The Dame Who Wasn't

"You're amazing," I managed to croak.

"I know, now sit back and relax. I've got something special for you!"

"All right," I gulped. I suspected what was coming next. My first sight of a transsexual cock. Ten minutes before I wouldn't have batted an eyelash. She'd had me so turned on, but now that urgency had faded. Even my cock had deflated and lay wet against my thigh. It would be a while before he'd muster the energy for another go around!

"I just knew you were game when I met you!' she patted my thigh and turned away from me. I was just admiring her backside when she began to shimmy. Her curvy body swayed this way and that like snake hypnotizing its prey before a lethal strike. Her dress fell to her feet in a crimson puddle. Her bra came next, followed by her panties. She had the most perfect, round, plump ass I'd ever seen. I reahced out and slapped a cheek with either hand, making her squeal.

"You've got one hell of a cabouse!" I squeezed her cheeks, feeling the powerful muscles beneath the soft skin.

"My front side is even better," she spun on her heels. Her big, thick girly dick nearly slapped me in the face as she moved. I prided myself on my big cock, but she put me to shame, even half-hard as she was. The monstrous shaft drooped over a smooth pair of lime-sized balls, sagging under its own weight. The shaft was smooth and golden tan, and tipped with a rather angry looking squarish purple head. The only hair I could see was a little patch of black just above her cock, perched like a neat little mustache. It took me a full minute to look away and notice her big, round, breasts. She was young, and they were firm and topped with long brown nipples. She was something else all right, more woman than most, and more man too.

"You ain't kiddin', lady!" Now I'd never sucked a dick before in my life. Even before I'd dropped out of college, I'd never been one of those guys to 'experiment'. I don't know if it was her blow job, all the rye whisky, or just how fucking sexy she was that did it. No matter, I just nodded at her and opened up like cheap slut.

"That's a good boy!" she sighed as my lips closed over her tip. She stiffened immediately, and looking down the length of her, I realized she had a good three inches on me! Trust me to take one walk on the wild side and end up with a girl with a ten inch cock! I started to suck. She felt good in my mouth, and tasted even better. I could smell her womanly perfume with a faint undercurrent of manly musk. Her cock was smooth, almost rubbery, but with a core of steel under it. I slobbered over her cock, and felt my own hard on return with a vengeance. There must be something to giving blow jobs, because sucking her dick made me mad with lust.

"You're doing great! Now relax your throat!" she urged. Her fingers ran through my thick, dark hair. It was such a comforting feeling that I just went ahead and did what she asked. I crouched on the bed, my whole body tense as I ogled her curvy body towering over me. It had been a long time since I'd bedded a woman half as good-looking. I was so worked up I didn't even gag when she pushed her monster into my throat.

I wanted to reach back and jerk myself as she steadily worked her big organ deeper and deeper. I was barely holding myself up to keep my head in position, though, and had to keep both hands on the mattress. My cock would have to wait. It seemed somehow proper, though. It was her turn, after all. I sucked harder, slurping and licking at her delicious cock. It took forever for my growling throat to manage all of her, but when I did, she went nuts.

"Oh, fuck, you're so good at this!" she squealed in delight. My naughty little angel swayed on her high heels and began to move faster. I love a woman who keeps her heels on in bed, but they were as rare as an honest politician. Perhaps that as something to be said for transsexuals, too. I swashed my tongue side to side and hollowed my cheeks as I sucked. She started slamming my face, and I finally did start to gag a little. It didn't slow her down though, not one little bit. I didn't want her to, either. I made fists in the sheets and did my best to hang on and keep breathing.

In no time she was fucking my face like a well-oiled machine. My throat grew raw, and I wouldn't have been surprised if the heat set my damn neck on fire. She went on and on too. With her big tits swaying above me and a wicked grin on her face, she was more devil now than angel. I loved every long, drawn out minute of it.

"Shit! Take it!" she cried at last. Just in time too. Her stamina was fucking killing me. She stabbed her cock deep and ground her massive balls into my chin as she pumped what felt like a gallon of hot, sticky goo straight down into my stomach.

I moaned and ate it up like I was starving for it. It leaked all over the place. Tangy and salty and sweet all at the same time. It was as if I couldn't get enough! When I'd sucked every drop and left her big tool drooping between her thighs, I decided I'd waited long enough.

"Whoa, Mister!" she giggled when I pulled her onto the bed and flung her down beside me onto her lovely backside. After a brief pause to ask if she had any lube, my seven-inch throbber was slicked up and ready to go.

"I'm gonna enjoy this!" I grinned. I pulled her lovely stems over my shoulders and just went to town. I figured a girl like her was no virgin, and I was right. My cock nuzzled under her huge balls, then found her tight pucker. I gave a firm push with my hips and slipped right in. Her ass was so tight and rubbery, I nearly lost it right then. I'm not the most polite guy even at the best of times, but with that tight transsexual ass choking my cock, I unleashed a stream of vulgarity that could have made a longshoreman blush.

"Yeah, that's it you big stud! Fuck me!" she cheered me on from below. Her big tits wobbled as she lay back and took it like a champ. Hard as I fucked her, she just kept smiling away with her over-sized cock wagging up between us. I won't say I won any medals for endurance, but I gave it everything I had, and after thrashing her curvy body for half the night, I blew deep in her guts while she stroked her big dick to a sloppy cum all over our bellies. The size of her load coating our bodies shocked me a little. Had I really swallowed that much cum before?

By the time she drifted off to sleep, my throat felt as numb and stretched as a ten dollar-hooker's and my cock couldn't have gotten hard if my life had depended on it. I pulled myself away from her gently snoring form and made a quick retreat home. I needed to get some sleep before calling Miss Davenport in the morning. I had a lot to report, but I wasn't sure just how many details I'd share with the pretty little blonde. Admitting you'd sucked your first dick wasn't the kind of thing most women liked to hear. It was clear, though, that Linda Loving was in no way devoted to my client. I had all night to ponder how to break the bad news.

* * *

It was ten in the morning before I finally woke up and mustered enough energy to call my client. I sat nude on the corner of my bed with my phone stuck to my ear and the entire blue man group working on their new drum masterpiece inside my head. The acrid smoke of my first cigarette burned going down, but I drew it deeper.

"Mister Crane?" my little blonde employer's voice asked sweetly on the other end. I smiled even wider. She'd been a bit of a bitch that first meeting, but she did have a sweet voice.

"Good Morning, Miss Davenport. I found your girl last night." It was hard not to sound smug when you accomplished your goal so quickly.

"Oh excellent work! I have to admit, I had my doubts," she giggled a little.

"Never judge a book by its cover, Miss Davenport!" I chuckled. I'd learned that lesson well myself, and recently. "I know some people in the business. Led me right to her after a bit of leg work," I explained.

"Good, good."

"So, she works at a dive called Club Sedino, way out past the suburbs. I can give you her current phone number and address too. I'm not sure she'll want to hear from you though. I got the impression that, well, that she's over you, I'm sorry to say." I winced a little, hoping she wouldn't ask how I knew that. Or that the news wouldn't hurt her too badly.

"Actually," she paused. "I'm afraid I haven't been entirely honest with you, Mister Crane."

"You should really call me Joe, now that you're coming clean. I know she's transgendered, and works as a female impersonator," I said.

"You're really surprising, Mister- I mean Joe," she laughed again, nervously.

"That's what all the dames say," I grinned into the telephone.

"Well, I'd like you to make contact with her. I suspect you're her type," I could almost hear the pretty little rich lady blushing at the other end of her line.

"Why is that?" I asked carefully.

"She always told me she preferred men," she said in a rush.

"No, I mean why should I contact her again? It was pretty clear last night that she'd gone back to chasing guys." I added the last bit quickly. I wasn't quite ready to divulge the details.

"She can start dating goats for all I care. She's blackmailing me, Joe. I stand to inherit all of my great uncle's money in six months when my trust fund matures. But my uncle Stephen was an old-fashioned man. The details of my life would invalidate the fund. If she exposes me, I'm out eight million dollars," she explained it all in a breathless rush.

"Well, I'll be damned," I scratched my chin. I really did need to shave. "What does she have on you?"

"She recorded many of our... sessions. She keeps them on her computer. If you could delete them..." she trailed off.

"Normally I'd suggest going to the police. Blackmail is illegal, after all. Eight million is a lot of money, though. So I get where you're coming from."

"Please, Joe? I know it's asking a lot, but if you can somehow seduce her and either steal her computer or delete her hard drive, I'll pay you much more than two-fifty a day!" she sounded desperate. As well she might. One fling with a rather naughty transsexual and her life and her future could be ruined.

"Don't worry about the pay, Miss Davenport. You'll pay me my standard rates and not a penny more," I assured her. "And I already got her phone number remember? You were right, I do seem to be her type."

"She always said she liked tall, dark and handsome men," my client giggled again. "You aren't scared because she's, uh, you know?"

"Sure. But you only live once, Miss Davenport," I chuckled. "I'll take care of it tonight, if she'll see me. I'll call you as soon as it's over."

"Thank you so much, Joe, and please, call me Allison."

"You got it, Allison. Talk to you tomorrow!"

I took my time that morning. A long hot shower. A big breakfast of bacon and eggs. Three steaming black cups of coffee. Hell, I even shaved. It made me look younger, and as always I wondered why I didn't do it more often. Lazy I guess.

Around noon I finally gave Linda a call. The phone rang seven times before she answered, her voice gravelly with sleep.

"Sorry to wake you, sugar. It's me, Joe," I could be as cheerful as the next guy, when I wanted to be.

"Oh, hey, sexy," she purred into the line. My cock responded to her voice, coming to attention in my dark trousers.

"I kind of would like to see you again. The sooner the better."

"I like a man who knows what he wants."

"And what I want is you. Last night was just the beginning, Linda," I was laying it on thick, but in my experience, it never hurt to let a girl think she had you wrapped around her finger. Linda Loving may not have been born a girl, but I figured the same rules still applied.

"Aww, sweetie, I'm working again tonight." She made a little whimpering noise when she said that. It gave me chills.

"When does your set start?"

"Let me see," she fumbled around. "Seven, but I have to be in the club by five. Cecil the boss man likes us to warm up and eat dinner with his crew first."

"Not much time this afternoon then, when do you get off?"

"I'll finish my second set by ten."

"I'll pick you up. Have a big dinner. You'll need your strength for tonight!" I warned her.

"Sweet talker! I'll see you then!" she said. She smacked her lips in an exaggerated kiss before hanging up. The case was shaping up pretty well. For once I felt good about my prospects. But I had hours to kill before young, treacherous Linda Loving left her apartment empty and went to work. On a whim I called up Allison Davenport again, to see if she wanted lunch.

Turns out she had quite an appetite. I made a rule never to get involved with clients, but as I walked out the door to meet the pretty little blonde, I wondered what could go wrong if I broke the rules just this once?

* * *

A three-martini lunch with a beautiful blonde was just what the doctor had ordered. She was a lot friendlier the second time around, but every bit as cute. I'd had a whale of a time with Linda, and had learned a lot about myself, but Allison made me feel as straight as ever once again. Lunch and drinks with Allison Davenport had been delightful. She'd dropped the spoiled rich girl act. Turns out she wasn't some stuck up trust fund bitch after all. She designed shoes and handbags, and made a decent living doing it. I'd wanted to end the little date with a kiss, but instead I let her pay the bill and beat a wise retreat. Solve the case first, get the girl second.

I arrived in front of Linda Loving's apartment just a few minutes past five. Her blue hatchback was nowhere to be seen, so I let myself up the stairs to her front door. I suppose I could have felt guilty about breaking into a gorgeous transwoman's apartment, especially since she'd shown me such a great time the night before.

"This one's for Allison," I said as I pulled out my lockpicking tools. As hot and fun as Linda was, she was blackmailing a sweet young woman. The lock held its secrets tightly, but I teased them out after only a minute or two. I flipped on the lights and made my way directly to her laptop. She left it sitting out on her kitchen table. I thought about what password she might use while it started up, but luckily, she hadn't set one.

A quick search of her files revealed a folder called "Allie". Sure enough there were several video clips. I couldn't resist watching one of them. The quality was poor. The lighting almost as bad. But they showed three things quite clearly: Allison Davenport's face, Linda Loving giving it hard to the petite blonde, and a third, more revealing secret.

"Well well," I could only stare at the video, watching the whole, long scene fully play out. It was nearly over before I got a hold of myself.

"None of my business," I said. I opened up her browser. I noticed Linda used an Android phone, and typed gmail into the address bar. She was one of those people who had her computer remember her ID and password. She was beautiful and a talented singer, but not the brightest dame after all. Once in her email inbox I noticed an older message she'd sent to herself. The videos were there as attachments. I deleted them too.

I looked around her neat little pad a bit more. She had a flash drive in her sock drawer. She'd kept copies of the video there too, and I had a feeling that that was the last of it. I closed the computer down and kept the flash drive. Allison might like it as a souvenier, or maybe just to know that I'd done my job.

I was all set to leave when the door opened. I froze in the middle of the kitchen. Linda slipped inside. A black sequined mini-dress clung so tight to her curves, it looked like you'd need scissors to cut her out of it.

"Joe Crane, in my kitchen. What a surprise." Her voice was as dead as her eyes.

"Hello, doll. I was just hoping to catch you at home," I figured I'd try my smile on her. It had worked on her the night before after all.

"Cut the shit," she pulled a small automatic from her purse and leveled it my navel. My body clenched so hard I thought the muscles would burst. There's nothing quite like the feeling of having a loaded gun pointed at you.

"Let's not do anything crazy, babe," I lifted my hands to show her how little a threat I was.

"Crazy? Like breaking and entering?" she sneered down the barrel of her little gun.

"Try blackmail. It's a felony in this state, you know," I reminded her.

"That little blonde cunt hired you, didn't she?"

"She's not a cunt," I shrugged. "And what's a girl supposed to do when a psycho ex puts the squeeze on her?"

"She's supposed to pay me two million dollars and count her blessings I let her keep the other six she's got coming!" she jabbed me in the belly with her gun. It hurt, but I tried not to show it.

"You make a good point," I cringed. I don't cringe nearly as well as I smile, but it was good enough. She took the bait and stepped even closer. Certain types loved having power over people. They couldn't help but gloat. I let her get even closer, too close.

"Hey!" she yelped when I reversed motion and pulled her cute little twenty-five from her fingers. She tried to snatch it back, but I shoved her back against the sink hard enough to make her grunt.

"Now you listen here," I scolded her. I put the gun into my jacket to keep the flash drive company. "I erased your files, from your email too. And yes, I found your flash drive. Somehow I doubt this little piece is registered. Even if you do have back ups I didn't find, the police will get both if you try to shake down my client again."

"I could ruin her!" the singer wailed. She was still pretty, but the entitled look on her face made her seem almost ugly.

"You do and it's prison for you. Men's prison. Think about that!"

"I should have killed you when I saw your licsence in your wallet!" she spat. "Private fucking detective! What a joke!"

"Yeah, yeah. Too bad the joke is on you," I turned to make my exit. She hissed and stomped her foot hard enough to snap off the heel of her shoe. I almost felt sorry for her, almost. I closed the door and left her behind. When a girl pulled a gun on you, almost wasn't good enough. Not by a long shot.

* * *

The Davenport house seemed a hell of a lot more inviting the second time I visited it. It could have been the full moon. It could have been the warm yellow light spilling out on to the lawn to cheer up a cold Spring evening. It could have been those things, but it wasn't. It was the cute little blonde who jumped into my arms as soon as she opened the door.

"You got it! Oh thank you so much, Joe!" she cried happily. As short and slight as she was, she couldn't have weighed more than ninety pounds. I gave her a little twirl before I set her down in her tiled entry hall.

"I got her files. I got her gun. I don't think she's dumb enough to try to blackmail you again. If she does, well, she'll being going away for a long time." I'd seen things on Linda's hard drive, I tried to reconcile what I saw with what I knew. Allison Davenport was pretty, more than pretty, and utterly feminine. It wasn't just her white silk blouse, black pencil skirt, or black pumps that made her look that way. Her hands, her arms, her face and neck, everything about her was delicate, petite and as far from masculine as you could imagine.

"What are you smiling at?" she arched an eyebrow at me. Her lithe body grew tense in my arms. I let her go.

"You. You're a very pretty young lady, Miss Davenport."

"I thought I told you to call me Allison," she frowned. Her lips pressed together into a thin line, just like they'd been when I met her the first time. I liked them better looking plump and kissable.

"Well, I hope you won't find this too great a breach of privacy, but I had to make sure I had the right files," I said as gently and carefully as I could. She blushed to her toenails.