It was a sad day at the office. We were out of coffee, a broken ceiling lamp kept flashing, and the stupid AI kept on lying in the report on Mrs. Farrell’s missing cat. My alternatives were to fix it by hand, or to accept that nobody was going to read it anyway, in which case I might as well accept that I was useless in this company.
My depressing thoughts were dispelled the moment Grace kicked open the door, her hands filled with a box and a bottle.
“Surprise! I brought breakfast! And whisky to celebrate, like in the movies!”
“Grace, we’re already past lunchtime. And why do you look like you didn’t sleep?”
Her dark hair was a frizzy mess, her blouse wrinkled, and she had bags under her eyes. None of that impacted her exuberant mood, though.
“I was out all night doing recon, dummy! For our biggest case yet!”
That was unusual. Grace tended to barge into cases without thinking, leaving me with the mess and the paperwork. She put the box on the table, took out a cupcake and ate it in one bite.
“I’m all ears,” I answered.
“Waif, lef fuff our fafes wif fuffakes firf,” she said, spewing forth a cloud of powdered sugar.
In high school, the first girl in my class to lose her virginity had been named Virginia. Apart from her, Grace was the most ironically named person I’d ever met.
I took our last plate and a fork out of the drawer, intending to eat my cakes like a civilised human being. Sadly, we were out of knives.
She hit me on the head with a greasy hand. “Ugh, always so prim and proper. You have to LIVE, Dennis!”
“Uh-hu. Will I still be alive after this massive case you’ve gotten us?”
“Well, that depends on you, hot shot,” she said. With a suggestive wink. Which freaked me out.
“What do I have to do? Another week of non-stop surveilling a mean old lady’s driveway?”
“You have to convincingly play my boyfriend.”
I choked on my piece of cupcake, spewing forth another cloud of powdered sugar. Grace gave me an absent-minded pat on the back, while I recovered my breathing facilities.
She turned a chair around and straddled it, to look important during the briefing. I would have laughed, normally. But I was too scared of her newest, crazy plan. “Listen up, assistant detective. We were hired by a certain gentleman, who wishes to remain anonymous -”
“Grace, please tell me you have a name.”
“Hey, just because I don’t like thinking, doesn’t mean I’m dumb! Of course I have a name. I’m just building tension.”
“I’m already tense enough, please get to the point.”
“Boring man. Anyway, the affluent gentleman dotes on his lovely daughter. She, in turn, is deeply enamored with, and I quote, ‘a slimy snake he wouldn’t trust to carry his golf clubs.’”.
“And we have to prove the snake part?”
“Correctamundo! The snake’s name is Donovan. The thing is, he does his snaking in the extra-secret upper floor of an already rather secretive adult club. You and I need to pretend to swing until we get in, then catch him cheating on the daughter.”
“Why can’t you just seduce him outside, spend a night in his penthouse or whatever, et voila?”
“That’s what the previous detective tried, without success. He doesn’t let people into his penthouse, doesn’t hit on girls outside that one club. Like me, our target is less stupid than he looks.”
She stood up and bounced around. “Fifty grand if we get it done, Dennis! We’ll be rich!”
It should have been a dream assignment. My romantic feelings for Grace had fizzled out over the ten years we’d known each other, but the physical attraction was still there. I’d seen her curvy body in bikinis and revealing dresses. She was an absolute goddess underneath the messy exterior.
I’d been fantasizing about her for all of those ten years.
_____
That evening, we were queueing in a dark hallway, trying to see through the smoke and “atmospheric” lighting. Grace looked like a different person, wearing high heels and stockings under a little black dress. Emphasis on little. It had a straight neckline right below her delicate collarbones, but the real eyecatcher was a cleavage window, and no bra in sight. Her fabulous breasts were kept in place purely by magic.
Yes, she’d explained me the whole boob tape process, but it was still magic to me.
More than one guy in the queue had earned an ugly look from their partner, after staring a little too long at my gorgeous boss. Although I have to admit, Grace also whacked me on the head when I got enchanted by a passing pixie girl.
In my defense, the pixie was basically wearing a one-piece swimsuit. Even girls stared at it, including Grace herself.
As for myself, I wore the only suit I had available, a dark blue one that officially belonged to the company, just like the alligator shoes and the white dress shirt underneath. Only the pocket square was my own. Hidden in the embroidery was a tiny camera.
A middle-aged gentleman, shaped like a perfect square, waved his hand. He was obviously judging whether I would cause trouble. I wasn’t prone to causing it, but I had the kind of face that made other men cause trouble.
The guard spotted it. I avoided eye contact, sweating profusely.
You’re walking in with a piece of ass. Are you capable of protecting it? He asked telepathically.
Yes, sir, I have a black belt in Hapkido, I projected back.
Then Grace flashed him a smile, the receptionist slapped a bracelet on my wrist, and I was ushered inside the club.
Stamp of approval. Now, how the fuck does one behave in a club?
“Act like we’re together. If a guy leers at me and his girl doesn’t mind, you smile at the girl. Otherwise, just be observant,” Grace instructed. She pushed a smoking cocktail with an unnatural blue color in my hand, then threw herself at the dancefloor, full of enthusiasm.
_____
The day after, I only remembered vague sensations, spliced with images.
Finding my groove on the dance floor. Grace’s fragrance. Another cocktail. A beautiful woman, disappointment in her eyes.
Someone getting sucker-punched right next to me, me catching a girl who got pushed off-balance in the scuffle. An approving nod from the security guard, while the girl bought me another cocktail.
I ended up in a deep conversation about agnosticism, cocktails in both hands. Another guy arguing for hard solipsism.
Grace, dancing body-to-body with the guy’s girlfriend, to a song about someone’s pony. They blended together. Did they kiss, or was that my fantasy?
_____
At four in the afternoon, I threw up for the last time. Grace face-timed me an hour later, looking like she got run over by a truck.
“Did we do good yesterday?” I croaked.
“We shouldn’t have … had those cupcakes for breakfast,” she answered, in a dull monotone that sounded nothing like her. “But we got noticed. That’s the most important thing.”
“I don’t remember much.”
“Don’t give me that, mister. You got a little too much into your act as my boyfriend. You groped both my tits, grinding your erection against my butt. You kissed me with tongue. At one point you tried fingering me on the dance floor. Very convenient that you forgot.”
Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. I wouldn’t do that. Would I?
All those cocktails, all those years of suppressing my desires, Grace looking hot as fuck … It had gotten to me. I’d crossed the line and violated her. She’d probably keep me around for this job, but could I even look her in the eyes anymore-
“Oh God! You really believe you did all that!” Grace burst out laughing. Dying. She put the phone down and I heard her struggling to breathe in the background.
What an absolute bitch.
“Dennis, don’t pull that face again! It was so funny! You’ll make me vomit again from laughing too hard. You were mortified! You barely even touched me all night!”
“Grace, you told me I assaulted you in public! How was I supposed to react? Shrug it off and say you were asking for it with your outfit?”
“Hahahahahaha no, but I literally ordered you to play my boyfriend. At least defend yourself! Don’t look like a shocked puppy,” she wheezed. “You’re so … so you. It’s perfect. Anyway, don’t get the wrong idea and go daggering me next time. But you can turn up the affection a notch.”
Could I? Should I? Would I stop myself when the time came?
_____
We went three more times to the club, dancing with other couples, exchanging phone numbers, and cementing our status as promising young swingers.
Finally, we got an invitation into the inner sanctum. Possibly because of our mingling and our consistent spending. More probably, because Grace ended up wearing a dress that barely covered anything. The neckline plunged to her navel, the hem barely reached her thighs, and the back was open down to her tailbone. She clearly wore nothing underneath.
Mister square security guard was there once again, subtly ushering us onto the stairs to the second floor. There were rooms along the sides, overlooking the dance floor down below, and more stairs up. With private chambers, I guessed.
If ever it was the time to act like a couple, this was it. I held my hand against Grace’s back, fingers slipping inside her dress to rest on top of her firm ass. Her muscles gave the slightest twitch in surprise.
We spotted Donovan quickly, lounging on the other side, with another guy and three women very close by. Grace confirmed that none of the women were his fiancé.
Over the course of half an hour, we shuffled closer to their circle. When we got within striking range, she signalled me to get lost, which I did happily. The whole secretive detective thing was very intense, and I performed miserably under pressure.
_____
I waited on the side of the room, gazing at the people below, when someone tapped my shoulder. I turned and saw the guy who’d been with Donovan earlier. His number one henchman.
“Your girl signed you up for some fun,” he said, pointing behind him. Grace was sitting next to Donovan, in another girl’s lap. All of them giggled like he was the funniest motherfucker in the world, while playing with their hair and puffing up their chests. All of them had legs and cleavage for days.
Well, maybe Donovan was actually funny. I shouldn’t judge people without knowing them.
“Sure, that’s what we’re all here for right? ‘Fun’?” I replied, slapping the henchman on the back. I hoped it was a good, masculine display of amicality. I quite sucked at interacting with macho men. Luckily, Grace’s sex-appeal seemed to compensate for my awkwardness.
I tagged along in the back of the group, walking up two flights of stairs. Apart from Donovan and his henchman, six girls joined. I saw Donovan pinch Grace’s ass, before looking back and winking at me.
He must have thought he was stealing my girl. Joke’s on you, buddy, I thought. She’s not into either of us.
Donovan turned right, his arms wrapped around Grace and another girl, his buddy trailing. I walked after them, but one of the girls turned and stopped me. Dark-skinned, her face hypnotizingly beautiful, her luscious body barely held in check by a flimsy, pink dress. Everything was lifted up by ridiculously high heels, leaving her eyes nearly level with mine. Underneath the makeup, I could tell she was younger than me, perhaps in her early twenties.
She put a finger in the middle of my chest and fluttered her eyelashes. I was enthralled.
“Oh no, big boy. You’re coming with me. We need to find out if Heather was lying.”
I was no longer enthralled. Fuck, that was bad. Grace had used her evil stepmother’s name as an alias, I understood that part.
But they suspected her. That’s why they separated us. She was just a girl, alone without backup.
And, most importantly, I had the little camera hidden in my pocket square. Even if she passed their interrogation, she couldn’t complete the mission by herself.
_____
A blindfold was pulled over my eyes, my hands cuffed behind my back. I was on the verge of pissing myself as they led me away. She brought me to a dark room, roughly pushing me down on a chair. I couldn’t see anything, partly because I kept my eyes squeezed shut in fear. Even without cuffs, I wouldn’t have dared to move. It was eerily quiet, just an occasional scrape or hum.
Loud drums startled me. My blindfold was brusquely removed. I saw my life flash before my eyes.
Wait.
It had been a long night of intense spying. Combined with alcohol, and now fear, I was not at my sharpest. Even unhindered, I never had Grace’s brilliant mind.
Still, I was pretty damn sure criminals didn’t play ‘You Can Leave Your Hat On’ during torture.
I blinked. The girl was dancing in front of me, her hips swaying, slowly pulling down the zipper on the side of her pink dress. It fell to the ground. So did my jaw. Stripped down to golden lingerie, she strutted over to me, hips shaking to the rhythm of the song. She gave a wicked smile when she saw my expression, helplessly in love, then straddled me while reaching to undo the handcuffs.
Her breasts were in my face. As soon as my hands were free, I took the liberty of groping her. If I was gonna die, better to have enjoyed the last moments.
“Heather promised you were packing seven hard inches down there. Don’t disappoint a poor, horny girl,” she said.
Wow, Grace had been bullshitting heavily. She had no clue about my genitals – and I barely reached six. Hopefully this girl hadn’t brought a ruler.
She turned around, pushing her booty against my crotch, grinding sensually. She skillfully liberated my cock from its narrow confines, letting it slide between her firm buttcheeks, all while she danced in my lap. Despite the age gap, she was the experienced one here. I let my hands roam freely, along her sexy legs and abdomen, pulling her breasts out of her bra and tweaking her nipples. She made all the little noises of approval that a man wants to hear.
“I like a boy who gets hard fast. Means you like what you see,” she crooned. “I’m Heaven.” She swung around, snatching my face with lethal-looking nails. “Don’t joke about being in Heaven.”
Close call. Fortunately, I was well-versed in rescuing awkward moments in conversation.
“I’m Dennis, an atheist,” I said.
“I wondered how you scored a chick like that, Dennis. Either you were a smooth talker, or …,” her voice trailed off, looking down at my cock, “you know how to make a bitch scream,” she said, licking her lips.
“Why don’t you put those pretty lips to work, and maybe I’ll let you find out.”
“Hmmm,” Heaven purred, getting down on her knees and wrapping my cock between her big, soft breasts. “I like you when you get cocky. Your girl’s a pretty little tart, but I’m in a different league.”
And then, my cock was in heaven. She took me in one gulp, bobbing up and down while saliva leaked out of her mouth. Her tongue slid out, caressing my balls, gagging as she mercilessly abused her own throat.
It was like nothing I’d ever experienced. The sensation was divine, the view immaculate. Her smooth back, beads of sweat pearling from the effort she put into it, pooling at the edge of her round, perfectly sculpted butt. The golden thong disappeared completely between her cheeks.
Heaven came up for air, ropes of spit connecting her lips with the tip of my cock. She lapped it all up, languidly stroking my cock.
“Fuck,” I grunted, “You’re a sexy bitch.”
“You know how to make a girl feel special,” she smiled. “I could be yours. Sloppy toppy … every … day.”
Heaven spat on my cock, then noisily slurped it all off, jerking fast and sucking as hard as she could. Her mouth was a vacuum, trained for men’s pleasure, her tongue making movements I couldn’t describe.
Right then, enjoying by far the best blowjob I’d ever had, I understood the situation.
She mistook me for a rich guy.
Heaven tried winding me around her finger, wanted me to fund her lifestyle in exchange for a fucking exceptional sex life. She would’ve had me, if I had money. I might as well make the most of it, before she found out I had nothing to give.
I reached for her breasts, squeezed them, until she moaned and gazed at me with desire. I stood up, lifting her along, then slid my fingers inside her mouth to wet them. Heaven diligently obeyed, happy to let me do what I wanted.
My hand slid between her legs, fingers dipping inside her wet pussy. She moaned deeply, an exaggerated tremble running through her exquisite body. She knew what men liked.
“My wife is very pretty,” I whispered, “but a lazy cunt in bed. If you ride me like you’re in a rodeo, I might be convinced.”
“Get down on the bed, big boy,” Heaven grinned, hands digging in my hair while she grinded her hips against my hand. “I’ll fuck your brains out.”
I flopped down on a wide, round cushion in the middle of the room, mesmerized while she took off her bra and thong. Her naked body was a work of art. She crawled on top of me, a predatory gleam in her eyes as she grabbed my cock, positioning it against her slick entrance. Pleasure flooded me as she lowered herself on top of me with practiced grace.
Grace. Fuck.
Not now. Let me enjoy this.
Heaven’s long nails ran down my chest, leaving red stripes that marked me as her prey. Her hips moved in a sensuous rhythm, her pussy milking my cock. She moaned with abandon, her voice hoarse and highly erotic.
She leaned down, pressed her tits in my face. I eagerly licked, sucked, bit her nipples. Each of my movements was answered by a sonorous squeal of pleasure. I grabbed her sides, her hips, possessive and rough.
I hit her ass, hard, a sharp smack resounding.
“Yeah,” she growled, “I’m your bitch. Hurt me. Fuck me like an animal.”
She picked up the pace, her ass slapping against my thighs. Every movement sent a jolt of joy through me. I felt my orgasm building, my cock ready to explode.
I didn’t have a condom. I had to pull out. Tell her to stop.
Almost there. Say something. Do something.
“FUCK! FUCK! YEAH! UGH! FUCK,” I grunted, grabbing her hips, pinning her against me for my last, violent thrusts, as I spent myself inside the hottest girl I’d ever had.
Heaven kept moving her hips, draining me dry, riding my cock as long as it stayed hard. She laughed, an honest, clear laugh.
She let herself collapse on top of me, laying down on my chest. I felt her warm breath on my neck, her fingernails drawing hearts on my chest. “Trying to put a baby inside me, big boy?” Her voice purred in my ear. “I’m on the pill … but you could convince me to stop.”
It’s a good thing I shied away from hot party girls my whole life. They would have plucked me like a chicken.
_____
Heaven, with her delightful ass bouncing and drops of my cum leaking down her shapely legs, led me to the next room. Smells and sounds of debauchery abounded as soon as I entered. I realized that Heaven had been instructed to keep me out of the picture, while Donovan got his greasy hands on “my girl”.
Yeah, I think I got the better part of that deal.
I saw two girls on top of each other, limbs entangled, bodies rubbing in a symphony of high-pitched moans. A third girl was lay draped across an armchair, seemingly passed out. In the middle was a big, heart-shaped bed, with Grace and a red-haired girl laying on their backs on opposite sides, their heads meeting in the middle. Tongues intertwining.
Donovan stood between Grace’s legs, holding them up in the air, fucking her hard and fast. His henchman was doing the same to the redhead. Heaven led me over to them, while I adjusted my pocket square to secretly activate the miniature camera inside.
Keep on smiling, you prick, I thought.
Both men amplified their grunting when I approached, leaving me to stand awkwardly next to them. Heaven blew me a kiss and left, grabbing something from Donovan’s jacket on her way out. Money, I presumed.
I stood and watched, while my ridiculously hot boss was letting a stranger pound her, pretending it was the best fuck of her life. Going above and beyond the call of duty.
Grace’s big, round breasts bounced with every thrust. She had tiny nipples. A little birth mark on her hip. I couldn’t help but admire her body, flushed and shiny with sweat. The way her abs flexed, the bend of her ass. The sight of her pussy, with a little triangle of hair above it.
Her dark hair was mussed beyond repair, her lips slightly swollen, mascara smudged. She gave me a subtle wink, then went back to biting her lip and moaning overly loud, with a glazed-over look in her eyes.
Donovan’s thrusts became frantic, his body slapping hard against Grace. He made eye contact with me, grinning, convinced he was winning.
At the last moment, he pulled out. Cum shot across her stomach, sticking in her pubic hair. Grace licked her lips, trying to keep fucking him with her eyes. Donovan only had attention for me though, staring at me, daring me to say something. The tension was palpable.
In the background, the henchman also blew his load into the redhead. As if he’d been waiting for permission from his master.
“Your girl’s a great fuck. Go ahead and reclaim her,” Donovan grinned.
So many years, I’d dreamed of fucking Grace. This wasn’t how I’d imagined it, her covered in a stranger’s cum, two more strangers fucking right next to her, and Donovan smugly looking on as if he’d just cuckolded me.
I couldn’t blow our cover, right? I had no choice but to fuck Grace, right here and now. To feel her warm, soft body pressed against mine, my cock slamming into her tight, wet pussy, fucking her hard to assert my dominance over Donovan. It was necessary. For the job.
He didn’t have to ask me twice.
I stepped in between her legs, rubbing my cock against her slit to get it hard again. Grace nodded imperceptibly. Everything for the job. It didn’t take long until my cock was standing fully at attention again.
Wasting no time, I pushed inside, holding onto her legs to keep my distance from Donovan’s cum. Grace, thankfully, pulled her red-haired lover closer, down on her abdomen, making her lick up the mess.
Donovan himself, having had his moment of presumed superiority, slapped me on the back and walked away. His henchman trailed him like a good little doggy. The redhead went and slumped in another armchair.
Leaving me and Grace. Alone. Fucking.
I leaned in so we could whisper.
She grabbed my head and pulled me into a deep kiss.
“You smell like that slut,” she said, faking disgust.
“Did you know that was gonna happen?” I asked.
“No clue. I had to bluff and think fast. But we did it in the end. You’ve got the material, right?”
“I’ve got everything on camera … Grace, are you aware we’re fucking?”
“Yes. Keep doing it. Fuck the memory of that guy out of my body, Dennis,” she whispered.
Again, no need to ask twice.
In the background, the two girls were still pleasuring each other, loud moans and wet noises echoing through the room. I focused on Grace, writhing underneath me while our tongues darted against each other. My hands roamed over body, feeling up her butt, her tits, everything I’d always yearned for.
I began growling like an animal, my cock sliding in and out of her wet and willing pussy. She held me tight, pulling me against her, deeper inside.
“I didn’t think … your cock … would actually be huge,” she moaned.
“I never … had an occasion … to show you,” I answered. Grace giggled loudly.
“Make me cum, Dennis. I’m done faking for tonight. I need this.”
I pushed on her legs, folding her up to get a better angle, drilling into her. With my thumb, I could just reach her clit, rubbing in circles along the sides.
“OOWW FUCK. Yes. Drill me. Hard. Your cock feels so good. Make me cum, baby. UGH. Oh god god YES. I’m cumming. I’m cumming. AH! AAH! AAAAH! Ooooooooooh fuckkkkkk.’
Her whole body quivered, sweating like she’d ran a marathon.
“I’m not done yet,” I grunted. “I waited too long for this pussy.”
“Fuck. Dennis. You’re destroying me,” she mewled. “Don’t fucking stop.”
I fucked her in long strokes, slamming my cock all the way inside with each thrust. Grace’s head lolled, her noises loud and incoherent. She licked her own fingers, rubbed her own body, squeezed her tits and pulled her nipples.
My hands grabbed her face, played with her hair. She kissed and licked the palm. I slid a thumb between her lips, then my fingers, fucking her mouth while she sucked on them.
Both of us out of our minds with desire.
I slapped her ass, fucked her in a wild frenzy. My cock was numb from all the hard, raw fucking, but my second climax was close.
“Don’t cum inside,” she whispered. “Do it on my body.”
With a last, desperate thrust, I shot my load all over my boss. Most of it landed between her tits, a puddle of cum that leaked off her body in all directions.
After so many years. Grace, the girl of my dreams. Lying under me, naked, flustered, covered with my cum.
In the distance, the other two girls scissored to a screaming climax. The two of us barely noticed, drowning in each other’s eyes. Lost for words.
_____
It was another sad day in the office. The lamp remained broken. I’d brought fresh coffee beans, but now the machine had given up the ghost.
Grace was off, to present the photographic evidence to our esteemed gentleman client. There were multiple clear shots of Donovan, participating in what could only be described as an orgy. It should suffice to change his daughter’s mind.
I had also been in an orgy. What a crazy concept.
The fact that Grace was in those photos herself, naked and getting fucked, probably wouldn’t embarass her in the slightest. She only cared about the paycheck, and what it meant to our fledgling private investigation company.
We still hadn’t talked about that night. Things could never be the same between us again. The genie was out of its bottle.
I also hadn’t texted Heaven. She’d managed to slip her number in my pocket at some point, but I wasn’t sure if I was up for that challenge. It would depend on Grace, as well.
Speaking of the devil. The door burst open. Grace stormed in, dressed in an immaculate grey suit, and a ridiculously oversized hat.
“Dennis! We have another assignment! Get off your lazy butt, we have work to do.”
Perhaps things hadn’t changed that much, after all.
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