"Robin Hoode...P.I." by BettyBoop4717@hotmail.com
My name is Robin Hoode. Yeah...I know...but what can I tell you? My old lady must have got laid in Sherwood Forest or something, wherever in the fuck Sherwood Forest is. England I think. Don't laugh! It could have happened! I'm a PI, licensed in the state of Indiana. Indianapolis, Indiana. Sounds exciting, doesn't it? Yeah...just about as exciting as a used Tampax!
It was raining like hell that late Tuesday afternoon. After I locked up my rathole of an office, I slid into my dented Camaro and pulled out into the traffic. As usual, my fucking wipers were wigging out on me again so I had to try to look between the raindrops to even drive. I pulled to the curb in front of the first bar I came to, deciding to wait the rain out with a cool drink in my Hand.
The bar was one of those neighborhood joints that are scattered around town. You know the ones I mean...a jukebox and a pool table. They should have named this one No Cheers after that dipshit TV show. There was an old geezer sitting at the end of the bar nursing a beer, his bleary eyes focusing on my legs as I slid onto the barstool. I know better than to wear a short skirt like I had on, but it helps to flash some leg when the prospective customer is male. Sometimes even women... I'm an equal opportunity flasher.
The female bartender glided to a stop in front of me. She had bleached her hair so fucking many times it was some indiscriminate shade between red and blonde, and she had as much make-up painted on her face as that preacher's wife used to wear. Tammy Faye or whatever the fuck her name was. It only took me a second to check out her hair, but a little longer for me to check out her tits! She was wearing a push-up bra of some kind because those puppies were trying to climb out of her pretty pink blouse. I would have bet the farm this bitch made a lot of tips just for letting the customers ogle her knockers.
"Hi," she said now, her eyes boring into mine. "What can I get you."
I stared right back at her, then slowly and deliberately scraped my tongue across my lips. It had been a long time since I had cuddled up to some soft marshmallow piece of fluff. I wondered if besides being a bartender she might have an after hours gig as well. "A Coors light," I smiled at her. "And anything else you might have to offer."
Her brown eyes turned suspicious."You a cop?"
"Nah," I shook my head. "Well...sort of. I'm a PI." I figured I might need information from her sometime. You never know. "But I'm on my own time now," I added with what I hoped was a sexy smile.
She turned her head to glance at the far end of the bar where a balding man was washing glasses at the bar sink. Reaching into the cooler, she brought up a bottle of Coors and set it on the bar in front of me. "I don't usually make it with women. Especially not with the bowwows that come in here. For you I might make an exception. Which way do you swing? You do or get done?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "Whatever!"
"Thirty if I do you...twenty if you do me." She leaned her elbows on the bar and smiled at me. "I'm clean," she said. "Shaved too."
A shaved pussy! Sold! "When and where, brown eyes?"
She glanced at her wrist. "I can take a thirty minute break right now. My apartment is just upstairs."
How fucking convenient, I thought to myself. I'd bet that this bitch did a lot of after hours business upstairs! I took a swallow of beer, then smiled at her. "I think I'll go for the thirty dollar special. You do me!"
"The stairway is in the back," she said. "Just give me five minutes then go around the building and come on up."
Without waiting for an answer, she turned on her heels and moved to the end of the bar to say something into the other bartender's ear. Then with one more glance over her shoulder my way, she went into the back. I took my time finishing my beer, then slid off the barstool. The white haired asshole at the end of the bar was still looking at me, so as I slid off the stool I spread my knees wide apart to give him a look up under my skirt. All he could see was my panties but he was choking on his beer as I slid out the door and into the rain.
By the time I had went around the building to the back I was soaking wet, my blouse plastered on me like a second skin. I pushed the wooden door open and squished my way wetly up the stairs to the top where she was waiting. "In here," she said, pushing a door open. "I'm sorry you got wet!" I stepped into the room, looking quickly behind the door. Force of habit I guess. I just don't like surprises.
It was really little more than a bedroom with a tiny kitchen at the far end. But everything was clean and the bed looked freshly made up. She locked the door and looked at me expectantly. Understanding where she was coming from, I dug my wallet out of my purse and fished out a twenty and a ten and handed it to her. She pocketed the money in her jeans, then smiled at me as she began to unfasten them.
"Are you going to take your clothes off?"
I mentally shrugged my shoulders and pulled my still wet blouse up and over my head, hooking it over the bedpost. By the time I had stripped off my bra, she was already naked. When I looked down at her shaved pussy my stomach turned a somersault. The word is that whores don't kiss, but when I yanked her into my arms and planted one on her she sure as hell didn't try to stop me. She just rammed her tongue into my mouth and belly fucked me right there by the bed.
I guess I must have forgot that I was the "doee" and not the "doer" because I just pushed her down on the bed and I kneeled down on the carpeted floor between her legs. She made a little squeal as I pressed my face into her crotch, then hooked her legs over my shoulders when I started licking that gorgeous pussy. Using my fingers, I pulled her cunt lips apart and jammed my tongue as deep inside her snatch as I could get it. Then I sucked her clit between my lips and started swirling my tongue like I enjoy having someone do me. I slid one hand under her cheeks and my middle finger slipped into her asshole.
I could hear her start to moan softly above my head as I finger fucked her ass and tried to suck her insides out. It was only a minute before she arched her back and started coming, a squirt of piss hitting my tongue. The bitch could have told me she was a squirter, but it wasn't all that bad. I licked her a minute longer, then I rose shakily to my feet to stand beside the bed looking down at her. She was just starting to get her breath back and she looked up at me with those baby brown eyes.
"Do you ever arrest people?" she asked out of nowhere.
"In a way," I nodded. "Bail jumpers and people like that. Why?"
"She actually blushed a little. "Do you ever have to get rough with them? The people you arrest I mean?"
"Once in a while," I nodded. I was beginning to get her drift. "Sometimes I have to slap them around and make them behave."
"Really? I guess I didn't behave a few minutes ago...you know...when I peed in your mouth? I'm sorry! Maybe you should punish me?"
"Do you think I should punish you?"
"Uh-hunh."
I leaned down and slapped her on the side of her face. Hard! She grunted and slid a hand in between her legs. I slapped her again and she started fingering herself. I climbed onto the bed and straddled her head and smashed my cunt down onto her face. I started smacking her on her tits and sides like I was riding a fucking horse in the rodeo and she was licking my pussy like there was no tomorrow and then I was coming in wave after wave of sensations...
It had stopped raining when I got downstairs again into the Camaro. The bitch had kissed me again and almost begged me to take my money back, but I made her keep it. She had earned it. I wondered how she was going to explain the redness on her cheeks when she went back downstairs. Shit...they were probably used to it. I was pretty fucking sure I wasn't the first one she had asked to rough her up a little. I drove to my crummy apartment and fell into bed.
The guy bounced into my office two days later. Thursday, the 17th. He introduced himself as Roger Carlton, then sat down on the other side of my desk facing me. Somewhere past forty, he wasn't all that bad looking. Slightly balding, the beginnings of a gut, he smiled nervously at me across the desk. I got up and circled the desk to sit on the edge of it, crossing my legs to make him relax.
"I think my wife is cheating on me with another man," he said, reluctantly moving his eyes away from my legs. "She hasn't been home from work until late several times in the last two or three weeks. I want you to find out for me! Her name is Catherine. Cathy is her nickname!"
"My rate is Forty an hour plus expenses," I said, judging he could afford it with the suit he had on. "I'll need a two hundred dollar retainer." He pulled his checkbook out and quickly filled out the check. I dropped it casually behind me on the desk. "So tell me about your wife. Did you bring a photo?"
"Yes," he nodded, digging into his inside pocket. "Here it is."
She was younger than he was. A lot younger from the look of the photo. Brunette and pretty, a real knockout! I figured this dude was already in trouble. "Where does she work?" I asked. "And what are her hours?"
"She's a receptionist at a dental office. Doctor Harold Stern on North Meridian. She's supposed to get off at five o'clock, but sometimes she doesn't get home until after ten. Say's she had to work late and then stopped for a drink."
"Did she ever tell you where she stops for that drink?"
"Yeah. The Purple Tree Lounge there at 16th and Meridian."
"I know the place," I nodded. "It might take me two or three days before I'll be able to tell you anything. It all depends on your wife. I'll see where she goes after work."
I slid off of the desk to my feet, his eyes on my legs again. "Give me an address and a phone number where I can reach you."
He reached in his pocket again and handed me a business card. It read:
Roger Carlton
Investments
403 71st Street Broadripple, Indiana
555-7474
We shook hands and he was gone.
At least it wasn't raining, but it was boring sitting in the Camaro across the street from the dental office from 3:30 on. She came out at exactly six minutes after five. And I was right. She was a knockout. I watched the wiggle of her ass as she walked to a late model Mercedes. Yeah...there was money floating around in that family. I waited until she turned south on Meridian then fell in about a block behind her. She drove straight to the Purple Tree Lounge and I felt like yipping with delight. This one might be easy.
I waited until she went inside the combination Motel and Lounge, then parked my car in a no parking zone and hung my PI card in the window. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. All you can do is roll the fucking dice and hope. I crossed the street and went into the entrance of the Motel. The lounge was on the right and it was so dimly lit that I stood just inside the door until my eyes adjusted. I saw the mark sitting at a table by herself. Crossing the room, I slid onto the stool and ordered a Coors from the young, pony-tailed hunk behind the bar.
Where I was sitting gave me a good vantagepoint to keep an eye on her. She was drinking something in a tall glass and seemed entirely unconcerned about anything. I motioned the young dude behind the bar to come nearer. "Excuse me, honey," I smiled my "get in my panties" smile at him. "That woman sitting over there? I think I might know her but can't remember her name. Do you happen to know who she is?"
"Yeah. Her name is Cathy. She comes in once or twice a week and sits by herself and has three or four drinks. Nice lady. She never lets any of the guys that come in buy her a drink or anything. A lot of them try too. She just sits there by herself and then leaves about nine thirty or so."
"Thanks," I said, pushing a five spot across the bar, which quickly disappeared into his shirt pocket. I looked at the mark again. This was getting "curiouser and curiouser" as the saying goes. If she isn't playing around on her husband with another guy, what the fuck IS she doing? She doesn't drink that much to be a lush. There had to be something going on, but what? Well...there was one way to find out. I grabbed my beer and walked over to her table.
"Excuse me," I said. "May I join you for just a few minutes?"
She looked up at me, startled. "I..I suppose so...but..."
"It's okay," I said quickly. "You and I need to chat just a little bit." I sat down across from her. "What I'm doing is a little unethical I think, but what the hell. I'm a private investigator. Your husband hired me. He thinks you're running around on him!"
"What?!?" she exclaimed, her beautiful eyes widening in honest surprise. "Running around on him? That's ridiculous! Why would he think that, for goodness sake?"
"Oh...I don't know," I responded, unable to keep the sarcasm from my tone of voice. "Do you think maybe it could be because when you get off work you come here to this bar until ten or so?"
"But...but my husband knows I'm here," she said. "I tell him I come here several times a week. I always hope he will show up so we could...sort of...just play around a little bit. You know...pretend and stuff?"
It all jelled together in a heartbeat! She was just trying to spice up their sex life and her dumbass of a husband couldn't even see it! What a prick! I had to laugh. "I'm sorry...may I call you Catherine?...I'm sorry...I guess you need to hit your old man with a sledgehammer or something! My name is Robin...Robin Hoode."
She giggled. "Robin Hoode? You gotta be kidding!"
"Nope," I grinned. "It's for real. Haven't you ever talked to your husband about spicing up your sex lives?"
"Of course," she shrugged. Then she blushed a deep shade of red. I could even see the blush as dark as it was in the bar. "But he only said he'd like to see me...with another woman." She averted her eyes from mine in embarrassment.
This can't be fucking real,' I thought to myself. No way I can get two women in the same week. Especially not one that looks like she just stepped out of the pages of Glamour Magazine.' I took a sip of my beer. "So why don't you just give your husband what he wants, then maybe he'll give you what you want."
"You mean I should be with another woman? I couldn't do that! I mean...even if I wanted to...I don't know any women who I could...you know."
"Sure you do," I said softly, looking directly into her eyes as I spoke. "You know me!"
"You?" She cleared her throat nervously. "You're gay?"
"I'm beginning to get that feeling," I smiled at her. "I'd much rather think I'm more a bi-sexual though. I mean I still dig men!"
"You're very pretty," she said. She glanced quickly about to make certain no one was within earshot. "I have fantasized about it at times. Being with another woman I mean." Her voice was so low I could barely hear her.
I smiled at her. "This is a Motel. We could get a room if you like. Then you could call your husband and invite him over after explaining to him what was up!"
"I wouldn't want the bartender to know that we were leaving together," she said. "I'd be embarrassed."
That was as good as a yes. "I'll go back to the bar," I said. "You go out to the front and get a room. Get a room on the third floor and I'll meet you at the third floor elevator in twenty minutes."
She chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip for a long moment, then simply nodded her head. I made a big thing out of telling her bye and returned to my stool at the bar and ordered another beer. She waited about five minutes then picked up her purse and left, not even glancing at me on her way out. It occurred to me that she might just keep walking out to her Mercedes but I'd just have to wait and see. Then the bartender said something to me and I looked at him.
"What did you say?" I asked him. "I didn't hear you!"
"I said she's beautiful," he grinned at me. "Have fun!"
"What the hell are you talking about?" I growled at him.
"C'mon baby," he smiled. "I've been a bartender for a long time. That last beer is on the house!" I just sat there and shook my head. Fucking bartenders. You don't get much past the good ones. I pushed another fin across the bar to him and got off the stool and left.
The elevator was empty when I got on and pushed three. In spite of myself, I could feel a little flutter in the pit of my stomach. I was gonna be one disappointed bitch if she wasn't waiting for me. But she was there, in the hall waiting for me. I followed her into room 304 and made sure she locked the door. It was a typical motel room, bed, small table, nightstand and telephone. She stood in the middle of the room looking at me.
"Should I call my husband now?"
"Yeah," I said. "But lay down here on the bed before you call him. When he's on the phone, don't tell him who I am...just tell him that you're in the motel room with another woman, than tell him exactly what is happening...step by step...okay?"
"Okay," she agreed, then lay down on the bed still fully clothed and picked up the phone. I sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. I nodded my head and she reached over and picked up the phone and punched in the number. Her voice shook just a little bit when she spoke into the phone.
"Roger? It's me. I don't want you to say anything...I just want you to listen, okay? I'm in a motel room with a woman. Right now she is sitting on the edge of the bed beside me and now she...she is unbuttoning the front of my blouse. What do you mean you don't believe me? Here...I'll prove it." She shoved the phone at me.
I knew he wouldn't recognize my voice. "Hi...I'm here with your wife." Then I finished unbuttoning the blouse and pulling it off of her shoulders.
"Are you satisfied now? Okay...she just took my blouse off and now she's undoing my skirt. Now it's off and I'm just in my panties and bra. No...the blue ones with all the lace...she's...she's kissing me on the stomach now...yes...it feels nice...no...my bra is still on...yes...my nipples are hard...you know... how you call them little erections...yes...she's making me hot... do you want to come join us?yes...she says it would be okay if you did...yes...the Purple Tree Motel...room 304...no...she's just kissing me on the outside of my panties...no...I didn't wear pantyhose today...okay...I'll leave the door unlocked...just come on in...remember...room 304...bye."
I raised my face from her panty-covered crotch and smiled at her. "He'll be sporting a hard-on all the way here! You wanna just wait for him...or maybe get a little practice in before he gets here?"
"You'd better unlock the door for him. Are you going to let him...do it...to you?"
I got up and unlocked the door. Then I moved to sit on the edge of the bed again. "Do "it" to me? What the fuck are you...in high school? Do you mean am I gonna let your old man fuck me? That's up to you, sweetness!"
"I've never heard a woman talk dirty. It's sexy."
"Is it? Why don't we pull these panties down so I can get a look at your pussy?"
She didn't resist when I hooked my fingers into the elastic waistband and skimmed the panties down her legs. Her beaver was trimmed and looking very fucking edible and I could actually see her stomach roll with excitement when I bent down and pretended her cunt was an ice cream cone. She squirmed her crotch against my face as I began eating her in earnest, tongue fucking her like crazy! I was so into eating her pussy that I didn't even hear the door open behind me.
"I see you two started without me."
I raised my face from her crotch and twisted my head around to look at him. "Hi."
"Hello. Miss Hoode," he smiled, just as if it were the most natural thing in the world to find me eating out his wife's cunt. "Nice to see you again. But tell me...why are you still dressed?"
I laughed and shrugged my shoulders, then stood up and began removing my clothes. As he stepped out of his silk boxer shorts, his dick was standing straight up, thick and round as a fucking sausage. Now I knew why this pretty bitch stayed with him. Moving towards me, he pushed me onto the bed onto my stomach and gently pressed the back of my head until my face was buried in his wife's crotch again. As my tongue flicked out, I felt the head of his cock probing at my cunt lips, then he was inside me and, deep and thick.
"Fuck her, Rog... fuck her hard!"
`What happened to little Miss Goody two-shoes?' I thought to myself as he began ramming it to me. And then I was trying to get my entire head inside her pussy and I was coming like I hadn't come in a long time. The next hour went by in a blur of fucking and sucking...him on her...her going down on me...me laying on top of her with our mouth glued together as he stuffed that big schlong into my ass...all our bodies sticky and wet from the fluids of one another's body. It was when we were all three sated and sitting together on the bed that the pretty bitch dropped the bombshell.
"I told you so, Roger! I told you it would work!"
"You were right, baby," he grinned. "Miss Hoode...how about I give you another two hundred and we call it even?"
"Wait a minute," I said. "Back up the fucking sex truck! What's going on here?"
"It's quite simple," he smiled at me, patting me on the knee. My darling wife agreed to have a menage a troix with another woman, and myself but she absolutely refused to engage the services of a prostitute, as it were. At her suggestion, I perused the yellow pages of the phone book and selected several names of female private investigators. Fortunately for us, you were the first one I called upon."
"You can imagine my astonishment when I saw how attractive you are. Of course neither Cathy nor I could be certain you would let yourself be seduced by another woman, so we contrived things so that it would be you who did the seducing, if you will. I hope you aren't too offended at the ruse, my dear."
I had to laugh. They had baited the hook and reeled me in like a fish. "Glad to be of service to you both," I grinned. "Don't hesitate to call me if I can be of any further service to either of you." As we all got dressed, Catherine managed to get a word in when her husband went to the bathroom.
"I'll call you," she said quickly. "Is that okay?"
I brushed my lips fleetingly against hers. "Any time, sweetness...anytime at all."
End