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Mary was restless. She was going out with Martine Petracca but he was late. He was a master’s degree candidate at the local university and time did not always matter to him. They were scheduled for an early dinner, maybe a movie and return here to her mother’s home late in the evening. It was too bad Marty always seemed to be late. I guess I should not be too choosey since I am six years older than Marty she thought. At twenty nine she was by common custom and “old maid”, but she still had hopes and besides she still liked sex. That had been one of the problems working in the Washington D.C. area; too many men there were looking for a sweet innocent virgin.

Mary had a couple of worthless romances and when she was forced to change offices in her Government job she decided to return home to North Carolina. He father died the year before her return and her mother complained that she needed someone to live with her. So, she had come home. That had been two years ago and here it was 1960. Presently cars had only a radio, heater, power steering and a bench seat. You could still cuddle up with each other in the front, no shifter or console to restrict movement as would come to be the vogue in a few years. You could also go to a drive-in theater, watch a movie or cuddle up and maybe have sex.

Since that time she did not have a real companion until she met Marty. She was feeling very lonely at the time since she had hoped to meet someone upon returning home. She realized she had a couple of physiological problems with men in that she was a bit demanding, discriminating, and opinionated but she felt someone would look beyond that. Also that she was five-foot six, a bit tall for a woman, did not help.

Then she met Marty in the insurance office where she worked. He was coming back for a semester as a graduate student and wanted some health coverage while in school. The city suburbs where she lived was the home of the state university. Many students wanted short term coverage while at school. When they returned home their parents insurance covered them.

Marty arrived twenty minutes late, but that was not unusual, he generally arrived late. Her mother was tolerant of him but showed she thought Mary could do better. However, she mostly kept her opinion to herself.

They spent an enjoyable evening together and on the way home, he had an older six year old 1954 car his parents had let him use while in school, he first suggested they park somewhere.

“I really do not think that is a good idea. Anyplace we choose would be too public or the police know of and come to disturb us.” She knew what he was thinking, it had happened before. After an evening of dinner and a movie it was time for loving, or sex.

“Why do not we come back to my place? By time we get there mother will be in bed on the second floor and we can use the couch in the living room which would be more comfortable than making love in the car.”

So they agreed to return home but as he drove he placed his hand on her leg inside her thigh and close to her crotch. Periodically he gave her a little squeeze. The presence of his hand softy rubbing stimulated her. As he drove there were a couple things he said that worried her a bit. Her sex making had been limited to mostly groping and masturbation. Nothing too far out and so far in the three sessions she had with Marty they had not gone beyond removing all their clothes and fingering each other.

Now he suggested something that reached beyond their present boundaries. “When we get home I would like to lick your sex but before I do so I want to shave you down there. Your hair would get into my mouth and that will be annoying.”

“If you did that there would be nothing to cover me.”

“What difference would that make, No one sees you there except when you are naked, we make love, and the few times your mother would when you shower.”

“It would mean being uncovered and my slit would show all the time.”

“I would like that.”

“I know you would. You would like me naked all the time.”

“One other thing Mary, since I am offering to do you orally I would like you to return the favor by taking my penis in your mouth until I come off.”

“You mean you want me to swallow your come?”

“Something like that. It would seem more like having sex where I put myself inside you, unless you would prefer doing that?”

“That is too chancy. You do not want to use protection and I do not need to become pregnant or run the risk of being so.”

“You know it would be more enjoyable doing what I propose. Let’s wait until we get back to your place to decide.”

On the rest of the ride back to her mother’s Mary thought over what Marty had suggested. Having oral sex with him intrigued her but the shaving was disturbing and the oral part with him was disgusting. She had never contemplated doing sex that way and it seemed a bit extreme. She could not imagine what his penis would feel or taste like once in Ankara escort her mouth. What would she so with his come, swallow it? They had not used anything before and she was sure he did not mean to use anything now. She rode in silence thinking of what it would be like. No matter what she thought about how good it would feel to have his tongue inside her teasing her clitoris, the shaving part still worried her. She had never shaved herself before, even for physical exam. The more she thought about it the more her feelings became mixed. It would be nice to have someone do oral sex to her but the nakedness of her public area disturbed her.

When they returned Mary’s mother was in bed upstairs. The house was an old converted farm house now surrounded by the more contemporary homes of the housing development that had grown up around it. They entered the house through the main doorway leading to a foyer. On the right was a doorway to the kitchen and small bathroom off the kitchen. Ahead was the stairway to the second floor and on the left was the entrance to the living room, or parlor, which was a large long rectangular room with a couch at the back wall, a fireplace in the far wall and various other chairs scattered around plus a TV located in the corner of the near wall.

Mary felt the need of a toilet and directed Marty to wait for her in the parlor and she headed through the kitchen to the bathroom. She sat on the toilet, her dress up, her panties on the floor, feeling the warm fluid flow out of her and thinking as she looked down at herself how dark and scrounge her pubic area looked with all its black hair some of which extended up onto her lower stomach. Her crotch was a not too enticing place and Marty had hinted he would do her orally if she let him shave her. It really made her consider his proposal to shave. Her mind wondered what it would feel like not to have any hair. Everything would be clean, the skin smooth and her vagina lips now partially concealed would be completely exposed. Exposing herself was what concerned her. Supposing someone besides Marty was to see her, what would they think? Putting that thought aside reached down, removed her shoes, panties and socks from around her feet, stood up and pulled her skirt down. She wore no slip but there was a bra and she thought of that for moment. Placing the rest of her clothes in the hamper she stood for second then unbuttoned her blouse and reaching around back unhooked her bra and dropped it into the hamper along with the rest of her clothes. She shrugged into her blouse and without any underwear she walked to the parlor and Marty. He would be gratified to find her without her underwear. It would be a nice surprise. The only thing she had not reconciled is would she take his penis in her mouth. That seemed a bit extreme.

She crossed the kitchen passed through the flyer and entered the parlor. Walking without underwear made her feel free and at liberty, something like she felt naked and she realized she was nearly naked. Her nipples brushed against the cloth of her blouse stimulating them so they stood out and showed through the material. The feeling excited and brought some anxiety, she had never done this before, even in the previous encounters with men. It was a new experience and so far she felt excited about showing off her lightly covered body.

The room was long and narrow with two small windows in the side wall, a fireplace on that wall and a larger window in the front wall. All had shades drawn and the lighting was dim so there was little chance of anyone outside looking in and her mother, the only threat to what was going on in the living room, was asleep on the second floor. If she did wake Mary hoped she has the good sense not to interfere.

She crossed the room; Marty was relaxed on the couch against the far wall. He held out his hands as she entered and she settled in beside him. He had noticed her nipple outline against the blouse and wondered if she had anything underneath.

They snuggled up close and he began to explore first her back, then the front and decided she had very little on, especially on top. He always had been bold with her even though they had not gone too far, but this time, maybe it was different. He opened each button slowly and caressed her breasts softly at first, then a little harder. He squeezed them with the palm of his hand and she squirmed against him. She knew she was inviting him to go on.

He pulled the blouse out of her skirt, pulled it off her shoulders and stripped it off her. Reaching behind her at her waist he opened the button at the top of her skirt and eased the zipper down all the way. His had felt in under the skirt and he felt the crevice at the top of the behind. She had no panties on. He began to wonder how far she would go. While she was in the toilet he had gone back to the car and rescued the razor and it was sitting in its case on the end table. She had said nothing about Ankara escort bayan it and he now assumed she had not seen or did not pay attention to it.

When he pulled on the skirt she lifted and he drew down the garment, slowly passing it down her thighs, over her knees, then to the floor where he removed it and threw it on the floor in the middle of the room. He did not want her to have easy access to it in case she changed her mind on how things were going.

Mary had laid there feeling the softness of the cloth leaving her body and did not know how she really felt about being eventually naked. There had thoughts of anxiety, excitement and submission. She wondered if he would shave her. In the present state she just might allow it. It would be different have no hair down there. He was removing his clothes and in seconds would be naked against her.

Slowly and lightly he passed his hands followed by his head, kissing and dragging his tongue over her soft smooth skin as he went. He began with her breast then went lower to her tummy into her pubic area. As he did this she had completely opened up her legs submissively giving him full access to her. Using only his hand he squeezed and partially opened the lips of her sex and caressed her inside. He kept this up until she moved in response to his motion, and finally he found her button. At that point he started her up the slope to a climax only three quarters the way up he stopped and left her. She laid there disappointed, feeling the sensation dying within her and wishing he would go on. It was disappointment like this that made her wonder why he did not he finish what he started.

He was gone only a few seconds when he returned with something small, with a “T” like handle in his hand. Without asking he passed the device over her open upper thighs, then lightly over the lips of her sex but only on the left side. She felt the pressure of the device against her skin and without seeing it she knew he had a razor in his hand. She could feel its results as it glided swiftly over her skin. He started between her legs on the left side of her thighs, then across her lower belly to the right side of her sex and thighs. When he stopped and looked at her she knew all the hair was gone. It felt strangely different, as though a roller had moved over her skin and removed the blanket that was there. He now took her right hand and passed it over her crotch. The skin was silky smooth, something like what you would expect a baby’s skin would feel. The touch was expected and unexpected all at the same time.

Then he dropped his head between her legs, moving his tongue along the now bare skin, licking softly and forecasting what was to come. Then he entered her sex with his tongue, sliding all the way up inside her and rubbing her button at the same time. He kept going, penetrating her deeper and deeper while thrashing her button, until gasping, she reached the top of her climax. When she indicated she had enough he eased up and sat next to her.

It had been the most satisfying sexual experience she had ever felt. She was relaxed, calm and restful now it was over. Laying there calming down she wondered what was next.

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

A few days passed before they went out again, this time like those before they had dinner at a restaurant and went to a movie only this time he took her to his apartment near the university campus. It was a rather Spartan place with little furniture, an efficiency apartment with a bed and a kitchen as part of the living space. It had two straight backed chairs, a table and the bed all in the same room. She looked around and there was a couch, a couple of upholstered chairs a small table with two additional chairs. Rather an unadorned place. He motioned her to the couch and asked her something totally unexpected, “How would you like to be spanked? I would really like to spank you and I believe you would really like it. It sensitizes your behind and pubic area simultaneously.

Mary was aghast. She had not expected this. She thought he would want sex like the last time with her doing it for him in her mouth. She was not completely sold on doing it for him in the mouth and felt like refusing if he asked. But this spanking idea was new and shocking. While she was thinking about it he sat next to her and began rubbing her back and tickling her around the ears as he opened the buttons on her blouse. Next he pulled the garment out of her skirt. He kissed her full on the lips with his tongue sliding over her teeth but not entering. She felt her clothes loosening up, the bra catch on her back opened and not thinking she let it slip off her arms. Next was her skirt, it became fully unbuttoned in back then pulled out from under her and was sliding down her legs. With her shoes and ankle socks removed she was almost naked. After he lifted her sliding the panties over her anus and down her legs she was naked.

She generally expected Escort Ankara this part but he roughly pulled her up, turned her and pulled her arms behind her as he lifted her from the couch and directed her to one of the straight chairs she was startled. She tried to resist but he firmly positioned her at the back of one of the straight chairs and proceeded to tie her feet to its legs. At first she did not realize what he was doing and he managed to tie one leg before she reacted. Although she struggled he held her in place until he had both of her ankles tied to the chair. Bending her over the chair back face down he hit her twice, once of each cheek, fast and quick. The blows made both sides of her behind sting and left a sore spot. Mary did not feel she was going to like this. It was far worse than the shaving, which did have a pleasing effect, and the oral sex which had followed even if it did have a funky taste. There was no pain like now. This activity made her behind sting and she had not bought into that. After a couple more whacks to each of her cheeks she straightened up.

“I think I had enough.”

“Take just a couple more. It will enjoy the sex better.”

The feeling in her behind did not make her feel inclined to go on. Although she was reluctant she did not want to disappoint him. Being with him was entertaining and perhaps would lead to something more permanent so she let it go on.

“Alright, but do not hit me so hard. When you strike with full force it does more than sting.”

“Okay, just four more strokes.”

Reluctantly she nodded her head and bent forward again and he hit her hard enough to make it sting again only this time it left a slightly erotic feeling in her vagina. She had not expected to enjoy this but the feeling was exciting and she felt she would let him proceed.

“This will be the last two,” he said and he hit her full force in the same spot as before making her skin smart and sore. She wondered if her behind was red. Her cheeks were more stimulated now, but feeling sore and bruised. Surprisingly her vagina spasm and she and a bit reluctantly she respond to the burning feeling in her butt. Thinking it would be the last blow she was about to relax when he hit four more times making her butt really burn but somehow the sensation did not sting like did when he started. She did not want to admit it but she was beginning to almost like what was being done to her. It certainly was different from plain sex and she wanted it to continue to see if it would arouse her more.

However, the next sensation was totally unexpected. He rubbed his hand over her anal opening, first with a smoothing liquid before he inserter his finger. As he probed the now lubricated and spanking stimulated anus he the opening wider and the penetration caused pain again. The next thing she felt was small hard slippery object being inserted into her far up inside. The feeling was both gratifying and petrifying. She had no idea what he was doing or what he might do. In seconds he removed the object and started to enter her with his penis. He felt enormous but was softer and more pliable than the object he had used initially. Slowly he moved in and out of her opening, filling her tunnel and stretching her each time. The discomfort continued filling her insides like huge ram forced into her. It made her try to resist him until she found if she relaxed the discomfort eased. He moved faster and faster inside her and she knew in the end when he had come.

This was not her preferred way to have sex but at least there was no worry about making a mistake and becoming pregnant. She could relax and not have that worry, but soreness from the stretching was another thing. She would be careful next time not to let him surprise her. She might do it again, just like the oral sex and the shaving, but not before she thought it over more thoroughly. She did admit to herself she liked the clean smooth skin and would continue to shave herself. But for now she had enough and before he could continue she stood up straight indicating it was time to stop, the evening was over. He kept feeling her body, sliding his hands lightly, soothingly, and lovingly over her the skin on her legs, behind and back as he released her. They dressed and he drove her home in silence. There was little to say and she wanted reflect on the evening. Her anus sill tingled from the effects of the spanking and the anal sex and she still felt lightly excited all the next day.

She was hoping for something of a more permanent association with Marty but it would depend on what he did when after the semester was over. His classroom work would be over and he could write his theses anywhere. She wondered if she should confront him with an alternative or just let things ride.

The next time they went out he again surprised her with a suggestion. He had some friends who had a home on the edge of town he had at times played cards with and when a third couple showed up they often played strip poker. One of the girls had become pregnant and they had dropped out so would she be willing to join them as the third couple.

“Does it mean I will have to take off everything?”

“You might, it depends on how the cards run and the skill of the other players.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

The click click of heels on the wooden floor outside announced a dame. I’d pay attention when I was good and ready.

“Kick the door shut behind you. Damn thing, it sticks.” I waved my hand vaguely towards the door, catching a flash of a red dress coming through it.

I turned to the back page of the newspaper to check the horses. The fifth at Rosedale might make a buck, and I made a mental note to see Lenny.

I heard the drag of the visitor’s chair pulled across the floor and the soft swish of stockings as she sat, crossing her legs. I heard the snap of a lighter and smelled the tang of cigarette smoke. Lucky Strikes, menthol. Pushing the ashtray across the desk, I looked up.

To find myself looked over. The dame was a beauty, her lips scarlet, her eyes dark under the tilted brim of a pill-box hat. She dragged on her cigarette.

“You takin’ visitors, or just takin’ your time?”

Her voice was low and rough; a two pack a day gal, I guessed. Or too much whiskey on a southbound train. Whatever the cause, she sounded fine. Looked fine, too.

“You Arbogast, Daniel Arbogast?”

“That’s the sign on the door, Ma’am, so I must be.”

“You always got a smart mouth, Dan?”

“No, Ma’am. If the sign fits, wear it. You know what they say.”

She studied me with a steady eye, then blew a stream of smoke towards me. She leaned forward to ash the cigarette, spotting me an eyeful of a fine deep cleavage. I breathed in a drift of the smoke, catching at the same time a purple plum scent with a hint of musk.

“Femme Rochas?” I enquired, remembering a French girl in Paris who wore it with nothing else on.

“You do know what they say. I’m impressed, Dan. You know a gal’s perfume. I need a nose like that.” She sat back, then opened her purse and took out a photograph. “We can do business.”

“I figured that. A gal coming up in the elevator on a Tuesday afternoon can only mean business.”

She turned the photograph over, studying it. She ran a finger over its surface, then slid it across the table towards me. She tapped it twice with her forefinger, the nail painted red the same color as her lips.

“Who’s the boy?” I asked. He looked familiar. A good looking kid in a sharp suit, his hat pulled down rakish with a cheeky tilt and a smile in his eye. Kinda like a movie star, kinda like some punk in a two bit bar.

“Milo. Milo Jones, my kid brother. Was my kid brother.” She gazed at me steadily, her eyes gone darker, more severe. She stubbed out the cigarette. “I want you to find out who killed him.”

That’s why he looked familiar. I remembered a bad picture in The Times. The kid had been found dead in a movie theatre, a stiletto right through the seat he was sitting in, right through the back of his heart. You’d think him being a reporter, the damn paper could have found a decent picture. At least they didn’t show the corpse. Not in the paper, anyway.

“Tell me about him, this kid brother of yours.”

She could tell me about herself later, but this was business. I pulled a notebook towards me.

As she told me about Milo I watched her, the way she’d pause in the telling as if to gather her thoughts, or to conjure up a picture in her head. She’d stop talking, sometimes take a slow, dark-eyed look around the room, sometimes taking a longer time to light another cigarette.

After two smokes, I saw the routine. She’d turn the pack towards her, flip the lid with one finger, extract the cigarette with two. She’d take the smoke, place it in a precise place in the air, and at the same time pick up the lighter. Her eyes would go far away and I might as well not have been there. She’d click on the flame once to test it, twice to light the cigarette. She’d lick her lips twice to wet them, then take the first long drag.

Her breasts rose as she did so, filling full and high as she breathed the smoke in. She arched her neck to release that first drift of smoke up into the air, then turned her eyes to look back at me, contemplative.

I looked down at the notebook and wrote something in it. I’d read what I wrote later.

“What was he working on, Milo?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say.” She reached into her purse one more time and extracted a set of keys. “These are the keys to his apartment. And his car. Go see what you can find.” She pushed them across the desk, and her finger tips brushed mine. “You can drive a car, can’t you, Dan?”

I laughed. The dame sure knew how to measure up a man, and I decided I liked being measured.

She smiled at me with a tiny smirk on her lips but an honest crease in her eyes.

“What are your rates, Dan? I’ll write you a check, and spot you twenty for expenses.”

I told her, and she wrote out a check for twice the amount, signing her name with a curl of her cigarette hand. Ruby Jones.

“It’s a pleasure, Ma’am, to meet you.”

“You know my name now, Dan. You should use it.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

She laughed, with a bright look in her eye.

“Walk me out and whistle me a cab. You can whistle, can’t you, Dan?”

It was my turn to smile. Ankara bayan escort I pushed my chair back and walked around the desk to ease her chair back too. Ruby stood, and in her heels was near as tall as me. Shapelier though, with more curves than the Santa Monica mountain highway, curving down to the sea.

She took my arm and we walked out the door. She kicked it shut. “Damn thing, it always sticks.” She’d remembered.

Outside, the street was busy, and it didn’t take long to spot a Yellow Cab. Ruby climbed in and wound the window down. She looked up at me.

“Say, do you mix business with pleasure, Dan? Any time?”

“Sometimes, Ma’am.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied.

“What are you starin’ at, fool?” she admonished the driver. “Just drive the damn car.”

As the cab moved off, Ruby’s black gloved hand rose up from the window in a first farewell. I lit my own cigarette, tilted my hat against the sun, and set off down the side-walk.

* * * *

That evening I made my way to Milo’s apartment down near Venice. Police tape criss-crossed over the door, denoting a crime scene. It wasn’t, but the cops were too lazy to tidy up after a quick search. I was banking on really lazy cops, taking five minutes to search the place when they should have taken at least ten. Deadbeats, the lot of them. It was no wonder Miss Jones thought a private eye would find out more.

I cased the joint, but all seemed clear. I’d parked my old Ford a block away, figuring the walk would allow me to spot anyone watching – but why would they? But I was quick up to the porch, dodging the street lights, keeping in the shadows.

I let myself in and clicked on my flashlight, angling it down so the beam hit the floor. I looked around, then methodically went through each room, taking anything that struck me as odd out to the kitchen table. Not much struck me as odd. Milo seemed to be a plain shooting kinda guy, most of his money going into clothes and neat shoes, a few books on a shelf: westerns and such, gun-slinger stuff, nothing daring.

Under the bed though, what’s this? I dragged out a cardboard box full of movie magazines: Photoplay, Modern Screen, a few other monthlies, and a couple of recent annuals. Flicking through them, I noticed slips of paper marking pages with stories and articles about Maven Quinn, one of the new glamour stars. Then I found a box full of newspaper cuttings. Seems our Milo had quite an interest in Miss Quinn, right up to the day he died. I took the papers to the kitchen, and settled down to read.

It was a typical story. A girl from a small prairie town with a pretty smile and big ambitions, and a one-way ticket west. Signed up to a small studio, she put on her dancing shoes and played herself, with hot lights and a sultry eye. The stories matched her up with her leading men: Geoffrey Clements, Robert Reid, some kid in a fast car. Jimmy someone, I didn’t know him.

I knew Reid was a nance, a belle boy, so that was the publicity department talking. They made a striking couple though, him in his crisp linen pants and cream jacket, her wearing straight pants too, the type with two rows of four buttons up the hips. They were meant to look friendly, maybe even lovers, but the photographers couldn’t hide their dislike for each other.

I wondered what Milo’s interest was, but I couldn’t find a notebook, nothing. I sat and pondered, turning pages in the magazines. Maven was a striking girl, a wave of blond hair hiding one eye, falling past her shoulders. She was a slim one, not hour-glass like Mae West or those Italian girls, but attractive all the same. I’d not seen any of her movies, so had no idea if she could act. Probably didn’t matter – her movies, so far, were Bs.

There was an oddity though. I flicked through a few more rags to make sure. Yes, that was it: she always wore tailored trousers, never a pretty skirt. Then I turned a page and there she was, sensational in a tight, clinging dress, split right up her thigh. On the arm of Aaron Philips, her producer. Fat guy, fat cigar, thin moustache, thin lips. Looked like an asshole, frankly, with a big car. You know what they say.

I turned the page, to find more pictures of Maven Quinn. I’d found a connection of sorts between Milo and the actress, close to an obsession, but not enough to kill the boy. I sat back in the chair and kicked my feet onto the table, still thinking. A story. Milo must have been onto a story, something about Maven Quinn.

I pushed back, and as I did so, my heel caught on a drawer handle on the table I’d not noticed before. I pulled it open, and found a strike of matches lying there, all by itself. It was one of those courtesy give-aways that you find on the bar in fancy clubs and lounges. The Peacock Club, wherever that was. I flicked the cover open, to see a telephone number written there in pencil.

I stood up and went out into the hall, where there was a call phone on the wall. I slung a nickel into it, and gave the number to the operator. She put me through.

“Miss Quinn’s Escort bayan Ankara residence. How may I help?”

I didn’t expect that. “Ahh, sorry, you’ve got 69 in the number. I’m after 66. Sorry to disturb.”

“Not a problem, sir. I hope you get through to your number. Goodnight.”

“Yes, thank you. Sorry again. Goodnight.”

I sat a while longer, pondering this and that and Maven Quinn’s number in Milo Jones’ kitchen drawer.

I resolved to visit the Peacock Club the next day, whenever that was. Milo had obviously been there. And, I guessed, so had Miss Quinn. I took Milo’s car. It was newer than mine, a DeSoto.

‘You can drive, can’t you Dan?’ I laughed out loud, hit my hand against the wheel, and was in a good mood all the way to my house. Ruby Jones in a tight red dress, hearing her voice in my head! I thought of that big long zipper down the back, and what I’d do with it.

* * * *

I made my way to the Peacock the next day, mid afternoon. I figured the staff would be pretty relaxed at that time, with a few early customers getting ready for the night. With a bit of luck, I’d find someone who recognised Milo, might spill the beans.

Turns out the club was just down from the Pantages Theatre, east of Vine. I went down narrow stairs into a long basement, dim and discreet. A glass topped bar ran down half of one side, a dozen tables down the centre, curtained booths opposite. Up the far end was a small stage and a dance floor. Half after three in the afternoon, the joint was deserted.

“Hat check,” I called out, to get some attention.

“Hold up,” a voice called back, “won’t be a moment.”

A slip of a thing entered the room from a door half way down, from the conveniences I guessed, or the kitchen. She was a tidy little cookie with her hair in a curl, wearing a flouncy dress. She came to the counter and looked up at me.

“You open?” I asked.

“Not really,” she replied. “Not yet. Getting ready though, before Miss Alexandra gets here.”

“Miss Alexandra? She the owner, or manages the place?”

“The owner. Or the boss, anyway. I’m never rightly sure. She ‘presides’, is what she does.”

I nodded. The girl was friendly, but I needed to arrive at my questions in a circular way, not ask them directly. I remained silent, an old trick, to see what she’d say next.

“Kittie,” she offered. “My name’s Kittie.” She glanced down at herself, and ran her finger along the top of a name badge, nicely angled on her left breast. Or perhaps it was the curve of her breast that was nice, and the badge went along for the ride.

“Arbogast, Dan Arbogast.” I lifted my hat, and passed it to her.

“Pleased to meet you, Mister Arbogast.” She did the tiniest curtsey. “Now, what can I get you?”

“Memories,” I replied, picking up a packet of strikes from a box on the counter. “Wondering if you ever remember seeing this fellow?” I placed the photo of Milo before her.

Kittie looked around quickly before turning the photograph over, pushing it back to me.

“Not here,” she whispered. “Take a booth. I’ll bring something over. Put that away.”

I went to one of the curtained booths, and a few minutes later Kittie brought me a coffee. She sat on the other side of the table.

“Show me again. The picture.”

I did, and she placed it on the table between us. She looked from the photograph up to me.

“What’s your connection? How do you know Milo?” Kittie’s lip trembled.

I decided half the truth was best with the girl, seeing the emotion bubbling up inside her.

“I don’t. I’ve been hired to find out who killed him.”

No need to mention Ruby – Kittie had her own version to tell, and I figured she’d tell me what she could.

“Milo. He was a good guy. Kind, funny. Made no sense, him being a reporter. He didn’t have the bite.”

“What was he working on, did he say?” I didn’t want to mention Maven Quinn, not yet, but a few prompts might encourage the girl.

“He wanted the big Hollywood exposé. A scandal and all. You know, Casey Clements, that sort of thing.”

“Was he on to anything, was he chasing anyone down?” I still didn’t want to mention Miss Quinn.

“I think…” Kittie paused. “Milo knew I knew where the ladies go, you know, private dance parties. He asked me to get him into one.”

I listened good.

Kittie continued. “Can you find out who killed him? Can I help you do that?”

The girl was pleading, her fingers nervously turning the cuff of her sleeve.

“Where did they go, the ladies?” I pushed a little harder. She wanted to help.

“La Casa Blanca, up in the hills. Invitations only, but regular, you know?”

I nodded, as if I did know. I didn’t, but I had fingers to count on, and I was getting pretty close to putting two and two together.

“And you, Kittie, where do you fit in to all this?”

“I’d waitress there. Alexandra knew I could keep my mouth shut, so she took me the first time. That’s how I got Milo in, as a waiter.”

But Milo got himself killed. I wasn’t sure if Kittie Bayan escort Ankara knew she was on edge of a dangerous circle, but here was a clue. I decided to keep quiet about Milo’s interest in Maven Quinn. The girl was a sweetie, obviously fond of the dead boy, and perhaps she was safer if she didn’t know too much.

I was different. I had a shooter, and was ugly enough to look after myself if things went sideways, but I didn’t want to look after this little girl when I did it.

“I guess I don’t pass as a waiter?”

Kittie responded with a cute little smile. “I’m guessing you don’t, Mister Arbogast. But I’m guessing you’d look smart in a tux. Maybe you could dress up nice and get in.”

She looked at me with clarity in her eyes. “But I’m thinking you might not fit in, if you know what I mean.”

“Huh!” I reckon I did know what she meant.

“Do you know if Milo had family?” I asked, as if I was changing the subject, getting back to Milo.

“I don’t think so. He never said.”

“When’s the next ladies’ dance?” I thought I might have a way in. I could bluff my way through the door pretty easy, with a dame in a tight dress on my arm.

Kittie told me.

“Listen,” I said, “if you see me there, you don’t know me, and I don’t know you. Capiche?”

“Capiche.” Kittie looked at me all knowing.

I got up to go, giving her a dime for the coffee. She walked with me to the hat check counter and returned my hat.

Her face hardened, all of a sudden. “Find them, Mister Arbogast. Find out who killed Milo.”

I nodded, tipping my finger to the brim of my hat. “Reckon I just might, Miss Kittie. Reckon I just might.”

I went up the stairs, then turned back.

“Milo. How come he came here, to the Peacock?”

“He liked that hep-cat music, the bop. He was quite the smooth dancer, but he’d sit mostly, right up front near the singer. He was more a dreamer, I’d say; the wrong type of boy to be a reporter.”

I nodded. “Uh huh.” I turned my head towards the far end of the club. “Might come and listen myself, sometime.”

“First one’s on the house, if you do.”

“That would be swell. Good to know ya, Kittie.”

She smiled. There was soft sorrow in her eyes, and her smile struggled through it. I touched her hand. Such a little thing in a big ugly world, it didn’t seem right.

“Find them, Dan.” Her voice was soft up the stairs. “Kill them, maybe.”

I went out into the afternoon light thinking, that’s two ladies want me to track down a killer. I’d better go clean my gun.

* * * *

That Saturday night Miss Jones and I drove up towards Benedict Canyon in Milo’s DeSoto, heading for La Casa Blanca. I’d told her what I’d found out from Kittie, and from Milo’s kitchen drawer.

“So you want me to scope out this Quinn broad, see if she’s easy around women, reluctant around men, is that it?”

“That’s the plan about now, Miss Jones. Milo seemed very interested in her, so we need to find out why she’s interesting.”

I glanced across at her, and I gotta say, Ruby sure looked interesting to my eye. But I had to keep my eyes on the road, my hands on the wheel. She was my employer right at that moment and, well, I had to be some kind of a gentleman. She gazed across at me with a smile. She’d seen my quick look.

“You gonna call me by my name yet, Dan? Or is it always going to be Miss Jones?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

She threw her head back with a delighted laugh, and leaned against the door of the car, looking at me. I glanced at her with my own grin.

“But look at you in your tux, Dan! Quite the dreamboat, with badness on your mind, I’d say.”

I’d say it too, but we had a job to do. I flicked the headlights on and gunned the car into fast corners. Fifteen minutes later we joined a short queue of cars making their way up a long drive into the Casa Blanca estate. We parked in between a big brougham and a neat little boat-tail speedster up from the coast.

“Look at the cute ass on that one,” said Ruby, as I opened the door to help her out of the car. I did, and she looked back at me as I did so. Kittie was cute, Ruby more voluptuous, but I wasn’t going to argue with the dame. I ran my hand over the smooth timber on the boat-tail as I walked past it.

“Come on, Dan, concentrate,” said Ruby, and she looped her arm through mine. Up ahead, I could see a footman by the door, checking what I assumed to be invitations.

“Let me do the talking,” said Ruby sotto voce as we reached the door.

“Ah goodness,” she exclaimed, “I’ve brought the wrong purse.” She ostentatiously flicked through it, faking a look for the invite. She held the eye of the guy on the door. “Will you look at that! I changed my mind at the last minute, changed my dress. This midnight blue shows off my figure much better, don’t you think?” Ruby kept walking, didn’t give the guy time to think, let along reply. I dragged along.

“He’s with me,” said Ruby, stroking my arm. “He’s my pet for tonight, aren’t you sugar?” She winked at the door guy, and we were inside.

“Well done,” I whispered, impressed with Ruby’s quick thinking.

“Hush, you,” she whispered. “Stay in role, babe. We might need to do some play acting.” She looked around at the various guests, a mix of elegant women and a variety of men, all flavours. “You might want to watch your back. There are boys here who’d fancy a big man like you.”

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Edited by Quinn McMullen

I never believed in Santa, well almost never. Not that I was ever a good little girl mind you. Still, Santa was pushed on me as a child. My parents force-fed me old Claymation cartoons like Rudolf and Santa Claus is Coming to Town. Don’t get me wrong, I love the Christmas season, there is definitely something magical about it. Why my parents got all nostalgic with different Christmas movies was beyond my comprehension.

I remember one Saturday morning bright and early my parents dressed me in an itchy red dress with red tights. The little black patent leather shoes hurt my feet something awful. They were taking me to see Santa at the mall. They were so excited. Their eyes twinkled and they couldn’t stop smiling and telling me how excited they were. They constantly tried bribing me to get me to act the way they wanted. This just felt like another one of those tools. Yeah, I’m damaged and bitter about it. They must have asked me a thousand times what I wanted for Christmas.

I told them and sure enough that’s the toy I got Christmas morning. The only problem was I had stumbled across all the gifts in Mom’s closet a few weeks before Christmas.

The next year I tested the myth by mailing a letter to Santa, telling him what I wanted for Christmas. I told no one and wasn’t surprised or even disappointed I didn’t get what I had asked for. The creepy old man who watches you when you’re sleeping, to scare young children into behaving in a particular way well it’s just grooming us to be sheep. He didn’t get twelve months of probation when he broke into MY house. Yeah, I was over it.

Flash forward a few years to when I was fifteen. My dad was in the Marine Corps. So, growing up we moved around a lot. My personality style was more the lone wolf type so I never really had friends. The Local VA had put up a sign looking for people who would babysit Christmas Eve for Moms who worked third shift while their husbands were deployed. It was suggested by my juvenile probation officer that I maybe show some initiative and “volunteer” to show that I was turning over a new leaf. It was also going to take three months off my probation, but no need to think about that. I took a class on babysitting and another on CPR and signed up.

Somehow, I ended up watching my Aunt Glinda’s kids. I mean I was surprised to learn she was in the program. I had never thought that maybe someone I knew needed help. Anyway, she was working third shift and her husband was deployed to Iraq. It was actually really nice to have her kids. I already knew them, and they really were little angels. They were all full of the ‘yes ma’ams’ and ‘yes pleases’. They said ‘thank you’ and picked up their own messes without being told. Hell, they cooked me dinner. They even got ready and put themselves to bed. This was going to be a super easy fifty bucks.

That night really did have a Christmassy feel to it. The house was modestly decorated. They had a real Christmas tree with colored blinking lights and homemade ornaments. The smell of pine wafted through the house every time a gust of wind blew. I looked out the window and the world had been transformed. The snow was still falling steadily. They lived in an old farmhouse that needed much repair. The smell and heat from the wood stove made me feel warm and comfortable. With the wind gusting the house made all kinds of strange noises and it made it difficult to fall asleep. It felt much spookier than it did festive once the lights were out.

That night while I was sleeping, I was awakened by a loud noise in the living room. As I lay there listening, I could hear the wind whistling and the squeaky old floors groaning with what sounded like heavy foot falls. Quick as a flash I got up out of bed and retrieved the Louisville slugger I had received for my eighth birthday. I never did like baseball, but I found the bat comforting when I was babysitting in bad areas. I crept into the room and to my dismay there was a man in a red suit messing around under the tree. Shit, I thought. We are getting robbed by Santa. There had been several reports that year of a homeless man breaking into houses and stealing gifts. This family was poor enough they didn’t need this donut puncher taking what little they had. So I choked up on the bat, crept across the room as quickly and quietly as I could manage. To my delight he never heard me. My dad would have been proud.

In true Bruce Willis fashion I swung with all my might crying out, “Merry Christmas motherfucker!”

Just before I connected he turned and I saw his face. His cheeks were rosy and there was a twinkle in his eye as he smiled. He then laid the finger of his right hand on Ankara escort his nose. My dad was a Marine and had always told me to swing through what I was trying to hit. I did, but when the bat connected with nothing I ended up spinning wildly out of control ending up ass over tea kettle. My mind not willing to believe what my eyes had just witnessed. The man had evaporated into thin air.

In shock, I searched the house from top to bottom several times. Sleep was lost on me that night. I thought about calling the police, but who the hell was going to believe me. When my aunt got home and the kids got up they were so excited for their new toys.

My aunt thanked me repeatedly for giving the gifts from Santa. She was so thankful and said it was a nice touch and she gave me an extra twenty bucks.

I just stood there with my mouth gaping still wondering if I had gone stark raving mad.

I spent the next three years trying to prove my sanity. I began babysitting for as many kids who had deployed family as much as possible. Then I made my own good and bad list. The bad kids were quickly crossed off my list. Then with my list of good kids I let all the parents know I was available Christmas Eve till Christmas morning.

That next year when I was sixteen, I had my pick of the litter so to speak. I babysat for a little girl who I was sure someday would be a saint. I waited up the whole night, but despite all the energy drinks, I ended up falling asleep. I didn’t see him, but there were mysterious gifts the next morning that were attributed to me. I was repeatedly thanked by the family for my generosity.

The following year I actually did see him. After the kids were in bed I had quickly picked up the house. It was only a little after midnight so I had run to the bathroom to do my business. When I walked back in the living room he was just there. He nodded and smiled warmly, then put his finger next to his nose. He winked just before disappearing. It felt like he knew I was there. I was distracted when he had shown up and it seemed almost like he had waited just long enough for me to see him.

The next year I was eighteen. I just had a feeling this was going to be the year. Then the mother I was sitting for came home early and so I was sent home before he came. That’s when I decided I needed to be a bit stealthier and craftier about the whole matter.

I have a sister who is two years younger than me, she is a saint compared to me. I am the tom boy; she is the princess. She also started doing the babysitting gig for Christmas only she doesn’t charge. Yeah, she is one of those. I figured the old man was probably watching my every move in his magic snowball or whatever he used to spy on people. Then I had an idea, I think I may have just discovered a loophole.

Now that I was nineteen, I told the VA I wasn’t going to be able to babysit this year. Next, I booked a flight for Miami at 11:30 on Christmas Eve. I was very vocal about it and told everyone every chance I could get that I was headed someplace warmer for Christmas.

I packed, then went and sat at the airport. Just about the time they started boarding my flight the weatherman came on the local news station and said that NORAD was tracking Santa’s flight. I didn’t know if it was real, the NORAD tracking him part, but I figured Santa had to be in the in air by then.

I told the airline I had a family emergency and so wasn’t going to be able to make my flight. I called my sister and told her I was going to buy them all dinner and have it delivered. She gave me the address where she was sitting. It was Gunny Miller’s place and I knew it well. I stopped and got pizza then drove to the house.

She was surprised and I told her I came to spend Christmas with her and help her with the kids. The kids were already in bed of course. I smiled at my plan; I had a feeling it was going to work. You see I figured if Santa was traveling, he wouldn’t know what I had just done. So, I figured he had no idea what I had planned. This time I was ready. Just after midnight my sister headed off to the guest room. I told her I would just crash on the couch. I set up my Go Pro and settled in under a blanket on the couch. I was going to prove to myself that I had really been seeing him. Then maybe I could use the video to blackmail him. There is stuff a girl my age needs, and that stuff isn’t cheap. So then I waited.

And wait I did. It was almost four in the morning and there had been no sign of him. I began to wonder if maybe these kids weren’t as good as we thought. I heard a creak then a soft thumping sound. I felt butterflies and nervous energy race through me. My heart was pounding. This was it, I Ankara escort bayan looked over and saw the little light on the Go Pro. Good it was still recording. I hit record on my phone then carefully set it on the table next to me in the position I had practiced early knowing it would be recording the whole room.

I threw the covers back and leapt up. It was the fucking dog! I glared at the mangy looking mutt.

I whispered, “Bad dog, bad.”

He just looked at me stupidly wagging his tail. Heart still racing I decided to hit the head. I looked at the little clock and it was 4:56. It wasn’t looking good. I washed my hands and splashed cold water on my face. I walked back into the living room and over to the tree looking to see if maybe I had just missed him. There were no packages from Santa. I turned around to walk back to the couch and almost shit my pants.

There he was, sitting on the couch eating a cookie with one hand, glass of milk in the other. There was a huge red velvet bag sitting on the floor just to his left. He gave me a smile and a wink. He patted his knee. I straightened at this and cocked my head.

“What, you want me to tell you what I want for Christmas?”

He laughed and it sounded like a ‘ho ho ho’ as he did.

“I have been waiting on you Amanda, sorry I missed you last year.” His tone was jovial and casual.

Paralyzed with emotion all I could do was glare at him.

Again, he patted his knee. This time I felt almost compelled to move forward. As I did his smile grew. He snapped his fingers, and I began to tingle all over. It was strongest at my feet. Looking down I watched my old Converse All-Stars begin to shimmer and warp. It looked like a heat mirage on asphalt during a hot summer day. The feeling grew to almost a tickle and my old ratty shoes changed into sparkling red heals. The shimmering effect continued up my body, my worn old jeans began to turn to red fishnets at my ankles and I watched as my pants seemed to melt away. The stockings stopped just below my navel as the shirt I was wearing disappeared only leaving bare skin. The magic continued and when it had reached the top of my head, I found myself standing there in nothing but red heals, fishnets, and a skimpy red bra with white piping. My hair had been braided and pulled back.

“That’s better,” He said, then patted his lap again.

Again I felt the oddest sensation of being compelled. I moved slowly toward him, trying to think of something to say. Then I snapped out of his spell.

“Your list is shit,” I said. “What’s up with only giving gifts to good kids and never leaving anything for the naughty ones. Did you ever think how that makes someone feel?”

Santa just sat there patiently smiling.

Once finished with my rant he spoke, “You see Amanda, good boys and girls get their presents when they are young, but naughty boys and girls get theirs when they have grown, and oh my how you have grown into a proper woman. You try and hide your beauty, mask who you really are. You can’t hide it from me.”

Then he stood and walked to me. He reached out gently taking my chin in one hand. He turned my head left and right seemingly looking for something. Then he kissed me. He tasted like candy canes and sugar cookies. His kiss was like eating warm chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven. Our mouths melted together.

His hands slid down my cheek then neck finally landing at my hip he pulled me into him. His hands were as warm and inviting as a wood stove. The other hand went to my breast, somehow my bra had disappeared. His fingers pinched and pulled at my nipple as his beard tickled my face and the tops of my breast.

As we continued to kiss, I could feel him drawing the passion from me. I felt my body tremble and then his hand on the back of my head. He applied the smallest amount of pressure and I found myself on my knees. Somehow a red velvet pillow appeared just before my knees touched the floor.

My fingers worked at the fly of his suit, and I found myself shocked at how small his penis was. I looked up and he was still smiling, eyes bright, full of life and mischief.

I found myself drawn to him, I longed to have his cock in my mouth. He tasted like mint chocolate chip at first. I felt him begin to thicken and grow in my mouth until he was the perfect size. I was able to easily take him to his base. I heard his breath hitch as I did. His fingers threading into my hair, now he tasted like butterscotch.

“Oh Amanda, I have waited so long for you to be my bad little girl.”

His words made my heart swell, and I began moving my lips up and down his shaft faster. I could hear him breathing heavy now, I Escort Ankara could taste something sweet each time my tongue ran across the tip of his cock.

I felt his rod pulse as he filled my mouth to overflowing with cum. It tasted like eggnog and there was so much, I swallowed and swallowed, but was unable to catch it all. It spilled from my lips, running down my chin to my neck and then covering my breasts.

I couldn’t help but smile. It was an absurd amount of cum.

I looked up innocently at him. “Looks like Father Christmas came early.”

He laughed ‘ho ho ho’ as he pulled me to my feet. Leading me to the couch he had me sit. Then I watched old Saint Nick kneel before me and then place his face between my legs. The beard sent shivers and gooseflesh racing across my body. Then I felt the heat of his mouth on me. He trailed kisses up and down my inner thigh, building the tensions I felt just inches away from where he licked and sucked. Finally, his tongue split me and found my clit easily. My back arched and I sucked in breath hard and deep. I grabbed his head and forced his mouth onto me harder pushing into the floor with my toes in an attempt to drive myself harder into his face. I felt the strength of his arms as he held me in place keeping me from being able to squirm away. Then I felt him bite me on my inner thighs, I jumped, but went nowhere. He was very strong. I came, then came again. As my second orgasm waned, he stood before me. He had me lay down on the couch now. He moved between my legs and I felt him, hard and ready. Then he began to fill me and fill me. My mouth opened as I gasped at the sensation. I felt like a long john being filled with warm custard. I could feel it expanding into my womb and spreading to the rest of my body. Somehow his size seemed to adjust to exactly what I needed. I felt his mouth on mine once again and it was like kissing warm cinnamon rolls. I found myself wanting to bite his lips in order to get a better taste.

I was full and he finally began to thrust. When he drew back I felt empty and longed for him, when he thrust firmly forward I felt completely fulfilled as his cock seemed to touch every pleasurable nerve in my being. I began to writhe and convulse with pleasure. Thought, space, and reason left me. The colors of the universe unfolded before me as I shook and trembled.

Then I felt a throb deep in me and warmness spread from inside to out. He was cumming as he yelled ‘ho ho ho’, over and over. I felt Santa’s body stiffen and shake as his cock continued to pulse deep within me, filling me to overflowing once again. I could feel his cum rushing out of me and down my legs. I felt a sharp pain in my uterus and he was done. I laid there wrapped in warmth and satisfaction as I slowly came back to myself, he was busy under the tree, placing gifts and arranging them.

I breathed deep and for the first time probably ever, I felt relaxed and at ease. I blinked heavy eyes once, twice and the third time it was just darkness.

“Amanda, Amanda, wake up.” I opened my eyes to see my sister smiling down at me. “Merry Christmas.”

I breathed deep, I felt well rested and so good this morning.

“Mrs. Miller is home, let’s get home and surprise Mom and Dad for Christmas.”

“Sure,” I said wiping the sleep from my eyes.

I pulled the covers back and stood up. My clothes seemed to stick to me. My sister noticed; you spill something on you. The night came rushing back, I felt my knees buckle slightly as my body remembered the racking passion. My fingers ran down my chin and neck expecting to feel the remnants of Santa’s load. There had been so much. There was nothing but a little stickiness.

God, had it just been a dream, I thought. Then I looked and saw the Go Pro.

I smiled at my sister and asked her if she would start my car too. I handed her my keys then grabbing the Go Pro and my phone I went to the bathroom. My phone was still recording so I stopped it. I began to scrub through the footage, I saw the stupid dog come into frame and then I saw me stand up. A few minutes later something did pass in front of the lens, but you couldn’t tell what it was. I watched as I walked back into the room and stopped. I stood there for a long time then walked out of frame and to the couch.

Hmmm I thought, my clothes hadn’t changed. Now I started looking at the files on the Go Pro, again I found the dog, I saw me enter the room then walk to the couch. There the footage stopped. The card was full so there was nothing else. Fuck! I was losing my mind.

I finished up my business and began to clean up and cringed when my hand hit a tender spot on the inside of my thigh. I looked and there was a red mark. Looking closer it was in the shape of a snowflake. I opened the camera on my phone and took a picture of it. It was real and it really looked like a snowflake. I smiled and knew; I hadn’t seen the last of old Saint Nick.

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