The Slutty Detective

I began to bounce up and down and gave him some appreciative moans. I was pulling out all the stops. It was not hard to do because he felt wonderful inside me. The moans became real as he moved around inside me, screwing me and continuously letting his cock touch my clitoris as we fucked in a sitting position.

Vadim rose still with me impaled on his cock and I wrapped my legs around him. My blinds were up and he stood in front of one of my windows fucking me where my neighbors could see us doing it. I blushed red and said, "Please Vadim. Stay inside me but walk us to the bedroom. Please?"

Vadim kept fucking me in the window until he was sure that at least one of my neighbors saw us fucking. He then walked me to the bedroom, where the blinds were down. He lay me on my back, always with his cock still inside me. He caressed my boobs while we fucked. At one point as his muscular body loomed over me he kissed my lips while thrusting into me with huge force. I loved it. Even though this was our first fuck I was getting close.

Vadim pulled out, left me, and raised the blinds. Before I could protest he was back inside me, pumping away. My arousal began to build when he rolled us over with me on top. "Sit up," he ordered. The way he said 'sit up' was so ferocious, so masculine, so commanding that it brooked no dissent. I actually got scared.

I wonder if fear and arousal are linked? In any event being ordered to sit up like that, with an implicit threat behind it conveyed simply by tone of voice, and perhaps with being exposed to the neighbors while in the most intimate act of copulation, all combined to turn me on to such an extent that I climaxed. I screamed when I came, which is not normal for me, but this orgasm was unusual and my entire body shook.

Vadim's reaction to my rather spectacular show was simply to smile and to keep right on pumping away inside me. Shortly after, however, his balls made a donation deep inside my vaginal canal that probably was bigger than any of his donations to charity. He did not strike me as a charitable man so much as a sexist who liked to embarrass and shame his women. I did not mind if it led to sex like the sex we had just enjoyed, I can tell you that.

I collapsed on top of him after he had blown his load, and since he is much taller than I am he kissed the top of my head. He then scooched me up his sexy body so that he could kiss my boobs. He drifted off to sleep, but I needed him awake and drunk so that he would go into a deeper sleep, one where the man is hard to wake.

I had thought about dissolving some Ambien in his vodka and rejected that idea, but now it seemed like a good one. I got off Vadim and took my naked body into the kitchen. As I passed a window I saw a few neighbor men staring at me, all agog, disbelieving at the show I was putting on. I waved to them and disappeared into the kitchen.

I crushed an Ambien, then decided to crush two, and I tried to dissolve them into a shot of Beluga Gold Line Vodka. My shot glasses were each unique. I gave Vadim a New York shot glass, and I took a Yankees shot glass for myself. I shook Vadim awake and gave him his shot of Vodka. We toasted, with me saying, "Cheers!" and Vadim saying, "За твоё здоровье!" whatever that meant.

I had the bottle with me and we both drank again. Then again. I was getting thoroughly drunk, so I lay down on my back on the bed, placing Vadim's shot glass full of Vodka in my belly button. "No hands," I said. Vadim drank it down expertly, not even spilling a drop.

I raised my pelvis and placed the next full shot glass in my pussy. Half of the shot glass was inside me. Vadim chuckled and said, "June, you are an amazing woman. I wish my buddies could see me do this." He then tried to lift the glass with his teeth but only managed to push it further inside me. My pussy was in danger of swallowing up the glass. I began to giggle.

Vadim got his cell phone. "Take a video of my next attempt, will you my love?" he said. I said no. "Just for me. I won't show it to anyone." I laughed derisively. Then I thought about the videos of Boris and Marie-France having sex. They had been stolen along with the

Henry Graves watch.

"You can only show it in Russia. Agreed?" I said. Vadim agreed in a heartbeat with the broadest smile I had ever seen. I first shot a video of the shot glass full of vodka in my pussy. Next I shot Vadim's face with a ludicrous ear to ear smile, and then it was time for the action. Vadim moved the glass around in my pussy, spilling some of the vodka on me down there and some onto the bed, and then triumphantly removed it with his teeth, and drank it down. He never used his hands.

"Keep filming," he said. "I have to lick up all the spilled vodka. It's too good to waste. Potatoes died for the sin of making this delicious vodka." Vadim then began to lick up all the vodka. He ended up eating me out. I began to groan but managed to keep the film rolling. Vadim poured vodka onto my boobs, and he licked all the way up my body, with me filming the action. Suddenly I knew my face would be in the film. Oh well, I thought. He'll show it only in Russia.

As Vadim was licking the vodka off my boobs, I noticed he was again hard. I said, "Fuck me now you bastard."

I did not need to ask twice, and Vadim entered me deeply in one swift motion, filling me up. I sighed as he entered me. I needed this since I was simply too, too aroused. I glanced at my neighbors and someone had rigged up a telephoto lens to an SLR camera and was photographing the action. His film was not going to be limited to a Russian release. Shit, shit, shit. Bizarrely that realization raised my arousal to the breaking point, and again I had an early climax.

After the second wonderful fuck, I gave Vadim a loving blowjob until he was once again hard, and we had a third fuck. This time he took me doggie style and the neighbors were still filming us going at it. He grabbed my boobs hanging below and bouncing around as we roughly fucked. He began to slap my ass, too. I was groaning and moaning loudly. He ended up adding yet another load of his cum inside me. I must have been amazingly sloppy down there.

Twenty minutes later I was giving him a blowjob, but this time to save my sore pussy I decided to blow him to completion. I could have given him a deep throat, but I decided just to give him a damn good blowjob. Vadim was happy, especially when I swallowed. Truth be told, he did not have a lot of spunk left to give so it was easy to swallow his entire load.

Finally all the vodka, all the sex, and the two Ambien did their magic and Vadim passed out. I waited until he was in a deep sleep. I put down the blinds, waving to my coterie of new fans, and delicately removed the Henry Graves watch from his wrist, replacing it with the new Timex watch I had bought. Its time was perfectly accurate, of course. I hid the Henry Graves watch.

I climbed into bed to sleep beside him. I did not trust him, so I went to my secret box and removed my handcuffs. I cuffed him to the iron frame of my queen-sized bed. I thought back to the times Jack had done exactly that to me, ravishing me in my helpless state. He loved to do that As I recalled it I realized that in retrospect I too had loved it. Vadim would get a surprise when he woke. I fell asleep blissfully, thoroughly sexually sated, and relaxed.

Vadim had a hangover from hell the next morning. I ignored his complaints and gave him a morning romp in the bed with his hands still cuffed. I released him so he could use the toilet. Afterwards he took me out for breakfast. At his request I did not wear a bra and wore a partially unbuttoned blouse giving random men as well as Vadim himself great views down my blouse of my boobs. To my surprise this bit of exhibitionism also turned me on.

I told him I had to go to work, and we parted. He wanted a third date that very night. He told me he could bring a friend. I told him no thanks, now realizing just how much of a slut he thought I must be that I would be happy to have two men at a time. Well, why shouldn't he think I was a wanton slut? What I had done to discourage such an idea, anyway?

I remembered he was wearing the stolen watch of a murdered man and might be the assassin himself, if it was not his father. I asked Marie-France to drop by my apartment. When she did later, I gave her the watch, happy to be rid of it. At her request I escorted her to her bank and she placed it in her safe deposit box.

"Do you want to sleep with Boris before he returns to Moscow?" she asked me.

"No thanks. Is he going to return soon? His son was more than enough for me" I said.

"Do you want his son to return?" Marie-France asked.

"It's not my decision," I said.

Three days later I read in the paper how the Russian oligarch Boris Lysenkovich died in mid-journey on the flight to Moscow. According to the paper he had suffered a heart attack. He was survived by his wife Katerina and his son Vadim. For some reason he had been very upset over his son's Timex watch and doctors thought his raised blood pressure might have triggered the heart attack. I always feel bad when people die, but I nevertheless giggled as I read the story.

I did not know how Marie-France arranged it, or even if she did, but I had to admit that if she had arranged his death at 35,000 feet while she was in New York, then she had style. I never mentioned it to her, nor did she to me, but one day she asked me over to view a movie she had found. "Did you take this?" she asked.

I watched the film. "Yes," I replied. "I took it with Vadim's cell phone."

"What brand was the vodka?"

"Beluga Gold Line. It's Vadim's favorite," I said.

"It sure is," Vadim said as he emerged from Marie-France's bedroom, stark naked with a raging hard on. He was carrying a vodka bottle. "Want some?" Vadim said.

I looked at Marie-France. "I thought you might like a replay. Vadim is taking the long flight back to Moscow tomorrow. You two had such a good time, I wanted to share him."

Vadim and I re-enacted the video, and I had some quite pleasurable sex. Marie-France sat in a chair and watched, which I felt was perverse. The sex turned rough. I became embarrassed to reveal my perverted pleasure with rough sex to Marie-France. After he rammed his cock home inside me the final time, he looked at his watch. It was the Timex.

"Great watch," Vadim said. "It always has the right time. We have enough time for another round. Marie-France, would you please open the blinds? June likes an audience."

He wanted me on top, sitting on him. I knew he wanted once again to show off his dominance of me to an unknown audience of voyeurs. In New York, if your blinds are open, there is always someone trying to look inside. I cooperated once again. I felt sleazy once again. I had an over the top orgasm once again.

In an amazing coincidence, Vadim too died of a heart attack on the airplane traveling to Moscow. This was too much of a coincidence and a police investigation was launched. Nothing was ever learned, but suspicion of course fell on Putin. Vadim surviving sister and mother went into hiding.

I discovered when Vadim died that I had really liked the man. He had been using me for sex and did not care about me, I knew, but dammit I had liked him. I missed him and wished he were still alive.

I never asked Marie-France if she killed the two men, and she never offered to tell me. If she had killed them both, she certainly did it with style.

Every year now on the anniversary of Vadim's death aboard that airplane I remember Vadim by taking out the Timex watch I bought in his memory, by lighting a candle, and by drinking several shots of vodka. I don't drink just any vodka, either. It has to be Beluga Gold Line or nothing at all.