Private Dick

A phone was ringing; he couldn't hear it, he only felt the vibrations through the desk; all he could hear was his blood in his ears and the faint moaning of the dame who's luscious thighs were currently clamped to his head as his tongue massaged her clit.

She relaxed a little, releasing his head, her climax subsiding, the phone now audible but he didn't care about that now; his tongue re-entered her glistening pussy and he went back to work on her.

Normally, he didn't take payment-in-kind, but this girl was special. She'd come to him three weeks ago for help; her husband was cheating on her and she wanted to know why, and who with. She'd fluttered her eyelashes at him, tears brimming in her beautiful puppy dog eyes and his heart melted. He desperately needed the cash and he'd given her a fair price for the job at the start, but she'd been left penniless and wanted to repay him for the work he'd done.

She stood, her long leg visible through the thigh high slit in her dress. He was trying not to stare, but failed miserably. She moved, causing the dress to shift and her creamy white thigh came into view. His eyes travelled the length of her leg and his mind filled in the blanks at the top. He found his imagination sorely lacking when, ten minutes later she was sat on the edge of his desk, her panties discarded and her dress bunched around her waist as his tongue slowly travelled the length of her smooth, waxed slit.

Now, as she writhed on the desk, her manicured nails scratching into the wood as his tongue performed wonders that her late husband never could, he knew he'd been right not taking cash. Her hand grasped at his hair as her thighs gripped his head, another orgasm sweeping through her as his tongue delved deeper, lapping up her juices as her body went rigid, then relaxed again.

He continued his onslaught as she reclined on the desk. He inserted a finger into her tight pussy and she groaned, his tongue still working her clit as he slid in another finger, beckoning her towards another screaming orgasm. He raised his head and massaged her clit with his thumb; she reached down, grabbed hold of his hand and forced him deeper. Breathless guttural moans urging him faster, harder, more, don't stop, no, no, no, yes!

She lay on the table, panting; then she sat up and shuffled daintily to the edge of the desk. She pushed him backwards into the office chair as she dismounted and stood, her gorgeous, smooth thighs either side of his hairy ones. She'd performed fellatio on him earlier, draining him and swallowing what he had to offer, and he'd considered the debt paid then, but she'd been neglected for too long and needed satisfying. He'd lifted her onto the desk, removed her panties, and given her three mind blowing orgasms.

Now, she stood astride him, holding her dress around her waist. His cock was painfully hard as she lowered herself onto him; his head parting her labia and her tight pussy gripping him as she slowly impaled herself on his cock. She shuddered as he stretched her, filling her like no other before as he revelled in her tightness. He thought he could feel her pulse through the walls of her vagina as she ground herself into his lap.

Her husband had been rich, but it wasn't his money she was interested in. He was undoubtedly handsome, charming, witty and debonair, and that was what had attracted her. There had obviously been a prenup; her in-laws hadn't trusted her and she hadn't really cared for them either. After two years of marriage he'd grown distant from her and wanted his old partying lifestyle back; it was then she'd discovered he was cheating on her, and, as it turned out, with one of the bridesmaids from their wedding. They'd been at it on the wedding day, and almost every day since returning from the honeymoon.

Her husband had died in a car wreck; he'd lost control, racing to his lover's aide after finding out she'd been questioned by a detective, the same detective who was now taking alternative payment from his widow.

She threw her head back, breathing heavily as her breasts were caressed and her nipples sucked; the chair creaking rhythmically as she bounced on the rigid tool within her. He reached around, grasping her buttocks as she rode him, her arms around his neck. She hugged him tightly as she felt warmth spreading upwards from her quivering pussy, through her body, releasing itself in a scream as her climax took hold.

He picked her up, his hands cupping her firm arse cheeks as she wrapped her legs around him, her arms still tight around his neck. Her back to the wall, he thrust himself inside her, she pleaded for him to fuck her harder as her nails dug into his back.

Still clinging to his neck, she dropped her legs from his waist and turned towards the window. Bending over, she gripped the sill as he entered her from behind. She wanted to feel every inch of him, and he obliged. He fucked he at an excruciatingly slow pace, she thought it was never going to end until she felt his hair on her anus, then he withdrew and entered her again.

He could feel her tightening; preparing herself for another shuddering orgasm as he quickened his pace and felt his own climax building. She cried out as he slammed into her; she felt his semen pumping into her and she raised her head, urging him to fill her.

There was a tinkle of breaking glass, the window in front of him cracked and she slumped forwards. Her head was on the window sill, a pool of blood spread slowly as he looked up and spied the woman he'd interrogated the night before, in a building across the street.

He saw a puff of smoke from the barrel of the rifle she was holding, the window shattered, then nothing.

Having lost her lover and the fortune she'd been promised, she felt there was nothing left to lose. She wanted revenge for what she saw as her lover's murder; the detective who'd found her, and the bitch who'd sent him, were going to pay; and pay dearly. As she dismantled the rifle and packed it away, she felt at peace. Sirens rose in the distance as she closed the door and slipped, unnoticed, into the street below.