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Subject: {ASSM} New TG from Waldo - Marlowe - Part 2 of 7
Date: Tue, 17 Oct 2000 00:10:19 -0400
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Marlowe
By Waldo (mellin6695@aol.com)
If you're not an adult or interested in stories with strong
sexual content, then don't read any further. All rights
reserved by the Author.
This may be re-posted on the Internet on free sites such as
Fictionmania, Sapphire's Place or other non-pay sites where stories
are distributed for free to the public. Just send me an e-mail
telling me where you've posted it.
Chapter 1 - The Client (cont)
"Two years? It's very difficult to find people that are missing a few
hours much less two years. Do you have any photographs of your
husband?"
She opened her purse and pulled out a floppy disk. I glanced at my
computer and wondered if I remembered how to work the damn
thing. Holding out the disk as she leaned forward slightly, my eyes
traveled from the disk held delicately between her fingertips, up
her long slender arm to the top of her dress. Her slight forward
lean caused the dress to expose a little more of the top of her right
breast. Right then and there, I gave her right breast a name.
Juanita. Yeah, I named it Juanita because Richard was screaming
"I wanta eata" at the sight of that lush mound barely contained
within that tight dress.
"My husband was a computer nerd and spent a lot of time prowling
the Internet. When he left me, he destroyed all of my pictures of
him. It was only recently that I found these old photographs of
him on a web site."
Rising out of my seat to walk around the desk to accept the disk
from her, I discovered that Richard was causing my trousers to
look like a tent and Richard was the tent pole. Turning toward the
computer to hide the unusual shape within my trousers, I
muttered a quick excuse that would explain why I was walking
toward her in a sideways crab-like walk so that the front of my
trousers was hidden from her view. "I'll turn my computer back on
and let it warm up. Would you like a cup of coffee?"
I was using the movement to keep the front of my trousers hidden
from her. Flipping on the switch, I walked around my desk moving
sideways as I went toward the coffee pot.
"Yes, that would be nice, Mister Marlowe. I like plenty of cream in
my coffee."
I tried to ignore the electrical shock that seemed to burn a hole in
my trousers because of the dual meaning of her request. Richard
was screaming at me that he would put the cream in her coffee if I
would just give him the chance to come out into the open.
Pouring us both of a cup, I felt that I was lucky that I had one
clean cup, which I used for her coffee. Standing at the coffee pot, I
glanced back at her and saw that she was still holding the floppy
and was looking at it with a sad look on her face. While she was
busy, I used the opportunity to shove Richard into a more invisible
position where he was restrained by my belt. Carrying a cup of
coffee back to her, I handed her the cup and accepted the disk
from her. Going back around my desk, I put the floppy into the
drive slot as Richard screamed at me again "I want to put my
floppy into her slot."
Ignoring the mental battle that I was having with my own body, I
called up a program and looked at the files on the disk. There
were about thirty bitmapped image files. Using my program, I
called up the first one and was almost shocked at what I was
seeing. It was a slender naked young man wearing a woman's
cheap black wig. Oh, yeah, he was running his hands up the side
of his body as if he was feeling a woman's body. He was on a cheap
flowered couch, the type of couch usually found in hotel rooms.
This was her husband?
I didn't know what to say and was about to look at another image
when she placed her coffee on my desk and moved around the
desk so that she was standing behind my chair looking at the
image over my shoulder. That close, I could strongly smell her
wonderful perfume.
"My husband was into kinky sex. No whips, chains or stuff like
that. I could've handled that and would have gladly participated
with him if it had been something like that. He was a secret cross-
dresser when we married. I found out about it about two months
after our wedding when I found a suitcase full of women's clothes
and they weren't mine. He lied to me about whom they belonged to
and why they were in our house. But I came home from the Beauty
Parlor early one day and found him standing in front of a digital
camera taking pictures of himself. It hurt me to see him like that.
He was wearing black stockings held up by a garter belt, a bra
filled with falsies, a woman's long curly red wig and lipstick. The
suitcase was open and one of the dresses was lying on the bed as if
he had just taken it off. Because I caught him in the act, he
couldn't lie about his fetish anymore so he told me the truth. All
his life he thought that he was a girl trapped in a man's body. He
said that the only time that he felt natural was when he was
dressed as a woman. He was taking the photographs of himself to
send to someone on the Internet where he was having an e-mail
type of relationship. Look at the third photograph."
Staring at the man's photograph had caused Richard to go back to
a more normal shrunken size. I gladly closed that photograph and
called up the image that she suggested.
It showed a photograph of the same man. He was dressed in
fishnet stockings, high heels, a short red dress that displayed most
of his legs, and one of those cheap women's wigs that you can buy
through mail order. His wrists had several of those cheap K-mart
type bracelets and there were several gaudy rings on his fingers.
Big hoop earrings dangled from each ear and his lips were thickly
coated with bright red lipstick.
Using my mouse, I zoomed in on his face and blew it up. Although
it became very grainy when I did that, I was able to get a better
understanding of his facial features. Although the cheap wig's
dangling locks covered a lot of his face, I was able to see enough to
know roughly what he looked like. He had a long straight nose,
brown eyes and thick eyebrows that suggested that he had a
strong Italian heritage. It wasn't a rugged he-man type of face, even
with the big nose. More of an always-going-to-look-like-a-kid's
slender face.
"That's one of the photographs that he took that day. While it
certainly doesn't look like the Greg Browning that I married, it's
the best photograph of his face that I currently have. He destroyed
all the other photographs when he left me."
Using my mouse, I sent a copy of the screen to my printer. As my
printer clicked alive, I felt an unexpected warmth near my right
shoulder. She was leaning over to look at the monitor and her left
breast was only about an inch away from my shoulder. Richard,
who had been quiet for the last several seconds, screamed at me to
spin in my chair so that I could accidentally bump her breast with
my nose. It would be a cheap thrill but when you're divorced,
horny and broke, you have to go for what you can get.
I ignored Richard because I didn't want to lose this case. I needed
the money and she definitely had money.
Her soft husky voice coming from barely over my shoulder caused
Richard to rise to attention again. "Greg was a software genius. He
created a program, which quickly made a fortune for us. When he
left me, he left a paper on the table signing over all rights to the
software to me as well as his share of our belongings so I'm now a
multi-millionaire, thanks to him. Although I didn't understand his
need to dress like that, I tolerated it because I loved him. What I
couldn't tolerate was some of his other actions. Look at
photograph five."
While calling up that image, my mind was whirling with all sorts of
questions as I made assumptions. I've got to get her to hire me to
find her husband for her. Then I've got to spend at least one night
in bed with her. Then I've got to get her to dump the husband and
hook up with me. Once she was introduced to Richard, she was
going to fall in love with me and forget about this creep forever.
Yeah, I could go for having a rich beautiful girlfriend about now.
Then I saw photograph five.
Richard went from being a tent pole to being a wiggle worm
immediately. It was a photograph of a man's ass with his pale
white ass cheeks spread. The man was bent over with his ass in
the air and his head turned to look back at the camera. He had on
a cheap black wig that hid most of his face but I saw enough of his
big nose to know it was her hubby.
"Greg wasn't satisfied with just occasionally dressing up and
taking photographs of himself. He liked to flirt so he took these
photographs to see if he could find a boyfriend on the Internet. I
suppose that he was trying to entice someone into sending him e-
mail. Look at photograph eight."
If the trend of the photographs was going to continue to get worse,
then I personally didn't want to look at photograph eight. While
I've dipped Richard into several women's anal openings over the
years and greatly enjoyed it, seeing a man's wide-spread anal
opening just didn't create the same erotic feelings for me.
Looking at photograph eight, I felt Richard turn from being a wiggly
worm to being a very limp small noodle. The photograph showed
her hubby lying on a bed wearing the same black wig, lipstick and
pantyhose. However he had an erection under the pantyhose that
reached almost to his belly button. An erection so big and hard
that Richard knew that he couldn't compete.
"Greg was very well endowed. That was one of the reasons that I
fell in love with him. I enjoy making love to a man with a big cock
and Greg was able to consistently satisfy me."
Hearing her husky voice say the words "big cock" only a few inches
behind my right shoulder caused Richard to leap to life again. Yes,
her missing husband did have a big cock but my Richard was
determined to be just as big and hard. And her husband was
missing while I was here with Richard all ready to solve this
beautiful client's very personal needs. I was about to risk turning
in my chair slightly and to bump my shoulder against her very
close breast when she moved closer to me and rubbed that
magnificent breast against the back of my shoulder as she pointed
at the monitor with her long fingernail. Yeah, she rubbed her boob
against my back, which pleased Richard and also me. So what if
there were several layers of clothing between her boob and my
flesh. I felt something through those layers that I knew had to be
her nipple.
She used her fingernail to trace the outline of her husband's
erection on the grainy photograph on my computer screen. Her
voice was getting huskier as if the photograph of her missing
husband's erection was causing her hormones to leap into high
gear. Seeing her red fingernail trace the outline of her missing
husband's erection on the monitor caused me to want to run out to
buy a digital camera to take some naked photographs of myself to
give her. Richard was screaming at me that the image was
Memorex and that he was the live thing.
"Greg could fuck all night. I thought that I was the luckiest
woman in the world until I saw this photograph and discovered
that there were other things that turned him on even more than I
could turn him on. Look at that beautiful erection. Even looking
at it now under these circumstances is enough to cause me to feel
all icky inside."
SHE FELT ALL ICKY INSIDE?
Lady, if I didn't need the money from this case, I would tell you
exactly how I felt and then do my best to see if I could make you
feel even more icky.
Richard was throbbing within my trousers. Throbbing so hard that
I could feel it in my temple. The throbbing was beating "fuck her,
fuck her, fuck her, fuck her, fuck her" in a language that I clearly
understood.
"Sorry Mister Marlowe, I suppose that I shouldn't get so crud but I
need to express to you how I feel. Although I was very confused
when I found out about Greg's secret cross-dressing, I stayed with
him because he could make me forget about his occasional little
forays. When we were in bed, he was all man and he made me feel
like the luckiest woman in the world. Every time that I would think
about leaving him because I knew that he was doing something
like taking these photographs or secretly corresponding with some
of his buddies on the Internet, he would fuck me until I was so
weak and mellow that I couldn't think straight. I'm a very sensual
woman and need a lot of loving. Greg could give me that loving and
most of the time we had a perfect marriage. Go to photograph nine
please."
I turned my head slightly to glance down at that perfect breast that
was still touching my shoulder and let my gaze drift up to those
perfect lips that just said, "fuck me". I felt beads of perspiration
beginning to form on my forehead and Richard was throbbing so
hard that I was afraid that he was going to rupture. I could see the
headlines now "Dead Man found with exploded dick."
It took a lot of self-control to turn my head back to the monitor and
to call up photograph nine when I really wanted to jump to my feet,
spin her around, bend her over my desk, jerk her dress up above
her hips and show her that Richard could satisfy her just as much
as her missing husband used to satisfy her.
Photograph nine shocked me. The camera had been moved closer
so it was placed between the man's spread ankles and was a shot
up his body so that you saw his erection, flat pasty-white chest
under a red bra and his face which was still half hidden by the
cheap wig. He was still wearing the pantyhose but there was cum
all over the inside of the pantyhose.
It might have been my imagination but it seemed that her voice
was even huskier. "Greg could produce an endless supply of cum.
Sometimes when we were doing oral sex on each other, I would
think that I was going to drown in what seemed like buckets of
cum that he would squirt into my mouth. Just looking at that
particular photograph makes me recall so many fond memories of
lying in bed with him sucking on his cock and then how he would
easily fill my mouth with his warm cum almost as fast as I could
swallow it."
As she was saying those words, I started losing total control of
Richard. It felt like Richard was an oilrig in my trousers the way
that I jerked and shuddered from the gusher exploding within my
trousers. I couldn't help myself. Without any physical help from me
but just from the sound of her sweet voice describing her sex life
with her missing husband, the combination of events caused
Richard to explode.
I knew that she was aware that something was wrong with me
because my hands were shaking, my lips were quivering and I was
feeling a very warm liquid oozing down my belly within my trousers
that Richard was discharging. That hadn't happened to me since
the tenth grade when Betty Lou what's-her-name flashed her tits
at me and then let me smell her finger in Study Hall.
I felt her pull away from me and I bit my lip to try to regain control
of my thinking process. This was a client. This was a client. Don't
do anything to lose this fucking client. I want to fuck this client.
She moved around my desk and picked up my pack of cigarettes
from the desk as she looked at me a Mona Lisa smirking type of
mysterious smile as if she knew why I was acting so funny all of a
sudden. Shaking one of the cigarettes out, she slipped it into her
mouth while she looked at me as if she was trying to decide if she
should try to push me a little further. Knowing that I had to
pretend that everything was normal with me as I felt that warm
liquid within my trousers, I fumbled for the lighter and flicked it
into a small flame. Holding the cigarette in very tightly pursed lips,
she bent over my desk toward the lighter. Her slender hands
grabbed my still shaking wrist to hold the lighter's flame rigid as
she guided the cigarette in her beautiful red lips toward the
lighter's flame. I was staring down her open bodice at her tits
hanging perfectly like two beautiful orbs. If I hadn't exploded forty
seconds earlier, I would have done it then at the sight of those
perfect tits. So what if they were man-made. I'm a man and I
wanted to leap onto those boobs.
Although there was a wet icky feeling within my trousers from the
gusher, Richard was still just as hard as a rock.
Easing back into my client's chair, she leaned back in the chair,
resting her arm on the chair arm as she held the cigarette high as
if she was feeling very mellow herself. Her voice still sent cold chills
down my backbone but she sounded more relaxed as if we were
two old friends sitting around bull-shitting. "The other photographs
are about the same. Greg showing his white ass sticking up in the
air. Greg showing his hard erection. Greg wearing pantyhose.
Greg wearing a bra. Greg dressed in a donated dress that he
bought from the Salvation Army. Close-up of Greg's lower face as
he puts lipstick heavily on his lips. He took the photographs over
two years ago while he was living with me. I just saw them for the
first time when I found them last weekend on an Internet site
mixed in with thousand's of photographs of other people similarly
attired. You can keep that floppy. I've got several copies of them on
my home PC."
She was leaning back in the chair but her nice ass was resting on
the edge and her legs were spread wide offering a nice cheap thrill
for Richard. I couldn't see all the way up her skirt to see if she did
have any panties on but I could see enough of her creamy thighs to
know that I had to have this woman.
"I want you to find Greg for me. I don't know where he's at or what
he's doing. But I suspect that he's still heavily into cross-dressing
and is probably living with someone that he met through the
Internet who liked his photographs. Hell, it wouldn't surprise me
to learn that he might be living as a woman now. I would hate to
learn that he had that magnificent cock cut off but if that's what
he wanted, then more power to him. Will you take my case, Mister
Marlowe?"
Hell, I was thinking about paying her to let me take this case. With
my current caseload, my current financial situation, and a client
as beautiful as her, I wasn't about to turn her down. No sir, this
was a woman who needed help. And Richard and I would love to
help this poor little girl.
Shaking my head in an affirmative nod, I was surprised to hear the
words come my lips as I upped my own fee because I knew that
she could certainly afford me at my new rate. "Three fifty a day
plus expenses. No guarantees. If I find him, what are you going to
do?"
Leaning forward and snuffing out her half-smoked cigarette in my
ashtray, her voice sounded deadly calm. "Although he treated me
dirty by sneaking off and abandoning me the way that he did, I still
love him very much and would give him another chance. I have a
lot to talk to Greg about. I need to tell him about the many nights
that I waited in our lonely big bed for him to come back home to
my aching arms. I need to tell him that I still love him and would
consider trying to do what it takes to make our marriage work
again. I need to tell him that I still don't understand his very
strange needs but that he can do whatever he wants as long as he
treats me the way that he used to treat me. I need to tell him that I
need a good fucking and that if he doesn't scratch this strong itch
burning deep inside my body, that I'm going to find someone else
to do it for me. Two years of being celibate has almost turned me
into a virgin again."
The pounding in my temple was starting again. Richard's strong
voice was screaming "take me, take me, take me, take me" over
and over.
"Anyone that has been missing for two years might be difficult to
find. How long do you expect me to look for him?"
She opened her purse and removed a check that she laid on the
desk. It was signed and the Pay-to field was left blank. But it was
made out for twenty thousand dollars. "Mister Marlowe, I expect to
spend at least that much and more if necessary. If you find him in
a few hours, then the difference is your bonus. If you haven't
found him by the time that you've earned that, then I'll consider
writing another check."
Rising to her feet as if she considered this interview to be finished,
she pointed at my computer "On the floppy is a text file with the
information that you'll need about Greg. It also has my address
and private phone number. When you've found something, you'll
know where to find me."
I found myself coming around the desk to escort her to the door. I
knew that Richard was still creating a tent in my trousers but I
didn't care. After the short and very frank discussion with this
prime example of horny and very beautiful woman-flesh, I wanted
her to know what sort of effect that she had on me.
Taking one last glance at her perfect rounded breast outline, I
mumbled "I'll be by to give you progress reports."
A smile formed on her beautiful lips. A mischievous smile as if she
had a joke to share with me. Her husky voice caused me to stare at
her beautiful red lips as she uttered one last comment. "Mister
Marlowe, it looks like you have to be more careful. You spilled your
coffee on your trousers."
Glancing down at my erection, I saw that my trousers were indeed
wet. But I knew that she was aware that the wetness wasn't
caused by coffee but by her effect upon my male libido. This was
one sexy woman and I was determined that I was going to spend
some time in bed with her once this case was completed.
"Uh, yes. I did spill some coffee."
Without waiting for me to be a gentleman, she opened my door.
Standing in the doorway, she turned back to face me. Her pretty
green eyes were gleaming as if she was reading my mind and
knowing what I was thinking about doing to her. I was surprised
when her hand clicked off the light switch, plunging my office back
into relative darkness. Standing halfway in the hallway, she giggled
"Why don't you resume that nap that you were taking when I
barged in on you."
Then she pulled the door shut leaving me standing in the middle of
the floor with a big damp erection in my trouser and me in the
dark.
Grabbing Richard, I held him tightly wishing that I had an office
with a bathroom at that moment. Richard was still demanding
relief and there wasn't a close-by place to easily clean-up the mess
in my trousers at this moment. She was one sexy babe and I knew
that I was going to greatly enjoy this case.
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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