Bulging Suspect (part two) by Sasha Steele
The mansion's sprawling garden retreat contained many unique tropical plants amongst the baths, the marble pillars and statues, the plush furniture, silk curtains and many mirrors. Its owner Manuella Mansorat lay belly down on a soft day bed. His naked backside glistened in the bright summer daylight. Like two polished marble globes each the size of a basket ball his huge butt stood out in all its magnificent glory as a man-maid kneeling between his spread thighs lavishly massaged rich exotic oils into its soft flesh that covered a deeper firmness.
Manuella was completely naked as he lazed on his day bed. His thick arms and torso were supported on soft white satin pillows. His extremely long platinum-blond hair was gathered on top of his head. Every so often he would listlessly take a sip through a straw from a tropical cocktail served by another man-maid (dressed in a scanty black and white maid's dress, as all Manuella's many muscular man-maids were), who standing in front of him.
Detective Sergent Braetan Bowes buzzed the main house from the gate at the street. He held his badge up to the viewer and announced that he had a warrant to interview heMiss Mansorat the owner of the house. Was told to wait while one of the house maids hurried to the garden spa to inform his manstress.
"By all means show the detective in," Manuella told him and the man-maid scurried away on his high heels.
Detective Bowes followed the man-maid through to the lush garden at the rear of the main house. The view overlooking the valley was spectacular. Led to Manuella the detective was slightly taken aback to find a nonplussed behemoth beauty laying naked on a day bed while a man-maid massaged his huge rear end. He saw too that heMiss Mansorat was strikingly beautiful especially his hypnotic green eyes that seemed to pierce through him.
Manuella saw that detective Bowes seemed fit and capable with manly shoulders and strong legs. He was wearing a plain light brown skirt suit with flesh tone nylons and brown pumps. His light brown hair was straight, shoulder length. Manuella immediately found him attractive.
"What can I do for you Detective Bowes?" He asked.
"I have a warrant for you to accompany me to the station for questioning."
He showed Manuella the paper work.
"I regards to what?"
"The death of one of your clients. Apparently you were the last to see him alive."
Detective Bowes saw that Manuella didn't seem the least bit concerned.
"May I get dressed first?" He asked the detective.
"Yes. But you are considered a flight risk, so I can't let you out of my sight."
"Well then," Manuella said as he turned onto his side and into a sitting position aided by his man-maids. "You will have to come and watch me dress."
And then Detective Bowes was more than just slightly taken aback when he glimpse the enormity of the monster between Manuella's legs, as it was in a state of semi arousal. Manuella's cock had been reputed as being extremely large. Back at the station they had bantered and joked about it. But this was more than extremely large. It was enormous. The biggest cock Braetan Bowes had ever seen. And to see it like this, so abruptly, was a bit of a shock.
Manuella smiled to himself. He was a consummate exhibitionist who loved to see the shock and awe in his victim's faces when he flaunted his considerable assets in front of them. Man-maids slipped high heel lounging slippers on their manstress's fat feet, helped him up and slipped a short silk robe over his husky shoulders.
"Shall we then," Manuella said, then turned and waddled away to his boudoir in the house with eight man-maids and one detective in tow.
Manuella sat in front of his vanity. Maids lifted one smooth heavy leg, then the other, drawing up his light beige colored nylon stalkings and slipping white pumps with six inch heels on his feet. They slipped white satin panties over his feet. Manuella stood so they could draw them up his massive nylon-clad thighs, wrestle his gigantic genitalia into the penal pouch, pull them over his big ass and adjust the pretty lace waistband onto his protruding pot belly. They removed his silk robe, slipped an elegant lace brassier that matched his panties over his heavy arms and shoulders, positioned the soft pads against his thick chest and did up the back strap.
He had chosen a smart white skirt suit to wear, which his man-maids fitted onto him with equal care. Manuella
sat as they added a few accessories of gold jewelry. Did his hair worn down in a loose french braid. Makeup. Fingernails. It took over an hour before Manuella stood to assess himself in the surround mirror. He turned one
way then the other and liked what he saw.
Manuella's white suit jacket fit snugly to his husky body. The plain white skirt draped from his gut and hung to just above mid thigh. It cascaded over his ass hanging evenly front and back. The skirt was long enough to cover the seat of his panties and the pretty lace elastic tops of his stockings. But it was too short to hide the pantie's bulging penal pouch with its colossal cargo of massive balls and an unusually long thick shaft, which protruded out from under the skirt's hem, curved downward and hung almost to his knees.
Satisfied Manuella turned to the detective who had patiently sat there watching him dress. He held out his arms
inferring that he was ready to be handcuffed.
"Okay, you can take me in now," he said.
The interview room was an office in which there were more police personnel than necessary to witness the interview. A couple of them kept their legs tightly crossed. Another stood behind a high back chair. Manuella knew why they were there and why they hid their crotches. He loved it. Sat with his big thighs apart and let it all hang out just to watch them melt.They had been grilling him half an hour now.
"You deny being a hooker and Senica Sandal your client?" Detective Bowes asked.
"Don't be absurd."
"You sell your cock for money. In my book that makes you a hooker."
"They gift me out of admiration."
"But you have sex with them."
"Of course."
"And you had sex with Senica Sandal the night he was murdered."
"Of course."
"Were bodily fluids exchanged?"
"Senica came in my mouth and I came in his ass."
Detective Bowes looked at the reports again. The remainder of the room squirmed trying not to get caught staring at the bulging thickly packed pantie pouch on display in front of them.
"You say you left the hotel at eleven?"
"You have witnesses to that. Yes."
Another detective came in with more reports. The exact time of death had been established putting it past eleven. Manuella was witnessed both on video and by witnesses leaving just before eleven. They had no
evidence. The interview was over and detective Bowes consented to drive Manuella home.
They rode the elevator to the underground parking. He opened the car door for the big sexy blond who had them all hot under the collar. During the interview Braeton had noticed Manuella absent minded touching himself, as he was doing now. More than a touch he was actually clutching his huge package.
"I have to pee," Manuella said.
It was by way of announcement as he had no sooner said the words before spreading his heavy thighs and began to pee through his pantie's penal pouch. They saturated there before a heavy stream burst through and splashed noisily on the cement floor where a large puddle began to take form. Braetan Bowes watched as Manuella purposely pissed his panties right there in front of him and saw that the sluty blond hooker clearly enjoyed doing it. Manuella wiped his pantie pouch with a tissue. Dropped it in the puddle and got in the car.
It bothered Manuella that he couldn't read the detective. It was easy to see the others were captivated by him. Why not Braetan Bowes? That made Manuella want him all the more.
"I don't believe it was a coincidence the murder happened so close to your leaving," Detective Bowes told him.
"So I'm still a suspect?"
"No. I just want you to be careful."
"Why Detective Bowes, I do believe you care about me."
"Look. Seriously. Here is my private number. Call if you have any concerns.
Twenty minutes after Braetan Bowes left the mansion Manuella buzzed his cell. It was a selfie video call. Manuella's sexy fat face appeared on the cell's screen. Braetan saw that his long platinum blond hair had been let down. Manuella's beautiful green eyes were closed. He had a look of blissful pleasure on his face. Let out a low ecstatic whimper and Braetan realized that Manuella was masturbating.
Manuella played the camera down his voluptuous body so that Braetan could view his most cherished prize. Manuella's hand could hardly encompass half the thickness of his elephantine cock shaft. His enormous balls looked ready to burst. The cock head had emerged from its foreskin on a thick six inch long neck that was beet red. Manuella's chubby hand moved quickly back and forth along the glistening foot long shaft from its root to were the neck emerged. Manuella moaned with pleasure. He was about to cum.
Braetan heard Manuella cry out as hot cum sprayed on the mirror that he stood in front of in his boudoir. His massive cock spit out discharge after discharge until Manuella finally emptied himself. Manuella was breathing heavily. He turned the camera toward the mirror so that Braetan could take full pleasure of his beauty. Manuella was clad only in his high heels, stockings and brassier. He bore down and pee washed away his cum from the mirror.
Manuella turned the camera back to his pretty face. He blew Braetan a kiss and then the screen went black. Braetan had pulled to the side of the road to take Manuella's call. He stared at the blank screen a moment before coming back to the realization that his hand was under his skirt on his hard cock and his panties were soaking wet as he had just cum in them.
Braetan pulled himself together. He couldn't allow himself to get involved with a hooker no matter how upscale he was. Still he was concerned for Manuella's safety. Braetan needed a drink so he turned around and pulled into the bar he had just passed on the road. He downed a shot of whisky and tried to get Manuella's cock out of his mind. It was going to take more than one drink.
End of part two