Marlowe

By Waldo (mellin6695@aol.com)

If you're not an adult or interested in stories with strong 
sexual content, then don't read any further. All rights 
reserved by the Author.

This may be re-posted on the Internet on free sites such as 
Fictionmania, Sapphire's Place or other non-pay sites where stories
are distributed for free to the public. Just send me an e-mail 
telling me where you've posted it.  

****************************************************

Chapter 1 - The Client

My name is Marlowe. I'm a Private Dick but before you get your 
bowels all uptight, that just means that I'm a detective.

I'm not "that Philip Marlowe" although my business card just has 
the last name on it so that people subconsciously link me with that 
famous detective to get me some more work.  My first name is 
Darrel.  Now you see why I go by just my last name.  Darrel 
Marlowe doesn't have the same zip or image power that the name 
Philip Marlowe has.

My ex-wife says that I'm more of a dickhead than a Private Dick.  
She said in our last court hearing that there was nothing private 
about my dick at all. She said that I shared my dick with every 
sleazy two-bit whore in the many bars up and down Sunset Strip. 
That certainly wasn't true.  There were several bars that I wouldn't 
go into because of the clientele, several other bars that I was 
barred from just because of my rough and rambunctious younger 
days, and several two-bit whores that I somehow missed when I 
was going through that phase of my "we both know our marriage is 
over" stage.

I went into business for myself about four months ago. My 
experience to get my license was based upon my six glorious years 
on the LA Police Force's Homicide Squad. Would have stayed 
longer with them and eventually retired from the Police Force to 
someday manage a bar in Florida but toward the end of my 
shortened police career, there was a bit of trouble where it was 
widely rumored that I roughed up a suspect.  I didn't touch the 
bastard.  It just so happened that he accidentally fell and I just 
happened to have my fist balled up when he fell on my fist, 
resulting in his nose being broken while he was in my custody.  
They didn't buy my excuse that it was an accident because I 
claimed that he accidentally fell on my fist twice in a five second 
period. If he hadn't been the bratty nephew of some big-shot 
Senator, I would still be on the force. I argued at my hearing that if 
I had know at the time that it was going to cost me my job, he 
would have fallen a couple of hundred times.  The bastard was a 
real prick with no respect for the law or me.

I specialize in missing persons now. After all, the police force 
currently has a monopoly on being the only ones who can work on 
murder cases which doesn't leave too much else for those of us 
with no other skills. So it's a very narrow market and I have to 
work where there's some potential work.

Only work has been slow lately.  Very slow.  So slow that you can 
find me sitting at my desk almost every day waiting for some 
customer to call me. I usually sit in the dark and smoke cigarettes 
while I'm waiting. I sit in the dark because my deal with my 
landlord is that I also pay my electrical bill so because my client 
case load is low, I sit in the dark a lot.

I've had some cases since I opened my office. Six to be exact. So 
I've been gainfully employed by customers about three weeks out of 
the last four months. And my biggest case so far hasn't paid off 
because my missing person's lawyer is still doing the typical court 
delay tactic and I don't get paid until I testify in court.  It could be 
two years before I see that three thousand four hundred and 
seventeen dollars.

But that is the name of the game.  I knew it when I went into this 
business of being a Private Dick but I didn't have too much choice.  
After all, where else can a thirty-five year old burly ex-cop who was 
washed out of the police force on brutality charges go to make a 
living? So I specialize in Missing Persons but I won't turn down any 
case that pays me my expenses plus at least two-hundred-fifty a 
day. I would even look for a missing dog if the reward were high 
enough.

I'm good at what I do. Mainly that's because I'm very suspicious of 
everyone from my six years on the Homicide Squad.  I'm so 
suspicious that my ex-wife says that I'm also the most paranoid 
person that she ever met. I'm not sure yet if that was a compliment 
or a put-down.  You see in this business, you can't take anything 
for granted and have to be suspicious of everything and everyone 
until you've actually confirmed the facts.  Even the facts that your 
customer has provided you.  Customers always lie.  Customers are 
always very self-serving.

******

June 12th.

It was a hot day.  Every day is hot in Hollywood. I was sitting at my 
desk with my feet propped up on the desk and enjoying the slight 
breeze from the overhead fan.  I've got air conditioning in my office 
but seldom use it because the fan is much cheaper. My lights were 
turned off to conserve electricity as usual and the only light in the 
room was coming in through the drawn blinds from the outside 
noonday sun. I keep the blinds closed to keep the summer heat 
out and also so that the noisy neighbors across the street can't 
peek in at me.  There's another couple of Detective firms across the 
street and they enjoy looking at my office to see that I don't have 
any clients and that I am spending most of my time with my feet 
propped up on my desk.

I thought that I had found a customer that morning. While reading 
the newspaper, I saw where a man's wife had ran off with his best 
friend and dog.  Yeah, the best friend was fucking the old lady and 
the two lovers skipped town taking the hubby's dog with them. So I 
called the hubby to offer my services for a reduced fee just because 
"I didn't like to see anyone lose their pets". He didn't buy that 
phony attempt to drum up some business and told me that he was 
glad that the bitch was gone then hung up.  Don't know if he was 
talking about his wife or the dog.

Yep, it's slow.

Then I heard the elevator door open on my floor.  I share the floor 
with four other tenants but they use their office space more as a 
mail drop than as an active office environment so we get very little 
traffic on this floor.  I could hear the hard click of high heels 
echoing from the hallway corridor so I knew it was a woman and I 
was trying to estimate her height and weight by the sound of her 
footsteps.  Hey, if Sherlock Holmes can visualize that type of 
analysis, so can I.

I don't know why but I knew that the woman was probably a babe. 
After all, only a luscious babe would be wearing high heels at two 
p.m. on a hot June day in LA. Was she a blonde, brunette or 
redhead? She had to be going to Gerald's Accounting Service at the 
end of the hallway because he was the only one on this floor who 
ever got any visitors. I also deduced that if she was a client of 
Gerald's, then she didn't have any money and was probably a 
hooker. Gerald specializes in that sort of customer and every once 
in awhile, a really nice piece of ass walked down the hall.  Hey, I 
even know several of Gerald's clients either professionally from my 
old days on the Homicide Squad or from my days when I had a 
couple of bucks burning a hole in my pocket.

I had just decided that she was a blonde because almost every 
woman in LA is a blonde when her footsteps stopped just outside 
my door. Quietly easing my feet off of the desk and dropping to a 
more professional sitting-up straight position, I held my breath as I 
tried to figure out what she was doing.  Either she was reading my 
name on the door or she was lost and getting ready to call someone 
on her cell phone for directions.

Then I saw the door handle turn and the unlocked door opened.  I 
wished that I had the lights on at that moment so it didn't look as 
if I was sleeping.

Sleeping! That's it.  I'll pretend that I was about to take a quick 
nap because I was out following a suspect all night.  That 
particular excuse worked several times with my ex-wife.  
  
The bright lights in the corridor blasting into the office blinded me 
so that all I could see was her outline against the relatively bright 
hallway lights. That was barely enough light for me to tell that she 
was tall and built like a brick shithouse. But that was enough of a 
glimpse of her for Richard to decide that he liked her. That's what I 
call my partner between my legs.  Richard sounds better than dick 
or cock.  Women like it when you give personal names to your body 
parts.

Yeah, Richard liked what he saw.  Or rather liked what he couldn't 
see because it was only the outline of a tall woman with long legs, 
wide hips and long shoulder-length hair standing in the doorway.

When she timidly asked "Is anyone in there?" in a husky sexy voice 
that reminded me of that Lauren Bacall sexy woman character who 
stood in a doorway and asked for a match, I thought of several 
witty replies. Fortunately I didn't use them.

"Come in. I was out on a case all night and was just resting my 
eyes."

Leaping to my feet, I came around my desk and rushed to the open 
door as I tried to make out her features. Flipping on the light 
switch quickly illuminated my office and the front of my visitor so 
that I could see her without staring into the too bright light behind 
her.

Richard definitely liked what I was looking at. This was one 
luscious babe standing in my doorway. Being a Private Dick, I 
immediately memorized all of her features.

She was tall.  I'm five foot ten and her twinkling green eyes were an 
inch higher than my eyes but she also was standing in three-inch 
high heels so I guessed her to be about five foot eight or nine. The 
next thing that I noticed was the exposed cleavage and a set of 
man-made boobs that I guessed filled a 36 or 38 D bra. While her 
cleavage looked real, I'm an expert at determining if the boobs are 
real or fake.  Although they looked very real, I knew that they were 
fake ones that had been created by a skilled and expensive 
surgeon.

She was a blonde. Long silken curls in a full hairstyle that must 
take her an hour or two every day just to brush it into the way that 
it looked now. Her face was the next thing that I noticed. Twinkling 
green eyes with just enough makeup to call attention to her eyes 
but enough makeup to make the rest of her gorgeous face look very 
natural. Her perky slender nose and high cheek bones showed that 
she had an ethnic background which appeared to be Norwegian. 
Her perfect lips were the type of lush voluptuous lips that you see 
in lipstick advertisements where you just want to pretend that you 
will one day be able slide your Richard into lips as perfect as that.  
If my ex-wife had a pair of luscious lips like this babe's lips, I 
would still be married to the old woman. Naw, on second thought 
the main thing that I didn't like about my ex, was my wife's 
frequently too big mouth. 

I saw a woman in a movie recently that looked a lot like this babe.  
The actresses name was Nicole Kidman so I filed that fact in my 
mind. I also filed away that this woman's tits looked much greater 
than that actress's little boobs.

Still playing Sherlock, I decided that not only was this babe a very 
beautiful woman, but she also had a lot of money.  After all, how 
many women can afford to look the way that she looked. I knew 
that the realistic boobs were expensive and looking at her face, I 
quickly decided that she had probably had a little bit done to her 
face also. After all, a face as perfect as her face typically isn't 
natural. And she was dressed in an expensive china white cocktail 
dress that showed off her curvy figure in addition to showing off 
just the right amount of cleavage to be almost acceptable by most 
old church-going biddies. The expensive designer's white shoulder-
less dress made her tanned arms, upper chest and long slender 
legs look darker, as well as confirmed that she wasn't hiding a 
pistol under her clothes. The way that expensive designer dress 
hugged her body showed that she probably didn't have any panties 
on although there was just the barest tell-tale sign of a strapless 
lacy bra under the dress. While she looked soft and cuddy, her 
firm shoulders showed that she spent a lot of time swimming in 
the pool as well as spending time beside the pool to have such a 
nice tan.

Long dangling golden ear rings hung from each ear that I knew had 
to set some man back at least ten thousand and there was a 
delicate gold chain around her slender neck that probably cost 
more than my old car was currently worth. She was carrying a 
small white purse, one of those small hand purses that women 
take to cocktail parties that only had enough room for a credit 
card, a tampon, a pack of cigarettes and a house key.

Yeah, she looked to be in her middle twenties, about five foot eight, 
one hundred and forty portioned pounds of perfect womanhood.  
Richard was getting huge, heavy and hot as I checked her out.

"Are you Mister Marlowe?"

Her question startled me from my re-examination of her breasts. I 
glanced back up at her gleaming eyes as I mentally changed my 
previous evaluation to 38 small D or large C. 

"Uh yes, please come in.  Sorry I wasn't expecting any one and had 
just finished a case so I was resting my eyes for a few moments.  
One of the benefits of being your own boss is that you can take a 
nap when you feel like it."

I moved out of the doorway and she walked by me, leaving a trail of 
the most delightful delicate scent that caused Richard to leap to 
attention so hard that he almost slapped against my belly. I don't 
know what the name of the perfume was that she was wearing but 
I knew that it had to be expensive. I also noticed that her body 
when seen from the side was an almost perfect model's straight 
shape. And when seen from behind, well, let's just say that 
Richard almost did an unmentionable in my underwear. I'm a boob 
man but she had a perfect ass and her tight dress showed how 
shapely perfect her ass was.

I could only stand and watch as she moved by me and headed to 
the client's chair in front of my desk. As she sat down, I grimaced 
because I knew that there was probably dust on that chair from 
my lack of clients and she was going to get her impossibly white 
dress dirty from sitting on my chair.

Moving around the desk to my chair, I noticed that she was sitting 
on the edge of her chair and holding her back stiff while clutching 
the purse tightly in her long delicate fingernails. For the first time I 
noticed that her long fingernails had polish that matched her 
lipstick and I wondered if her toe nails also matched. I felt a silent 
inquiry from Richard as Richard was suggesting to me that I 
should look at her feet and maybe politely suck on her toes a little 
to get to know my visitor better but I ignored him.  Richard has 
frequently got me in trouble.

As I sat down in my chair, she spoke again in that type of husky 
bedroom voice that reminded me of the great female sexpots of 
movie fame. "Mister Marlow, my name is Tanya Browning. I hate to 
barge in on you without an appointment but I had to see someone 
today. I called the detective who is working on my case and he 
recommended you.  A Lieutenant Harrison."

Jeff Harrison. My frequent bar-hopping partner who I currently 
owed about three thousand dollars. He probably sent her to me to 
help me earn the money to pay him back.

"Yes, I've worked on few cases with Lieutenant Harrison."

Cases?  Yes, cases of beer. Jeff and I have drunk a lot of beer and 
chased a lot of women together.

"Mister Marlowe, I want you to find my missing husband for me."

I glanced down at her cleavage again then back up at her very 
attractive face. I suddenly suspected that she was lying to me.  A 
sane man wouldn't run away from a beautiful woman that looked 
as good as she looked.  Hell, most men would have to be driven 
away with a baseball bat.  Speaking of baseball bats, Richard was 
getting pretty heavy and large within my trousers. 

"How long has he been missing, Mrs. Browning?"

"A little over two years now."

I smelled something wrong. I've got a nose for trouble and when a 
beautiful woman says that her husband has been missing for over 
two years but she's just now seriously looking for him, there has to 
be more to the story. She was covering something up. Did I 
mention that I'm sometimes very paranoid and don't trust anyone?

********************************************



"Two years? It's very difficult to find people that are missing a few 
hours much less two years. Do you have any photographs of your 
husband?"

She opened her purse and pulled out a floppy disk. I glanced at my 
computer and wondered if I remembered how to work the damn 
thing. Holding out the disk as she leaned forward slightly, my eyes 
traveled from the disk held delicately between her fingertips, up 
her long slender arm to the top of her dress. Her slight forward 
lean caused the dress to expose a little more of the top of her right 
breast. Right then and there, I gave her right breast a name. 
Juanita. Yeah, I named it Juanita because Richard was screaming 
"I wanta eata" at the sight of that lush mound barely contained 
within that tight dress.

"My husband was a computer nerd and spent a lot of time prowling 
the Internet. When he left me, he destroyed all of my pictures of 
him.  It was only recently that I found these old photographs of 
him on a web site."

Rising out of my seat to walk around the desk to accept the disk 
from her, I discovered that Richard was causing my trousers to 
look like a tent and Richard was the tent pole. Turning toward the 
computer to hide the unusual shape within my trousers, I 
muttered a quick excuse that would explain why I was walking 
toward her in a sideways crab-like walk so that the front of my 
trousers was hidden from her view. "I'll turn my computer back on 
and let it warm up.  Would you like a cup of coffee?"

I was using the movement to keep the front of my trousers hidden 
from her. Flipping on the switch, I walked around my desk moving 
sideways as I went toward the coffee pot.

"Yes, that would be nice, Mister Marlowe. I like plenty of cream in 
my coffee."

I tried to ignore the electrical shock that seemed to burn a hole in 
my trousers because of the dual meaning of her request. Richard 
was screaming at me that he would put the cream in her coffee if I 
would just give him the chance to come out into the open.

Pouring us both of a cup, I felt that I was lucky that I had one 
clean cup, which I used for her coffee. Standing at the coffee pot, I 
glanced back at her and saw that she was still holding the floppy 
and was looking at it with a sad look on her face. While she was 
busy, I used the opportunity to shove Richard into a more invisible 
position where he was restrained by my belt. Carrying a cup of 
coffee back to her, I handed her the cup and accepted the disk 
from her.  Going back around my desk, I put the floppy into the 
drive slot as Richard screamed at me again "I want to put my 
floppy into her slot."

Ignoring the mental battle that I was having with my own body, I 
called up a program and looked at the files on the disk.  There 
were about thirty bitmapped image files.  Using my program, I 
called up the first one and was almost shocked at what I was 
seeing.  It was a slender naked young man wearing a woman's 
cheap black wig. Oh, yeah, he was running his hands up the side 
of his body as if he was feeling a woman's body. He was on a cheap 
flowered couch, the type of couch usually found in hotel rooms. 
This was her husband?

I didn't know what to say and was about to look at another image 
when she placed her coffee on my desk and moved around the 
desk so that she was standing behind my chair looking at the 
image over my shoulder.  That close, I could strongly smell her 
wonderful perfume.

"My husband was into kinky sex. No whips, chains or stuff like 
that.  I could've handled that and would have gladly participated 
with him if it had been something like that. He was a secret cross-
dresser when we married. I found out about it about two months 
after our wedding when I found a suitcase full of women's clothes 
and they weren't mine. He lied to me about whom they belonged to 
and why they were in our house. But I came home from the Beauty 
Parlor early one day and found him standing in front of a digital 
camera taking pictures of himself.  It hurt me to see him like that. 
He was wearing black stockings held up by a garter belt, a bra 
filled with falsies, a woman's long curly red wig and lipstick. The 
suitcase was open and one of the dresses was lying on the bed as if 
he had just taken it off. Because I caught him in the act, he 
couldn't lie about his fetish anymore so he told me the truth.  All 
his life he thought that he was a girl trapped in a man's body. He 
said that the only time that he felt natural was when he was 
dressed as a woman. He was taking the photographs of himself to 
send to someone on the Internet where he was having an e-mail 
type of relationship.  Look at the third photograph."

Staring at the man's photograph had caused Richard to go back to 
a more normal shrunken size. I gladly closed that photograph and 
called up the image that she suggested.

It showed a photograph of the same man. He was dressed in 
fishnet stockings, high heels, a short red dress that displayed most 
of his legs, and one of those cheap women's wigs that you can buy 
through mail order. His wrists had several of those cheap K-mart 
type bracelets and there were several gaudy rings on his fingers.  
Big hoop earrings dangled from each ear and his lips were thickly 
coated with bright red lipstick. 

Using my mouse, I zoomed in on his face and blew it up. Although 
it became very grainy when I did that, I was able to get a better 
understanding of his facial features. Although the cheap wig's 
dangling locks covered a lot of his face, I was able to see enough to 
know roughly what he looked like. He had a long straight nose, 
brown eyes and thick eyebrows that suggested that he had a 
strong Italian heritage. It wasn't a rugged he-man type of face, even 
with the big nose. More of an always-going-to-look-like-a-kid's 
slender face. 

"That's one of the photographs that he took that day. While it 
certainly doesn't look like the Greg Browning that I married, it's 
the best photograph of his face that I currently have.  He destroyed 
all the other photographs when he left me."

Using my mouse, I sent a copy of the screen to my printer. As my 
printer clicked alive, I felt an unexpected warmth near my right 
shoulder. She was leaning over to look at the monitor and her left 
breast was only about an inch away from my shoulder. Richard, 
who had been quiet for the last several seconds, screamed at me to 
spin in my chair so that I could accidentally bump her breast with 
my nose. It would be a cheap thrill but when you're divorced, 
horny and broke, you have to go for what you can get.

I ignored Richard because I didn't want to lose this case.  I needed 
the money and she definitely had money.

Her soft husky voice coming from barely over my shoulder caused 
Richard to rise to attention again. "Greg was a software genius. He 
created a program, which quickly made a fortune for us. When he 
left me, he left a paper on the table signing over all rights to the 
software to me as well as his share of our belongings so I'm now a 
multi-millionaire, thanks to him. Although I didn't understand his 
need to dress like that, I tolerated it because I loved him.  What I 
couldn't tolerate was some of his other actions.  Look at 
photograph five."

While calling up that image, my mind was whirling with all sorts of 
questions as I made assumptions.  I've got to get her to hire me to 
find her husband for her. Then I've got to spend at least one night 
in bed with her. Then I've got to get her to dump the husband and 
hook up with me. Once she was introduced to Richard, she was 
going to fall in love with me and forget about this creep forever. 
Yeah, I could go for having a rich beautiful girlfriend about now.

Then I saw photograph five.

Richard went from being a tent pole to being a wiggle worm 
immediately. It was a photograph of a man's ass with his pale 
white ass cheeks spread. The man was bent over with his ass in 
the air and his head turned to look back at the camera. He had on 
a cheap black wig that hid most of his face but I saw enough of his 
big nose to know it was her hubby.

"Greg wasn't satisfied with just occasionally dressing up and 
taking photographs of himself.  He liked to flirt so he took these 
photographs to see if he could find a boyfriend on the Internet. I 
suppose that he was trying to entice someone into sending him e-
mail.  Look at photograph eight."

If the trend of the photographs was going to continue to get worse, 
then I personally didn't want to look at photograph eight.  While 
I've dipped Richard into several women's anal openings over the 
years and greatly enjoyed it, seeing a man's wide-spread anal 
opening just didn't create the same erotic feelings for me.

Looking at photograph eight, I felt Richard turn from being a wiggly 
worm to being a very limp small noodle. The photograph showed 
her hubby lying on a bed wearing the same black wig, lipstick and 
pantyhose.  However he had an erection under the pantyhose that 
reached almost to his belly button. An erection so big and hard 
that Richard knew that he couldn't compete.

"Greg was very well endowed. That was one of the reasons that I 
fell in love with him.  I enjoy making love to a man with a big cock 
and Greg was able to consistently satisfy me."

Hearing her husky voice say the words "big cock" only a few inches 
behind my right shoulder caused Richard to leap to life again. Yes, 
her missing husband did have a big cock but my Richard was 
determined to be just as big and hard. And her husband was 
missing while I was here with Richard all ready to solve this 
beautiful client's very personal needs. I was about to risk turning 
in my chair slightly and to bump my shoulder against her very 
close breast when she moved closer to me and rubbed that 
magnificent breast against the back of my shoulder as she pointed 
at the monitor with her long fingernail. Yeah, she rubbed her boob 
against my back, which pleased Richard and also me. So what if 
there were several layers of clothing between her boob and my 
flesh. I felt something through those layers that I knew had to be 
her nipple. 

She used her fingernail to trace the outline of her husband's 
erection on the grainy photograph on my computer screen. Her 
voice was getting huskier as if the photograph of her missing 
husband's erection was causing her hormones to leap into high 
gear. Seeing her red fingernail trace the outline of her missing 
husband's erection on the monitor caused me to want to run out to 
buy a digital camera to take some naked photographs of myself to 
give her. Richard was screaming at me that the image was 
Memorex and that he was the live thing. 

"Greg could fuck all night.  I thought that I was the luckiest 
woman in the world until I saw this photograph and discovered 
that there were other things that turned him on even more than I 
could turn him on.  Look at that beautiful erection.  Even looking 
at it now under these circumstances is enough to cause me to feel 
all icky inside."

SHE FELT ALL ICKY INSIDE?

Lady, if I didn't need the money from this case, I would tell you 
exactly how I felt and then do my best to see if I could make you 
feel even more icky.

Richard was throbbing within my trousers. Throbbing so hard that 
I could feel it in my temple.  The throbbing was beating "fuck her, 
fuck her, fuck her, fuck her, fuck her" in a language that I clearly 
understood.   

"Sorry Mister Marlowe, I suppose that I shouldn't get so crud but I 
need to express to you how I feel. Although I was very confused 
when I found out about Greg's secret cross-dressing, I stayed with 
him because he could make me forget about his occasional little 
forays. When we were in bed, he was all man and he made me feel 
like the luckiest woman in the world. Every time that I would think 
about leaving him because I knew that he was doing something 
like taking these photographs or secretly corresponding with some 
of his buddies on the Internet, he would fuck me until I was so 
weak and mellow that I couldn't think straight. I'm a very sensual 
woman and need a lot of loving. Greg could give me that loving and 
most of the time we had a perfect marriage. Go to photograph nine 
please."

I turned my head slightly to glance down at that perfect breast that 
was still touching my shoulder and let my gaze drift up to those 
perfect lips that just said, "fuck me". I felt beads of perspiration 
beginning to form on my forehead and Richard was throbbing so 
hard that I was afraid that he was going to rupture. I could see the 
headlines now "Dead Man found with exploded dick."

It took a lot of self-control to turn my head back to the monitor and 
to call up photograph nine when I really wanted to jump to my feet, 
spin her around, bend her over my desk, jerk her dress up above 
her hips and show her that Richard could satisfy her just as much 
as her missing husband used to satisfy her.

Photograph nine shocked me. The camera had been moved closer 
so it was placed between the man's spread ankles and was a shot 
up his body so that you saw his erection, flat pasty-white chest 
under a red bra and his face which was still half hidden by the 
cheap wig. He was still wearing the pantyhose but there was cum 
all over the inside of the pantyhose.

It might have been my imagination but it seemed that her voice 
was even huskier. "Greg could produce an endless supply of cum. 
Sometimes when we were doing oral sex on each other, I would 
think that I was going to drown in what seemed like buckets of 
cum that he would squirt into my mouth. Just looking at that 
particular photograph makes me recall so many fond memories of 
lying in bed with him sucking on his cock and then how he would 
easily fill my mouth with his warm cum almost as fast as I could 
swallow it."

As she was saying those words, I started losing total control of 
Richard. It felt like Richard was an oilrig in my trousers the way 
that I jerked and shuddered from the gusher exploding within my 
trousers. I couldn't help myself. Without any physical help from me 
but just from the sound of her sweet voice describing her sex life 
with her missing husband, the combination of events caused 
Richard to explode.

I knew that she was aware that something was wrong with me 
because my hands were shaking, my lips were quivering and I was 
feeling a very warm liquid oozing down my belly within my trousers 
that Richard was discharging.  That hadn't happened to me since 
the tenth grade when Betty Lou what's-her-name flashed her tits 
at me and then let me smell her finger in Study Hall.

I felt her pull away from me and I bit my lip to try to regain control 
of my thinking process.  This was a client.  This was a client. Don't 
do anything to lose this fucking client. I want to fuck this client.

She moved around my desk and picked up my pack of cigarettes 
from the desk as she looked at me a Mona Lisa smirking type of 
mysterious smile as if she knew why I was acting so funny all of a 
sudden. Shaking one of the cigarettes out, she slipped it into her 
mouth while she looked at me as if she was trying to decide if she 
should try to push me a little further.  Knowing that I had to 
pretend that everything was normal with me as I felt that warm 
liquid within my trousers, I fumbled for the lighter and flicked it 
into a small flame. Holding the cigarette in very tightly pursed lips, 
she bent over my desk toward the lighter.  Her slender hands 
grabbed my still shaking wrist to hold the lighter's flame rigid as 
she guided the cigarette in her beautiful red lips toward the 
lighter's flame. I was staring down her open bodice at her tits 
hanging perfectly like two beautiful orbs. If I hadn't exploded forty 
seconds earlier, I would have done it then at the sight of those 
perfect tits.  So what if they were man-made. I'm a man and I 
wanted to leap onto those boobs.

Although there was a wet icky feeling within my trousers from the 
gusher, Richard was still just as hard as a rock.

Easing back into my client's chair, she leaned back in the chair, 
resting her arm on the chair arm as she held the cigarette high as 
if she was feeling very mellow herself. Her voice still sent cold chills 
down my backbone but she sounded more relaxed as if we were 
two old friends sitting around bull-shitting. "The other photographs 
are about the same. Greg showing his white ass sticking up in the 
air.  Greg showing his hard erection.  Greg wearing pantyhose. 
Greg wearing a bra. Greg dressed in a donated dress that he 
bought from the Salvation Army.  Close-up of Greg's lower face as 
he puts lipstick heavily on his lips. He took the photographs over 
two years ago while he was living with me. I just saw them for the 
first time when I found them last weekend on an Internet site 
mixed in with thousand's of photographs of other people similarly 
attired. You can keep that floppy. I've got several copies of them on 
my home PC."

She was leaning back in the chair but her nice ass was resting on 
the edge and her legs were spread wide offering a nice cheap thrill 
for Richard. I couldn't see all the way up her skirt to see if she did 
have any panties on but I could see enough of her creamy thighs to 
know that I had to have this woman. 

"I want you to find Greg for me.  I don't know where he's at or what 
he's doing.  But I suspect that he's still heavily into cross-dressing 
and is probably living with someone that he met through the 
Internet who liked his photographs.  Hell, it wouldn't surprise me 
to learn that he might be living as a woman now. I would hate to 
learn that he had that magnificent cock cut off but if that's what 
he wanted, then more power to him.  Will you take my case, Mister 
Marlowe?"  

Hell, I was thinking about paying her to let me take this case. With 
my current caseload, my current financial situation, and a client 
as beautiful as her, I wasn't about to turn her down.  No sir, this 
was a woman who needed help.  And Richard and I would love to 
help this poor little girl.

Shaking my head in an affirmative nod, I was surprised to hear the 
words come my lips as I upped my own fee because I knew that 
she could certainly afford me at my new rate. "Three fifty a day 
plus expenses. No guarantees. If I find him, what are you going to 
do?"

Leaning forward and snuffing out her half-smoked cigarette in my 
ashtray, her voice sounded deadly calm. "Although he treated me 
dirty by sneaking off and abandoning me the way that he did, I still 
love him very much and would give him another chance. I have a 
lot to talk to Greg about. I need to tell him about the many nights 
that I waited in our lonely big bed for him to come back home to 
my aching arms. I need to tell him that I still love him and would 
consider trying to do what it takes to make our marriage work 
again.  I need to tell him that I still don't understand his very 
strange needs but that he can do whatever he wants as long as he 
treats me the way that he used to treat me. I need to tell him that I 
need a good fucking and that if he doesn't scratch this strong itch 
burning deep inside my body, that I'm going to find someone else 
to do it for me.  Two years of being celibate has almost turned me 
into a virgin again."

The pounding in my temple was starting again. Richard's strong 
voice was screaming "take me, take me, take me, take me" over 
and over.

"Anyone that has been missing for two years might be difficult to 
find.  How long do you expect me to look for him?"

She opened her purse and removed a check that she laid on the 
desk. It was signed and the Pay-to field was left blank.  But it was 
made out for twenty thousand dollars. "Mister Marlowe, I expect to 
spend at least that much and more if necessary.  If you find him in 
a few hours, then the difference is your bonus.  If you haven't 
found him by the time that you've earned that, then I'll consider 
writing another check."

Rising to her feet as if she considered this interview to be finished, 
she pointed at my computer "On the floppy is a text file with the 
information that you'll need about Greg.  It also has my address 
and private phone number.  When you've found something, you'll 
know where to find me."

I found myself coming around the desk to escort her to the door.  I 
knew that Richard was still creating a tent in my trousers but I 
didn't care. After the short and very frank discussion with this 
prime example of horny and very beautiful woman-flesh, I wanted 
her to know what sort of effect that she had on me.

Taking one last glance at her perfect rounded breast outline, I 
mumbled "I'll be by to give you progress reports."

A smile formed on her beautiful lips.  A mischievous smile as if she 
had a joke to share with me. Her husky voice caused me to stare at 
her beautiful red lips as she uttered one last comment.  "Mister 
Marlowe, it looks like you have to be more careful. You spilled your 
coffee on your trousers."

Glancing down at my erection, I saw that my trousers were indeed 
wet. But I knew that she was aware that the wetness wasn't 
caused by coffee but by her effect upon my male libido.  This was 
one sexy woman and I was determined that I was going to spend 
some time in bed with her once this case was completed.

"Uh, yes.  I did spill some coffee."

Without waiting for me to be a gentleman, she opened my door.  
Standing in the doorway, she turned back to face me. Her pretty 
green eyes were gleaming as if she was reading my mind and 
knowing what I was thinking about doing to her. I was surprised 
when her hand clicked off the light switch, plunging my office back 
into relative darkness. Standing halfway in the hallway, she giggled 
"Why don't you resume that nap that you were taking when I 
barged in on you."

Then she pulled the door shut leaving me standing in the middle of 
the floor with a big damp erection in my trouser and me in the 
dark.

Grabbing Richard, I held him tightly wishing that I had an office 
with a bathroom at that moment.  Richard was still demanding 
relief and there wasn't a close-by place to easily clean-up the mess 
in my trousers at this moment.  She was one sexy babe and I knew 
that I was going to greatly enjoy this case. 

*****************************************


Chapter 2 - Digging for information

For the next two days, I kept my office door locked.  I didn't want 
anyone wandering into my office for a cup of coffee or something 
and catching a glimpse of any of the many images that I had to 
download from the Internet sites.

I never knew that there were so many photographs of men's asses 
or cocks in the world.  Being a one-hundred percent all-American 
red-blooded male, I knew that there were a lot of photographs of 
boobs and pussy out there on the Internet. But until I went looking 
at some of the reference points on the text file that my beautiful 
client left me, I never realized that there were so many people 
involved in that type of lifestyle.

I did discover that a lot of them had pushed the gender barrier so 
far as to create an almost new gender. Chicks with dicks. She-
males. Sluts with nuts. Some of them looked as natural feminine 
as any woman and Richard would began making mild comments to 
me until I would look at them below the waist, then Richard would 
shut up. 

Two days of prowling the Internet gave me some clues as to my 
new case.  I found Greg's photographs on three more sites other 
than the two sites that she provided me. I also found four other 
photographs of him that she didn't have. In one of them, he was 
lying on a sheet in the corner of some room with his mouth wide 
open as if he was going to suck a big cock. It wasn't that great of a 
photograph of his face because of the black wig covering most of 
his face.  But I knew it was he. And looking at the date of the file, I 
discovered that it was also two years old.  There weren't any recent 
photographs of him.  It was almost as if he had dropped out of 
sight.

Needless to say, Richard behaved himself during those two days. 
Not once did he rear his ugly little head as I prowled through all 
those Internet sites.  If I had known that I was going to have to 
look at so many photographs of men's asses and cocks, then I 
would have doubled my fee instead of just adding a hundred 
dollars to it. I used to say that there were some things that you 
couldn't pay me to do and now I was doing one of them because of 
my bank account.

It wasn't all "fun and games" for me during those two days. I used 
some of my sources to do the basic preliminary checks that 
typically provides most of the leads in this type of business. I 
checked police records, bank records, telephone company records, 
cable company records, electrical power company records, County 
Clerk records and any searchable database to see if Greg Browning 
had left any trail behind with either his name or social security 
number. I quickly discovered the old records of the actions done 
while he lived with Tanya prior to his disappearance but I didn't 
find anything new.  So I expanded my search nationwide which 
takes longer and also involved spending some fees but I didn't 
care.  I had a twenty-thousand dollar check in my savings account 
drawing interest, to spend as I saw fit.  I expected that I wouldn't 
earn all of that money so I had it drawing interest while I pulled 
out only what I needed to cover my basic expenses.

I did find several instances of the name Greg or Gregory Browning 
nationwide but was able to rule out each and every one of them 
because of their social security numbers. Then I initiated other 
checks which involved searching through various other account 
information that was available without getting a court order.

I also called my buddy Harrison and thanked him for sending me 
such a well-heeled and well-built client.  I could tell that he was 
smiling over the phone, knowing how I was probably reacting at 
having such a lush babe as a client. Harrison told me that it was a 
routine case so the police department wasn't doing anything more 
than treating it as a simple missing person case.  Since thousands 
of people disappear every year, the police doesn't usually do 
anything more than maintain records and do some cursory 
investigation to determine if it is a missing person or a potential 
homicide. When Tanya asked Harrison what else could be done to 
find her cross-dressing hubby, he suggested that she hire an 
investigator because they had already done everything that they 
were going to do unless they had evidence that a crime had been 
committed. So he gave her my card and then sat back to wait for 
my call. I thanked my buddy again and told him that I owed him a 
couple of beers for sending me this client but he reminded me of 
my overdue loan from him.  I told him as soon as I had earned the 
money from this case, that I would buy a case of beer and come 
pay him his money.

Overall it was a busy two days, which I detailed in my Client 
Report along with the expenses, so that my client would know 
what she was paying for and where I looked, along with the results 
of each look.   

*****

While looking for her missing husband, I also found out a lot of 
incidental information about my pretty client although I didn't go 
into any detailed searches looking for information about her. After 
all, I did know where to find her.

Besides being beautiful, Tanya was a very rich woman. She lived in 
a very ritzy neighborhood and belonged to all of the best clubs. She 
was also very smart because she managed her own stock portfolio 
and had increased her wealth several times over during the last 
couple of years according to her income tax records.  

But she was a woman of mystery. I found some references to where 
she went to school but when I went through the school yearbook 
for her graduating year of college, her photograph was blank. Greg 
was in the same class and his photograph was also blank.  They 
must have been out fucking the day the photographer was at the 
school. 

I was looking for photographs of Greg or her and Greg in social 
settings so that I didn't have to depend upon the lousy 
photographs obtained from the Internet. But they appeared to have 
led a quiet, non-descriptive life prior to his disappearance without 
any photographs made of them. Tanya Browning was currently 
very active on the social scene but she didn't become active until 
about two months after her husband's disappearance.  I found 
several recent photographs of her in various social publications 
where she was attending a party or serving as co-chairman of so-
and-so committed or something equally frivolous. There was even 
one photograph of her on a tennis court, wearing one of those 
white little tennis dresses as she presented a trophy to the winner 
of some tournament. Looking at that grainy newspaper photograph 
of her long legs, Richard came to life again.

She always paid her bills on time, she had an outstanding credit 
rating and she lived in a mansion. Well, considering that I live in a 
third floor walk-up apartment where my bedroom, kitchen and 
living room is the same room, anything else is a mansion. 

After my two solid days of hard work, I decided to pay her a visit to 
show her the new photographs that I had found of Greg on the web 
sites. Supposedly to see if there was anything else that she 
remembered since our one visit and also to see if what I had 
discovered so far would jog her memory. Also I wanted to see her 
again as well as to check her out within her environment. So I 
printed the new photographs and put them in a folder as well as 
details of my activities so far.

Driving out to her neighborhood, I was stopped at the entrance to 
her ritzy neighborhood by a rent-a-guard at the gate. From the way 
that he looked at my twelve-year-old rusting car and my Walmart 
every-day suit, I knew that he was going to turn me away.  Pulling 
out the cop's badge that I secretly held onto after my forced 
retirement, I used that to gain entrance through the gate.

Her home was built on a cliff overlooking the city. It had one of 
these big circular driveways. Her garage door was open and I saw 
an expensive Jaguar, a Caddy, a Jeep and a Harley motorcycle 
parked in the garage. Seeing the Harley created a mental image of 
her dressed in leather and sitting on that thing with its booming 
engine vibrating. Needless to say, I had to re-arrange Richard's 
tight position within my trousers before I climbed out of my old 
wreck.

I knocked on the door. After a minute of no-answer, I knocked 
again.  Still no answer.  I tried the door handle and it was locked. 
Stepping back a couple of feet and looking at the house, I saw that 
there was a gate in the fence that probably led into the back yard.  
Rationalizing that the worst thing that could happen would be that 
I would set off some burglar alarms, I decided to check out the 
back of her house while I was here.

As soon as I opened the gate, I observed a very big and long 
swimming pool with a tennis court adjacent to the pool. I also saw 
a very naked Tanya Browning lying on her belly on a cabana chair 
tanning her beautiful body. Started by unexpectedly walking in on 
her in an undressed situation, I started to be a gentleman and to 
ease out of her back yard. But Richard was making me walk slow 
back through the gate as I memorized every glorious detail of her 
tanned body.

"Mister Marlowe.  So nice of you to drop by.  Please come join me."

Glancing at her face, I saw from her amused eyes that she was 
looking at me and was aware that I had been caught staring at her 
totally nude body.

I felt like Columbo as I walked toward her. Like a dolt. Like an 
idiot. However Richard was making me feel like a horny dolt. But 
seeing as how she was unconcerned that her beautiful tanned ass 
was totally exposed to me, I marched straight toward her reclining 
body as if being around a naked woman didn't startle me. 

"Good morning.  I had some items to discuss with you and to give 
you some other photographs that I had discovered.  I came by to 
give you this progress report."

"Pardon me if I don't get up but I have a busy schedule for this 
afternoon and need to complete my tanning.  Would you be a dear 
and put some lotion on my back while we talk?"

I knew that if I had fallen into the nearby swimming pool at that 
moment that all of the water would have turned to steam because 
of a very hot piece of flesh between my legs. Richard was so hot 
that he was almost burning a brand into my belly.

"My pleasure."

Pouring the thick creamy-white lotion into my palm, I almost 
shuddered as I had hundreds of dirty thoughts about what that 
liquid looked like as I spread it on my palms. I kneeled down 
beside her prone body and gently touched her warm back with my 
cream covered hands.

I hadn't noticed the other day that she's a big girl.  Not big as if fat 
but big as in "not petite". Her wide shoulders were finely muscular 
as if she spent a lot of time swimming or playing tennis. But not so 
much muscle so that she looked totally unreal like one of those 
muscle bound girlie-boys in all the physical fitness magazines. Her 
tall proportional body reminded me of Xena's well-built Amazon 
body. No, this was one luscious babe whose tall body was very 
proportional all over. As I smeared the creamy white liquid onto 
her skin, I noticed that she didn't have a tan line anywhere. 
Glancing around at the surrounding hillside, I looked for a spot 
where I could come back some day with a pair of binoculars and 
check out the view of her neighborhood.  

"Um, your hands feel so good. Slap plenty of lotion onto my back 
because I'm so dry."

I can't help it if I've got a dirty mind.  I thought of something else 
that I wanted to slap on her back.  I thought of another creamy 
lotion that I wanted to deposit on her back.  I thought of another 
way to resolve her dry feeling.  I thought of something else that 
would make her feel good also.

And all of those thoughts involved Richard.

"Um, a little higher, please.  My shoulders need special attention."

Because I was kneeling beside her prone naked body, I was able to 
see the very pleasing outline of her mashed boob pressed tightly 
underneath her body against that chair. Think of a grapefruit 
mashed into the shape of an air-filled inner-tube and that's what 
that wonderful breast looked like.  If there is such a thing as 
reincarnation, I want to come back as either a dildo or a cabana 
chair. I don't know who her surgeon was but if I ever find out that 
doctor's name, I'm going to send him a Thank You card for this 
very special visual treat that would help me get through the many 
lonely nights of my divorce.

"I found four other photographs of Greg, which appear to be taken 
about the same time period. Nothing recent so far."

Her head was turned to face me and I couldn't help but see the 
gleam in her eye as she giggled. "If you found other photographs, 
that means that you've spent a lot of time looking at thousands of 
photographs of men's asses."

Glancing down at her naked twin tanned cheeks of rounded 
perfection I mumbled a quick reply. "Part of the job." What I really 
wanted to say was "may I stick Richard up your ass to help him 
recover from the personal torture that I've had to endure on this 
job?"

She lifted up slightly and moved her arms so that her face was 
resting on her wrists so that she placed her arms in a sort of "T" 
position. I've never won more than ten bucks on a lottery but I 
thought that I hit the jackpot when she suggested something that I 
was mentally thinking of different ways to make the same 
suggestion without offending her. The Mafia boys need to take a 
lesson from her in how to make offers that can't be turned down. 
"My shoulders and upper back feel coated with the lotion now.  
Would you mind coating my sides and lower back?"

Picking up that bottle of lotion and squeezing it so that the creamy 
white lotion shot into my slick palms while I stared at the side of 
her mashed breast was quite a treat for me. I was beginning to feel 
drops of sweat popping up on my forehead that I knew wasn't 
caused by the warm sun baking us. When my hands were all slick 
with the lotion, I eased my hands down her side, trying not to 
pause or spend too long applying the lotion to the bulging 
mammary flesh as my lucky hands coated her sides with lotion.

Richard was talking to me and telling me that I should consider 
changing careers and becoming a professional masseuse.  People 
are actually paid to do what I was doing.

"Did you find the same type of photographs of Greg wearing 
women's underwear?"  

"Yes. In one, he had on a red lacy bra but again his face was so 
thoroughly covered by the cheap wig that he's almost 
unidentifiable. I found some other photographs that I suspect to be 
him because of the general shape of his body and easily 
identifiable undergarments but his upper body was out of the 
photograph so it's impossible to confirm that those photographs 
are him also. The last traceable record of him appears to be a 
reservation for an airplane flight to Spain, which was about two 
weeks after the day that he disappeared from your house. I haven't 
been able to confirm yet that he was on that flight but I'm still 
looking."

"Ummmmmmm, you're very good!" Her throaty humming approval 
made me wonder if she was talking about my detective work or my 
creamy hands coating the sides of her lush body.

Keeping my mind on business, I continued reporting my findings 
that were detailed on the floppy that I brought as part of my report 
so far. "Conversely going the other way in searching your 
husband's trail to try to find clues as to where he disappeared, I 
discovered through searching old credit card billings in the six 
months before he disappeared that he spent a lot of money in 
shops that specialize in women's apparel."

************************************************



Turning to look at me, she half-raised the side of her body slightly 
off of the chair so that the mashed inner-tube looking breast 
quickly expanded back into a more normal half-grapefruit shape.  I 
saw just a momentary glimpse of dark flesh that I knew had to be 
the nipple's aureole "That was correct. But most of that money was 
spent on me.  He liked buying expensive designer clothes and 
matching jewelry for me and seeing me dressed in his new 
purchases. I know that he bought me at least a couple hundred 
thousand dollars of new clothes in the six months before he left 
me.  Would you mind putting some lotion on my derriere while 
your hands are already covered with lotion?"

Richard tried to answer for me. IS THE POPE CATHOLIC? IS THE 
WATER WET? DO I WANT TO RUB MY HANDS OVER HER 
BEAUTIFUL ASS?

Taking one knee-step to the side so that I was centered over her 
tanned mounds of cellulite-free derriere, I felt the drops of sweat on 
my forehead increasing so that one lone drop trickled down my 
nose, hung for a second, then fell onto that perfect ass where it 
was instantly blended with the light coating of perspiration coating 
her body. As I poured the creamy white liquid thickly onto my 
hands again, I stared at her slightly spread legs and was able to 
visually confirm that anyone eating her pussy would never get 
hairs in their mouth. Yeah, she had the cutest waxed pussy that 
I've ever seen.

From the corner of my vision, I sensed that her head was turned so 
that she was looking at me. Glancing back at her and trying to 
wipe the smile from my face, I tried to act as if it was normal for 
me to slap thick copious handfuls of creamy lotion on every one of 
my employer's asses. So talking business to her while Richard was 
screaming STICK YOUR FINGER DEEP INSIDE HER, I told her 
about my suspicions. "I think that your husband has changed his 
name and is going by another name now as well using as a 
different social security number.  The only way that a person 
disappears so completely is if they are dead or using other 
identification."

Turning her head so that her chin was resting on her crossed 
palms and she was staring straight ahead, she spread her legs a 
little more as if she was silently telling me to "put lotion on 
anything that you can see".  Her voice purred as she thought about 
my assumption. "I also suspected that Greg was going by another 
name.  But that was only after I thought about his cross-dressing 
and his desire to transform himself into a woman. Once when I 
threatened to leave him unless he told me everything about his 
'other life', he told me that he had a net name of Monica Taborski. 
Yeah, he told me he had established some e-mail accounts listed in 
that name. Sorry that I didn't include that in my text file of facts 
about him but I had blotted that discussion out of my mind until 
just now. Please put plenty of lotion on me and don't let any sense 
of false modesty stop you from making sure that I'm heavily coated 
with lotion.  I don't want to get burnt and some parts of my body 
are more sensitive than others."

Richard was screaming that he knew which body parts were the 
most sensitive. Because of Richard's thoughts filling my brain with 
his rambling, I vaguely remember her saying the name "Monica 
Taborski". Richard was screaming so loudly that I couldn't hear 
anything but the pounding in my temples as I stared at the 
puckered shaved lips between her legs.  How can anything that 
ugly be so damn pretty?

Just looking at her wonderful shaved pussy, I knew that Richard 
was going to get a heavy workout as soon as I got somewhere 
private.  Taking her words at heart that she wanted lotion 
everywhere, I tested the waters by gently spreading her ass cheeks 
with one hand while pushing a thick coating of lotion down her 
crack. I fought the urge to slip my slick finger down into her tight 
anal crack to see how far I could push her explicit guidance.

Trying to pretend that my mind was on business, I heard my voice 
crack as if I was a teenage boy going through puberty. "Monica 
Taborski?  I'll also look for that name or variations of that name. I 
noticed in that report that he has no next of kin except for you 
because of the marriage. I see that you were married in one of 
those walk-in chapels in Las Vegas.  I would have guessed that you 
would have been married in a big church wedding."

"Ummm, that feels so good. Be a dear and put it on thick there.  
That part of my body always feels so dry because the toilet paper 
removes the natural oils needed to prevent skin rash. Yes, it was a 
walk-in chapel.  We both thought that I was pregnant and we 
wanted to have the license before any baby came along. It was a 
miscarriage. Neither of us have any families so it was a wedding 
just for our benefit and the law."

Being asked to repeatedly thrust a slick finger up and down a 
beautiful woman's crack was the best gift that I ever received in my 
life.  Even better than when Dad bought me my first used car when 
I turned sixteen. Spreading her cheeks so that I could make sure 
that I was doing it right, I made sure that I rubbed a copious 
amount of thick liquid the whole length of her beautiful crack.  She 
certainly wasn't going to have to worry about skin rash while I'm in 
her employ.

"Ummmmm, your finger feels so good. Ummmm, you know that 
feels so erotic that I think that I've just discovered a new turn-on. I 
think that when I select a new lover, that I'm going to ask him to 
rub plenty of lotion on my ass as part of our foreplay. Ummmm I 
could let you do that all day but I know that you are a busy man. 
What else have you discovered?"

I knew that she was talking about my investigation into her 
missing husband.  But Richard was screaming that he had lots of 
things to tell her that I had discovered. I was enjoying this as much 
as she was enjoying it.  And when she told me that she wanted her 
next lover to do this to her, I though that a very intensive 
throbbing Richard was going to rip through two layers of cloth.

 Accepting her suggestion that I should let my hands move on to 
other parts of her body, I reluctantly eased my finger out of her 
crack and watched it close up like a Venus flytrap.  "Well, I've been 
trying to determine how he's living. Normally when a rich person 
plans to walk off and start a new life, they transfer money to other 
accounts so that they can continue to live a decent life. Looking at 
the history of your bank accounts, I see a lot of expenditures but 
all of the money transfers appear to be legitimate expenses.  How is 
he living without working?"

Giggling as if something just struck her as being funny, she 
laughed a husky laugh that reminded me of an old high school 
girlfriend.  I had just claimed her virginity and we were still in the 
back seat of my old car when she laughed a husky laugh as if 
something was very funny but that she wouldn't share with me as 
if I didn't understand. Tanya's laugh had that same mysterious 
sexy quality to it. "Working? A pretty woman like me never has to 
work hard except to do what it takes to look good for her man.  If 
Greg found himself a rich daddy who liked skinny cross-dressing 
men, Greg would never have to work either. Don't forget to put 
some lotion on my tant."

For a beautiful woman, she was also very smart. I hadn't 
considered that the reason that I wasn't finding any traces of Greg 
was because someone else was supporting him. Men are supposed 
to support themselves and I hadn't really considered that potential 
yet. After all, having an in-depth knowledge of cross-dressing 
men's habits isn't one of my strong points, thank god. Analyzing 
her words, I suddenly realized that I didn't know what she meant 
by "tant". 

"Pardon?  'Tant?' I'm not familiar with that term."

"Why Detective Marlowe.  I thought that you were a street-wise ex-
cop.  Tant is the narrow area between my two body cavities.  It 
'tant' pussy and it 'tant' ass."   

My hand was shaking as I poured the lotion onto my hand. I knew 
that I couldn't control my fingertips if I got that close to her shaved 
pussy. I knew. I knew. I knew.

Then I did it.  I placed a heavily coated finger on her Tant. She 
moaned a low throaty growl as if she was a tiger purring for me. I 
started to say something suggestive such as "my nose makes a 
good lotion spreader" but then I remembered that my dear old dad 
once told me that when things are going great to remember to keep 
my mouth shut. Right now things were the best that I had ever 
experienced in my raggedy old life.

Her lower body was absolutely devoid of hair, which I assumed 
that meant frequent trips to a salon specializing in that function. I 
knew that she waxed instead of shaving because there wasn't any 
stubble and instantly made a mental note to consider that as a 
second career if I couldn't make a go out of this detective business. 
And that 'tant' was just as soft as a baby's skin. 

"Detective Marlowe, what do you plan to do next?"

Richard almost caused me to answer FUCK YOU but I shook my 
head to shake some common sense back into my brain. "I suppose 
that I need to start concentrating on trying to find people that he 
might have been communicating with at that time to see if they 
worked out an arrangement. He had to have someplace to go and 
something to do. You stated in some of the notes that you gave me 
that life was good between the two of you and that you hadn't had 
any disagreements prior to his disappearance.  He had to have 
some reason for leaving on that date and some place to go where 
he could disappear without a trace."

I was rubbing my fingertip coated with lotion against her 'tant' and 
trying to get the courage to let my finger accidentally slip down one 
inch so that I was coating those two lips that I so desperately 
wanted to kiss. Then she surprised me. With one deft movement, 
she raised her hips so that her pussy came up to rub against my 
coated finger.

I don't know which one of us groaned first. Me, her or Richard?  I 
know that I groaned very loudly and that my self-serving finger 
unexpectedly started taking orders from Richard. My slick finger 
easily spread her vaginal lips and eased into that wonderfully 
warm and slightly wet body cavity that I had spent the last two 
days drooling about. Shit, I knew that I was going to be fired for 
crossing over the delicate employer/employee boundary but as 
long as I had already royally screwed up, I was going for the 
maximum thrill.

As my finger plunged into her for the full depth of my finger length, 
I heard her grunt "yes, baby. I need that."

HELL, SHE NEEDED IT.  WHAT ABOUT ME AND RICHARD?  WE 
NEED IT TOO.

I'm all man.  I'm a red-blooded man.  And every drop of my blood 
was currently trapped in an enormous hard erection between my 
legs or pounding in my temples.  I knew that I was a very likely 
candidate for a stroke unless I found someway to relieve that 
pressure.  With my finger twisting around deep within her body, I 
found my other hand pushing her spread legs even further apart 
and my face trying to cram into that tight area where her luscious 
'tant' was hidden from the world. Just as my nose got to within two 
inches of being shoved between the most perfect two lips in the 
world, I felt her pulling away from me.

My nose followed her as she pulled herself across the chair and 
away from me as she moved away from me.  When she moved 
rapidly and twisted her hips so that my finger plopped out of her 
thickly wet body cavity, I knew it was over.  I was going to be fired 
for fingering the boss.  I had given some of my other bosses the 
finger before but never like this.

Twisting and spinning as she came off of the cabana chair, she 
rose to her full height and stood in front of me.  Her gleaming 
green eyes were brightly smiling as if she was greatly enjoying 
herself.  Her magnificent tear-dropped shaped boobs were heaving 
as if she was in the initial throes of an orgasm. Bending over and 
grabbing my tie as if it was handle to control my body, she used 
my tie to pull me to my feet and close to her.  Holding my face 
about a foot from my face, she groaned in a throaty husky voice 
that burned a searing pain in my groin. "Baby, we're moving too 
fast. Way too fast to be good for either of us. But I promise you 
that if you find Greg for me, I'll give you a night that you'll never 
forget."

My hands went around her hips and I started to pull her naked 
body next to my body and to let my mouth convince her not to wait 
but she dropped my tie and used her finger against my lips to 
convince me that it had gone as far as it was going to go at that 
moment. I remembered what my daddy had told me once "a 
woman will only give it to you when she's ready and anything 
before then is rape."

Standing next to her, I found it difficult to look down at her 
completely exposed boobs.  Instead I was looking into her eyes, 
trying to see who she was and where I fit into her life. When she 
whispered so that it was a pouty whisper dismissing me, I could 
tell by the way that she was moving her lips that she liked oral sex 
also.  "I have to go take a bath and get ready to meet with some 
friends.  You have to go back down to the city and back to work 
trying to find my missing husband.  Be a good boy and leave the 
same way that you came in here."

Turning around, she walked away from me. I felt like doing a 
double-back flip twenty feet into the air followed by a swan dive 
into the nearby pool to cool off but my feet were frozen to the 
concrete. I watched her walk into her house and shut the door 
without even looking back at me.

With her out of sight, I began to think again.  Hell, I began to 
breath again. My feet felt leaden as I walked out of that patio.  I 
knew that my feet would fly if I was to turn and head back toward 
that closed door but going toward my car, they felt like they were 
encased in cement.

Easing into my driver's seat, I did two things that I absolutely had 
to wait to do until I was within the privacy of my car. The first was 
that I held the fingertip that had explored my boss's body under 
my nose and I enjoyed the scent of the heady aroma still remaining 
on my coated finger. I was never going to wash that finger again.   
The second was that I used my other hand to grasp Richard 
through my trousers and made him a promise that I intended to 
honor as soon as I was home.  "Later!"


********************************************


******

Richard was so demanding that night that I felt as if I put a callous 
on my right hand.  But I felt a hell of a lot better.  Prior to taking 
care of Richard myself, I tried to find a substitute.  Hell, I was 
needing a woman so badly that I even called my ex and suggested 
that we spend a couple of minutes talking about old times.  That's 
how much I needed a woman.

Well, Richard had to settle for my right hand.

As for work, when I got back to my office, there was a nice throaty 
message on my answering machine.  No name but I recognized the 
voice. "Baby, you really know how to make me feel like a woman 
again. I haven't had too much of a love life since Greg left and you 
caused me to feel something good and very strong again. I was 
thinking so hard about you while I took my bath that I was an 
hour late meeting my friends as I ….. found….. ways…. to….. 
entertain….. myself. Look, we need……. to spend a little time 
together ……getting to know each other in a social situation so that 
I can decide if I should ever let you put any more lotion on my 
back. I've got a formal cocktail party that I'm going to have to 
attend tomorrow evening. It will be just a bunch of my boring 
friends who will spend most of the evening talking about their 
various stock options or about a vacation that they just completed. 
I've called a tailor and told him to put you in a nice black tie suit at 
my expense. Why don't you plan on joining me at Cavendish 
Country Club at seven tomorrow evening?"

Chapter 3 - Having a beer with the boss

I've never owned a suit that cost more than one hundred and thirty 
dollars. I've never owned more than two suits at one time in my 
total life. I walked out of that tailor's shop carrying a custom made 
black tie suit that cost my new boss about eight hundred dollars.  I 
tried to pick a suit that was in the three hundred dollar range but 
the tailor said that he had very explicit instructions that I was to 
have a very good suit.

Of course he had problems when I insisted that I had to have 
someplace to carry my pistol. So he made a small modification so 
that I could carry it hidden in the small of my back where it didn't 
show.

As I sat in my office passing time until the magic moment when I 
could go see her, I remember when I was a kid and wanted 
summer to arrive so that I could be out of school.  That's how I felt 
as I watched the clock drag slowly on while I waited for seven 
o'clock.

I used the time effectively. I closed out some dead-ends to some of 
my searches and initiated other searches.  I discovered that two 
days after arriving in Spain, Greg flew to Greece, then flew to 
Tokoyo. Three weeks later, he was in Mexico.  That's where I lost 
his trail.  I suspected that he worked his way to the border and 
crossed back into the states but I couldn't prove that yet.  Nor 
could I prove where he went from there.

I also had a long discussion with some of the people owning the 
web sites where I found Greg's photographs.  They didn't want to 
talk but when I hinted that I might have to drag them into court 
cases if they didn't assist me, they told me what they knew about 
him. Going back through their old records, they told me that he 
had submitted the photographs using the name "Darci Taborski".

Otherwise they knew nothing about him or his present location.

So I added Darci Taborski ot my list of Monica Taborski and Greg 
Browning as names to investigate. I found where a Darci Taborski 
rented a car in Mexico City about the time that Greg was in the 
vicinity.  But how did he get official identification with that name 
and manage to look like a "Darci" to convince someone to rent him 
a car with a woman's name on it? And where did Darci go from 
there?

My ex-wife called me back and said that she wanted to reconsider 
my offer to talk about getting together again.  Looking up at the 
clock and seeing that I was going to meet Tanya in only two hours, 
I also factored into my reply to my ex that my original offer was 
made when I was experiencing serious physical difficulties after my 
poolside meeting with Tanya.  I told my ex to "go get fucked" and 
hung up on the bitch. I didn't need her now.

*****

It was awkward getting into the Country Club.  When I pulled up 
in my twelve-year-old rusted-out car, the gatekeeper tried to turn 
me away.  But when I told him that I was meeting Mrs. Browning 
and he saw my fancy Black Tie, he let me in, but suggested that I 
use the parking lot at the back of the building.

Walking into the Club, I felt like James Bond walking into a casino. 
Fancy Black Tie suit, pistol tucked into my belt and surrounded by 
luscious expensive chicks wearing fancy cocktail dresses.  If this 
was how the rich lived, then I had to become rich somehow.

I saw her talking to some man whose face looked familiar. I knew 
that I had seen him in movies before but I couldn't think of his 
name. 

She was wearing a simple ankle-length strapless black cocktail 
dress with a long slit up one leg. But with her long legs, slender 
arms, long blonde hair, deep tanned skin, and exposed upper 
chest, she looked like a vision of total loveliness. When she saw me 
standing patiently, she signaled me to come join them.

Holding out her hand to greet me, she pulled me to her side in one 
smooth move that culminated with me standing beside her with 
my arm around her waist as if she wanted to establish that she 
had a personal relationship with me. Then she introduced me to 
the man whose face was familiar but I couldn't place his name.  
"Brad, I want you to meet Darrel Marlowe.  He owns a large 
security consultant firm that I'm thinking about investing some 
more money in as part of my stock portfolio.  Darrel, this is Brad 
Pitts."

I've seen a lot of movie stars.  But usually it was when I was 
working security at some concert.  To be standing in a fancy 
country club wearing a black tie suit with my arm around that 
luscious babe and talking to Brad Pitts was unreal.

After a few minutes of polite discussion, Tanya and I adjourned 
toward the bar.  As soon as we were out of hearing range of Brad, I 
laughed at her audacity to declare my small one-man almost-broke 
business as a "large security consultant firm".  "You lied to Brad 
Pitts.  What am I going to say if he ever calls me up and wants to 
see my company revenues?"

"Just tell him the truth.  That you are a privately owned company 
and that you have a limited number of investors and no room for 
anyone else at this time.  But he probably won't call you. At these 
sorts of gatherings, you meet all sorts of people.  He'll think that 
you're just someone else trying to fuck me and leave it at that.  
Why don't you order me a wine?"

Standing beside her at the bar, I started to pull out my billfold to 
buy us a drink when she grabbed my hand, stopping me.  "No, our 
host is picking up the bill for all drinks.  When you get ready to 
leave for the evening, just tip the bartender twenty bucks and 
everyone will be happy."

Following her advice, I ordered her a wine and a glass of whisky for 
myself. Sipping my drink I stared at her pretty face and saw that 
same Mona Lisa type of mysterious smile that I was frequently 
seeing on her face. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Her low and throaty giggle was enough to make Richard glad that I 
asked the tailor to make sure that I had extra room in the groin 
area. "Ummm, I was just thinking how great you look in that suit. 
So muscular.  So handsome.  So virile. Wonder what our host 
would do if we were to sneak behind the patio curtains and I was 
to throw my leg around your hips and wrap my arms around your 
neck for a little bit of hanky-panky. I'm not wearing any panties, 
you know."

"Uhhhh, no, I didn't know.  You look very pretty."

After making a quick glance around to see if anyone was looking, 
she surprised me turning slightly so that her right hip was gently 
touching my right leg. With her hand hidden by our bodies and the 
bar behind her, she rubbed the palm of her hand against my groin 
as she whispered a perverse thought that I had never considered 
but was ready to try. "Ummm, no I didn't wear any panties tonight.  
But I left them on my dresser. Afterwards if you were to take me 
home and to show me what you look like wearing them, I would 
consider picking up where we left off at yesterday."

Four images were roaring through my over-loaded brain. One was 
the unimaginable delightful sensation of her soft hand rubbing my 
very hard erection through the couple of layers of trousers. Two 
was her verbal commitment to resume what we were doing 
yesterday with the fingers and lotion and 'tant'.  Three was the 
concept that for me to slip into her panties, I had to be undressed 
and in her bedroom. Four was that the warmth of her close body, 
the teasing gleam within her sparkling green eyes and the 
closeness of staring down her cleavage at her heaving breasts had 
totally removed my ability to think of anything else.

It was hard to imagine that Greg Browning had run off and left this 
wonderful piece of womanhood.  An even worse concept was that I 
was supposed to find him so that they could pick up where they 
left off in their marriage and romance.

"Ummm, feels like a ten incher.  I like them big.  Greg had a big 
one too.  I like to feel big cocks inside me."

Her gentle palm rubbing against my erection had caused me to 
lose my voice. Richard certainly wasn't a ten incher. But there was 
no way that I was going to tell her the truth about my little buddy.  
Let her find out for herself.

Looking around to see if anyone was looking at us, she waved with 
her other hand and smiled at some friend across the room as she 
whispered something that made my knees go weak.  "I like to have 
sex in public places. Do you think that we can slip into a janitor's 
closet somewhere and fuck?"

Public Places? Janitor's closet?  Fuck? If she only knew how close 
she was to being thrown up on the bar and fucked in front of all 
these movie stars, she would be very happy. 

I felt her fingertips fumbling with my zipper and felt my back trying 
to arch to give her more room. The sound of my zipper being pulled 
down was almost as loud as the pounding in my ears. Then I felt 
the softest and warmest hand introduce herself to Richard.  
Richard, this is hand. Hand, this is Richard. Richard, behave 
yourself. Richard, don't explode yet.  Richard......

I had to grasp the bar and hold onto it because the room was 
beginning to spin. All of the blood in my body was down in that 
throbbing staff that she was tightly clinching. Staring into her 
eyes, I sent her a signal to do whatever she wanted to do to me.  I 
didn't care if tomorrow's headlines read "Man jacked off in Country 
Club bar" and showed my photograph.  I preferred that headline 
over the headline that I knew was going to occur if she didn't 
relieve me. "Man's dick explodes in million pieces, killing Brad Pitt 
and twenty socialites."

I didn't want to see my photograph on the front page of the 
National Enquirer because of my exploding dick.  I wanted relief.

Shutting my eyes and holding onto the bar to balance myself, I 
concentrated on her warm soft hand wrapped around Richard. 
Richard, you lucky devil.

Then I felt it. I was going to explode. Standing in a bar at the 
Country Club, I was going to shoot a wad of cum into her hand. I 
bit my lip to keep from screaming. Opening my eyes, I stared at her 
smiling face and knew that she was aware of what was about to 
happen.  She gently shook her head to signal that she wanted me 
to let it rip.

And I did.

If you look at the seismographs that monitor unusual underground 
activities for Los Angles and see activity for that night, it wasn't an 
earthquake.  It was me.  I transferred my total force into my 
handhold on that bar.  I was afraid that it was going to break off in 
my hands or that I was going to do something stupid like scream 
"YESSSSSS".

But somehow I stood almost perfectly still as I felt my warm body 
fluids pumping into my expensive trousers and onto her soft hand. 
When I got to where I could open my eyes again, I discovered that 
my knees were so weak that I had to use the bar for support.  I felt 
her pull her hand out and zip up my trousers. Then she used her 
cocktail napkin to clean most of my creamy-white cum from her 
hand. When her hand was reasonably dry, she raised one finger to 
her lips and held her still damp finger close to her face as she 
smelled my scent on her hand.

With a deft quick flick of her tongue, she licked her finger causing 
me to shudder again. "Ummm, you taste good.  Have you ever 
tasted a man's cum, Darrel?"

That was an easy question to answer.  "No."

Holding her cum covered finger in front of my lips, she teasingly 
gave me a command that I knew that I had to obey.  "Try a taste of 
your cum."

I opened my mouth to let her insert an inch of her finger into my 
mouth. Closing my lips around her finger, I tasted a salty taste 
which I knew was my cum.  But more importantly, I knew that we 
had just made a commitment to fuck each other until we were 
totally exhausted. I didn't care that I was standing in the middle of 
a country club bar with a woman's cum-covered finger stuck in my 
mouth and my trousers full of warm wet cum.  I only knew that I 
had to have this woman and the sooner the better.

******

Ok, so I didn't fuck her afterwards.

But I tried.

Even Richard admitted that I tried.

I had recovered my balance so that I was able to stand normally 
and most of the glazed look on my face was gone. We were 
laughing and acting very normally when some female friend of 
Tanya came over to talk to us. I was still facing the bar and trying 
to hide the obviously wet spot in the middle of my crotch. Tanya 
picked up her glass of wine and was moving it toward her lips 
when the glass slipped from her hands and "horror of horrors", she 
spilled the wine on my crotch.

Naturally she was apologetic and very vocal in blaming herself for 
ruining my trousers in front of witnesses. A waiter escorted me out 
of the room and into a small room where I removed my trousers 
then waited while they cleaned my trousers.

Going back into the bar with dry and reasonably clean trousers, I 
felt like a new man. Tanya was still with a group of her friends and 
she introduced me to all of them. Then as a group, we went into 
the main dining room where dinner was waiting.

Sitting beside Tanya at the dinner table, I tried to be Mister 
Personality as she rubbed her ankle against my leg underneath the 
tablecloth.  And when she placed her hand in her lap but under 
the cover of the tablecloth would make teasing quick rubs of my 
crotch, I pretended to not notice and talked to her friends about 
whatever stupid subject that we were discussing.

Then came one of the most disappointing moments of my life.  One 
of her friends, some famous actor's wife, decreed that all of the 
women were going to a men's strip bar. I looked at Tanya with 
pleading eyes, reminding her of her promises to me. She raised her 
eyebrows as if to say "sorry" then started joking with her girlfriends 
about how much fun it was to have a male stripper rubbing his 
crotch in her face.  

I knew that I wouldn't be going back to her place that night. I came 
very close to following them to the strip bar and surprising them by 
somehow becoming one of the dancers.  They wouldn't have to pay 
me for the opportunity to rub my crotch against Tanya's pretty 
face.

I didn't know it then but I wouldn't see her for about four days.

******

I called her everyday but only got her answering machine. I even 
drove out to her place but the guard wouldn't let me in, not even 
when I showed him my badge.  He told me that she was out of 
town.

*******************************************************



Ok, I'm a big guy.  I've been dumped before.  Never as hard as this 
time, but I've been dumped before and I know that I'll be dumped 
again.  So I plowed into my work.  She was still my employer. I still 
had her money in my saving's account and I owed it to her to do 
the best possible job of trying to find her husband.

No wonder Greg ran off, if she treated him the way that she just 
dumped me.

I found where Darci Taborski had entered the United States in a 
rented car, then turned the car in to the rental company in 
Palmdale California. I found where she boarded a train to 
Washington State two days later. Then I found where she rented a 
car and drove to Colorado. That's where I lost her trail. 

Was Darci Taborski really Greg Browning?  I didn't know.  I just 
know that I couldn't find anything to prove that either Darci or 
Monica ever existed. And Darci's trail started where Greg's trail 
disappeared.  Because I didn't have any good photographs of Greg 
nor any photographs of Darci, it was impossible to determine if 
they were one and the same.

Buying a six-pack of beer, I took all of the photo's that I had of 
Greg's face and went to a computer nerd friend of mine. Sitting in 
his messy home computer center, I watched him as he tried to 
come up with a good photograph of what Greg looked like then by 
pulling different parts of the photograph onto one image.  When he 
was finished, it looked like a Frankenstein creation with so many 
misshaped parts on his face.    

If I ever saw a man that looked like that, I would run. Well so 
much for a bad ideal.

Looking at the different parts of Greg's face, we started breaking it 
into components.  We started with the long solid Roman nose. It 
was a nose that was good for a rugged man but would make any 
wanna-be woman look like an ugly Barbara Striesland. So if he 
was living as a woman, we decided that he probably got rid of the 
nose.  So we came up with options as to what Darci's nose 
probably looked like.  It either looked exactly like Greg's Roman 
nose or exactly like any other nose in the world.

See what a couple of beers can do for you in a brainstorming 
project?

Having struck out with the nose, we started looking at the facial 
features that couldn't be changed.  We decided that the oval shape 
of the face couldn't be changed.  So my friend told me that one out 
of every twenty-eight people has an oval shaped face.  Instantly we 
were able to rule out millions and millions of possible facial 
appearances leaving us with only 600 hundred billion other 
potential face shapes.  Then we talked about other facial shapes 
and when my nerd buddy said Greg's eyes would always be brown, 
I had to remind my friend that with contact lens, you could change 
the color of your eyes to be almost any color. Recognizing that we 
weren't getting anywhere, we finished off our beer. We called it a 
night and I drove home. 

When I walked into my apartment, I saw my home answering 
machine light flashing.  Grabbing another beer, I hit the button 
and listened as a very familiar throaty voice came out of the cheap 
speaker. "Hi Babe.  Sorry about the other night.  Went to the club 
with them, then after several drinks while I was too drunk to think 
what I was doing, I accepted an offer from my best friend to fly 
down to Mexico for a couple of days in the sun with her.  It was 
fun. Cameron Diaz was there as was some more names of people 
that I'm sure that you'll recognize.  Sure wished that you had been 
there to help me pass the nights.  I thought a lot about you at 
nighttime and when one of the local boys was putting lotion on 
Cameron's back, I started to tell Cameron about how I had this 
friend that could.... well, it was girl talk between us which would 
probably make you blush if you know how dirty us girls talk 
sometime.  But Cameron said that she would like to meet you 
sometime. Over my dead body. It's late or I'd ask you to come over.  
But I'm in my bed and watching television and would like some 
phone sex.  If I can't have you here with me, I feel like 
masturbating myself tonight. Why don't you call me when you're 
undressed and lying in your bed? I'll bet that I can….Ummm, I'm 
getting hot just thinking about what I want to tell you.  You've got 
my number."

Yeah, I had her number.  She was a fucking tease and I was her 
new toy.  She would use me, break my heart and dump me just as 
she did the other night.  I may be paranoid, but you don't have to 
hit me on the head twice before I learn to watch out for you.

I felt cynical on life.  I felt hatred for her simply because I knew 
that I wanted her and could never really have her.  Oh, I might get 
lucky and spend a little time in her bed.  But she was a free spirit 
who ran in a world of famous actors and rich people.  And I'm just 
an ex-homicide cop who's barely making enough to pay my 
apartment's rent. I couldn't even support my ugly ex-wife in the 
style to which she was accustomed, which when we were out for a 
night out on the town meant McDonalds and a movie. So how 
could I compete with all of those movie stars for someone as 
beautiful as Tanya Browning?

Unbucking my belt and slipping out of my trousers, I laid on my 
bed as I finished my last beer and thought about Tanya.  I ignored 
what Richard was telling me as I tried to separate fact from desire.

She's a tease.

She will break my heart.

She will hurt me.

She's my boss.

Deciding that I had crossed over the boss/employee relationship 
too far, I jerked my phone cord out of the wall so that she couldn't 
call me later and torment me anymore.  Lying on the bed with 
Richard tightly clasped in my right hand, I tried to pretend it was 
her hand wrapped around Richard again.

But the thrill was gone.  My hand was big and callused.  Her hand 
was small, soft and had a vitality that caused electrical shocks to 
flow through every nerve in my body.

Even Richard didn't like the feel of my hand anymore.  When you 
get where your own hand can't satisfy you, you're almost at the 
end of your rope.  I glanced at the phone cord and wished that I 
hadn't been so hasty.  Not that I was going to call Tanya.  I was 
going to call my ex and try to make up with her after the shitty way 
that I dumped her a few days ago.

But as I thought about getting in bed with my ex, Richard told me 
that he wanted Tanya and he wasn't going to perform for anyone 
else.

Shit.  My cock was rejecting my hand and even my ex-wife's pussy.  
What's next?

*****

I found a lead. The now-closed bank account that Darci Taborski 
used to pay for her charges had another card on the same account. 
A card made out in Lenora Johnson's name. And Lenora Johnson 
rented a car about two weeks after Darci's trail disappeared. Then I 
got very lucky.  There were a lot of gasoline charges for Lenora 
Johnson from a resort area in Colorado so I started calling some of 
the rental agencies.  After about five hours, I found someone who 
had some old records of a cabin rented to Lenora Johnson for a 
month.  No one remembered her but she stayed there for a month 
before driving back to Los Angles.  Where she turned the rental car 
back in to the rental agency, was only about four miles from my 
office. And that's where that trail ended so far.

It was five p.m and I was considering going down to the local bar 
for a quick hamburger and coming back to make a few more phone 
calls before I called it quits for the night.  That's when I heard the 
elevator door open. Glancing at my watch, I knew that the 
Accounting Firm wouldn't have anyone coming in that late so it 
must be one of the other occupants of the floor coming by to pick 
up their mail.

But then I heard the footsteps of a woman's high heels clicking on 
the floor and I knew exactly whom it was that was now proudly 
walking down the corridor toward my office. For the first time in a 
couple of days, Richard seemed a little alive as he listened to her 
footsteps coming closer to my door.

She didn't bother to knock as she pushed open my door with her 
toe as she stood there with her hands in her coat's pockets. She 
was wearing one of those full-length fur coats, which seemed awful 
suspicious to me for a hot afternoon in LA. Leaning against my 
door jam, she slipped an unlit cigarette into her mouth as she did 
her Lauren Bacall impression. "Hey, you gotta a match?"

Not bothering to get up from my desk, I flipped my matchbook a 
couple of inches so that it landed a few inches from me on the 
corner of my desk. Smiling that Mona Lisa smile of hers that I had 
learnt to be so dangerous, she came walking toward my desk. 
Halfway across the room, she shrugged her shoulders and let her 
fur coat fall to the floor.  She was almost totally naked except that 
she was only wearing the mid-thigh hose, garters and high heels. It 
looked like she came prepared to fuck me to make up for the 
mental torment that she had already caused me.

Picking up my matchbook, she took her time lighting her cigarette 
acting as if she was unconcerned that the door was standing wide 
open or that someone could walk by my office and see that except 
for the hose, she was totally naked.

Sitting down in the client chair, she propped her head on the back 
of the chair and propped her feet on my desk. With both of her feet 
firmly propped on my desk so that I was looking straight down her 
long legs, it was mighty hard to look at her face instead of looking 
at her hairless pussy.

"Called you last night but you didn't call me back. Called you today 
but you didn't answer."

I've got caller-id and saw her number when those calls came in so I 
didn't answer her attempts to ring me. "I was busy."

"Too busy for some loving?"

I shrugged my shoulders.  "Everyone's got their priorities.  I was 
busy working on your case.  I think that I've got a lead in Colorado.  
I think that Greg started using the name Lenora Johnson."

Slowly rising to her feet like a cobra moving to a charmer's horn, 
she never broke eye contact with me. Walking around my desk so 
that she was standing beside me, she pushed the back of my chair 
so it spun around so that I was facing her. In one smooth motion, 
she lifted one of her long slender legs and straddled my lap.  Then 
she sat down facing me on my lap so that her naked breasts were 
only a few inches below my chin. I refused to look at her breasts 
and stared at her mischievous green eyes as we played our game of 
poker.  She had just raised the stakes and was daring me to either 
fold or play. If I was to accept the offer of the breasts that were just 
inches from my face, I would win a fucking as I lost my soul forever 
and allowed her to dominate me.

I considered several different options.  Richard was telling me to 
pick her up, clean my desk off with one swing of my arm and lay 
her bare ass on top of my desk.  Richard was ready to do his part.

My mind was telling me that she was one bitch that I didn't want 
to have any further involvement with and that the sooner that I 
finished this case, the better off that I would be.

But when you've got an almost totally naked chunk of desirable 
woman-flesh sitting on your lap begging for it, the mind's logical 
thought processes usually loses to the body's desires.

Taking her lipstick coated cigarette out of her mouth and nudging 
it into my tightly clinched lips, she put her arms around my neck 
and stared down at me as if trying to figure out how to get me back 
to my horny old willing-to-do-anything self of a few days ago. 

Then she did something that I never suspected her to do. Her legs 
tensed and she eased off of my lap into a standing position. 
Walking around my desk, she bent over quickly to pick up her fur 
coat and she walked out of my office without ever looking back or 
covering up her naked body as she stepped out into the hallway.

I listened to her high heels click on the hallway's hard floor as she 
walked to the elevator.  I knew that she expected me to run after 
her and beg her to come back.  But I wasn't going to chase her.  
I've got my pride.  Nothing else but it's all I've got.

Still holding her cigarette in my mouth, I tried to think what she 
was going to do next.  Go home and fire me.  That's what I would 
do.  After all, the city is full of detectives who can do whatever she 
wants them to do.

As I heard the elevator door shut carrying her away from me, my 
phone rang.  I looked at the caller-id and didn't recognize the 
number.  For a moment, I started to ignore it but knew that I had 
placed a lot of calls and requested people to call me back.

"Marlowe!" I stated when I answered the phone.

"Your caller-id didn't recognize this cell phone number, did it, 
Babe? I'm on my way up the roof.  I told you that I like to fuck in 
public places.  I'm going to climb out on the ledge and the only way 
that you're going to get me off the ledge, is to come up and 'really 
get me off'. See you on the rooftop."

She giggled when she said, "really get me off".  Shit, a naked 
woman on my roof who expects me to fuck her on the building's 
ledge.

No.  I won't go.  I'll call the Police Department and have them get 
her off the roof.  They have the training and equipment to handle 
crazy people.

Chapter 4 - A flagpole stuck up my ass

One of these days, I'm going to take a sharp knife and do a hack 
job on Richard. He gets me in damn much trouble.

I took the stairs up the roof.  The elevator was too slow.  By the 
time, I got to the roof, she was already over the roof's wall and out 
on a small ledge that surrounded the wall.  I saw her waiting on 
me and when she saw me come up on the roof, she laid down on 
the ledge. Running over to the wall, I looked down at her.  She was 
lying on her fur coat.  The ledge was about three feet wide then it 
was a steep drop-off of exactly eight stories.

************************************************


"Hi Babe, I knew that you wouldn't pass up a sure thing.  Kick 
your trousers off and come join me. I need some of your good 
cock."

Holding on tightly to the wall and trying to not look down at the 
ground so many feet below, I extended a hand to her and began 
pleading.  "Let's go back to my office and talk."

"We were just down there.  You didn't have anything to say.  I was 
hoping that you were going to fuck me either on your desk or in 
the elevator going up and down between the floors.  So when you 
turned me down within your office, I thought you might reconsider 
my offer if you saw what a wonderful view it is up here.  Slip over 
here with me and let's get started on our foreplay."

Looking just past her over the ledge, I could see the building 
flagpole about five stories below her ledge.  Shit, all that I needed 
to do, was to climb out there and fall off.  I could see the headlines 
now.  "Man has flagpole stuck up his ass while getting pussy."

Richard was talking loudly to me but thank goodness, I wasn't 
listening to him for the first time in my life.  Talking sternly to her 
as if I was her parent, I gave her an order.  "COME OFF OF THAT 
LEDGE. NOW!"

Yeah, that's how they taught us in Police Academy.  Use an official 
sounding voice. Using her fingertip dampened with her salvia, she 
began teasing her nipple before she answered my direct order.  
"Don't wanta.  That is, unless you're willing to compromise."

Compromise?

Rule number whatever rule from the Police Academy said that 
whenever a person's life is in danger, that you must do whatever is 
necessary to defuse the situation.

"Ok, talk.  What do you want?"

Her eyes brightened and that Mona Lisa smile appeared as she 
began talking in a "me-a-little-kid" voice. "Oh, nothing much.  Just 
want to have a little fun. I've got some handcuffs in my coat's 
pocket.  If you were to tie me up and make love to me in the 
elevator, then I would consider coming off this roof.  Otherwise, I'll 
just wait till some fireman with a really big pole comes along to 
rescue me."

Although I work in a decrepit office building, there's a lot of people 
coming and going. Making love to her in one of the two elevators 
meant that it was eventually going to stop on some floor and reveal 
us to some mighty startled people.  And several of the building 
tenants knew me.

That was a totally unacceptable proposition. I decided that I would 
renegotiate my apartment as the site for our tryst. I would use my 
formidable skill as a former police officer to take control of this 
situation.



******

When the elevator door opened on the fifth floor, I tried to put on a 
brave face.  After all, my hands were handcuffed over my head to 
the ceiling.  My body was totally naked. My cock was covered with 
sexy sayings written in bright red lipstick.  There was a heart 
drawn on my chest in red lipstick and I had a dildo wedged up my 
butt that I couldn't remove in my current predicament.

Luckily it was just one of the janitors with a big trash barrel who 
was very surprised to see me. After I showed him where the keys to 
the handcuffs were, he uncuffed me and I was able to get that 
damn dildo out of my ass. Then he took me to my floor.  Going into 
my office, I found my clothes where we left them.

It had all seemed so simple up on that rooftop.  Sure you come off 
the roof and we'll go into the elevator and fuck.  No, you can't put 
the handcuffs on me.  They are for you.  I won't allow you to cuff 
my hands to ceiling, not even if you keep doing that to Richard.  
Richard, quit that.  Richard, give me control of my body. Tanya, 
you're getting lipstick all over Richard.   Richard, don't let her 
handcuff us to the ceiling.  Richard, what is in that bag that she's 
got?  Oh my god, it's a dildo.  Richard, don't. Tanya, come back, 
don't leave me in this elevator.

There were more memories.  Richard might be one happy cock 
right now but Darrel Marlowe was one pissed-off guy.    

 There was a message on the answering machine.  Pressing the 
button, I heard her familiar voice.  "Hi Babe, I'm driving back 
home. The girls and I are going out for a few hours. Hope that you 
enjoyed our sex as much as I enjoyed it.  Giving you a blowjob in 
an elevator while your hands were cuffed to the ceiling was a lot of 
fun.  We'll have to do that again somewhere but next time, let's 
find a busier elevator.  I kept hoping that someone would call the 
elevator while I was sucking on your cock and I could just imagine 
the look on their faces when the door opened to reveal us getting it 
on.  Sorry, sucking on Richard was what I meant to say.  I like the 
way that you call it that.  He seems so.... intelligent is the best 
word that comes to my mind. Well if you're listening to this, then 
you're out of the elevator.  If you wind up in jail because of our 
little fun, add your bail cost to my expense report.  See you later. 
Oh, yeah before I forget it.  I'm truly sorry about the dildo.  I 
honestly thought that you might like that but you obviously didn't 
like it.  I won't bring one next time."

No, I certainly didn't like it. And there wasn't going to be a next 
time. I sat for almost an hour after she left me with my hands 
stretched over my head and a dildo wedged up in my ass. Because 
of the lateness of the evening, I thought that I would have to stay 
there all night in the ridiculous position. Then I felt the elevator 
move as someone pressed a button to call the elevator.  In that ten 
seconds while I was going to another floor, I decided that I was 
going to drop her as a client.  She's not worth the trouble that 
she's caused me so far.

******

The worst thing about having a cock named Richard that you talk 
to, is that sometimes it talks back.  And Richard talked all night 
long to me.  Although he shot a load of cum into her face and got 
to enjoy the warmness of Tanya's throat while in the elevator, he 
wasn't satisfied.  He kept begging for more as I tried to go to sleep.  
And when I finally did go to sleep, Richard influenced my dreams.  
All I could think about was Tanya.

When I awakened the next morning, my resolve was completely 
gone.  Well not completely.  I still wanted to get rid of her as a 
client but I honestly needed her money at this moment. 

Going to the office, I kept dreading walking into my building. 
Everyone and their brother probably knew about the wild man 
found cuffed in the elevator last night.

After parking my car in the parking lot, I walked around the corner 
to the building's front entrance.  Parked in front of the building 
was her Harley motorcycle. She was leaning against it, smoking a 
big cigar.

Richard leaped to life at the one glance at her.  She was dressed in 
body-hugging black leather pants tucked into mid-knee-high black 
leather boots. She was wearing a pink body-hugging tube-top 
around her breasts, which were obviously braless. On top of her 
head was one of those Village People Biker caps. Hanging from her 
motorcycle mirror was a black leather jacket.

When she saw me coming toward, she smiled as if there was a 
secret that we were sharing.  I knew it wasn't a secret because that 
damn janitor had probably already told the whole world.  Instead 
of newspaper headlines reading, "Man has flagpole stuck up his 
ass while getting pussy", the newspaper headlines probably read 
"Man has dildo stuck up his ass because he thought he was 
getting pussy". 

"Hi, Babe.  How's Richard hanging this morning? You ought to be 
proud of him.  He's quite a mouthful."

"Good morning, Mrs. Browning.  I think that we need to revert 
back to our employer and consultant relationship."

"Ooooh, are we touchy this morning?  I promise that I won't put 
another dildo up your ass.  At least not unless you request it. I'll 
bet that I can make you ask me to do it again."

Richard was burning a hole in my underwear. Her tight black 
leather pants, pink tube-top and cigar sticking out of her mouth 
made her look like one wonderful fuck. I would have loved to 
fucked her but I knew now that I would have to pay a serious price 
to become her lover for any length of time.

"If you will excuse me, I have some work to do in my office.  That 
is, if I still have an office after last night's little mis-adventure."

"I thought about something that you said last night.  There's a 
little town in Colorado that is known to be where most of the sex 
changes in the world are performed.  Do you think that's why 
Darci went to Colorado?"

Suddenly it clicked. Sure. Greg hopped around the world to lose 
anyone trying to find him, using the name Darci Taborski before 
coming in through a back door and taking the long way to 
Colorado.  It was as if he wanted to do some serious thinking 
before he went for the big hatchet job. Then after having the 
surgery to turn him into a real woman, the surgically transformed 
man went to a remote mountain cabin to give his new female body 
time to heal. Once the new woman's body was healed so that she 
could easily move around, she changed names to throw off anyone 
looking for her again and moved on. Yeah, it all makes sense.

"Babe, you got very serious on me all of a sudden. Are you all 
right?" 

Looking at her, I wanted to kiss her.  All right, I wanted to fuck 
her, but would have settled for a kiss.

I quickly explained my theory to her.  She asked a lot of questions 
and I made some guesses.  Then she surprised me by saying 
"Babe, you sound as if you've just done a day's work. You look like 
you could use a little fun about now. Why don't you hop on here 
and let's go bar-hopping?"

Swinging one long leg over the low-swung motorcycle, she began 
putting on her motorcycle jacket.  Something about black leather 
on a tall leggy blonde turns me on and she had already proved that 
she turned me on in other ways also. I began explaining to her why 
I couldn't do it, while she buttoned a couple of snap buttons on the 
bottom of her leather jacket and started the motorcycle engine.  
Talking over the loud roar of the motorcycle, I told her that I wasn't 
going to go because I had never been on a motorcycle before and 
didn't know the first thing about riding one.

She made me rethink my position when she loudly suggested. "Get 
your ass on the back of this thing. Put your arms around my waist 
and you can play with my tits as I take us to a motorcycle shop to 
get you some decent duds."

Richard sure liked the concept of being on the back of a speeding 
motorcycle using her tits to provide balance.

An hour later, I was one cool dude. Long knee-high black leather 
boots.  Long black leather pants with a matching jacket and a 
bandana around my head. Underneath my jacket, I wore a black t-
shirt with a motorcycle logo. Climbing onto the back of her 
motorcycle, sticking one of her cigars into my mouth and wrapping 
my arms around her waist while I cupped her braless tits was 
going to make this one of the best days of my life.

So we drove out of the city and stopped at a bar.  After a few 
drinks, we went back out to the motorcycle and was going to ride 
up the road to another bar that she liked to visit.  Putting caution 
in front of recklessness, I asked a dumb question.  "You're not too 
drunk to drive this thing are you?"

Slipping her hands within my jacket and letting her hands circle 
my waist as she pressed her firm breasts tightly against my chest, 
we stood there in the parking lot kissing like two horny teenagers. 
Then she whispered something that scared the shit out of me.  "I'm 
not going to drive it.  You are."

"Oh no, I'm not.  I've never driven one in my life and I'm not about 
to start now."

"Too bad.  Because when I'm riding with my man and we're going 
bar-hopping, I like the feel of the motorcycle's vibration between 
my legs.  I like having my legs spread around a man's nice hips.  I 
like having my hand around a man's waist to hold onto him as we 
go through curves.  I especially like playing with my man's balls as 
we ride a motorcycle."

******

I thought that I was going to wreck her motorcycle as I tried to 
learn how to drive it in a nearby empty parking lot.  After several 
minutes, I got the hang of it. It was almost like riding a bike, only a 
hell of a lot more dangerous.

And she was right.  She did love to play with a man's balls as she 
rode tightly behind me. Feeling her left hand around my waist to 
hold on to me and her right hand rubbing against the tight fitting 
leather pants was enough to turn Richard into a Biker Cock.  
Yeah, after we had gone only two miles down the road, I was 
thinking about tattooing the Harley logo on Richard at the next 
tattoo parlor.

I was really beginning to enjoy this.

She gave me directions to a bar.  We pulled in, drank several beers 
then left to go to another bar. Pulling into the next bar's parking 
lot, I saw a lot of bikes out front. Because I had to pee badly from 
all the beer that we had been drinking, I was ready to rush in.  
However she wanted to brush her hair. I accepted her offer and 
words of wisdom that the bathroom was the first door just inside 
the bar.

It was a dark bar. Well, all bars are dark when you've been out in 
the sunlight and first walk in. I found the door and went to the 
urinal. Some man walked in behind me and leaned against the 
wall as he introduced himself with a witty "nice tool that you've got 
there.  My name's Bud.  What's your name?"

I almost cut off the end of Richard as I quickly zipped up.  I was 
almost finished peeing anyway. Another man was standing in the 
doorway with a toothpick in his mouth, a bandana like my 
bandana on his head and a leer on his ugly face.  I didn't like the 
way that he was looking at my crotch and smiling at me.

I didn't have to fight my way out but it almost became a fight as 
they tried to talk me going back to their table for a couple of beers. 
You won't ever catch me getting drunk in that gay motorcylist's 
bar.

Rushing out of the bar, I almost screamed when I saw that the 
motorcycle wasn't where I left it parked. It and Tanya was gone. 
She had talked me into wearing leathers and then abandoned me 
in a gay biker's bar.  I'll kill the bitch the next time that I see her.

Then I heard a horn beep.  Looking up the street about three 
hundred feet away, I saw her sitting on the motorcycle and 
laughing at me.  I know that I looked like a fool as I ran like a kid 
toward that motorcycle but I was very interested in getting the hell 
away from there.  Jumping on the back of the motorcycle, I 
screamed at her as I tightly squeezed her tits harder than I should 
have. I was holding onto the boobs for balance and to pay her back 
for her dirty practical joke on me. "No more tricks."

"I just promised you no dildos in your ass.  Thought I would see if 
you wanted the real thing.  Guess not.  Well, let's go back to my 
pool and fuck."

Riding on the back of that motorcycle with my hands tightly 
cupping her boobs and knowing that I was at last going to score 
with her made me a very happy man.

******

Have you ever looked forward to something so much that when you 
finally did get it, you discovered that it wasn't what you expected 
and you were disappointed?  That didn't happen to me.  Richard 
and I were very proud of what we were doing and what we were 
giving her. Greg's cock, if he still has it, might be a smidgen bigger 
than Richard but I was determined that she wouldn't notice the 
difference.

Well, I fucked Tanya beside her pool. And in her pool.  And in her 
sauna. And in her living room. And in her kitchen. And in her 
bedroom. And any place where I could fuck her. Whoa, that's one 
woman that doesn't believe in the standard old missionary, slam-
blam technique.

We started in her garage. As soon as the kickstand was down on 
the ground, she spun around so that she was facing me and we 
were both sitting on her motorcycle. When she said to rip her tube 
top off, I was very willing to do that then I leaned her back on the 
gas tank so I could suck on her nipples. And when she ripped my 
t-shirt off of me so that she could suck on my nipples to show me 
what it felt like, I was ready for more foreplay.

With both of us naked from the waist up and her legs around my 
waist, I carried her into her back yard where we undressed each 
other. Then she dived into the pool and dared me to eat her pussy 
underwater.

I almost drowned.

I can swim but I stayed under water too long doing what I was 
supposed to do.

Then she ran into the house and I caught her on the living room 
floor where I really showed her what I could do. Somewhere in the 
living room, she wrapped her legs around my waist and told me to 
pretend that I was on a big pogo stick and I was going around the 
world.  So we fucked everywhere as I carried her bouncing and 
thrusting through her house.

Was it worth all of the trouble so far?  Hell yes.

Was it the best that I ever had?

No!

It was the second best.

That's because she promised that the next time would be the best 
so we went ahead and rated this fucking as the second best. Yeah, 
she took me places where I've never been.  I thought that my ex-
wife was pretty decent in bed but Tanya showed me that I hadn't 
lived yet. Tanya caused every nerve in my body to come alive. I 
don't know if it was her missing husband who taught this fantastic 
woman how to please a man but if I ever meet the man that taught 
Tanya how to be such a total woman in bed, I'm going to shake 
that man's hand. Even Richard was so happy that he was telling 
me to just let him rest.  

My most wonderful fucking session with Tanya lasted several 
hours until the wee hours of the morning when I was awakened 
from a deep sleep by her crying. She was sitting up in bed with her 
legs pulled tightly back against her body. Her face was streaked 
with tears.

I've seen my ex-wife do the same thing. Hormones.  Or she 
suspected that I was cheating on her.  Or she caught me cheating 
on her.  Or a million other things.  Women cry for the most stupid 
reasons.

So I tried to be diplomatic. "Come here and suck on Richard a 
little.  He'll make you feel better."

Right after she slapped me, she ordered me out of her house.  I 
tried to talk to her.  You can't talk to a woman who is crying and 
then reaches for a pistol kept in a nightstand.  I got the hell out of 
her house.  Luckily for me, my leather biker duds were still out by 
the pool where we undressed.  So I put them on and started 
walking down the street that she lives on.  I was about a hundred 
feet away when her front porch light came on and I heard her call 
my name.

Going back to her, I was hoping that she was back to normal so 
that we could go back to bed.  I wasn't looking forward to walking 
home in the wee hours of the morning and looking like one of the 
Village People.

She was wearing a robe and threw some keys to me when I got 
about twenty feet away from her.  Her comment told me that it was 
over for the night and I was on my own. "I'm sorry.  I can't explain 
why I feel the way that I do.  Take the jeep and drive yourself 
home."

A couple of minutes of trying to talk common sense to her only 
resulted in her marching inside her house and slamming the door. 
I knew it had to be hormones because I hadn't known her long 
enough to be caught cheating on her yet.

*********************************************



Chapter 5 - She's the boss again

She wouldn't answer my phone calls. The guard at her 
neighborhood gate said that he wasn't to allow me onto the 
grounds at this time.

So I stayed in my office and worked.  Or tried to work.  The 
memory of her sweet pussy, succulent boobs, kissable mouth and 
mischievous green eyes kept forcing to the front of my thoughts.  I 
tried to find where Lenora disappeared to after she arrived in LA 
but it was a dead end.  So much of a dead end, that I assumed 
that the Lenora Johnson identity was dropped and our wanna-be 
woman picked up another identity.  But which one out of the 
millions of identities in LA at that time?

So I backtracked a little. Yes, there is a little town called Trinidad 
Colorado, which is one of the foremost sex change hospitals in the 
world. I concentrated on getting a peek at their records to see if 
that was why Darci hung around a cabin for almost a month after 
a two-week period of inactivity.  I reasoned that surgery was 
performed in Trinidad and afterwards that the new woman stayed 
in the hospital for two weeks, then went to a private cabin for a 
month to give her new body time to heal.

So I called the hospital.

Struck out.  Patient confidentiality.  Must have a court order and 
their lawyers would contest it.

So I used my other phone in case they had caller-id and called 
back using a high fasetto voice and pretended that I was interested 
in having the procedure for myself. They took my post office box 
and promised to send me an informational packet.

Having struck out for the time being on that lead, I started the 
tedious task of trying to identify ownership of bank cards to see if 
there was any more shared accounts with names other than the 
ones that I already knew.  It's very boring work and the potential 
for success is low but it was the only means to try to find my 
missing quarry.

After three days of no communication with Tanya and doing 
nothing but striking out on everything, I was about ready to re-
examine all of my theories about everything.  Except that I was 
going to keep the theory that Life Sucks.

My beautiful and sexy boss kicked me out of her bed in the middle 
of the night for no reason and then she won't talk to me or see me. 
My work so far had only resulted in a semi-trail that occupies 
about ten weeks after Greg's disappearance. And only three of 
those weeks were travel by someone using Greg's identification 
with the rest being assumptions that Greg was traveling under 
false identification and wearing female garments.

Picking up my printed copies of the photographs of Greg again, I 
began re-looking at each photograph for any clue.  Any 
birthmarks?  Any identification in the photograph.  Where were the 
photographs taken?  Who took the photographs? Any adulteration 
of the photograph to hide something that anyone didn't want to be 
seen?

And that's when I got my lucky break.  I had looked at those 
photographs hundreds of times but this time I saw something in 
one of the photographs that I hadn't seen before.  Oh, I had seen it, 
but I hadn't really examined it.  It was a bad photograph of the face 
because the camera was focused on the erect cock straining within 
pantyhose. But something about the faint smile on Greg's heavily 
lipstick-covered lips and faint glimmer in those brown eyes was 
ringing a bell with me.

Grabbing a printed copy of my actions and results so far, I threw it 
in a folder with the photograph that I had just been examining.  
Going down to my parking lot, I jumped in her jeep that I was still 
driving because she hadn't let me return it yet.

When I was about a mile from the gate going into her ritzy 
neighborhood, I called her number knowing that I was going to get 
nothing but an answering machine.  "Hey, it's me.  I'm almost to 
your gate.  I'm coming to see you on official business.  I think I 
know where to find Greg and want to know what you want me to 
do next.  He's gone undercover and is living with a different 
identity.  I don't want to harass him unless you give the order.  So 
call down to your local rent-a-cop and tell him to let me in.  See 
you in five minutes."

When I pulled up the gate and the cop just waved me through 
without any hassle, I knew that she got my message.

Parking the jeep in her driveway as if I was going to also leave in it, 
I knocked on her front door. I would see what it was like to enter 
her house through the main entrance for the first time.

All of our life, we built images of people.  For Tanya, I had an image 
of a sophisticated socialite who always looked perfect.  So when 
she opened her door wearing a fuzzy bathrobe and her long blonde 
hair slicked back as if she had just got out of the shower, it 
surprised me. While she didn't look like a viva with her plain 
makeup-free face, she still looked like one very pretty woman.

However, I was there on business so I treated her the same as I 
would treat any employer who I just got out of either a bed or the 
shower. Showing her the folder in my hand containing all of my 
notes so far, I tried to set the stage for what I was getting ready to 
say.  "Mrs. Browning, I'm here on official business. Several days 
ago, you hired me to find Greg Browning, your husband who has 
been missing for two years.  I'm here to tell you that I've found 
him. Mrs. Browning, you were born Greg Browning and about two 
years ago you assumed the identity of Tanya Browning after going 
through a complex surgical procedure to turn your male body into 
a female body."

She turned around and walked into her living room giving me a 
silent approval to follow her.  Shutting the door, I stepped a few 
feet inside the room so that I was facing her as she sat on a couch. 
She didn't say a word as she busied herself with lighting a cigarette 
and we just stared at each other for a second until her cigarette 
was glowing. Taking it out of her mouth and using it as a pointer, 
she started asking a stream of questions. "Interesting theory, 
Marlowe.  If what you are suggesting is true, why would I do that?"

"Why is a question that I haven't determined the answer to yet. I 
just know that you did it.  With your money, you created a phony 
identity in college for Tanya and began creating a false trail so that 
it looked as if she always existed. Then you arranged for a small 
chapel to verify that you married her, which could have been 
accomplished simply by you walking into the chapel with a woman 
hired on the strip.  No photographs and no witnesses. Then the 
married Browning's lived a quiet life, staying out of the social 
scene. That is, it was a quiet life until Greg disappeared and a few 
weeks later Tanya suddenly started going everywhere and 
becoming friends with the rich and famous. Tanya began living the 
life that Greg wanted for himself but couldn't because he was a 
man who desperately wanted to be a woman."

Blowing a smoke ring toward the ceiling and staring at the smoke 
ring, Tanya's voice was very soft as she continued to examine my 
theory.  "I assume that you're basing part of your theory on the 
fact that Greg and I are roughly the same size. I'm surprised 
because I thought that after spending the night in bed with me the 
other night that you were thoroughly convinced that I was one 
hundred percent real woman. I'll admit that I had surgical help 
with my boobs and had a small bump removed from my nose, but 
surely you don't think that my perfect ass and pussy were also 
created in an operating room?"

"You had more surgical help than you're admitting.  The nose 
reduction changed the total shape of your face and the cheekbones 
plus lip modification changed everything about your face except for 
the general oval shape. I'm willing to bet that your gleaming green 
eyes won't be green but will be brown after you take out your 
contacts. As for validating the origin of the explicit female body 
parts below your waist, I'm not an expert but I'm willing to bet that 
a doctor friend of mine could find evidence of surgical modification 
in a through examination."     

Easing up from her reclined position on the couch, she slouched 
across the room to a small bar. Opening the small refrigerator, she 
pulled out two beers. Coming back across the room, she offered me 
one, then sat back down on the couch as she popped her beer. 
After taking a sip of her beer, she nodded her head gently as if 
acknowledging my theory. "What gave me away?  My voice? The 
fact that I had to add a little lubrication to my vagina to keep it 
from getting too dry too soon?"

Popping my beer and sitting down in a chair across from her, I 
allowed myself the luxury of sipping on the beer now that I had 
received confirmation that my wild-guess theory was correct. 
Thank god that I'm so paranoid or I would never have associated 
the faint Mona Lisa smile in that one photograph of Greg with the 
same smile from the beautiful woman who I had been lusting so 
heavily over during the case.

Pretending that I had more facts than I did, I tried to bluff her into 
giving me a total confession first. "Suppose you tell me why you 
staged a disappearance, then successfully jumped into the life of a 
non-existent wife then hired me to find Greg?"

Hearing her husky voice now, I realized that the slight huskiness 
was a result of trying to make a male voice sound feminine. 
"Everything that I told you about Greg was true.  Part of it was 
planned because I had this longtime wild dream to come back as 
my non-existent wife.  That way I could enjoy the fruits of my 
labors while everyone thought that I was a natural woman.  I 
could've done it by just having a simple sex change but I didn't 
want people looking at me and whispering 'that used to be a man'. 
I wanted them to look at me as if this had always been me. So I 
created a couple of fake identities in college and had all of the 
appropriate records to create a false identity. Then I hired a 
prostitute to pretend to be Tanya just long enough to get a 
marriage license. After that, it was easy. My neighbors saw what 
appeared to be a woman coming and going from my house as well 
as Greg who would frequently stop by to talk to them in his man 
persona. Then Tanya went on vacation while Greg disappeared. 
While I was healing from the surgery, I was very pleased that the 
surgical results turned out better than promised. While I was 
traveling to all those places, I was also having some very extensive 
modifications made to my face so that I had the pretty face that I 
should have been born with. Then I went to Trinidad and became a 
total woman. So I became Tanya returning home to discover that 
her husband was missing. I had all of the identification so the 
police never checked me out. After two years of successfully living 
my lie, I wanted to see how good I had covered my tracks.  So I 
hired you to try to find me, never suspecting that you would 
actually be able to trace me as far as you did.  I was very surprised 
when you showed up in my back yard when I was sunbathing so I 
decided to play games with you.  I had noticed your obvious 
infatuation with me in your office so I played the Vamp so that you 
would be certain that I was a real woman. After I seduced you into 
sticking a lotion slick finger inside me to verify that I had a realistic 
looking vagina, I knew that you would be permanently convinced 
that I was a totally natural woman."

Taking a sip of her beer without removing the cigarette from the 
corner of her mouth, she continued her story.  "Only thing is that I 
enjoyed it as much as you enjoyed it.  You see, to you I was a 
Vamp. The same character that I always thought that I would be 
back when I was daydreaming about eventually