Angel Rhodes Files: #1 - Case of the Naughty Daughter
I was heartily sick of divorce cases until Louise walked into my life. It seemed I spent my whole life skulking around, getting spousal infidelity on tape to jack up alimony payments or force through divorces. I knew that becoming a Private Investigator wasn't going to be all glamorous, but I was sick of working for rat-faced old men who were terrified their trophy wives were fucking the pool boy, or bored rich wives who fucked the pool boy but begrudged their husbands their indiscretions with horny college girls out for sugar daddies.
When Louise walked into my office at around ten one morning, I knew something was different straight away. She was the most stunning creature I'd ever seen in my life. Well, one of them, but a little hyperbole never hurt anyone. She looked exotic and absolutely luscious, sort of like the actress slash model Milla Jovovich but bustier and slinkier. She was the most feline creature I'd ever seen, with gorgeous slanting green eyes and red hair cut close to her head. She was dressed casually, in loose-fitting jeans and a tight-fitting jersey, a jersey that showed off her impressive chest to perfection.
"My name's Louise West," she said, extending her hand. We shook, I asked her to sit and offered her coffee but she brushed away all my offers.
"I need your help," she said, and her voice made me shiver even more, a low sexual purr that made me tingle. "I think my daughter's cheating on me."
Needle goes sliding across the mood music record, bringing it to a slurred halt. What did she just say? Her daughter's cheating on her? This is a new one on me. My expression must have shown it all.
"I'm sorry if I shocked you," she went on, "I was told that you'd be open minded enough to help in my, ah, unique situation."
I gave her a sly smile.
"And who's been telling tales out of school?" I asked her.
"Clarissa Murray. I've heard all about you from her. She says you were fantastic in her case. In more ways than one," she said, her eyes running up and down my body.
Well, well, little Clarissa Murray. I taped her husband cheating on her, and she cheated on him with me. A little blonde wildcat, all fluffy curls, big breasts and a tongue that never stopped. Never stopped talking or licking.
"So you know Clarissa quite well, do you?" I asked innocently.
"Clarissa been a very good friend to me in times of trouble," she said, a smile curving her full lips.
I immediately pictured them together, Louise's red head buried between Clarissa's thighs, Clarissa's tongue dancing over Louise's nipples. I shouldn't accept such beautiful clients, I can't concentrate on the job.
"Look," I said, "I'll accept your case. That's fine."
"What do you charge?" she asked, her hand reaching into her bag.
"For a lady as lovely as you," I said, "I just need an oral contract."
Louise giggled.
"I bet you use that line on all the girls," she said, moving around the desk towards me.
Okay, if you're going to be picturing what comes next, you're going to have to have a description of me somewhere in here, I guess. I've been described by a few people as an Amazon. Since it's generally been by people who are exploring my body at the time, I choose to take it as a compliment. At the very least, I'm striking. I'm just over six feet tall, with shoulder length blonde hair and eyes that can't decide whether they're blue or green. To use the common parlance, I'm stacked. I carry .38 Specials to match my 38DD's. My legs are long and lovely, and my pussy is silky smooth. Most men are intimidated by me (but I respect those who still want to take me on) and I drive most women into frenzy.
Louise was no exception.
"Ever since I saw those pictures Clarissa has of you, I've thought you were totally gorgeous. But when I walked in here and saw you for real, I just had to have you no matter what."
I love being flattered. And I love wanton women who are horny enough to just walk into someone's office and ravish them on their own desk. Hell, I'm one of them.
"I haven't been licked properly in ages," I said, stretching the truth just a little, "I so desperately need a woman's touch."
I could see the gleam in her eye but then she was kissing me and the music swelled to a peak. I could feel her firm breasts pressed against mine. I swivelled my body slightly so I could press my pussy against her thigh and I started rocking against her, the motion rubbing the gusset of my g-string over my cunt so it slid between my pussy lips and stretched in tight over my hard clit. Her hands were desperate for me, roaming over me, underneath my prim and proper work blouse and up to the silky cups of my wicked work lingerie. My hands were all over her as well, slipping down the back of her jeans to caress her perfect ass, cupping it in my hand and pulling it in close to me so that her cunt pressed up against my hip, grinding down hard. She was stripping me, tugging at my clothes.
"I want to see those tits," she gasped in my ear. "I want to hold them and lick them and feel them against me."
I wanted to see her as well, to see if what looked like a glorious body when dressed would look even better when naked. I pulled her jersey up and her breasts spilled out, big and buoyant and delightful. I took them in my hands, caressing them gently. Her areolae were small but her nipples were big and long and just begging to be sucked and bitten. Her hands reached around and unclasped my bra, letting the twins out (which is always asking for trouble).