of Deborah.

"Is everything...ok?" she asked, scowling.

"Yeah, fine," he fibbed.

"I...I...want to thank you," she said. "I can't pay you or anything. I don't have anything. The earrings and choker look expensive, but I had them appraised. They're paste. The cheap bastard didn't even give me real ones," the gold digger sobbed.

Rex didn't feel sorry for her. The bitch had gotten in with a tough crowd. She knew it was a tough crowd and played along.

"Don't worry," he said, dismissing it and flopping down in the easy chair by the bed.

"I could maybe do something...nice for you?" she cooed.

His expression without words said, "What does that mean?"

Encouraged by his silence, she slid off the bed and kneeled in front of him, placing her hands gently on each knee. Hesitating only a moment, she gently separated his knees, leaning into him, using her body to block any way for him to bring them together again.

Rex knew what she was planning. He knew he should resist, but it had been a long time..., and.

Nestled between his legs, she expertly unbuckled his belt, button, and zipper. Rex began to pant as she grasped his waistband, her perfume wafting to his nostrils and enflaming his reluctant lust. She hesitated and looked into his eyes. He almost imperceptively raised his buttocks, and the broad worked his pants and briefs to mid-thigh. His cock was only semi-erect, and she took it deftly in her right hand and quickly and expertly brought it to attention.

"You have a nice cock," she complimented, looking him in the eye.

His need was written all over his face like sentences in a filthy book. She smiled a cat-like sly smile. One that under other circumstances he would have rejected, but now?

A drop of precum oozed from and formed on the tip. Deborah licked it off and kissed the head of his dick.

"Mm, tasty," she murmured as his cock twitched involuntarily.

Her ruby-red lips encompassed just the tip of his cut cock, and she sucked on the sensitive head. Fireworks erupted in his head as he moaned and involuntarily arched, closing his eyes. Another strong suck tore a groan from his throat as he instinctively thrust his butt forward. This buried half his cock in her mouth as she caressed his balls. Pinching hard with her lips, she slipped his cock almost out and sucked the tip again. Rex almost came right out of the chair.

"Been a while, huh?" she asked knowingly.

With that, her head began to bob up and down. With each stroke, she took more and more of his cock, until he felt it touch the back of her throat. Then the most amazing thing happened. When his cock hit the back of her throat, she swallowed it. He couldn't believe the sensations as his cock fucked her tight throat. The broad didn't even gag, for fuck's sake. He had had blowjobs before, but he had never experienced this. The feeling was electric as his cock disappeared in her mouth until her nose pressed against his abdomen. At this point, he couldn't help himself and groped her tits, she shifted slightly to help him, and he finally got them out of her dress and bra. He molested her nipples to hard nubs, and now she moaned. Her head bobbed lustily up and down, and erotic sensations coursed through his body. He threw his head back, eyes closed, and groaned.

"I'm gonna blow," he cried out, doing the polite thing and giving her notice.

He expected her to take his cock out of her mouth, but instead, she grasped him and held him fast. All the muscles in his perineum contracted, as well as his cock and balls. He could feel the stream of cum shoot up his rod as he threw stream after stream of hot jizz into her mouth. She fielded it all like a Yankee shortstop, not losing a drop. Deborah looked him in the eye, the puddle of cum easily visible in her slightly open mouth, and she swallowed, smiling. Holy fuck, he had never seen that before.

Smiling like the Cheshire cat and cocking her head coquettishly, she said, "Mm, good.

He didn't know whether this was the most erotic thing he had ever seen or whether he should be disgusted. She then sucked on the tip and massaged his cock, milking him several times from base to tip as her lipstick left his cock a dull red color.

"We want to get it all," she said flirtatiously.

Having drained his balls, she stood, displaying her magnificent tits in full glory. They were large cones with only a bit of sag, smooth and pale with large pink areolas. Her nipples were hard and enormous. He had never seen nipples that long, and they seemingly begged to be sucked. She did not attempt to hide them, and he stared lustfully at them.

"That was nice," she said, her steely, cold confidence returning.

With that, she turned around and put the girls back in their cage while he put his Johnson back into his pants.

Most of the time, when it came to meals, he ate out, but when he ate in, Rex usually opened a can of hash and ate it over the sink. Luckily he had shopped just a few days earlier, and his cupboard wasn't bare for a change. He still didn't have much, but he made breakfast of eggs, bacon, hash, and toast. Deborah was amenable to the fare and ate like a bird.

His sick mind thought, "Well, she did eat earlier," and he chuckled out loud.

"What's funny?" Deborah inquired.

"Oh, nothing," he replied, waving her off.

She listened to the radio after complaining loudly he didn't have one of those new televisions. Six channels and a price tag of over two hundred bucks. Fuck, it would be a long time before he wasted his money on that shit. He read a book, an Ellery Queen novel Cat of Many Tails.

They hadn't gone to her place for obvious reasons, so all she had was the clothes on her back.

"I've got to rinse out my undies. Can I borrow a shirt to sleep in?" she asked.

"Yeah, sure, take whatever you need," he said, pointing to his small closet and set of drawers.

She picked out a tank top undershirt ten sizes too big for her, took his box of laundry detergent that he had forgotten he had, and disappeared into the bathroom. Like his remembered experiences of his sister in his youth, it seemed she was in the bathroom forever. By the sounds, he could tell she also took a shower. After, what seemed an interminable amount of time, she reappeared dressed only in the tank top undershirt. The fucking thing was so big that the arm holes indecently exhibited plenty of side boob, it was so low cut in the front it almost displayed her tits, and the tank top only came to mid-thigh.

"Thank you," she said, bounding to him with her tits bouncing erotically and almost popping out.

The nubs of her nipples poked erotically at the thin tank top material, her areolas, and the triangular patch of hair at her crotch were more than shadows through the nearly translucent cloth. His cock immediately hardened as she embraced, full frontally, and planted a kiss on Rex's startled lips. He didn't open them, and with her arms around his neck, she threw her head back and laughed. Staring at him with lips parted, she again attacked his mouth with her luscious red lips, and he clutched her thrusting his tongue into her eager mouth. He explored her mouth, and clasping her butt tightly, he straightened and lifted her off her feet. She squealed in delight and grasped him fervently, rubbing her magnificent tits on his chest and wrapping her legs around him. They were both in danger, he knew what kind of bimbo she was, and he knew he should resist.

Rex walked to the bed and set her on it on her knees. She looked at him lustfully, red spreading from her cheeks to her neck and breasts. He stripped off his shirts. Whining, in lustful need, the gold digger rose and clutched him. She rubbed her tits on him, freeing them from the confines of his tank top, and her erect nipples painted a picture of wanton lust on his chest. Losing all control, he stripped her of the garment and latched onto one of those delicious, long nipples. She wailed and clutched his head hard on it, the sensations tearing moans from her throat.

"Oh, Rex," she squealed as he kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his pants and briefs.

Again, he embraced her, his tongue deep in her willing mouth and his spare hand groping those delicious tits of hers. Finally, his hand slipped down her side, over her hip to her pussy. Finding the object of his search, he rubbed the already engorged clit, as she tried to pull away from the overpowering sensations. He held her fast, and she gasped, hanging on for dear life.

"Oh, I've wanted you since the moment I saw you, Rex," she wailed as his finger tortured her with unbearable sensations. "Oh fuck," she screeched as she went over the edge. Her body shook and convulsed as he held her tight, tormenting her pussy with his finger until she squealed, "Stop, Please, it's too much."

Rex, hardcore and all, snickered and relented. Once she caught her breath, she attacked him again fervently.

"Oh my god, that was wonderful," she breathed, showering him with kisses.

With that, he laid her down and crawled in beside her face to face on their sides. He took her hand and moved it to his rock-hard cock, and she smiled lustfully and stroked it. They embraced, and he found her pussy renewing his attack on her clit. She arched and sighed in approval, increasing her stroking of his dick, and soon he had her whining in need again.

"Please," she whimpered.

He rolled her on her back, and she shamelessly spread her legs inviting him to take her.

"I don't have any rubber safes," he confessed.

"I don't care," she breathed.

Crawling between her legs, he rubbed his cock several times up and down her badly leaking slit. She groaned and arched wantonly into it, spearing her cunt with the tip that ripped a moan from her throat. Determined now, he settled down slowly, encasing his cock in her sloppy wet, and white-hot pussy. Her eyes opened wide as the sensation of his manhood entering her drove her to wanton overload. She arched hard, shifting to allow deeper penetration, and shamelessly wrapped her legs around him, clutching him close.

He began to stroke slowly and in long strokes, retreating until his cock was almost out to burying it balls deep. As the bimbo responded, his strokes became faster and faster until he was pounding her, the old bed springs screeching their displeasure. The slap, slap sound of an intense fuck filled the air, and her perfume enticed him to heights of effort approaching superhuman. She was wailing and keening in loud, high-pitched squeals meeting his every stroke with equal intensity. Passion inflamed them both as they wrestled and struggled, their bodies entwined until Deborah buried her head in his chest, muffling her scream. Her body reacted as though enduring a convulsion. She lost control of her hands and arms, left flopping spastically. Her legs trembled and slipped off his back, splayed indecently wide. Her convulsive arching elicited only unintelligible animal noises as she rode out an orgasm for the record books. As she lay there panting, Rex grunted and pulled his cock out, trapping the shaft on her pussy and spraying ropes of cum on her belly and tits, draining his balls a second time. He pitched off to the side to lay beside her again, panting. After some time, he rolled off the bed and padded to the bathroom.

When he returned, still naked on the bed covered in cum she murmured sexily, "Come to bed, Rex."

Rex looked at her, tempted for sure, but said, "I have to stand guard. Get cleaned up and something on."

He dressed as she, pouting, got up and padded off to the bathroom, eventually returning and donning the tank top t-shirt. She kissed him, climbed into the bed, pulled up the covers, and soon

was asleep. After turning out the lights, Rex settled into the overstuffed chair. He checked his weapon, loaded one into the chamber, and arranged his pistol and holster for easy draw. The smell of gun oil reminded him of the countless nights he stood guard and hoped for a good outcome. Before long, he drifted off to sleep.

>>>>>

His eyes popped open, and he was fully awake. Holding his breath, he listened. All he heard was the rhythmic breathing of the gold digger. The natural selection of the battlefield had taught him to rely on more than just his physical senses. Silently, his hand on the pistol in his holster, he went to the window. Peering carefully down the fire escape, he saw the telltale movements of someone climbing, trying to be quiet. Stepping back, he turned and padded to the door. He looked through the peephole and saw nothing. Still unsatisfied, he opened the small closet and stepped in. He had installed an additional peephole device in the coat closet. It went through the wall into the hallway, hidden by the molding. The device, aimed down the hall to a mirror, gave him a full view of the hall.

"Shit," he whispered as it revealed two cops, one on each side of the door, their service 38s drawn.

He retreated into the room, silently drawing his 45. Deborah's tits were out of the tank top, illuminated by the street lights, the hem around her waist, and her pussy displayed gleaming in the subdued light. He placed his left hand firmly over the broad's mouth. Her eyes flew open in terror, grasped his hand, and struggled to pull it away. Rex had a firm grip on her and heard only muffled squeaks. He raised his gun using the barrel as a finger, instructing her to be quiet.

Sheer terror filled her eyes, and an almost silent whimper escaped her throat as he whispered, "Get under the bed."

She dutifully slid under the bed, her back to him in the fetal position, butt exposed, trembling, and unconcerned with her nakedness. He moved to the wall with the light switch for the single overhead light and positioned himself to see the window and door with minimal movement of his eyes. He had lamps that he preferred to use and rarely used the overhead light. The shadow on the curtains from the fire escape told him it wasn't a cop. At least none of the cops he knew wore fedoras on the job. He watched intently, pistol in his right hand at his side, not aimed yet because it wasn't the time, and his left at the light switch.

The telltale gentle swishing sound of a switchblade opening announced the next act in the play. His answer was to flick the safety off. A scratching sound at the window indicated the shadow was slipping the blade between the panes to defeat the lock. Rex remained cold as ice and hard as steel. If this were the war all three would be dead Nazis by now. But this was civilian life, and as much as every fiber of his body fought it, he had to follow the rules.

The scrapping sounds stopped, replaced by the telltale sounds of the window pane raised as quietly as possible. Rex raised his weapon to about hip level, pointing but not aiming it at the window, his finger still safely indexed. Suddenly a leg entered between the curtains stepping down silently to the floor. Rex took careful aim and, for the first time, put his finger on the trigger. A hand holding a gun followed, then an arm, shoulders, and head. The shadow's head, still down, clearing the window, Rex squinted his eyes to little slits so as not to be overcome by the light and flicked the switch. The startled gunman's look was panic. Rex had seen this expression on many Nazis he had ambushed. The shadow's weapon pointed at the floor, told Rex the gunman was an amateur. In that split second of hesitation, Rex confirmed he was armed and not a police officer. The familiar report of his 45 caused the gold digger to start screaming. Rex knew where he hit the man, four inches below the dimple at the bottom of his throat and two inches left of the center line. Dead nuts in his ventricles. The gunman fell back against the window, slumping dead to the floor, his left leg out the window.

Rex now flicked the light off, his eyes still accustomed to the dark, and squatted down, taking hard aim at the door. A foot crashed into the door, splintering the casing and causing the door to fly open. The first cop advanced into the darkened room, and with just three steps into the room, the investigator's 45 spoke death again. The lead cop was struck in the chest slightly higher than the gunman. Nevertheless, he dropped just as dead. Although discretion is the better part of valor, the second cop, too far into the room for retreat, saw his accomplice drop and fired three rounds wildly into the room. Rex's 45 spoke again with the same result.

"Are you all right?" he bellowed to the terrified screaming woman. Realizing she was too scared to answer, Rex yanked the half-naked trollop from under the bed, shredding the tank top and reducing it to a rag hanging off her that hid nothing. Checking her quickly, satisfied she was unhurt, he jumped up, stepped over the bodies of the cops, and raced down the hallway to the stairs.

Approaching softly, he heard someone say, "Ralph is everything ok?"

Just then, the cop saw him and fired missing Rex. His 45 returned fire striking the cop in the shoulder, spinning him, and causing him to fall down the steps, to the landing, in a heap against the wall. Rex leaped up and closed the distance on the wounded cop kicking the dropped revolver down the other flight. The cop stared at him defiantly.

"How the fuck did you know where she was?" Rex bellowed, enraged.

The cop sneered at him, so Rex punched him in his wound.

The cop squealed, and Rex demanded again, "How did you know where she was?"

"Fuck you," the cop snapped.

Rex was getting sick of this shit, so with his 45 in the man's chest, he dug his finger into the cop's wound and kept digging at it as the man screamed.

"How the fuck did you know where she was?" he said with steely unforgiving eyes through clenched teeth.

The man screamed and soon realized the pain would not stop until he talked.

"Your secretary," he yelped.

"Helen?" Rex replied, stunned.

"Yeah, Calabrese had her grabbed," he managed to say through the pain.

"Do they still have her?" Rex bellowed.

"Yeah, I guess," the cop moaned.

"Where?" Rex screamed.

"At Calabrese's warehouse on ninth," he said, collapsing as Rex withdrew his finger and leaned back. Panting, the cop stupidly laughed and said, "That honey pot is probably dead by now."

Rex's 45 spoke death again.

He raced up the stairs to find a couple of his neighbors in the hall looking at the dead cops.

"Get back in your apartments," he commanded, and all scurried back like cockroaches caught in the light, locking their doors.

Racing into his apartment, he found the virtually naked gold digger weeping and still standing terrified in the middle of the room.

"What the fuck are you doing? Put that dress on. We gotta go now," he screamed.

This caused her to wail loudly in despair, but she pulled the dress on, and he grabbed her, dragging her through the door. He went as fast as he could get her to go and almost had to carry her past the dead cop on the landing as she went into a screaming fit. Eventually, they got to his car, and he stuffed her in the back seat.

"Get down and stay down," he commanded as he fired up the engine, shifted into first, popped the clutch, and stepped on the gas.

He went balls to the wall. As far as Rex was concerned, traffic lights, signs, and traffic were irrelevant. He recklessly blew through lights and signs at top speed. Even though it was the middle of the night, New York never sleeps, so there is always traffic. He didn't care if he picked up a cop one actually might be helpful where he was going. Unfortunately, he didn't.

He knew exactly where he was going, and arriving, he put both feet on the brakes, coming to a skidding halt, the engine stalling.

"Stay in the fucking car," he bellowed as he exited and slammed the door.