J The Sleuth Ch 03 Mommy Dearest

Jacqueline

--

Jacky

to acquaintances,

J

to her friends -- slid her slick pussy up and down the torso of her current lover for a few moments. She was revelling in the pre-insertion anticipation, before she would move a couple inches lower to engulf his rock-hard cock. Their bodies each had a light sheen of sweat -- it was hot in the guy's bedroom, right in the heart of the noon hour, in the midst of one of Toronto's ridiculous heat waves -- so her pussy lips rode up and down on him like an erotic slip 'n slide. But J was done teasing herself (not to mention him), it was time to take him inside her, and feel the girth of him spreading her pussy walls apart.

She was just about to do so when her phone rang. Based on the ringtone she knew it was her mother calling, which meant it had to be important. Her mother

never

called.

To her lover's surprise -- she really should have learned his name, but too late now -- she rolled off him to reach for the phone. She kept their bodies close, side-by-side now instead of straddling him, and started to work his cock with her left hand while her right held the phone. She might as well keep him ready, in case the call was quick and she could finish what she'd started. She smiled at the thought that she was acting as her own fluffer.

"Hello? ... Yes, who is this? ... Yes, Susan is my mother. What happened? ... I see. What's her prognosis? ... I'm in Toronto, but I can be there in three or four hours. If she wakes up before I get there, let her know I'm on my way."

She set the phone down and stared out the window with a thoughtful look on her face. Meanwhile, her hand never ceased gently fondling her lover's cock; stroking it, running her fingers lovingly over the head, sliding down to cup his balls... other women might not have handled him so expertly even with their full attention on the job.

But then she shook herself out of it, and looked back at him.

"Sorry," she said, "but I need to boogie. We'll finish this some other time. But," she got a wicked glint in her eye, "let me give you something to remember me by..." She lowered her head to take him into her mouth, and lovingly sucked him to completion, swallowing his cum, and then teasingly flicking the head of his post-orgasmic cock with her tongue, enjoying the way his body twitched every time she did. Men are so

sensitive

after they cum!

She gave him a few moments to recover, then kissed him. "You owe me," she joked with a wink. "But I gotta go."

She was dressed and out the door a few short moments later. And then, a moment after

that,

it occurred to

Josh

: they hadn't exchanged numbers -- how was he going to

find

her again?

---

The patient was finally stabilized. She hadn't been conscious when the ambulance brought her in, nor had she been carrying a purse or a wallet. Just a smartphone, which indicated her name was Susan. So

Dr. Varma

didn't know anything about the woman, except that she was in good shape for her age. It had been touch and go for a while, but she thought "Susan" was out of the woods now. They'd keep her sedated for a while, but she was reasonably confident the woman would recover.

But now it was time for another difficult job: calling the patient's family to let them know she was here. Unconscious. And, although the prognosis was positive, it would still be good for someone to be here when she woke up. She steeled herself to answer questions for which there were no answers -- including how "Susan" had sustained her injuries in the first place! -- and started to look through the phone to see if there were any emergency contact numbers.

As it turned out, the phone was locked (of course), but it had a feature that allowed access to an emergency contact from the lock screen. One cryptic name was given: "J." Dr. Varma called it.

"Hello?"

"Is this "J'?" Dr. Varma asked.

"Yes, who is this?"

"My name is Dr. Varma. I'm a trauma surgeon in the Ottawa Hospital, General Campus. I'm calling you because I have a patient who listed your number as an emergency contact; based on her smartphone, I think her name is "Susan,' though she had no ID on her person."

"Yes, Susan is my mother. What happened?"

"I'll be honest, J, I'm not exactly sure. Susan was brought here by ambulance this morning with severe trauma. She called 911 from the street, and then collapsed before the ambulance got there; if I were to

guess,

I'd say her injuries are consistent with a car accident, but she's been unconscious since she got here, so we haven't been able to ask her any questions or confirm how she was hurt. It could have been a hit and run, or it could have been something completely different. We'll find out more when she wakes up."

There was a slight pause, then, "I see. What's her prognosis?"

"That's the good news. I think Susan is going to recover fully. She's sedated right now, but we'll probably reduce her level of sedation this evening. When she regains consciousness, maybe we'll know more. It would be best, of course, if someone she knew were here when she woke up."

"I'm in Toronto, but I can be there in three or four hours. If she wakes up before I get there, let her know I'm on my way."

"I will do so. Thank you... er... J."

As the phone went dead, Dr. Varma wasn't sure what to make of the conversation. She hadn't had to deal with the questions and panic she usually had to deal with from loved ones, which had made the call easier; at the same time, she'd been thrown off, because it was odd to deal with someone who'd been so completely to the point and stoic about the whole thing. She hadn't even found out what "J' stood for, though she'd confirmed that the patient's name really was Susan -- but, shit, she hadn't confirmed Susan's

last

name! She'd have to stay "Jane Doe" on the paperwork for the rest of the afternoon. When Susan woke up, or when "J" arrived, they could fill in the details properly.

---

A little over four hours later, J pulled into the parking lot of the hospital in Ottawa. She'd broken every traffic law imaginable getting here as fast as possible, but still, four hours had felt like an eternity, and she was nervous as hell as she approached the emergency room entrance. What might have happened in that intervening time? Was her mom still okay?

However nervous she was, however, the nurse at the front desk didn't pick up on it. J always presented as calm, collected, and in control.

"I'm looking for a woman who was brought in here a few hours ago. First name Susan, last name probably not given. She might be listed as a "Jane Doe'."

The nurse consulted her computer for a moment. "Yes, here she is. We moved her to ICU an hour ago. Take the hallway there, turn right, and follow the signs. You're right, we do have her listed as "Jane Doe' for the moment, because we didn't have..."

But J was already following her directions toward ICU, where she found another nurse, at another desk.

"I'm looking for the Jane Doe who was brought in around noon?"

"Yes, room 201. And you are?"

"Her daughter."

"OK. Then I'll tell you that we've just reduced her level of sedation. She hasn't woken up yet, but she could any minute now. She'll be in a great deal of pain when she does, so we'll be monitoring that closely. Dr. Varma just left, but will be around again in another hour or so if you have more detailed questions. So far your mother hasn't had a reaction to anything, which is good, but do you know if she has any allergies we should be avoiding?"

"No, not to my knowledge."

"Excellent. There's a chair in the room, but we ask you to put on a mask before going in. You'll find a box of them outside the room."

"Thank you."

J followed the nurse's pointing finger to room 201, grabbed a couple of masks from the box, and donned one as she entered the room.

Her mother looked so small, lying there on the bed. J sat in the chair by the bed and tried not to think, as she waited for her mother to wake up.

---

Alex

sat stoically on a couch in his hotel room, thinking nothing, feeling nothing,

doing

nothing, other than waiting for a call. His phone might ring any minute now. Or an hour from now. Or not for days. It would

likely

ring soon, but however long it took he would sit here, waiting patiently. Patience was one of Alex' core strengths.

He was seated right in front of the television, but it wasn't on. Alex never watched TV, it held no interest for him. In his mind distraction was never a good thing, it was what lesser men did when they wanted to avoid thinking. Men who didn't have his level of self control.

Instead of consuming TV, he practised his meditation techniques. Eyes closed, without moving, he felt every inch of his body – toes, soles of his feet, ankles, calves, etc. – working his way up, noticing that every muscle was relaxed, until he got all the way up to his scalp. At that point, he would work his way back down. And then back up. Over and over, for as long as it took, until the phone rang.

At 6PM he'd call for room service and get something to eat, to fuel the machine, and as soon as he'd finished eating he'd go back to his meditation. He would probably order fish with potatoes; from a hotel restaurant, fish was usually a safe bet, without too many--

His thoughts were interrupted by the phone's gentle beep. He picked it up.

"Yes?"

"You called?" the voice on the other end of the phone asked.

"Yes. We must meet. The job was not what I was led to believe; I need better information."

The phrase "I need better information"

could

have been taken as an insult. It meant that the information provided so far had

not

been good. But Alex' employer knew who he was dealing with: If Alex said the information was not good it meant it wasn't, and money had been wasted on Alex' talents for no result.

"Come over tonight," the anonymous voice on the other end of the phone replied. "8PM. I'll find out what I can."

"Understood," Alex answered, before disconnecting. He paused for a moment, and then picked the phone back up and dialled a different number.

"Hey sweetie," a voice answered, so husky it was practically a whisper. "Ready to come see me again?"

"Yes," he answered. "This evening?"

"How's six o'clock?"

"Perfect. See you then."

Relaxation exercises helped, but now that Alex knew what his schedule was, it was time for some

proper

relaxation, before attending his meeting. Pouring a stream of hot cum out onto the skin of his favourite escort would provide more relaxation than any exercise would.

---

Dr. Varma's knees were hurting, but she didn't care. She sucked her cheeks in, swirled her tongue, and generally enjoyed the delectable feeling of having a cock in her mouth.

All of the interns had picked up on the fact that Varma, though ruthlessly efficient as a doctor, was also a cock-hungry slut. She regularly pulled interns into the coat closet -- where she was now -- so that she could get their cocks into her mouth and get her fill of cum.

Mmm, this one was lasting quite a while. She really needed to make her rounds and see her patients -- the Jane Doe's daughter should have arrived by now, for example -- but she couldn't abandon this beautiful cock until she'd drained it.

To her delight, the intern decided to get into it: he wrapped his hands around her head and started fucking her face, shoving his cock into her throat. She moaned in pleasure, and let herself be used for his pleasure. Before long, he was groaning, shoved balls-deep into her, and she could feel the cock spasming in her throat.

One of these days she was going to start getting female interns, and then she didn't know how she'd get her fix of cum. In the meantime, however, the boys kept arriving, and everyone was happy about the situation.

She regained her composure as she stood back up. "Well done," she said to him, as she fixed her hair and straightened her lab coat.

"Thank you, Doctor," he responded, with the slightest hint of a smirk on his face. She didn't care; she loved sucking cock, but she was still sure the boys got more pleasure out of it than she did.

Time to go check on her patients. She'd leave "Susan" until last, to be sure that the patient's daughter would have arrived.

---

Twenty minutes after arriving, J noticed a change in her mother's demeanour. Others might not have noticed -- even the nurses probably wouldn't have -- but they didn't have J's powers of observation, nor did they know J's mom like she did.

"Mom?" she murmured, keeping her voice low, in case others were within hearing distance.

"Mmm hmm," the woman responded, without opening her eyes, or even noticeably moving her lips. "Where am I?"

"Jesus, Mom, you could be a ventriloquist," J murmured. "You need to teach me that sometime. You're at Ottawa General. Trauma consistent with a car crash, but they're not actually sure

what

happened, and you weren't awake to enlighten them. You've been out for a few hours. The doctor will probably be back in thirty or forty minutes; do you want to stay and answer questions, or do we need to get out of here?"

There was a moment of silence. J was pretty sure her mom was trying to assess her injuries, before answering the question.

"There's some pain," she finally answered, "but not too bad. Nothing broken. I think I can leave. Exit plan?"

"The only way out will take us past the main desk. I've got some clothes for you here in a bag, and a mask you can wear to hide your face, but we'll still have to be careful. You'll leave first, I'll wait a moment then follow. Go out through emerg, and I'll catch up to you on the way."

"Sounds good."

J's mom finally opened her eyes, looked around for a moment, and then started removing tubes from her arm. She then took the clothes from J's bag, and quickly got herself dressed. Mother and daughter were similar sizes, so the clothes were a good fit. Finally, J handed her one of the masks, to cover her face. She took a moment to look at her daughter, and then they collapsed into a tight hug with each other -- though not

too

tight, because of the injuries.

"Let's get you out of here," J said, "and you can tell me what's going on. And I can stop calling you "Susan.'"

They both laughed quietly, and then "Susan" -- her real name was

Kimberly

,

Kim

to her acquaintances,

K

to her friends, though the hospital would never know any of that -- left the room, and strode purposefully down the hall. J was impressed; she'd glanced at her mother's charts earlier, and knew the kind of injuries she was dealing with, but nobody seeing her steady gait would notice anything off.

She waited a moment, and then left herself. Just as K was getting close to the desk, J raised her voice to distract the nurse's attention away from the woman about to pass by.

"Excuse me!" she called out. "I'm just going to run to the cafeteria to grab a coffee. If Dr. Varma comes back, can you let her know that I'll be

right

back, and to please not leave without seeing me?"

"Of course," the nurse responded in a softer voice, hoping J would take the hint and lower her voice. Did she not realize they were in the ICU? "I know she wants to talk to you, too."

"Perfect!" J responded, taking the nurse's hint to lower her voice (now that her mother was out of sight). "Back in a minute."

She strode quickly out of the ICU, hoping the cafeteria was in the same direction she was walking so that the nurse wouldn't try to correct her. She caught up with K as they went through the emergency unit. "Car's this way," she said, as they went out. "Let's not lose time, they'll realize you're gone any minute."

J led her mom to her car, they got in, and she left the parking lot as quickly as she could without drawing undue attention.

"Do you think they saw you?" K asked, as they pulled out onto Smyth Road.

"Don't

think

so," she answered. "I'm pretty sure I saw all of the cameras, and managed to keep my face looking in the wrong direction for them to capture. I can't be a hundred percent sure, though."

"Well, we can't do anything about it. And... thanks, J. I knew I could count on you."

"Of course! I take after my mom."

---

Alex arrived at 6:00 on the dot. Precision was ingrained in him; she'd said 6:00, so he showed up at 6:00. 5:59 would also have been acceptable; 6:01 would have been unthinkable.

Kitty

opened the door to let him in and then kissed him lightly before taking his hand to lead him toward the bedroom.

She was 5'0" – a good foot and a half shorter than him – with long black hair trailing down her back. She was Korean, though she'd claim whatever nationality suited her white clients: Korean, Japanese, Chinese, Thai, Hawaiian... they didn't know the difference, so she'd claim to be whatever they wanted. When she'd started escorting, a year ago, she'd experimented with faking a Chinese or a Japanese accent, to suit the "character," but then realized it wasn't necessary: any vaguely East Asian accent was fine. Which was good because any accents other than her native Korean probably weren't believable.

This evening she wore a black bra and panty set, with garters and stockings, and heels. As she led him by the hand Alex had a view of her perfect ass, sashaying behind her – which was her intent.

She didn't bother to close the bedroom door behind them. They wouldn't be here long anyway. She turned him back toward her, stood on her toes to kiss him again, and then began to gently, carefully unbutton his shirt, button by button. When done, she opened it, and lovingly ran her hand down his chest. He was in very good shape, and most men who took such good care of themselves liked to have their work appreciated. She came across such men all the time, and had learned to play into that desire. This particular man was more stoic than most, but she played the role anyway; it was part of what she did, after all. She removed the shirt, carefully and neatly folded it, and placed it on a nearby chair.

Another tender kiss, and then she knelt down in front of him. She pulled down the zipper of his pants and unbuttoned them, leaving them open for the moment. She then got down very low in front of him, so that she could undo and remove his shoes. The posture – as if she were bowing before him – was purposeful. When white men came to see Asian escorts -- whom they liked to call "oriental" -- they wanted subservience to be part of the experience.

She removed his shoes and socks, which she placed neatly by the chair, then helped him out of his pants, which she folded and placed on top of the shirt. She had left his boxer-briefs on, but she now removed those, as well, exposing his semi-erect cock, and then folded them and placed them just as neatly with the rest of his clothes. She'd treated each article of clothing as if it were a priceless artifact, to be handled with care.

As she stood before him, she reached up to kiss him again, running a hand up his chest again. His entire body was a work of art; hairless and perfect. He had muscles, but they weren't huge; he wasn't a bodybuilder. Something about him just seemed...

practical.

There was something about his body -- not to mention his stance -- that indicated he was constantly ready for action. What

kind

of action she declined to guess.

She stepped back and removed her bra, giving his eyes full access to her pert, full breasts. Her nipples hardened in the breeze from the A/C, which she hoped he'd mistake for arousal; she smiled shyly at him, and then removed the rest: She stepped out of her heels, unclipped the garters, and managed to roll off her stockings both quickly and sensuously. Finally, she removed her panties, exposing a cute little landing strip leading to her pussy.