The Erotic Adventures of Dick Jones, Private Eye  

agent_00jones 57M
10 posts
7/5/2006 7:38 pm

Last Read:
12/13/2007 8:51 am

The Erotic Adventures of Dick Jones, Private Eye


If you are into it, the second draft of the first installment is inside.

agent_00jones 57M
9 posts
7/5/2006 11:30 pm

Dick Jones, Private Eye
the Lady in White
2cnd draft

Dick Jones is my name, and I'm a detective. I find things. Lost dogs, lost wives, that kinda thing. But usually I find cheating husbands. They don't much care for it when I take their picture, I can tell you that. I can't imagine why. I say if you're gonna cheat on your wife, maybe you ought to ask her how she feels about it, before she comes to me, cuz she will, and when she does I'll find you, and then you'll probably be in divorce court, giving up your house, your car, and even your life savings, and then blaming it all on me. It ain't a glamorous job, I can tell you that. But what job ever is. That's why they call it a job.

I've seen a lot of strange things over the years. But I never in my life expected to be propositioned in my own office.

It was a warm spring day. The windows were open and Charlie was just walking out, when in she came. She was young, attractive in a long white dress that reached just to her knees. It buttoned down the front. The top two were undone. Now I'm no expert, but if I had to guess, I'd swear that her breasts were at least a size 38D. Her nipples were so long and erect when she walked in they couldn't conceal themselves through the padding of her bra. I put it down to the wind outside and pulled my eyes up to her face.

I got up from the desk just to prove I wasn't hiding anything in my pants if you know what I mean. I like to try to keep all of my activities in the office on a professional level when I can, and I wanted to reassure her of that, in case she was nervous. I stuck out my hand, introduced myself, and said "how may I help you miss . . ."

"Kenworthy. Patricia Kenworthy. Misses. I want you to find my husband, Mr. Jones."

Her voice was calm, controlled, matter of fact, and seemed to have a bit of an aristocratic roundness to it. She came from money. The words she spoke gave me a tiny bit of surprise. I hadn't seen her before but I would have bet your daddy's farm that she wasn't married any more than I was. It wasn't just the way she kept fiddling with the ring on her left hand, as if it were half a size too big and about to fall on the floor any second. She didn't have a tan line on that finger either, and I could tell by the smooth, delicate skin of her arms that she liked to be out in the sun. But that wasn't all. She didn't have the air of a married woman, desperate to find him or not. No, she seemed more like a spoiled young girl who grew up to be a beautiful woman, used to getting her own way, and this was only an errand.

I let go of her hand. "Won't you sit down Mrs. Kenworthy?" I slid around the desk and back into my seat without taking my eyes off of her face. "Now, what can I do?"

She went into a long spiel about how her husband had left her for some other woman, and somehow he had the keys to her daddy's money - money he had left her when he died in some tragic accident. It seemed she couldn't pay her - their - bills, the mortgage hadn't been paid, and I just had to find him so she could straighten all of this out. By this point she was crying. Not sobbing mind you, just a pair of thin streams leaked to follow down along the bridge of her slender nose.

I handed her a hanky, she took it, dabbed at her eyes, rested her hands back in her lap and looked at them for a long moment. Just as I was about to say something she looked at me, her beautiful blues eyes gently pleading.

"I'm afraid I can't pay you. At least, not now."

I wasn't buying any of her story, except that she wanted me to find this guy she said she was married to, this guy Kenworthy. I turned my chair toward the window. I had to get my eyes off of hers before I lost my nerve. "I'm afraid I just can't help you Mrs. Kenworthy." The phone rang just at that moment; I could hear Gladys through the open door announcing "Jones Detective Agency."

I never heard Mrs. Kenworthy, or whatever her name was, get up out of her chair, but before I knew it the scent of her delicate perfume seemed to be all over the room. I turned back to find her leaning over the desk. One teardrop dripped off of her nose onto the antique mahogany between us and fanned out in a perfect small circle of separate little droplets. "I'll do anything, Mr. Jones, if only you can help." Her lips seemed to both plead and pout all at the same time.

It seemed to me this had suddenly gone just a little too far and I had to lean back just to get out of my chair without getting lost in those penetrating blue eyes. I got up and came around the desk, keeping my distance.

"Look, Mrs. Kenworthy" I started to say, but was simply unable to finish. She had turned to face me, and now she was leaning back on the desk. Her left hand was up to the third button of her dress. I just stared at those mounds of perfection as she undid that third button.

"Please?" The sound of her voice pulled me out of my trance, and then I started to get mad. "Look, Mrs. Kenworthy, or whatever your name is. I'm afraid I just won't be able to help you today."

"Oh but you simply must help me Mr. Jones, you simply must." By now her left hand was working on the fifth button, her right was inside her blouse and it was as if she hadn't heard me at all. Before I knew it she had stepped right out of her dress and grabbed me by the lapel. All she had on was her bra and lace garter belt at her waist. I pushed her back to the desk and now she could see I was angry. I stepped back away and started to pace. I could hear Gladys in the next room noisily shuffling some papers into her desk.

"You're no more married than I am. I don't know why you want me to find this guy, who ever he is, but he isn't your husband and I don't want any part of it."

She looked at me and her eyes were smoldering. She used her whole right hand to rub slowly over her entire crotch, pulling the flesh up, exposing her clit with the tip of her middle finger, and then pushing back down. Her eyes were filled with desire all right, but there was a hint of defiance in them too.

"But Mr. Jones . . ." was all that she said. Her left hand dropped from her upturned nipple to caress down the outside of her thigh, then slowly back up. As she did, the ring slid off of her finger. She slowly raised a bent leg to the edge of the desk. She slid her hand up along the inside of her thigh, clenched the cheek of her ass with that hand and then slid two of her fingers into her cunt, her right stroking her clit in small circles. She tipped her head way back, exposing her collarbones, tightening the skein of muscle and tendon in her throat. Her breath started to come in ragged gasps, deeply in and then out. Her legs trembled.

"Mr. Jones" she groaned softly, as if I weren't even there.

I don't recall what happened next, or how, but she didn't move, except for her hands and the tremble that began to course through her whole body, yet before I knew what was happening her face was in my hands and I pulled her lips to me. She shoved her tongue so far into my mouth that I nearly choked.

She pushed me away just far enough to get at my waist and undid my pants. They fell to the floor with a loud thunk. She dug her heels into the cheeks of my ass, and with one hand to my neck, the other around my dick, that woman pulled. She pulled with all four of her limbs. The head of my dick met those slippery wet lips and didn't stop going in till my balls slapped the edge of the desk. She exhaled completely with a groan as the fire burned up my spine. She shifted a little, and rode me from below as if I were a horse, digging her heels in with each thrust.

"Mr. Jones!" Gladys shrieked from the doorway.

"Gladys!" I exclaimed in true desperation. I kept my head down half in shame and saw beads of sweat drip from my face onto those perfectly formed globes as they danced, nipples jumping around in time with our thrusts. "Gladys, I'll be right with ya. Just gimme a sec, alright?" I hollered above the loud thumps and her groans of ecstatic delight, half hoping that at least if I couldn't convince Gladys that this was all just part of another normal day, why then at least perhaps I could convince her I believed it myself. What else is a guy supposed to do when he gets caught red handed with his dick in the cookie jar? Now just who was I really trying to kid. For the first time in my life I was totally helpless and couldn't possibly stop and I think all three of us knew it.

"Mr. Jones!" Gladys wailed, not nearly as loud as before. Suddenly I was afraid she was about to pass out and I just couldn't look. That woman's body suddenly arched backward beneath me, a gush of her burning hot fluid rushed by the head of my dick as it slid its' way home, her trembling ended in several violent spasms and jerks as she exhaled every last bit of air from her lungs. I kept thrusting like some clumsy mad dog as she pushed me away. My ankles got tangled in the waist of my pants and I hit the floor like some ol' drunk on a Saturday night.

I could see Gladys now, as she stood just inside the door, her back pressed to the wall. Her knees were bent as if about to give way. Her right hand clenched her collar so tight her knuckles were white. Her left circled her waist as if she'd been punched in the gut, both arms pressed tightly to her body desperately struggling to hold everything in. Her eyes glistened with tears.

'Mrs. Kenworthy' rose slowly from the desk and finished removing her bra. And I mean, why not, at this point it wasn't doing anything anyway. She walked up to Gladys with slow deliberation, cupped her chin in one hand and pulled Gladys's face away from my guilty expression. I'll never forget the look in Gladys's eyes as they turned from my face to look at the woman before her for as long as I live. Helpless despair is the only way to describe it. I could only wonder at what I had done. Mrs. Kenworthy just leaned in toward Gladys's face and tenderly planted a kiss on her lips. Gladys slowly went limp and would have keeled over but the young 'Mrs. Kenworthy' was ready. Gladys clamped her eyes so tight her tears leapt horizontally from her face, as if she had a squirt gun buried somewhere in the back of her head.

By this time of course I had regained at least some small measure of composure as I stood and struggled to pull up my pants. But it all drained away as I watched in utter shock as Gladys in tears helplessly sagged into the embrace she was receiving. I watched in a daze as 'Mrs. Kenworthy' pulled back from Gladys's lips. Gladys's head sagged on her neck like some rag doll, her gaze falling back to meet mine, her watering eyes begging for help. Instinctively I took a step forward and fell flat on my face, feet tangled once more in my pants.

My god, the pull that young woman had was magnetic.

Now I can't say if all the long years since losing her husband back in the war had produced some hidden frenzy of sexual frustration that Gladys simply could no longer contain. Maybe she was truly in love and had been since the day I hired her on, having kept it all to herself for all of those years till the day Mrs. Kenworthy walked in. Maybe it was Mrs. Kenworthy herself whose lust was simply too irresistible to all those whom it encountered. All I know for sure is that soon enough all three of us lay naked and writhing in ecstasy on the floor like wild beasts, totally oblivious even as the sun went down.

I should be clear about one thing right now. Gladys and I had never fucked before then, but we did on that day. That day, and just about every day since.

As for the Kenworthys, there is simply no trace.


Become a member to create a blog