Sin in the City of Angels

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Sin in the City of Angels Page 15

by Callista Hawkes


  “Fuck!” He groans, his cock twitching again and again in her hand as he empties his balls all over her tanned mounds. As his climax subsides, she releases his cock and turns her attention to you.

  “Your turn.” She breathes, her eyes smoldering. Her face is flushed and dewy with perspiration, the thug’s seed still clinging to her chin. The hood’s thick come trickles down her chest into her cleavage and over the cups of her bra, the thick white fluid contrasting with the black lace of her lingerie. She pumps your cock harder now, her other hand slipping between your legs to massage your balls.

  “I was right.” Valentina chuckles. “These are big.” She gives them a little squeeze and you let out a deep grunt of ecstasy as she sends you over the edge. She tips back her head and aims your shaft at her face. The crown swells and a thick rope of your seed splashes across her upturned face. Her gleeful cries of delight join your groans of pleasure as your cock continues to erupt all over her features, splattering her beautiful face with thick globs of your come. Your pearly white fluid glistens on her cheeks, lips, chin and across the bridge of her nose. As your climax ebbs, she guides the tip to her mouth, sucking the last of it from you and greedily gulping it down. Valentina releases you from her grasp and you stagger away, gazing down in wonder as the wanton, come splattered woman before you.

  “My God.” You murmur. “Look at you!” Valentina smiles brazenly up at you, squeezing her drenched breasts before reaching up to her face and running her fingers through your creamy seed.

  “Well, you didn’t satisfy me.” She purrs. “But I won’t say I didn’t enjoy myself.” Her smile vanishes as she turns to the hood. “A word of this to anyone outside this room and I’ll have you killed.” She tells him darkly. “Slowly and painfully. That goes for all of you.” The hood nods and swallows nervously. “Now, get out of here.”

  “Yes ma’am.” The hood mumbles. Her men quickly collect their clothes and with a shell-shocked glance back at Valentina, they quickly leave the room. You shape to follow them.

  “Not so fast, Harlowe.” She calls out. “I’m going to shower and then I’m going to sit on your face until you satisfy me. Then I’m going to ride you until you satisfy me again, so I hope you’ve got plenty of stamina left. Your life may depend on it.” She flashes you a smile and leaves the room, leaving you both thrilled and terrified.

  As you sit on the end of the bed, eagerly anticipating Valentina’s return, you feel a pang of guilt at abandoning the case. They say every man has his price and apparently yours is a thousand bucks and a night with a beautiful woman. You let out a sigh, wishing you had your whiskey flash with you to drink away the self-loathing. At that moment, the door swings open and Valentina walks in, cleaned up and now completely naked. She smiles, her brown eyes smoldering as she walks purposely towards you. As she pushes you back onto the bed, climbs astride your head and lowers herself onto your face, Viola Vandergraaf’s fate and the unsolved mysteries of the case are quickly forgotten as you give in to your lust and greed.

  THE END

  “Sure.” You reply, leading her to your car. Viola climbs into the passenger seat and you fire up the engine. Reaching into her purse, she pulls out a silver cigarette case. Her hand is trembling as she places a cigarette between her ruby lips and fumbles with a lighter. You pull out your Zippo and light it for her.

  “Thank you.” She replies, her eyes closing as she inhales the smoke. You put the Buick into gear and press your foot to the gas pedal, pulling onto the road and driving quickly away.

  You drive in silence for perhaps fifteen minutes. Viola smokes continually, fiddling nervously with her cigarette case. You just keep driving, not quite sure where to head. You find yourself on the last few miles of Route 66 on your way to Santa Monica. With the rolling blue waves of the Pacific Ocean ahead of you, you decide that’s as good a destination as any.

  You park near the pier and help Viola out of the car. The hot weather and golden beaches have lured many from the city and you can see couples sunbathing, children playing in the sand and lovers frolicking in the surf. You lean against the hood of your car and light a cigarette.

  “I should have brought my swimsuit.” She smiles, slipping on a pair of sunglasses and gazing out to sea.

  “I wish you had. I’ll bet you’d look just swell.” You grin, allowing your eye to roam over her slender figure.

  “Mr Harlowe! That is quite improper!” She scolds you, blushing furiously, though you can see a hint of a smile play over her lips. She seems to have swiftly recovered her composure after the attempt on her life.

  “Let’s take a walk.” You tell her, nodding towards the pier.

  You walk along the thick boards, a gentle breeze blowing across you as you make your way towards the end of the pier. The waves roll in, crashing against the shore beneath you and the salty air fills your nostrils. The pier is busy with tourists. Parents with scampering overexcited kids or young beaming couples, the guy with his arm around the waist of his sweetheart. You weave your way through them all, the breeze picking up as you reach the exposed end of the pier. You lean on the railing and look out to sea. Viola squeals as a gust of wind blows through her long blonde hair.

  “Should have brought a headscarf too.” You tell her dryly as she runs her fingers through her disheveled hair. She chuckles before accepting a cigarette as you pull a packet of Lucky Strikes from your pocket.

  You both stand there in silence, gazing out at the rolling waves, the swells rising up before crashing into the shore. You’ve always found the sound of the sea quite soporific. You flick your cigarette butt into the sea before turning your back to the ocean.

  “Back to business.” You tell Viola, reaching for your notebook and leaning back against the railing. She sighs and reluctantly nods.

  Ask her about herself

  Ask her about her husband’s mistress

  Ask her about the attempts on her life

  “So, tell me about these first two attempts on your life.” You ask Viola.

  “Like I said in your office, last week I was crossing the street and a car swerved across the road to try to run me down. Then the same car mounted the sidewalk a few days later. I had to throw myself out of the way on both occasions.”

  “You were unharmed?” You ask.

  “A few scrapes and bruises, but nothing too serious.” She replies. You nod, scribbling into your notebook.

  “Any witnesses?” You ask.

  “Plenty of bystanders,” She nods, “But as I refused to report the matter to the authorities, they all went about their business.”

  “Would you say it was the same car as the green Chevrolet Stylemaster today?”

  “I’m no automobile aficionado, but yes, I believe so.” She replies.

  Ask her about herself

  Ask her about her husband’s mistress

  That’s enough questions

  “So you from around here?” You ask Viola casually.

  “San Francisco originally.” She replies. “I came to LA when I was seventeen.”

  “An actress?” You ask.

  “Is it that obvious?” She laughs.

  “You’ve sure got the looks and the figure for it.” You shrug. “But instead you’re living a life of luxury married to a multimillionaire. Where did it all go wrong?” Again, Viola chuckles until her smile fades as she dwells on recent developments.

  “For a time, I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world.” She replies, her voice flat. “A handsome and wealthy husband, a beautiful home, parties with the rich and famous. I knew things weren’t quite right between us this last year or so, but the thought he’d try to… to…”

  “Don’t you fret, sweetheart.” You tell her, reaching for your breast pocket and passing her your handkerchief. She dabs at her eyes.

  “I’m sorry Mr Harlowe.” She replies, taking a deep breath and rapidly recovering her composure. “Please, go on.”

  Ask her about her husband’s mistress

&nb
sp; Ask her about the attempts on her life

  That’s enough questions

  “So, you told me before that you suspected your husband of taking a lover.” You murmur, keeping your voice low as a family wander past. “You know who his mistress is?”

  “I have no idea.” Viola replies. “Sometimes he comes home late at night and I can smell her cheap perfume on his clothes. Sometimes he doesn’t come back until the next day. I don’t even bother asking him where he’s been any more. All I’ll get will be another pack of lies.”

  “You’re sure one thing’s related to the other?” You ask her. “Plenty of men have a mistress without feeling the need to rub out their wife.”

  “Maybe she’s more than a mistress.” She replies, choking back some tears. “Maybe he’s in love with her. Maybe he wants to marry her. Maybe that’s why he wants me out of the picture.”

  “That’s a lot of maybes.” You muse. “You sure there’s no one else that would mean you harm? Any gambling debts, any feuds, a jilted lover perhaps?”

  “Mr Harlowe!” She gasps. “No, nothing like that!”

  “I had ta ask.” You shrug. “I can’t do my job if I don’t have all the facts.”

  “I’m sure it’s my husband.” She tells you firmly.

  Ask her about herself

  Ask her about the attempts on her life

  That’s enough questions for now

  “Well, thanks.” You reply, slipping your notebook back into your jacket pocket. “I’ve a little more to go on now.”

  “You’ll get to the bottom of it, Mr Harlowe?” She asks. “I’m so very frightened.”

  “I’ll get this straightened out. Don’t you worry.” You reply before flashing her what you hope is a reassuring smile. Viola nods and you make your way back along the pier towards the shore. As you pass a sailor passionately kissing his sweetheart, you wonder if he’s about to ship out for several months. You smile, remembering your last day before shipping out to Europe during the war.

  “Believe it or not, Neville and I used to be like that once.” Viola muses bitterly, following your gaze. “Seems like a lifetime ago now. You know that son-of-a-bitch husband of mine hasn’t touched me in months. I know why of course. The coward can’t even bring himself to look me in the eye since he took up with that whore.” Her blue eyes flick towards you and gaze deeply into yours. “Well, you know what? If he can philander, then so can I.”

  No strings sex with a beautiful blonde. Hell yes!

  Keep things professional

  “Well, I wouldn’t blame you ma’am.” You reply, doing your best to sound detached as you ignore the bait. She raises an eyebrow.

  “You don’t mix business with pleasure then.” She replies sadly.

  “Wouldn’t be professional of me, Mrs Vandergraaf.” You reply, somehow keeping a straight face as you remember the many times you’ve had Paige up against the filing cabinets in your office.

  “Just my luck.” She sighs.

  You make your way back to your car and drive Viola back to her house on Mulholland Drive.

  “Thank you, Mr Harlowe.” She replies, opening the door. “Santa Monica has been a welcome distraction.” She pauses, chewing her lip thoughtfully for a moment. “And thank you for your restraint during my moment of weakness. I’ve never slept with any other man other than my husband and despite his philandering, this is probably not the time to start.” You nod and she climbs out of the car, shutting the door behind her and walking back towards her house. You pull back out onto the road and head back towards downtown L.A.

  Continue

  “Seems only fair.” You grin, your pulse racing at the unexpected turn of events. Viola nods, smiling shyly and playing nervously with a stray strand of her long blonde hair. As you make your way back to the car, there is a palpable sense of anticipation and excitement in the air. Neither of you speak until you reach the car.

  “Should we find a motel?” She asks as you pull out into the street and make your way out of Santa Monica.

  “A bit conspicuous, checking in for an afternoon.” You reply. “No, we’d better steer clear. Don’t want you being recognized and embarrassed.”

  “You seem to be quite adept at this sort of thing.” She observes with a slightly accusatory tone.

  “I’m a private detective, remember?” You remind her. “It’s kinda my job to track down adulterers.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see her wince at the overt implication and wonder if she’s about to get cold feet. She gazes out of the window in silence for a moment before glancing across at you.

  “So, where are we going?” Viola asks.

  “We’ll find a quiet spot off the road.” You reply.

  “You mean in the car?!” She gasps.

  “Sure.” You grin.

  “What am I doing?” She murmurs to herself.

  Santa Monica shrinks in your rear view mirror as you drive along the coastal road towards Malibu, the rolling waves of the Pacific on your left. Other than the occasional car or truck passing you, there is very little traffic. Spotting a narrow lane leading down behind the grassy bluffs, you slow and leave the road, the car bouncing on the uneven track as it drops down to the top of the beach. You can see the long, narrow strip of golden sand stretching away towards Malibu. Once you can no longer be seen from the road, you stop, ratchet the handbrake and kill the engine. You turn to Viola, her blue eyes wide and her lips pouting.

  “Well, here we are.” You grin. She smiles weakly, glancing nervously up and down the beach through the windows. “Just us, sweetheart.” You reassure her, taking her hand.

  “I’ve never done this before.” She murmurs, her hand trembling slightly in yours.

  “What? Screwed in the back of a car?” You growl shamelessly.

  “Mr Harlowe!” She gasps at your lack of decorum before perhaps considering that while she might not appreciate the coarseness of your language, it is essentially what she is about to do. “Well, no, I’ve never done this outside of the bedroom.” She admits. “But I was referring more to the fact that I’ve never slept with another man other than my husband.”

  “Well, you’ll be doin’ no sleepin’ with me, sweetheart!” You chuckle.

  “You know what I mean.” She replies testily.

  “C’mon, there’s more space in the back.” You tell her, opening the door. She nods and meekly follows your lead, kicking off her shoes, shuffling across the seat and slipping out before climbing up onto the back seat. You follow her in and close the door behind you. You lean into her and take her in your arms. She stiffens at your touch and she squeaks in surprise as you press your lips to hers. You feel her relax as she surrenders herself to your advances, her body melting against you and her lips parting as you kiss. Her tongue tentatively flicks against yours and she lets out a low moan. You can feel her chest heaving against you, her body betraying her excitement.

  “Take me.” She breathes. You pull away from her and grasp the hem of her dress, peeling it slowly up her pale, slender thighs. A low moan escapes Viola’s lips and she chews her lower lip in anticipation. As her dress gathers around her waist, you notice that while she has a couple of fresh scrapes on her knees from the earlier attempt on her life, there is no sign of any older injuries from the previous two. You guess she must be a fast healer.

  “Beautiful.” You murmur as your hands slide up her silky smooth legs towards her white, lacy panties. Viola gasps as you grasp the waistband of the flimsy underwear. She lifts her hips, allowing you to peel them down her long, toned legs. You can see her chest heaving with excitement as she slowly parts her thighs, revealing a wiry thatch of golden pubic hair and her puffy labia glistening with her arousal.

  “I was almost expecting cobwebs.” You smirk. She glares at you, but can’t disguise an amused twist of her lips.

  “You’re going to talk your way back out of my panties if you’re not careful.” She murmurs. “Now, let’s find a better use for that sharp tongue of yours.” She adds,
gazing pointedly downwards.

  Go down on her

  Tell her to use her own mouth first

  “You first.” You grin, glancing pointedly downwards as you sit down next to her.

  “I don’t do that.” Viola replies, her lip curling in disgust.

  “No wonder you’ve got a straying husband.” You mutter under your breath. “Listen sweetheart, you want me to go down on you, you’ve got to be prepared to do likewise.” Her gaze shifts from your face to the growing bulge in the front of your slacks before she sighs in resignation.

  “Very well.” She grumbles, reaching into your lap and unfastening your belt. You pull off your tie and unbutton your shirt before shrugging it off. Her fingers nimbly tug down your zipper and she bites her lower lip as she reaches into your underpants. You groan as you feel her fingers wrap around your hard shaft, pulling it out into the bright afternoon light.

  “So big!” She murmurs as she gazes down at your thick, swollen shaft. Viola seems mesmerized as her fingers trace the thick vein on the underside, sliding up towards the bulbous crown, the skin taut and shiny. She closes her hand around your length, gripping it tightly and beginning to slowly stroke you.

  “Suck it.” You groan thickly. Viola nods dumbly, releasing your cock and obediently dropping to her knees before you. She hooks her fingers into your waistband and pulls down your slacks and underpants as one. Your rigid shaft twitches at the sight of the beautiful blonde kneeling before you, her face so close that you can feel her hot breath on your aching balls. She gazes hesitantly at your cock swaying in front of her.

  “Do it.” You growl, frustration creeping in as you will her to sate your lustful appetite. Viola glances up at you before taking you back in her hand and pulling your hard shaft towards her. She leans forward and tentatively runs her tongue up the underside of your shaft, leaving a trail of saliva on your skin.

 

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