{ASS} New: "Double Cross" by DG [6/9]
diony...@hotmail.com
be posted tomorrow.
-DG
"Double Cross"
A Frank Stern Mystery
Š 1999 by DG (diony...@hotmail.com)
Chapter Six
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As I drove back to Jasmine Heights, I found myself thinking as
much about Detetctive Tina Callahan as I did about Claire Ingleford.
I had promised to report back to her on my visit, but now I had to
think things through. Claire really was my official client now, which
meant I wasn't supposed to discuss her case. On the other hand, Tina
could potentially help me out, especially if the San Diego police had
already collected the tapes in question. On the third hand, Tina had
a really great set of legs, and didn't seem to think I was pond scum.
When I got back to my place, I looked up Tina's number in the
phone book and dialed it.
"Hello?"
"Hey, it's Frank Stern. Did you still want to talk about my
visit with Claire?"
"Sure, why not. Did you get your money?"
"Yep."
"Good for you. How did she seem? Nervous, excited?"
"She hired me, Tina. I'm working for her now."
"What! Really? To do what? Track down her ex-husbands killer?"
She let out a high-pitched laugh..
"You don't think I'm qualified?"
"Well, come on Stern, no offense, but..."
"Never mind. She hired me on different matter. That's where it
gets awkward, my discussing it with you."
"You know, I looked up your address - you live pretty close to
me. Can we get together and talk about this?"
"Sure. I can give you the pictures I promised you."
She named a bar I knew of but had never been in: Harry's Lounge,
on Recondido. She was waiting in a booth when I got there. It really
wasn't my kind of place - quiet and chilly, with lots of leather and
walnut, and not a lap dancer in sight - but it was nice enough. Tina
had a drink in front of her, and when she saw me coming she signaled
the bartender. Since I was flush for once, I splurged and ordered a
Bombay gin and tonic.
"So...detective to the stars, eh?"
I slid in across from her. "Right. I see a whole new niche
opening up." I handed her an envelope with the pictures. She opened
it and sifted through the prints, chewing on her lower lip. I took
the opportunity to look at her closely. Her fine white-blond hair was
cut short, a practical style made feminine by soft bangs. Cool blue
eyes, a strong nose that probably had been in her family for
generations. Her skin was fine-grained and smooth. I knew she had
to be at least thirty, but she looked young enough to get carded. She
was wearing a thin white sweater that hugged her small breasts.
My drink came, and I tossed back half. It was strong and
delicious.
"Nice tits," commented Tina. "Oh, hey, cute tattoo. This guy
with her, he's the one who chased you away?"
"Yep. She referred to him later as Enrico. I get the feeling he
comes running when Claire snaps her fingers."
She closed up the envelope. "You know, you're not in any of
these."
"I left out the one where I dropped the camera on my foot and it
went off in my face."
"Really?"
"No, not really. I took the pictures, why would I be in any of
them?"
"It's just that anyone could have taken these shots, right? I
mean, we've tracked down several people who recognized Claire, but all
we have for the photographer is a vague description. You can't really
prove it was you, can you?"
"But why would I need to..." She was laughing silently, her
shoulders shaking.
I asked "How many drinks have you had?"
"A few, but that's not the problem. The previous line of
questioning is courtesy of the tortured mind of Barry Rank. He's got
a theory. He doesn't come up with many original ideas, so he's pretty
proud of it. According to my brilliant partner, Claire hired you to
kill her ex-husband. To set up an alibi for both of you, you had
someone with a passing resemblance to you take pictures of her on
Sparkle Beach while you were in San Diego committing the murder. When
she showed up at your office earlier today, it was to pay you for
whacking Cahn, and to make sure you had your stories straight."
I finished my drink in one long swallow and signaled for another.
"The old voyeur detective lookalike trick, eh?"
"Just for the record, I don't believe it's possible. Could you
blow a hole in it for me?"
The bartender brought another round. Tina was drinking whiskey
sours, and she started by eating the cherry, sliding it delicately off
the toothpick with her small white teeth and then chewing it
thoughtfully as she waited for me to respond.
"I was working here in LA both before and after. Moving
furniture, with a partner." But I was working out the timing in my
head, and I wasn't really sure if it was impossible for me to have
pulled off a quick hit in San Diego.
"I don't think it's going to come to anything unless Rank turns
up some solid evidence. The thing is, your continued association with
Claire Ingleford is going to look suspicious to him. If he finds
out."
"You mean, it will give him an excuse to keep hassling me. He
can't really think I did it."
"Probably not. Anyway, consider yourself warned. Just remember
you didn't hear it from me."
"Thanks, Tina."
"Now, let's talk about your meeting with Claire."
"I see. My back has been scratched, and now I have to scratch
yours."
She smiled, taking no offense. "If you want to put it that way."
I gave her an abbreviated description of what had taken place,
leaving out Claire's pep talk at the end and reducing the bonus to ten
thousand in case I ended up having to split it with Tina.
She stirred her drink thoughtfully. "I'm sure the San Diego
police would be interested to hear this."
"They haven't solved the case yet, I take it?"
She shook her head. "Here's what they have, or at least what
they've told me. Cahn was discovered with a single gunshot wound to
the chest, not self-inflicted. He was lying on his bed, partially
nude. He had had sexual intercourse recently. Apparently Cahn had a
long-standing habit of taking recreational lunch breaks back at his
house with porn actresses. As a director, he could pretty much take
his pick. So one of them killed him after sex, or maybe he was killed
later by an intruder. No one has come forward and admitted to
sleeping with him that day."
"Interesting. Any motive?"
"Not yet. Seems like Cahn was pretty well-liked within the
industry. These tapes you're talking about might be the motive."
"Was the place searched?"
"Yep. Score one for you. It was messed up pretty good, like
someone had gone through in a big hurry looking for valuables. You
thinking maybe whoever killed him was looking for the tapes?"
"I'm not working on any assumptions," I said. "Except the
assumption that ten grand will keep me solvent for months." In fact,
fifty grand in tax-free income would keep me afloat a lot longer than
that.
"Well, all I can say is that Claire Ingleford would be a tempting
suspect if she didn't have an airtight alibi. Lots of motive, with
this porno tape thing."
I nodded. "True. Maybe she hired some thug to kill Cahn and get
the tape back, but the guy couldn't find it."
"Possible. That would be pretty stupid of her, though. A hired
hit man would roll over on her for sure if he was caught. The risk
would far outweigh any potential benefit."
"Claire doesn't strike me as stupid. But this is beside the
point as far as I'm concerned. I'm not trying to crack the case, I'm
just trying to recover the tapes."
She gave me a playful smile. "And how are you planning to do
that? Put in an official request to search Cahn's house?"
"Yeah, right. You wouldn't rat me out, would you?"
This was an obvious opening for her to ask for a cut of the "ten
grand" bonus. I was pleased in more ways than one when she shook her
head and said "You better be careful, Stern. You get caught in Cahn's
house, you'll lose your license and maybe even do a little time. Not
to mention, Rank could fit it nicely into his pet theory."
"A UFO could be sighted over the Hollywood sign, and Rank would
work it into his theory."
She snorted a quick laugh, then held up her hand. "Let's drop
it. I gotta work with the guy, so I better not get too carried away
with this."
"Speaking of which, how'd you manage to get bumped up to
detective?"
"Several factors, I guess. Being a woman doesn't hurt, to be
perfectly honest. I got lucky on a drug bust, got some good pub for
the department and my picture ended up in the paper. Funny the way
things go sometimes. My marriage was imploding just when my career
was looking up."
"I thought you used to wear a ring."
"For three lovely, magical years. Getting married was a really
stupid idea."
"In general, or to your ex-husband?"
"Both."
"But at least you're not bitter."
"Right, that's the important thing."
She stretched her arms over her head and arched her back, causing
her nipples to poke at the fabric of her sweater. At the same time,
she turned her head to the side to examine something behind the bar.
It was a pretty obvious invitation to stare, so I did. When I go into
one of the strip joints where I'm a regular, I get this sort of thing
lot. In that case, there's no mystery at the motivation - I'm known
as a guy with a wad of small bills burning a hole in his pocket.
Claire Ingleford's motivation for rubbing up against me like a cat in
heat was also pretty clear - extra incentive to find the tapes and
stick to our deal. But what Tina wanted from me was harder to figure.
She turned her head back to me with a little smile that seemed
to be asking me if I liked what I saw.
"You ever been married, Stern?"
"Not even close."
"That's right, you're a little different, aren't you?" She
gestured at the envelope with the pictures of Claire. "What's with
the hobby?"
Normally the question would give me hives, especially coming from
a woman I was trying to flirt with. But three high-octane gin and
tonics had dulled my sense of shame. I said "It combines my love of
photography, my sincere admiration for the female form, and the thrill
of the chase."
She laughed longer and harder than the comment deserved. Two
little spots of color had appeared high on her cheeks.
"You're pretty funny, Frank. You know, you make women laugh like
that, you'll get yourself a ball and chain before you know it."
I smiled modestly.
She looked me in the eye and asked "You wanna get out of here?"
I swallowed hard. When you get used to paying for sex, you
forget that women occasionally enjoy doing it for free. It had been a
long time since I had done it this way.
I said "Sure - I saw an all-night bowling alley nearby. You
bowl?"
She giggled. "No, do you?
"God no."
Her foot rubbed my calf, then moved up toward my thigh. My leg
twitched spastically, and I pushed down on my knee to hold it in
place.
"Do I make you nervous, Frank?"
"Don't be silly." I drained my drink. There was more left than I
had realized, and it went down the wrong tube, almost giving me a
coughing fit. I stood up, and with watering eyes I dug my new thick
roll out of my pocket, peeled off a hundred dollar bill, and gave it
to the bartender. He nodded appreciatively, but made no move to get
change. I made a mental note to stay away from money pits like
Harry's in the future.
As we walked out together, we both noticed our height
differential and laughed. I was easily a foot taller.
"I should have worn my platform heels."
"I think I prefer looking down at you. Does loads for my self
confidence."
"Uh huh. Listen, I'm kinda tipsy. Can you drive me home?" She
was leaning against me, her hip pressed against my thigh.
"When you see my wheels," I said, pointing to the white panel van
with bald tires, "you may not even want to leave the parking lot."
She laughed heartily again, making me feel like I was on a roll.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I was wondering why this was
happening, but I didn't really care. She lived less than a mile away,
and she led me inside her small, neat townhouse by the hand.
She tossed her purse on the kitchen table and said "Do you want a
drink?"
"No thanks."
"Good. Neither do I."
She came into my arms, reaching up on tiptoes, and I gathered her
in and pressed my lips down on hers. She kissed me hard for a few
seconds, then her mouth softened and opened. She tasted faintly of
whisky and maraschino cherries, and her body felt lean and firm in my
arms.
"Give me two minutes," she whispered in my ear. "The bedroom is
that way." She disappeared into the bathroom.
Her bedroom was crowded with exercise equipment, the bed jammed
into one corner like an afterthought. Someone once said that you can
find out all you need to know about a person by looking at their
bookshelf. The one next to the bed was filled with hard-boiled crime
fiction and manuals on advanced police techniques, with a few
relationship self-help books lurking near the bottom. I unbuttoned my
shirt and slipped it off, then kicked off my shoes and socks. I
started to unbuckle my pants, then wondered if I would look too eager
and buckled them again. I heard soft footsteps behind me, and I
turned around.
Tina stood facing me, completely naked, her arms held loosely at
her sides and her feet slightly apart. Her body was firm and trim,
with small, pert breasts and narrow hips. She looked athletic, fit,
and confident. I didn't feel like any of those things.
"What's the matter, you never seen a naked woman before?"
"You look great," I said. I tried to keep my eyes from straying
to the little fluff of blonde hair at her pubis. I knew I should be
doing something, taking control of the situation, but I just stood
there, feeling indecisive. My hands were sweaty and ice-cold, and I
had this mental image of Tina yelping and recoiling in disgust when I
touched her.
"You look nervous," she said. "What's the matter, am I coming on
too strong?" She went over to the bed and sat on the edge, crossing
her legs modestly.
I took off my pants and sat next to her in my boxers, close but
not touching. "No. I'm just out of practice at this. I don't
date much."
"Uh huh. So how long has it been?"
"Well...the last time I was expected to uh...to satisfy a woman,
I mean...I guess about three years."
"Three years since you've had sex without paying for it, you
mean."
"Right."
"I'm not expecting you to perform any superhuman feats, Stern.
Just five or ten minutes of the standard physical act that mammals
have been doing for millions of years." She sounded a bit
exasperated, and I couldn't really blame her.
I said "Look, I'm sorry. I've never felt comfortable dealing
with women on a straight ahead level like this. It's my problem,
nothing to do with you."
"So what are you comfortable with, Stern? I'm flexible. You
want me to stand out at the end of my driveway in a vinyl miniskirt,
so you can cruise by with your window rolled down and negotiate a
quick hump in the back of your van?"
I didn't say anything. Instead of preparing for action, my cock
was trying to crawl into my pubic hair and hide.
Tina put her hand on my shoulder and sighed. "I'm sorry, Stern.
That was uncalled for. You're not the only one with some baggage in
the sexual area. My marriage was a real horror show towards the end,
and I haven't been with a man since the divorce."
"My hands are cold."
"What?"
"My hands are cold - that's part of the problem."
She started laughing. "Well, that we can fix. You see, now
we're really communicating."
She took my hand and pressed it against her right breast. It was
firm and velvety-soft, and her nipple tickled my palm as it expanded.
"Not too bad," she said bravely.
I reached around her back and cupped her left breast in my other
hand. She turned away from me slightly, making it easier, and I
squeezed the double-handful of her gently.
"Pinch them," she said softly.
She leaned back against me, and I rolled her nipples between my
fingers. She twitched and squirmed silently in my embrace like a
captured bird, her mouth set in a firm line and breathing through her
nose. I somehow knew to do it harder than seemed right.
Finally she relaxed and gasped, putting her hands over mine to
stop me.
"Yes," she said simply, and she tilted back for a long kiss. Her
hand slid into my lap and grasped my cock gently, then gave it a firm
squeeze.
"Nice to meet you, little Frank."
"Likewise."
She shifted position on the bed, and I caught the scent of her
pussy for the first time.
"You smell good," I said.
She gave me a knowing glance. "Thanks."
She lowered head down into my lap, and my cock was now raising up
valiantly to meet her. She licked delicately around the head at
first, until I was blatantly thrusting up at her, stiff as a board.
Then she put her lips around my shaft and slid her mouth slowly
downward, taking the full length into her mouth, and then slowly
pulled her head back up.
"Mmm. I'd almost forgotten how much I love having a cock in my
mouth. It's been too long." She lowered her head again and engulfed
me again in her hot mouth.
"You can borrow this one whenever you want," I said.
I could feel her lips form into a brief smile. Then she started
really sucking, pulling me in and out of her mouth in a nice, slow
rhythm. I leaned back and closed my eyes, concentrating on the
pleasure.
"You're really good at this," I said.
She lifted her head up, and stroked my wet cock with her hand.
"Like a pro, you mean?"
"Yeah, but it always feels better when it's free."
She chuckled, obviously enjoying the verbal sparring. "I always
thought, if the police thing didn't work out..."
I think she was kidding, but I didn't ask. She was busy working
on my cock again, and it wasn't really a great conversational line
anyway.
A few very enjoyable minutes passed, then she lifted her head and
looked at me.
"You feeling any better?"
"Much, thanks. Circulation is improved in all extremities."
"Great. Think we could have sex now?"
"Almost certainly. I assume you want to be on top."
She smiled. "You better watch your lip, Stern. But yeah, if I
let you get on top, I'll just have my face smooshed into your chest."
She pushed me onto my back and straddled me, took my cock in her hand
and adjusted it to the right angle. As she sunk down onto my rigid
shaft, I discovered that she was tight and muscular on the inside,
too.
"Oh my God," I said, after three or four tentative thrusts. "Do
you do like, special exercises or something?"
"You mean like shove a tennis ball up my cunt and squeeze it?
No, but thanks for asking."
"Christ, you take everything I say the wrong way..."
She was smiling. "Yeah, I know - sorry about that. I have been
told I'm on the tight side."
I smiled up at her. "This is fun - I've never had an argument
with someone while fucking. Just before and just after fucking it's
quite usual, but never during."
"Haggling over price?"
I made a face. "I know what you're doing - trying to humiliate
me so I'll last longer."
"Oh, great, don't tell me you're one of those quick-draw types."
"The first time, yes. The second time, it's much better."
She shook her head. "I've heard that one before. Guy blows his
load in ten seconds, then a few minutes later he's banging away at me
with an erection like an uncooked hotdog, and I'm supposed to be awed
and grateful."
"I'm starting to wonder how anyone gets it up at all for you."
Tina leaned forward and put her face close to mine. Her
protruding nipples brushed against my chest. "Because I'm really
good, that's how."
She contracted herself around me to make her point - it was like
a hand in a velvet glove squeezing down on my cock.
"Jesus," I moaned.
"Tell you what," she said. "You fuck me as hard as you want, and
when you feel yourself getting close to coming tell me."
"So you can get in a few nasty digs as I wrap things up early?"
"Nope - just trust me." She sat back up and we continued to
screw. She sat astride me with her back straight and her eyes closed,
a look of concentration on her face as she gyrated her hips with a
graceful rhythm.
"Remember how you pinched my nipples before?" she asked.
"Yep. Did I hurt you?"
She smiled. "A little. When I tell you to, I want you to reach
up and do it even harder, OK?"
I reached up and cupped her small breasts in my hands, and
tweaked her nipples gently. "OK."
She leaned into my hands to brace herself, and increased the
tempo, sliding her hips forward and back so that my cock was sliding
almost out of her tight hole before diving back in.
"Oh shit," I said. "Tina..."
She stopped moving and reached around behind her back. Her hand
closed around my scrotum, and for an awful moment I thought she was
going to give my nuts a good hard squeeze. Instead, she pinched my
scrotum above my balls and pulled down firmly. I felt an odd
stretching sensation, not unpleasant, and the urgency faded away. I
began to thrust into her again, and found that I was back where I was
a few minutes ago.
"Neat trick," I said. "You had me worried for a second there."
She smiled. "In order to ejaculate, your balls have to pull all
the way up tight against the base of your cock. Pull them back down,
and you interrupt the process. It's a little tricky doing it just
right, but I've had a lot of practice."
"Well, just be careful."
She chuckled. "And you better be nice."
"Did I mention how beautiful you look tonight?"
"Why thank you. Now come on, lets fuck."
The next twenty minutes were some of the most sexually intense of
my life. Tina and I went at it like a pair of rutting wolves, and
every few minutes she would repeat the scrotal pull to keep me from
coming. I've never been with a woman who took such uninhibited
physical pleasure from sex. We settled into a fast-paced rhythm, my
hips slapping up against her thighs as she ground herself around my
straining cock. Her fine blond hair became dampened with sweat, and a
pink flush spread across her chest.
"OK," she gasped finally. "Pinch my fucking nipples, dammit."
I reached up and cupped her breasts again, caught her swollen
nipples in my fingers, and squeezed hard. Tina writhed against my
hands as I drove up into her, and she stared into my eyes as she
moaned and gasped her way through a long, draw-out orgasm. Somewhere
in the middle of it, I felt the semen finally shoot up along my shaft,
spilling out into her convulsing pussy. I continued banging my cock
up into her until I was sure every drop was gone. When I was done,
Tina draped herself limply along my chest, breathing heavily.
"I'm impressed, Stern," she said in my ear. "That was pretty
damn good."
"Thanks. You too. Just out of curiosity, are my
balls going to hang down to my knees now?"
She laughed silently, her ribcage shaking. "No permanent damage,
I promise."
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Comments are welcome.
DG
diony...@hotmail.com
DG's Story Page: http://baird.pair.com/dg.htm
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