AAA Detective Story - Who's the Father - Part 5

 

The sky is still dark and the wind is cold again. Ken drives to the Gulstead building with his bag in the front seat. Binoculars, instant camera, notepad, and a Stanley full of hot coffee. Parking on a side street, he grabs the bag and slings it over his shoulder. When he enters the building, a man at the front desk asks. “Good morning, Sir. Can I help you? None of the offices are open until 8 am.”

Ken pulls the camera from his bag. “The elevator guy yesterday said I should come back and watch the sunrise from the observation deck.”

The man at the desk stands up. “Can I see what else is in the bag?”

Ken smiles and holds it open. The guy glances in and nods.

“Ok. Let me ring the elevator.” He says as he returns to his desk, picking up the phone.

“Hey Jimmy. Yes I know what time it is. Did you tell some guy to watch the sunrise? I don’t care. The deal with you living in the building is being on call. I don’t care what you wear. Ok.” He hangs up, and points to a chair in the lobby. “Why don’t you take a seat. The elevator will be down shortly.”

Ken smiles, sits and then pours a cup from the Stanley. He gets just a sip when he sees the dial above the elevator door moving. The doors open and a kid wearing a nightshirt and hat is standing inside. Gulping down the hot coffee, Ken screws the top back on the bottle. “Good Morning. I’m sorry to wake you. But I thought I would take you up on your suggestion.”

“It’s okay Sir. Please step inside and we’ll go to the observation deck.”

Ken is pleased his plan is working, but he feels bad for the kid.

“Here’s your stop sir. Observation deck is to the right.”

“Thank you.” Ken says, pulling out a couple of bills and handing them to the kid. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be here a while.”

The kid pockets the bills and smiles. “Thank you, sir. Take all the time you need.”

On the observation deck, the wind is cold. Ken slips on his gloves, and looks around. Holding the binoculars up, he scans the horizon. The Palace Hotel is dark. He checks his watch. It’s a little after 6. He sits down on one of the benches, and unscrews the Stanley. He sips the coffee as he watches the Eastern sky lighten.

As the sun slow rises on the skyline, he sees lights come on in the Palace. Not in the penthouse suites yet, but maybe soon.

Finally he sees the lights in what should be 1104. A shadow moves back and forth. Through the binoculars, he sees “Sugar Daddy” wearing only a pair of boxers, going from bedroom to the bathroom. A couple of minutes later, he walks out of view, still wearing only boxers.

The lights come on next door. A young man gets out of bed and is fully naked. “I might tell Huddler to invest in a set of curtains for his secretary’s penthouse.” The young man appears to be alone as he walks around, his dingus swaying back and forth. “Damn, it’s a good thing he uses that on guys. It would ruin women for the rest of us.”

Looking back at Powell’s room, he watches as he changes and gets dressed. Glancing down at his watch, Ken wonders, “Why is he getting dressed so early? It’s a little after 7, and he’s….” Then it hits him. “Yes, he is going to get dressed, get into his car, and pick up Doll. She’s probably already in her waitress get up, and heading to the “bus stop”.” Ken snaps a couple of photos. They really don’t show much. But they give a good idea of where things happen. Throwing everything back in his bag he buzzes the elevator. If he can get to his car, maybe he can follow him.

“Did you enjoy the sunrise?” the kid asks, this time dressed in his elevator operator uniform.

“It was everything you said. Here.” And he hands him another dollar.

“Gee Thanks Mister. If you ever need any help, here in the building, ask for Jimmy.”

“I’ll remember that.” Ken tips his hat as he steps into lobby.

In a couple of minutes, he drives around the streets surrounding the Palace, until he sees a sedan he recognizes. He then parks and watches.

Mister Powell climbs into his car and pulls out onto the street. Ken follows behind.

Luckily at this time in the morning, you have delivery trucks but not much else in the way of traffic. Ken uses that to his advantage, keeping a few car lengths back. That and he knows where they are going so having the sedan leave his sight, isn’t too big of a worry.

Soon they are near the bus stop. Ken parks and watches. Mister Powell drives to the stand, stops, looks around, and then does another loop around the block. Ken watches him do this four times before he drives away.

“Knock. Knock” Joan taps on the passenger side before Ken can put it into gear and follow Powell. She climbs in with a folder in her hand. “Hey Boss. I did like we said. I talked to Mary Fletcher”

Ken puts the car back into neutral. “What’d she say?”

“Let’s go back to the office. I’ll tell you on the way.”

Joan explains that Mary had lost her job. “The diner replaced her with some relative of the cook. She was feeling ugly and unwanted, when a regular customer of her’s offered to dress her up to the Nines, take her out, and all she had to do was look pretty. They went from game to game, with her as his “lucky charm”. When he won, he bought her nice things. When he lost, she had to have sex with him.”

“Ok, so why didn’t she show up at the bus stop today?” Ken asks as they park at their office building.

“She said she loves her husband. She doesn’t want to hurt Robby. He works so hard and just never seems to get ahead. That’s why she was waitressing, to make extra scratch for them.”

“So can she just walk away?” Ken asks as they enter the office.

Joan hangs up her coat and hat, then lays the file on the desk. “That’s what I wanna talk to you about, Boss. She wants back to her old life. Schtuping Marcus yesterday wasn’t her idea. He apparently lost big yesterday and’ll try to make it up today.”

“Did she say where the game is?” Ken ask as he pours the last of his Stanley into his old mug.

“Do ya got more of that for me?” Joan asks nodding at his cup.

“Sorry.” He shakes the empty vacuum bottle. “You were saying about the game?”

“Oh yeah. There is a warehouse down off the highway. She said it was Acme Trucking, or was it Ace Trucking? There is a big stakes poker game according to her.”

Ken sits in his chair and sips his coffee. It’s half past 8.

Joan fills the percolator and puts it on the hotplate. “Boss, can we do something to help?”

“Let’s wait a bit. I’ll make a phone call. Later, we can visit the Fletchers. Remember Robert is paying for our information.”

“But Boss, that’ll ruin their marriage.” Joan says in almost a whine.

“I got a plan.” He says turning in his chair, so he looks at the city, with the morning sun creating long shadows with the buildings.

Ken calls Sergeant Mulrooney, “Brian. You mentioned something about Vice doing gambling raids? There is supposed to be big poker game at the warehouse of either Acme Trucking or Ace Trucking. Yeah, I know the lead is slim. It involves Mr. Powell. Thanks. Call me once you hear something.”

“So what did he say, Boss?” Joan asks, sitting on the edge of her chair.

“He said, he’d pass the info on to Vice. If they netted anyone during a raid, he’d call us.”

“What happens if they do?”

“I’ll call in a few favors, go down, talk with Mister Powell, and suggest he find a different city where his luck might go farther. His lucky charm wants to go back to her husband, and he should cut his losses and go.”

“Will it work, Boss?”

“We’ll see.” He then calls the operator, and a female voice answers. “How can I help you?”

“Can you please connect me to the Huddler residence?”

“Yes, sir. Give me a moment, and what is your name?” she asks.

After answering her, he hears the phone ring and a voice answer, “Huddler Residence.”

“Yes, sir, this is the phone company, you have a call from a Mister Ken Cooper. Shall I put it through?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you.”

The operator leaves the line, and Ken says “Joseph. Can you please pass on a message to Mister Huddler?”

“Of course, sir.”

“His personal secretary should put up curtains in the penthouse apartment at the Palace.”

Ken says in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Mister Cooper. Please wait a minute.” Joseph says after a pause.

Then an unfamiliar voice comes on. “Detective Cooper. I think we should talk in person.”

“Mister Huddler?”

“I don’t want to talk on the phone. Is there someplace we can meet later?”

Ken thinks about it. “If you want to wait until 7 or 8 tonight, we can meet at the Coconut Club. That is a public place but loud enough we can talk.”

“I know the place. I’ll meet you there at 7:30.” And then he hangs up.

Ken stares at the receiver.

“What is it, Boss?” Joan asks.

Placing it in the cradle he says, “I think Teddy Huddler wants to meet me at the Coconut Club tonight. Is the band still playing there?”

“Yeah boss, they have a steady gig there the rest of the month.” She says with a hint of pride in her voice.

“Then I will probably see you there tonight.” He looks at the clock. It’s almost 10am.

“I wish we would hear something from Mulrooney. Do you think Misses Fletcher will still be at home?” He grabs the folder with the pictures and reports.

“She should be, Boss. What’ya thinking?”

He copies the phone number for the Fletchers on his note pad and gives it to her.

“If Mulrooney or Vice call, take the message and call me at the Fletcher’s. I want to talk to Mary.”

“OK” she says, and then cleans out the coffee pot.

(If you enjoyed this story, leave me a comment. Remember to return tomorrow for Part 6. If you enjoy my writings, follow and subscribe.)

AAA Detective Story - Who's the Father - Part 4

 

Ken got a new case. A working stiff, Mr. Robert Fletcher, was convinced his Ol’ Lady is stepping out on him. He follows her and finds she has a “Sugar Daddy”. Ken is never happy to take these kinds of jobs but the guy is paying, so he tracks her for almost a week. He carries his Land camera and snaps pics every time he can.

It starts off simple enough. She tells her hubby she is going to work. A waitress at a greasy spoon. But following her, Ken finds out she was fired and is getting picked up by some guy. They go to cafés, hooch joints, and card dens. He gifts her with lace and nylons. She changes out of her waitress getup and dresses to the nines for her new man, like she is his “Doll”. Ken does his best to keep back, and just take notes. He knows that if he takes photos from too far away, they wouldn’t show anything and if he’s too close, the game will be up. The cafes and bars are easy to follow them, but it’s harder to follow them into a game. Regardless of where they go, around 4, she changes back into her waitress uniform and he drops her off at the bus stop near her house. By the time her old man gets home, she has dinner started and is back being the ‘happy housewife’. Any lettuce she has from her Sugar Daddy, she passes off as tips from work.

He doesn’t recognize the Sugar Daddy. He apparently has lots of scratch to spread around, but Ken is never really good about knowing all of the high rollers in town. He might be a Sharper, or a Butter and Egg man. Ken just hopes he’s not running number and carrying the poke for one of the Mobs.

One early afternoon, they leave a game being held in a warehouse. Sugar Daddy has Doll in tow, as they get into his sedan. He looks unhappy and she looks a little nervous. They drive a few blocks and park in an alley. Ken follows behind and uses his binoculars to watch. They are talking, and she is shaking her head. He smacks her. She rubs her cheek and looks around. Then Ken watches as her head bobs up and down in the guys lap. He can’t get a good view. The guy can’t be too big, because she is taking him all the way in her mouth. Or maybe he’s hung like Pete, and Doll has a very talented mouth? Ken tries to take a few snaps, but can’t really see anything clearly. After a few minutes she sits up, and wipes her mouth with a hankie from her purse. She then changes from her dress, back into her waitress outfit. They are done for the day. This guy was being cagy and careful.

Ken finally lucks out one day when at lunchtime they leave another game and go to a hotel. It is a snazzy place, the Palace Hotel. He watches Sugar Daddy and his Doll, take a key from the front desk and make for the elevator. Ken quickly snaps a couple of shots.

He hears a voice behind him. “Whatcha think ya’ doin’, Bub.”

Ken stops, turns, and smiles. It’s the House Dick. Frank Jackson had been a cop but found that he could make more money working at the Palace, paid to keep the peace, and paid to keep quiet.

“Hiya Frank. How’s tricks?” Ken says extending his hand.

Frank shakes it. “I’m okay, but I’d be better if I knew what you were doing.”

“I’m working. The doll who just went upstairs with the high roller, has an old man who’s busy at work all day. He suspects she’s cheating on him. I’m just getting proof.” Ken folds up the camera and puts it in a shoulder bag.

“Hey Ken, I don’t want no trouble here. Maybe you should get outta here.” Frank says, puffing out his chest.

“Easy, pal. It’s not like that. I just want to make sure I got the full story before I go back to the client with proof. Can you help me with a few things?” Ken says as he pulls out a few bills and slips them to Frank.

“Give me another double sawbuck, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Ken pulls out his money clip, pulls a 20 from the center of the fold. “Ok, what do you have?”

Frank leads Ken to the Front Desk. “Alice, gimme the register.”

A thin, but cute brunette reaches under the counter and pulls out the large book.

“Anything for you Frank.” She says with a smile and a wink.

Frank opens it, flips a few pages, then points to a signature. Marcus Powell — Room 1104.

Ken jots it down. “Thanks. Is there any chance I can see what’s going on in 1104?”

Frank closes the book and gives it back to Alice.

“Ken, I can’t let you up. But I can’t control what ya’ do outside of the Palace. Eleventh floor are penthouse suites. 1104 is on the East side. Ya’ might be able to see somethin’, if you understand me.”

“Thanks. By the way, Frank, what do you know about this Powell character? Is he legit, or tied to a mob?”

“That I don’t know. He’s quiet, pays for his suite on time, and up until recently hadn’t been taking anyone up. What’s the deal with the frail, how did she hook up with him?”

“Her husband said she had been working in a hash house, but I found she was let go. What has her husband suspicious is she’s always tired and always has a headache in bed too. That’s when he asked me to snoop.” Ken says reaching into his pocket for a cigarette. He lights it and takes a deep drag, blowing a cloud in the air. “I don’t know how they met, but Sugar Daddy seems to be taking care of her during the day, and sending her home after.”

Franks shakes his head. “That’s a nasty business. Sounds like a Dear John, in the making.”

“Yeah, hate to break my client’s heart, but none of this looks good. By the way, Who owns the other suites?”

Frank shakes his head again. “Nope. That will cost ya’ more than ya’ got. Let’s just say the city’s best and brightest have rooms here. Ya’ come back with another case, and maybe I’ll help.”

“Okay, it was worth a try.” Ken says extending his hand.

“Be careful, I would hate to call the flatfoots on ya’ for being a peeping tom.” Shaking his hand.

“See you around.”

Ken heads back to his office. He needs to make a phone call. Picking up, he dials the Police, “Sergeant Mulrooney Please, Tell him it’s Ken Cooper.”

After a few minutes, he hears “Mulrooney.”

“Brian, its Ken. What’s the skinny on a guy named ‘Marcus Powell’?”

“Kenny, Now what causes you to be asking me about him? You aren’t in any trouble are you.?”

“No, Brian, it’s nothing like that. I’m working a case and the babe he’s seeing is the wife of my client.”

“Oh. So, he’s a homewrecker is he. That makes sense. He’s a high roller. Making from game to game we hear. I don’t think he is a sharper or anything, but just a man who like risk and to press the odds.”

“Is he mobbed up? Whose toes am I stepping on if I keep trailing the skirt?” Ken asks as he jots down some notes in his book.

“Kenny, I hadn’t heard anything about him being with any of the families, just that his name has been mentioned as Vice shut down a few unlicensed games.”

“Thanks Brian. I owe you. Next time I see you, I’ll get you a shot and a beer.”

As Ken hangs up the phone he looks at the clock. It’s mid-afternoon. Sugar Daddy and his Doll will be finishing up and dropping her back home soon. He makes sure he has his binoculars in his bag and drives back towards the Palace Hotel.

When the Palace was built, it was one of the tallest buildings in the area. But that was last century, and a few places have sprung up that are taller. He looks for one on the East side. The Gulstead Building, a high rise with offices, apartments, and an observation area.

“Yeah, that might just be the ticket” Ken thinks to himself as he parks and takes the elevator to the deck.

Walking around, he sees a few tourists using their Brownies to snap shots of the skyline. He walks around looking for the best angle, if there is one.

He looks over to the Palace. Lifting his binoculars, he focuses on the eastern side of the building. The Penthouse suites have balconies, terraces, and large windows. Those are worth a pretty penny. He guesses which one will be 1104. They don’t have curtains, but the rooms look empty. The only sign that they had been there is the bed is unmade. He snaps a photo, so he knows which hotel room to look at next time.

In the suite next to it, he notices some motion.

Setting his camera down, he looks though the binoculars again. He sees two men, and older and a younger one, hugging, and then getting undressed. “Looks like a pansy show is about to start.” He chuckles to himself, about to look away, when he gets a good look at one of the men. Theodore Huddler. “This got more interesting.”

He watches as the older man presses the younger man to his knees. From the angle of the observation deck, Ken gets a clear view of the younger man licking and sucking off his boss. He wishes he had a camera with a telephoto lens. But then he looks away. “Dammit. What does this prove? I already know that Teddy and his friend are together. Karen and Hillary told me as much.” He says to himself as he packs up his binoculars. “I need to focus on the case I have and stop wasting time on Fruit Basket Detail.”

As he rides down the elevator, he shakes his head and smiles. “That’s all it is.” He says aloud. The elevator operator looks at him. “Excuse me Sir?”

“Nothing. The observation deck has a wonderful view.” He responds holding up his binoculars and patting his camera bag.

“Yes. Sir. You should return at sunrise and sunset. The view is exquisite.”

“Thank you. I will keep that in mind. See you around.” Ken says adjusting his fedora as he walks across the lobby. 

Sitting inside his car he lights up a cigarette and laughs. “That is what has been bothering me about the Huddlers, it reminds me of doing the Fruit Basket detail. I got to keep my head focused. I’m not working for the Provost Marshal. I don’t care who sleeps with who, unless I’m paid to. I already have a client.” He puts the car into gear and drives to the office.

For the next few hours, he writes up a report. The only thing that it’s missing is photos or a description of Sugar Daddy and Doll together in bed. He might have to go up to the observation deck one more time and see if he can get lucky.

Joan comes over, looking at the photos on the desk. “Hey Boss, what’s with the pics of the Palace Hotel? Good shots, but…”

“Yeah, they only show an empty bed. I need to go back tomorrow and see if I can catch ’em. But I also have to be sure I have the right room.” He shows her the photo he took in the lobby of them getting into the elevator. “That’s what I’m writing up in the report for the client. Mr. Marcus Powell has a penthouse suite, room 1104. He is apparently entertaining our client’s wife there. Or has at least moved up to taking her there instead of in his sedan.” Ken comments as he points to a photo of a man sitting in a car, with possibly a woman’s head in his lap.

“Gee Boss, that’s gonna break Mr. Fletcher’s heart.” She responds in a sad tone.

“Give him Richard’s number. He’s a good shyster. Should be able to help with the divorce.”

“OK Boss. But couldn’t you let me talk to her, woman to woman first? Maybe it’s just a fling? Maybe she a Catholic?”

He smiles a second at that, remembering how some Italian wives cheating on their husbands, during the war, would have only oral or anal sex because it wasn’t violating their sacred vows. “Maybe she’s into sodomy. Okay, tomorrow morning, when she is supposed to go to work, why don’t you talk to her.”

“Where will you be?”

“I think I’ll watch the sun rise from the Gulstead Building.”

(If you enjoyed this story, leave me a comment. Remember to return tomorrow for Part 5. If you enjoy my writings, follow and subscribe.)

AAA Detective Story - Who's the Father - Part 3

 

That next morning, he calls Hillary Schmidt. Her man answers the phone. “Schmidt Residence.”

“Hello, this is Ken Cooper, from AAA Detective Agency. May I speak with Miss Hillary Schmidt?” he says in his most professional tone.

“May I inquire what this is about Mr. Cooper?”

“Yeah, I mean Yes. It concerns Mr. and Mrs. Huddler and their new son.”

After a moment, he hears Hillary’s voice.

“Thank you, I will take it from here….” She says in a soft tone to her butler. “Mr. Cooper, it is always a pleasure to hear from you. Julie mentioned that she saw you, before the show, last night. What can I do to help you?”

“What can you tell me about Mr. and Mrs. Huddler and their baby? Let me get to the point, do you think Theodore is the father?”

The phone line was just static silent for a few minutes, then Hillary clears her throat.

“Mr. Cooper, I don’t know what this is all about, but I think you should come here. We can sit in my parlor and talk. Shall I have some tea prepared?”

“That will work, Miss Schmidt. But I really prefer coffee.”

“French, Vienna, or Italian roast? Or would you just prefer the local blend with cream and sugar? Never mind, you can tell me when you get here. See you shortly Mr. Cooper.”

“Thank you, Miss Schmidt.” He says as he hangs up the phone. Ken held on to the article from yesterday’s paper, so he folds it up and puts it in his breast pocket, before grabbing his hat and coat.

“Joan, I’m going out. If you need me, ring me at the Schmidt’s.” He says without waiting for a response.

Driving to the Schmidt estate this time was much better. The cold but clear day was much nicer than the rainy weather last time.

Once again, he was twisting the brass door bell, which is quickly answered by the butler. “Mr. Cooper, please come in.” he says, holding the door open.

Ken removes his hat and coat, hanging them up on the free-standing coat rack by the door. Then the manservant leads him to the parlor.

Hillary is sitting at a small table with a tea pot on it as she sips from a delicate china cup. “Ah, Mister Cooper, Please sit down. Charles, please get the cup of espresso from the kitchen.” She says to the butler.

“Thank you, Miss Schmidt. I have a few questions that your sister told me you were better equipped to answer than her.” He says as he pulls out the folded new article, a note pad, and pen from his pocket.

“I will tell you what I can, but first have a finger sandwich, and your drink.” She says pushing a small plate with tiny sandwiches towards him.

A saucer with a small cup arrives. It smells dark and rich, and he takes a sip. Memories of sitting in a café in a small Italian village fills his mind for a moment.

“It is real espresso. How did you know?” he asks and takes another sip.

“I called your secretary and asked her how you take your coffee, and she mentioned espresso. We have a machine in the kitchen for special occasions.”

The butler closes the door to the parlor as he leaves.

“Now, Mister Cooper, You said you had some questions about the Huddlers and their son.

What can I tell you?”

Ken sets down the cup, and unfolds the new article. Pointing to the photo, “Who is the father of the baby?”

“That is direct and right to the point. According to the article you are showing, Theodore is the father. Do you have any reason to suspect otherwise?” She asks taking another sip of her tea.

“Months ago, you mentioned something about Oscar trying to put the screws on Theodore because he was a pansy and Oscar needed money or something like that. How did you know, and what more can you tell me?”

“It was a sordid affair. I only told you some of it to help you find Julie.”

Ken leans forward and points to Theodore in the photo. “This is not the face of a ‘proud papa.’ That is the face of a man who is behind the Eight Ball. Should I go directly to him and ask what’s going on, or can you tell me enough to show me I’m chasing the wrong car?”

She takes a deep drink of her tea and sets down the empty cup. “I have known Karen for many years. I should tell you, ‘You are wrong.’ ‘There is nothing.’ ‘It’s just a bad photo of Teddy’ or some such. But I have kept tabs on you since you brought back Julie. You have a reputation for being a dogged investigator. And I am afraid that if I turned you away, you would uncover things that we don’t want out.” She refills her cup and leans back in her chair.

After a moment she continues. “I only know about the trouble with Oscar and Teddy because Karen wanted my advice. Her husband loves her but Teddy just isn’t affectionate in a way that a husband should be.”

“I thought all of you folks had arranged marriages, and it was all for money and power. Love wasn’t a factor.” Ken says leaning back, holding his cup.

“Oh, for some families that is the case. My father wanted either me or Julie to marry one of the families. I might still someday. But Karen and I met in school. She wasn’t from one of the families. Her parents worked hard to have her attend a finishing school to attract the right kind of man, and she did. Teddy, was at the prep school and they met at one of the few co-ed dances between the schools. He is a kind and gentile man, and provides everything that Karen requires. He is just not a physical man. Do you know what I mean?”

“I think I do. I heard rumors that he keeps a gaycat with him. Maybe a personal secretary or butler?”

She sighs and pauses. “According to Karen, yes, Teddy prefers to spend time with men. There is a young man who accompanies him when he travels and is said to keep his personal calendar. Karen once caught them together in his study, doing an act that not even a husband and wife should do.” The cup in her hand shakes for a second as she sets it on the saucer. “Karen was very upset and made them promise to never do anything similar in the house again.”

“So that is what Oscar was threatening his brother with? Revealing him to be a nance and a queer?”

“Yes. But apparently Teddy, did the right thing, and father an heir. Shortly before Julie was kidnapped, he and Karen began having marital congress, resulting in her pregnancy.” Hillary explained with a slight quiver to her voice.

“Miss Schmidt, can you call over and introduce me to the Huddlers? I still feel like there is a missing piece to all of this.” Ken said, finishing his cup and gathering up his unused notepad and pen. He then refolds the article and pockets it.

Hillary sighed and then stood. “Yes, please follow me.”

They go from the parlor to the study. A phone is on the desk along with a number of books and ledgers. Ken silently glances at the covers, thinking that Miss Schmidt might be more active in her family’s companies, than he thought. A little piece of information to store away for the future.

She picks up the receiver and dials a number directly from memory. “Hello. Yes, this is Miss Schmidt, please tell Misses Huddler I need to speak with her. Yes, I will wait.”

Ken reaches into to his breast pocket and fishes out a cigarette. “Do you mind if I smoke?”

She frowns, and points to the spotlessly clean ashtray on the desk. “If you must, but please use the ashtray.” Then the tone of her voice changes and she almost sounds like a teen, “Karrie, its Hills. How is the baby? Good, glad to hear it. I’ll come over soon.”

Ken lights up his cigarette, and then Hillary’s voice gets a more formal tone again. “Karen, do you remember that Detective I hired to find Julie a couple of seasons ago? Yes, that one. He is here asking some uncomfortable questions. I told him some of what I know, but I think it would be better for you to talk to him.”

She then turns away from him and covers the mouthpiece, the tone of her voice drops, but it sounds like, “I miss you too. We knew the baby ……… Maybe we can spend time ………. summer home on the lake. Just us girls…… yes, like in the old days.” She stops and listens for a few minutes. Then turns towards Ken, “Very good. I will send him over to you. He is a very good investigator. He might help. Okay, Love you.” She then hangs up the phone. Taking a pencil from a cup on the desk she writes down an address on a note pad and hands the sheet to him. “I don’t know if you know their address, but here it is. You are expected. Karen said that she will answer your questions, but do not upset my friend. With a call I can have your license pulled.” She says in a dark tone.

Glancing down at the address, “Miss Schmidt, I don’t doubt you on that. Thanks. I’ll tread as carefully as I can. You’ve been a help.”

Grabbing his coat and hat, he drives to the address on the note. He really didn’t need it.

From time to time he drives out to this end of town to familiarize himself with which mansions are out here. You need to know where the scratch is, to earn it.

In a short time, he pulls up to another beautiful estate. The large brass sign reads “Huddler” and the scrollwork on the gates has a large decorative H. The front door has a large knocker.

A black doorman responds “Mr. Cooper I presume.” Ken pulls out one of his cards and hands it to him. “AAA Detective Agency, Mr. Ken Cooper. Very well, follow me.”

Once again, his hat and coat are removed and hung near the door, and he is led to a nursery, where a nurse in a white uniform is tending a child and an attractive but recently pregnant woman is sitting in a rocking chair.

“Miss Karen, here is Mr. Cooper.” The butler says as he hands her the business card.

“Thank you, Joseph, that will be all.” She says. Then she stands up, “Maddie, Mr. Cooper and I will go to the library. Come and get me if you need anything.”

She moves with the unsteady gate of someone who is still recovering. She is cute and attractive, even with her belly. Ken extends his arm. “Do you need a hand, Misses Huddler?”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” She says “The pregnancy was more difficult than people tell you.”

In the library, she sits down in a large leather chair and motions to a wooden stool. “Please close the door and sit.”

Ken mounts the stool and pulls the news article from his pocket. “Congratulations on the birth of your son.” He hands her the picture.

“Before we talk anything, I should thank you for killing Oscar.” There is a strange tone to her voice.

“You don’t need to thank me. He tried to shoot me, and I plugged him. He had taken Julie….”

“Yes, I read about it.” She interrupts, “He had kidnapped Julie, and Hills was going to pay to free her. She told me about it. Oscar was out of control.” As she says Oscar, once again there is something about how she says the name.

He pulls the notebook from his pocket and flips it open to a page full of notes.

“Julie’s kidnapping was about 5 months ago. You had a bun in the oven already. I heard Oscar had tried to blackmail Theodore, but that had been a year or more before that.”

“What are you saying, Mister Cooper?”

“I am just trying to make sense of things.” He points to the news article in her hand. “Everyone in the photo looks so happy about your new tyke. Everyone except your husband. Why is that?”

Karen looks at the photo more closely. “Oh that. Teddy doesn’t like his picture taken.”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with ‘Teddy’ preferring to spend nights with men. Especially his private secretary?” He stands up and walks slowly around the library.

“Mister Cooper, I don’t know what you have heard, but my husband loves me. He has never been anything but kind and loving to me.” She says as she hands him back the news article. “Teddy is the sweetest and kindest of all his family members.”

Ken pockets the article. “Yeah, that is what I heard. He is so sweet that he’s a daisy.”

She sighs. “It’s not like that.” She stands up. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me.” He responds with an earnest tone.

“Why should I. Are you working a case? Are you trying to get information to blackmail our family? Or worse are you working with the press?”

Ken stops walking, lowers his head and slowly shakes it. “It is nothing like that Misses Huddler. I wish I could explain it. I saw the photo and something didn’t fit. I have this nagging feeling that there is more that just a happy family. Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll leave.”

She walks up and places a hand on his shoulder. “Mister Cooper, you are wrong. If you have no other questions, you can leave.”

He puts away his notepad and goes to the door. “If you need a PI, give me a ring. You have my card.”

Joseph meets him in the hallway and escorts him to the front door. Ken reaches into his pocket and pulls out a few bills and slips them to the butler. “How long have you worked for the Huddler’s?”

“Long enough. But I won’t say nothing against Mister Theodore or Miss Karen.”

“That’s ok. I just feel like there’s something hinky. If I slip you some more lettuce, would that help?”

“No Sir. I’d take your money, but it won’t change a thing. I don’t like peepers, and everything is square between the Huddlers. I’m being polite as I can, but you heard Miss Karen. You gots to go.” Joseph says as he hands Ken his coat and hat.

Ken peels off a Five from the small roll in his pocket and puts his card in it. “Joseph, take it. If you change your mind, give me a buzz, either way, keep the fin.”

As he sits in his sedan, Ken looks at himself in the rear view mirror. “I must be cracking up. Everyone is telling me there is nothing. But my gut says different.” He starts up the car, “But my gut doesn’t earn me any sugar. Maybe Joan will’ve got something.”

(If you are enjoying this, leave me a comment. Hopefully you return tomorrow for Part 4. If you enjoy my writings, follow and subscribe.)

AAA Detective Story - "Who's the Father" - Part 2

The Coconut Club was a swing dance club. A mixture of money and fame walked though those doors. It really wasn’t Ken’s kind of place. He didn’t mind the music, but he liked dancing slow. Swing dancing really wasn’t his thing.

A sign on the by the door said, “Coloreds Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

He remembered something a while back about how when the Negro Vets came back, they weren’t allowed in. There had been a few fights and talk of building some clubs on their side of town, but white musicians didn’t want to play there, or maybe the cops didn’t want “mixing of the races” in that part of town. He thought it was more likely that, for the owners of the club, Green was the only color they really cared about. It never really mattered one way or another to him. When he worked CID, he saw just as many white criminals as any other color. And most of them were Officers.

He finishes another cigarette and goes through the door. The interior of the club is fake palm trees and coconuts. The bar has bamboo accents, but the stage is set up with a full sized bandstand. Tables surround the dance floor. He takes off his coat and hat and gives them to the girl at the check room. She gives him a ticket.

It is still early. The band hasn’t arrived yet, and the place is mostly empty. He goes to the bar and nods at the drink slinger. “So what’s special?” he asks as he pulls out a couple of bills.

“House special is a Pina Colada. But I think a man like you would prefer a Cuba Libre or a shot.” The bartender says in an accented tone.

“Actually, I’m working tonight. What time does the band and the singer show up?” Ken responds pushing the bills across the bar.

The tender pockets them and pours a glass of cola. “They normally show up around 6:00 or 6:30. But you won’t see the singer until she goes on stage. They all come in through the stage door.” He hands Ken the glass and nods to the door by the side of the bandstand.

“Is there a backstage? Dressing rooms? That kind of thing?” Ken asks taking a small sip.

“Si, But no one is allowed back there.”

Ken hands him a couple more bills. “I am just following up on something, and besides the Lady knows me.” He takes another sip. “How about I take that table over near the door, and when folks arrive, you have someone give the singer my card.”

Ken pulls out and hands over a card that just says “AAA Detective Agency, Ken Cooper”.

“Very good. Mister Cooper.”

As Ken takes the drink and sits down at the table, he hears the bartender talk with a waitress in Spanish, something about “Give this to the singer when she arrives” or something similar. He remembered a little Italian, but didn’t really know Spanish.

After a while, he hears some voices and movement from behind the bandstand.

He sees a couple of musicians carrying instrument cases and music stands, setting up on the bandstand.

A cigarette girl, without her tray, but still wearing her short skirt and nylons walks up. 
 “Mr. Cooper, will you please follow me?”

Ken finishes his drink and leaves the empty glass on the table, following the attractive girl, watching how her hips move.

She stops at a door and knocks. “Miss Julie, I brought Mr. Cooper as you asked.”

The door opens and he sees Julie wearing a silk robe. She hands a few bucks to the girl. “Thank you. I will take it from here.”

She opens the door, “Please come in Mr. Cooper.”

He closes the door behind him. “It is good to see you, Miss Schmidt. I have a few questions.”

She sits down before a vanity and looks in the mirror, putting on her makeup.

“I am glad, it is only questions. As I told you last time I saw you, I might not be a good girl, but I don’t want it publicly known.” She looks at him in the mirror as she applies a little blush on her cheeks.

“I saw in the papers, that you and your sister were at the Huddler’s christening of their son. What can you tell me about it?” He asks, sitting down on a stool.

“What do you mean? Mrs. Theodore Huddler gave birth to her son, and all of the society families attended the christening. But you could have gotten that from the society pages.”

She focuses on painting her lips.

“Yeah, that’s what I read, but something was hinky to me. I heard Theodore was a daisy, and not just that but maybe he enjoyed men more than his wife. So, I just want to know what you’ve heard.”

She stops doing her makeup and turns to face him. “Mr. Cooper, are you trying to blackmail the Huddlers? I had problems with Oscar, but Theodore has never been anything but kind to me and my sister.” She says in a stern tone.

Ken shakes his head and exhales. “You got me all wrong, Miss Schmidt. I saw the picture in the paper, and something didn’t add up. I’m just trying to make sense of things. Maybe Mrs. Huddler doesn’t mind her husband’s proclivities as long as he does his husbandly duties. But when I saw the picture in the paper, I saw a man who wasn’t happy to have a son. It just didn’t set right with me.”

Julie gets up from the vanity and moves behind a changing screen. She removes the robe and slips into her dress. Ken watches her shapely shadow slide into the dress. She is such a looker, he wishes he was here to get a piece. But she is no chippie, so he just focuses on why he is there.

“Maybe I am just barking up the wrong tree. I don’t have a case, so maybe I should just dangle.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cigarette.

“Please don’t light up in here.” She says, stepping from behind the curtain. “Can you zip me up?”

Ken walks over, the unlit fag still in his mouth, and zips up the back of her dress.

“Sorry to bother you.” He says turning to leave.

“Wait a minute Mr. Cooper. You rescued me from Oscar, and kept quiet about afterwards, so let me share with you a little gossip. Karen, that is Mrs. Huddler, doesn’t approve of her husband sleeping with men. She wanted a child, preferably a son, and rumor had it she would do anything to get one. She was with child, or at least appeared to be, less than a year ago. That was about the time Oscar was trying to gain control of the company from Theodore. Hillary might know more. She and Karen are friends. But, Mr. Cooper, I want to stress, this is all rumor. Please don’t do anything that will hurt the Huddlers.”

He turns to face her, walks closer, and softly caresses her cheek.

“Thanks for the info. I’ll ring your sister tomorrow. I hope you have a good show tonight.”

He wants to kiss her but knows it will smear her lipstick and just leaves.

After he closes her door, he looks for an exit. He could stay and enjoy the band. He really hasn’t heard her sing. But looking as good as she does, that will just having him frustrated and playing with himself. So he might as well go back to his little hole in the wall.

“Com’ on baby. Just raise it up and let me lick for a bit, you know I play better when my lips are wet from you.” A man’s voice whispers from the shadows.

“Pete, can’t you wait?” A familiar voice whispers back.

“Babe, just a little. The guys are busy tuning up, they won’t hear.”

Ken stays in the shadows and quietly moves so he can confirm his suspicions.

Yep, he sees Pete, on his knees, with Joan’s skirt raised up. He pulls the crotch of her panties to the side and starts licking her pussy. “Pete, do it quickly, I don’t want anyone to see.”

Ken is a little surprised by it. He thought maybe Pete was going to have Joan suck him before he went on stage, but him licking her is unexpected. He stays still and just watches. After a few minutes Joan is biting her knuckle of one hand as she pulls Pete’s hair with the other. He looks like he is devouring her. She tightens her thighs around his head and covers her mouth as she finishes. Pete then stands up, grabs his horn, and rubs the mouthpiece on his freshly wet lips. Then he blows and fingers a quick scale.

“Perfect. Now I will taste you all night. Thanks Babe.” And walks to the bandstand.

Joan adjusts her panties and skirt. “He’s lucky I don’t wear knickers.”

Ken quietly walks closer and says in a low tone, “So, that’s what Pete does to warm up before a show.”

Joan looks up, finishing straightening herself. “Hey Boss. Sometimes, he needs a little something. It’s better than dope. I seen some o’ his band mates all jangly from whatever hop they score. If I’m what Pete needs and it keeps him away from that stuff, I’m good. So did you get a good show?”

“More than I expected. But you know us Peepers, we got to watch the action.” He jokes.

“So did you talk to Julie?”

“Yeah, she told me a few things. I will call her sister tomorrow. I might be barking up the wrong tree, but something still feels rotten.” He says reaching into his pocket for his lighter.

“Don’t light up back here, Boss. No ash trays. Either go back in or go out. I’m gonna watch my Pete. I love watching him use his lips.”

“See you tomorrow, Joan.” He says walking out the exit. The early night air is cold and clear. Ken lights up and realizes that he needs to go back in for his coat, which is still with the coat check girl. He tries the stage door, but it locked behind him. “Can’t win for losing some nights.” He mutters as he walks to the front.

(If you enjoyed Part 2, leave me a comment. Come back tomorrow for Part 3. If you enjoy my writings, follow and subscribe.)

AAA Detective Story - "Who's the Father" - Part 1

 

It is a bright and clear morning as Ken Cooper walks down the street. The cold autumn wind has him pulling his coat tighter around him. “I hate when it’s cold like this.” He mutters to himself. But he knows that he’ll go up to his office and make some fresh Java. Maybe add a shot of Irish to really take the chill off.

He looks at his watch, it’s almost 7:30. The newsie should have the morning sheets, by now. He see’s the corner stand.

“Hey, Pops, gimme Today’s and a pack of Lucky’s.” he says as he pulls a bill from his pocket.

“I thought you quit smoking.” Pop’s responds handing a folded paper and a pack of Lucky Strikes.

“I had, but I’m feeling cold.”

Pops nods, “Yeah, I get days like that too, only the Missus, would take a rolling pin to me if I lit one again. It took me years to break the habit when we got back. It isn’t the cold for me, it’s the summer heat. You was in Italy?” he asks though he already knows.

Ken nods as he taps the pack on the palm of his hand, then opens it.

With the folded paper under his arm, he fishes the zippo from his pocket, puts a fag to his lips and lights it. He sucks the smoke deep into his lungs. Then exhales a cloud that the wind scatters. “And you were in the Pacific. Guadalcanal?”

“Running the supply depot.” Pops gets a faraway look in his eyes for a second.

The cold North wind blasts for a second, trying to pick up the papers that are weighed down with old bricks. “Yeah, but I didn’t have cold like this, and it’s not even winter yet. Well, you have yourself a good day Mr. Cooper.” He finishes and focuses on another customer walking up.

“You take care Pops. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Ken says as he heads towards the office building, enjoying his cigarette.

A few minutes later he has the percolator on the hotplate. He leans back in his chair and finishes the smoke. “Hopefully we find a good client soon.” He says to himself as he starts reading the paper.

AAA Detective agency had, months ago been hired to find a missing heiress. The payday from that one was pretty good, and Ken thought that he might have made some new connections to the upper crust. But the next clients were back to the same old thing; looking for lost pets, following wives who might be stepping out, and the usual bottom barrel PI crap. He took the jobs because money was money, and as long as the clients paid, it kept the business open. The dough from the Schmidt case hadn’t run out, but he wanted to keep as much of that as he could for the lean times. And turning away small cases can prevent you from getting bigger ones.

The sound of the percolator hit his ears before he smelled the coffee. In a couple more minutes he’ll fill his cup.

Looking at the headlines he notices that the President is visiting some country, and there is a war going on in another country he never heard of. Nothing of interest. “Might was well just read the funny pages.” He mutters.

Flipping, he notices a familiar face on the Society Pages.

“Huddler Family announces birth of latest child.” In the photo he sees a couple holding a baby, flanked by the wealthy families of the city. He recognizes Hillary and Julie standing to the side.

He sets the paper on the desk and fills his mug. The hot, rich aroma fills his nose, and he grips the warm ceramic. It is hot and bitter as he sips it, feeling it warm his insides.

“Hey Boss, sorry I’m running late. Me and Pete..”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you and Pete had a late night. Should I ask or are you gonna tell me before I have my coffee?” he responds with a smile.

Joan takes off her coat, grabs her mug and fills it before she even removes her hat. “It’s cold out there today. I’m glad you had the Joe ready.”

She takes a sip and almost spits it out. “You feeling okay Boss? What did you do? Pour the whole can in?”

He sits back down and smiles. “I was a little cold and wanted it a little stronger than normal.”

“Stronger, Boss? I know you have days when you like drinking in those European joints or that Cuban place, but don’t they serve their coffee in small cups?”

He smiles broader. “Yes, they call it Espresso. I can’t really make it here, but I wanted something dark and strong. Just like you like your men.” He jokes.

“Pete isn’t that dark. He just always has a tan.” She says defensively.

She takes off her hat, then pours half her coffee out, and adds hot water to what’s left.

“You could have just added cream and sugar.” Ken comments.

“You like ’em light and sweet, not me.” She responds. “Is that today’s?” she asks switching the topic.

“Yeah, I was just looking at this. Didn’t you mention something about Mr. Huddler being queer? It looks like he is going to be a proud papa.” Ken says sipping his mug.

Joan leans over to look at the picture in the paper. Ken notices the outline of Joan’s bra supporting her full round breasts, through her blouse. “Pete’s a lucky guy.” He thinks and takes another sip.

“Wow! They must a had everyone there. I see the Schmidt sisters, the Laramies, Freemans, and even the Gulsteads. That’s the city’s hoity-toity families. I wonder why they all agreed to pose for the picture?” She says and then takes a small sip, quickly frowning at the bitter taste.

Ken sits back for a second and thinks. “Maybe it’s nothing.” He says aloud, “Maybe they the Huddlers just wanted to make a big announcement in the press to make folks forget about that nasty business with Oscar a few months back.”

Joan dumps a bit more coffee and adds more hot water. “Yeah, Boss, it was probably that. Nothing too mysterious. “

“Yeah, but if Theodore is a nance, then who is really the father?”

“Maybe, his wife really wanted a baby and he agreed to do his part? I heard a pansies doing things like that to keep the family happy. And when there’s that much money in the family, wouldn’t he do what he could, Boss?”

He takes a deeper drink of his coffee. The dark bitter brew tastes good, or at least reminds him of Italy. “Joan, you are probably right. There’s probably nothing to it.” Then he takes the comic pages and hands her the rest.

“But didn’t you want to hear why I was running late?” She asks as he starts reading and chuckling to himself.

“Sure, tell me all about it.” He says, never looking up.

“Well, we was downtown, at this club. Pete was playing horn…..”

Joan’s description of the club, dancing, drinking, and enthusiastic bed play, went in one ear and out the other. Seeing today’s “Terry and the Pirates” “Gasoline Alley” “Steve Canyon” “Lil Orphan Annie” and of course his favorite “Brenda Starr” were far more important to him.

The day was a quiet one. No calls, no mysterious envelopes slid under the door, and no tall blonde “femme fatales”. It was just a quiet, cold day. When he made a second pot of joe, he made it the way he normally did, just a couple of scoops. Joan was much happier with this pot.

Ken kept feeling like there was something wrong, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it. “Boss, I’m done with the paper. Want me to toss it or save it for the next paper drive?”

“Let me see the Society page again.” He said. She brings it over and lays it on the desk.

He looks at the photo again. “Dead eyes of a prisoner. I’ll be damned.”

“What’s that. What prisoner?” Joan says, coming over.

“Look at Theodore’s eyes and mouth. Everyone else in the photo is smiling or at least pretending to smile. Theodore’s face is blank. It’s like the POW’s we dealt with. That blank dead stare, like he is trapped and there is nothing to do about it.”

“I dunno Boss, a lot a them types look like that in pictures. Trying to be, oh what do they call it? Stoic. Standing like a rock or a statue.”

Ken finishes his mug and sets it down. “Maybe you are right. I wish I could ask someone.”

“Why don’t you come down to the Coconut Club tonight and ask Julie? She was in the photo, maybe she knows something.”

“How do you know she will be there?” He asks with a genuine curiosity.

“Didn’t you listen to me earlier? I told you Pete and the Band were playing all week at the Coconut Club and Julie is headlining. That’s why Pete’s so energetic after playing all night. Watching Julie stand and sing, revves his engine and I get to ride him all night long afterwards.”

It’s a good thing she wears a bra, or Ken knows he would have seen her excitement through her blouse.

“Ok. What time does she go on?” Ken grabs a cigarette from the pack in his coat pocket, lights it and takes a deep drag.

“I thought you quit, Boss? She goes on at 8. The band does a warm up gig starting at 7.”

He sits down in his chair and relaxes enjoying the smoke. “Ok. Why don’t you call it a day. I’ll leave in a bit. Coconut Club at 7. I’ll see you there.”

(If you enjoyed Part 1, leave me a comment. Come back tomorrow for Part 2. If you enjoy my writings, follow and subscribe.)

Roping Trials and 'Big Earl's' - Part 2

Part 1 of the Story

 “I’ll drive home.” You say as you hop into the driver’s seat and adjust it forward. Also fixing the mirrors. The diesel engine roars to life.

“Are you sure you can drive this?” she says after she checked the trailer and hitch.

“It’s been a while, but I worked a delivery job when I was in college. I’ve got this. I won’t hurt your truck nor harm Sandy.”

“Are you really going to let him drive your truck?” Sonja asks.

“We’ll see how well it goes. It might be the last time.” Rebecca jokes.

“Good luck. Call me before you go to ‘Big Earl’s’.”

Rebecca tips her hat as you shift into first gear and release the clutch.

It has been a few years since you last drove a standard transmission vehicle, but once you get onto the highway, it feels okay. There isn’t much traffic in your direction, so you relax a bit, keeping an eye in the mirrors and on the trailer.

“You do know what you’re doing.” She says as she puts her head on your shoulder. “I might take up your offer and grab a few winks. Did you really enjoy today?”

“I did. I still feel like I don’t really know what’s going on in the ring, but I am so proud of how well you did. And I’m happy to meet Sonja. I take it she’s the partner you mention from time to time.”

“Uh-hu.” She responds as she closes her eyes, with her head still on your shoulder.

“Ok. Rest well, my Rodeo Queen. I’ll get you home safely.” You say, keeping your hands on the wheel and focused on driving.

She wakes up as you turn from the highway onto the country roads. “Did you get a good nap?” you ask as she straightens up.

“Not bad. And we are almost home. Park the truck next to your car, then we can off-load everything and put Sandy in the stable.

As the sun sets and the yard lights come on, you help her by carrying in her bags, filling the water buckets, and then disconnecting the trailer. Both of you push it next to the barn.

“Ok, now what?” you ask, pulling off your rawhide gloves. She walks next to you, hugs you tightly, and kisses you. “We both need a shower before we go out. Come up and join me.” “Yes, my Queen.” You respond, reaching up and kissing her firmly.

The hot water from the shower feels good on your skin. You didn’t realize that you used your muscles so much today. Soaping up a washcloth you, wash Rebecca’s back and ass, continuing down her legs. Her muscles feel so strong and firm as you rub and scrub her skin. Then she rinses and turns her front to you. Her dark nipples are hard as you wash her chest and abdomen. “If we weren’t going out, I would suck those nipples and finger your sweet pussy.” The soapy washcloth continues moving down her body. You feel your dick harden. Between her sexy body and the hot shower, you are feeling so turned on. She grips your dick. “You are right, we need to finish up and get dressed. If not, I’d devour you until you’re spent.” “When we get back from Earl’s?” you ask, still hard with anticipation. “Or maybe sooner.” She says kissing you, her tongue thrusting into your mouth. “Whatever you want, my love.” You sigh as she turns off the water and you grab towels. 

The soft, thick cotton towels feel so good on your skin as you dry yourself off. You were going to dry her first, but she takes her towel and heads for the bedroom. “If I let you dry me, we’d never leave the bathroom tonight.” She comments playfully.

You keep a couple of outfits at her place, just as she does at yours. You both agreed that waking up and putting on the previous day’s clothes was okay but not ideal. Wearing a polo shirt and khaki slacks, you look clean and presentable. “Honey, I need to get you some cowboy clothes. You look nice as always, but tonight you might stick out a bit.” She says as she has on a long skirt, a plaid shirt, and clean boots. “No stockings or panty hose?” you ask. She raises her skirt to show her bare legs. “No. I like how this feels on my legs when I dance.” She moves closer to you and whispers into your ear, “And it provides you easier access, if I get horny.” She then kisses your cheek.

“Damn. You want me hard before we leave the house, don’t you?” you respond. “Ok, so are we taking your truck, my SUV, or driving separately?”

“It’s a Saturday night and unless you have somewhere to go tomorrow morning, why don’t we take your car. If you drive, I’ll navigate.”

“Whatever you want. You lead, and I’ll follow.” You say as you grab your pea-coat.

“One last thing. Why don’t you wear one of my jackets instead. That way you blend in a bit better.” She offers.

“Ok.” You say as you pull your keys and wallet from your coat and put them in a fleece lined denim jacket she has hanging by the door. She has a few of them and you pick one that is clean and looks hardly worn. It’s a little big on you, but you like that it has lots of pockets. “That looks good on you. You can keep it.” She says with a smile.

After a second of snapping the snaps, you adjust your shoulders and arms, and feel how it fits. It is comfortable, but then a thought enters your mind.

“Are you ashamed of how I look?”

“Oh no, Honey. I have just seen trouble at cowboy bars like ‘Big Earl’s’ before. Not all of the locals are tolerant of newcomers. And sometimes there is trouble before you can even sit down. I just want to go out, have fun, drink and dance with you. If you are dressed like a cowboy, you blend in a bit more, but I am not embarrassed to be seen with you. Are you embarrassed by me?” She asks with a serious tone to her voice.

You reach up and put your hands on her face. “I am always proud to be with you. You are strong, beautiful, and talented. You are everything I want.”

“You are everything I want too.” She says and hugs you tightly. Your face pressing down into her full breasts.

“Okay, enough of that. I like the jacket. Maybe tomorrow we can get me a Stetson to go with it.”

“I think you would look better with a Fedora. Real cowboys wear hats that fit and are comfortable. You need a brim that goes all the way around your head but isn’t too big or too small. A wide brim Stetson looks good on a large man, but out of place on a smaller one, just as a smaller brim hat looks wrong on a larger man.” She explains.

Stepping out of the house, the early evening air is cool but still damp. You breathe it in and put your hands in the pockets of the jacket, thankful for the fleece lining.

As you walk to your car, you continue, “So you really know about hats?”

She chuckles, “Hats are another needed piece of equipment. Just like gloves and boots. You want the right one for the right job.”

She gets in. Her skirt rides up a bit showing her lovely legs. You glance down.“So sexy.” You say in a breathy exhale and start the engine. 

She takes her phone and calls Sonja. “We are leaving the house. Yes, see you soon.”

During the drive, she talks about hats, boots, ropes and other things you really hadn’t thought about. As you talk about ropes, a thought crosses your mind. “So if you wanted to tie me up in bed, what kind of rope would you use?”

Without thinking, she says “Silk, Cotton, or a smooth nylon. Something that wouldn’t leave too many marks or be rough on your skin.”

“Really? Have you used ropes on your lovers before?” you ask, genuinely curious.

She gets quiet for a moment. “Yes…” You are still focused on the dark highway, but you feel like she is blushing. “When I was younger, my boyfriend at the time, wanted to try somethings we saw in porn movies. We used rawhide, hemp, sisal, and a few other things we had handy. Rope burns aren’t a pretty thing and having to explain how you got rope burns on your wrists to your buddies or your boss, isn’t a good thing either.”

You chuckle at that, thinking about going into the office, meeting with a client, and having your wrists covered because you have rope burns on them.

“It isn’t funny.” She says, thinking that you are laughing at her.

“Of course it isn’t my Queen. I am just thinking about if you left marks like that on me.”

She leans next to you. “I always want to play with you, but I never want to hurt you.”

You put an arm around her, “I know. And it is good to know that if we want to use ropes in bed, you have thoughts about how to do it safely.”

After a few minutes, she asks “Do you want to be tied up? You saw what I can do to a calf.” You shake your head and chuckle again. “Not really. I love how you are during sex. I don’t need tied up or bound, and I’m not really interested in doing that to you. But if in the future we wanted to try something different, it’s good to know you already have a plan.”

“So, what are your thoughts on pegging?” she asks.

You pause for a moment “I’ve never tried it, nor really thought about it. It is something…”

She then breaks out in fits of laughter after seeing the slightly scared expression on your face, lit by the headlights of the oncoming traffic. “I’m kidding. I love how you lick my pussy and how your hard cock feels inside of me. I’m not interested in filling your ass. But the look on your face was priceless.”

The rest of the ride she changes the subject to line dancing. You have danced with her, previously, but you really didn’t know many line dances. You mention how you will do your best to follow your lead.

Pulling into the gravel parking lot, you weren’t sure what to expect. There is an old neon sign saying, “Big Earl’s”. The windows have lit signs like “Cold Beer” “On Tap” and “Cerveza”. Your SUV doesn’t look too out of place. You see lots of pick-up trucks and Jeeps, but also a few SUVs including the same make as yours. As you step out of the car, you can hear the country music and feel the thump of feet dancing.

Inside you smell beer, food, perfume, and sweat. You really aren’t a huge country music fan, but you know Rebecca enjoys it. You love seeing her happy, and you enjoy dancing with her. Rebecca sees Sonja and leads you to a small round table. She has a plate of nachos and a mostly full glass of beer. “You timed that well. My food just arrived.” She says pointing to the plate. “Dig in.” and she waves for the waitress. Whereas Rebecca has on a long skirt and plaid top, Sonja has on tight jeans and a black top with white embroidery. Both of them look so beautiful. She looks at you, “So what’ll you have?”

You think for a second. If you were at your local brew pub, you would have the lager or a blonde ale, but you don’t want to tell these women that you “Want a blonde.” So you just smile and ask “What do they have on tap?” “We’ll ask.” She responds as the waitress comes over. The waitress rattles off the major brands on tap and you pick one that you like. It’s not your favorite but it’s the kind of thing that goes well with chips and snacks.

You take off your jacket and place it on the back of your chair. The air in the bar is a little warm.

In a couple of minutes she returns. Rebecca hold up her beer “Here is to another good day of roping and riding.” “Amen to that Sister.” Sonja says clinking her glass. You clink theirs and take a sip. The music changes and the intro notes to a fast line dance starts. Rebecca puts down her glass and grabs both you and Sonja. “Come on” she says pulling you onto the dance floor. You line up between the ladies and do your best to follow the moves. It isn’t too hard. It’s just something you aren’t used to doing. By the end of the song you think you finally have all of the steps. The next song is similar. But of course, the steps are a bit different. This one slides more, whereas the previous one stepped more, but you do your best. You start to sweat a bit. Rebecca smiles at you every time she turns towards you. When the song ends you head back for your beer. The ladies follow.

“You weren’t too bad out there.” Sonja says. “I expected far worse.”

You take a sip from your beer. “Really, why’s that?”

“Earlier today, you looked like a longshoreman, and now you look like a guy from an insurance commercial.” She says drinking from her glass.

Rebecca gives you a sideways hug, “I know you can dance, regardless of how you are dressed.”

You think about it for a moment, looking at these two beautiful tall women. “You both are probably use to people thinking you don’t match their expectations. I mean, Sonja, I only noticed a few black cowgirls competing today. And Rebecca, my queen, there weren’t too many women competing in Tie Down. So anyone going up against both of you would be pleasantly surprised.” You say holding up your glass.

“Here is to breaking expectations.” Sonja says. “Amen” Rebecca responds.

The night goes on like this for a while. Sonja or Rebecca hearing a song they want to dance to and going onto the floor, pulling you to be their partner. You expected to dance with Rebecca, but you enjoy dancing with Sonja too. Both ladies are enjoying themselves.

Rebecca moves her chair closer to yours and from time to time rubs your thigh. Whispering into your ear how horny she is.

“Why’d you get two? Hell, they’re head taller than you.” A drunken cowboy says, coming over from the bar towards your table. “What you ladies need is a real man.”

Rebecca turns “Oh, I have a real man. Why don’t you go sleep it off cowboy?”

“We’re fine right here. Do as my friend says and call it a night.” Sonja comments politely.

“He’s just a little shrimp. You gals need a man who packing some real meat.” He says grabbing his crotch.

Sonja steps up to him and looks him eye to eye. “You have no clue what he’s packing. Nor what I really need. So why don’t you sit back down, or better yet go home.”

“Fucking dykes.” He swears as he turns.

“Dumbass limp dick wanna be.” She responds.

“Bitch” he says and goes to hit her. She catches his hand and locks her boot behind his, putting him on the bar floor.

“Be thankful I don’t have a tie down handy, or I’d hog tie you like the little bitch you are.” She says with more venom in her voice than you expected.

You stand up and grab your jacket. “Ladies. Why don’t we call it night? I know I had fun and we need to drive home before it gets too late.”

Sonja grabs her drink and finishes it. “Yeah, you are right. If I don’t stop now, I might do or say something that gets me in trouble.” The drunk cowboy is still lying on the floor looking confused as to how he got there. A guy, probably one of his buddies, comes over and helps him up. “I told you to let them be.”

Outside, the air feels so much colder. You start up your car as Rebecca hugs Sonja. “Are you sure you are okay?” “Yeah, just another dumb ass. Thanks for coming out tonight. Maybe we can do this again, sometime.”

“I know of a couple of brew pubs in the city, I would love to show you.” You yell out the window. “I might take you up on that.” She yells back.

Rebecca gets in and you head out.

“Did you have fun?” She asks you as she looks for a country music station on the radio. “I did. Sonja is a good dancer. Too bad she didn’t have a date. There were a few double couple dances that we could have done. I hope that drunk didn’t spoil your mood.”

She leans against you again and slowly caresses your thigh. “No. Not at all. Do you want to feel?” She asks as she takes your right hand and places up under her skirt. Her legs feel so smooth and warm as you move higher up to her damp panties.

“Mmmm. Are you wet because of me?” You respond in a seductive tone.

She kisses your cheek and whispers into your ear, “Of course. You are a real man and packing everything I want.”

You sigh and smile. “Let me focus on driving. I would hate to get into an accident.”

She playfully licks your ear. “Ok. I’ll wait.” As she turns up the music.

Once you are home, you go directly to her bedroom. The brass frame bed always reminds you of something from a western movie. She goes to undress but you stop her.

“Wait. Sit on the bed.”

She sits, a couple of buttons on her blouse are undone. You take her right foot and slide off her boot. The cotton sock on her foot is warm and damp. You slowly pull it off and rub the bottom of her foot. “Oooohhh.” She says and lies back on the bed. The bottom of her foot is rough but you rub it and massage it. “That feels so good. But why?”

You kiss the top of her foot. “You have been on them all day, you won one of your events, and you have been dancing. A foot massage can be excellent foreplay.” You then pull off the left boot and sock. As you massage her left, she softly moans in pleasure. “Damn. I love it. But just lick my pussy.” She says almost impatiently.

You chuckle. “Good things come to those who wait.” You say as you set down her foot and then pull her to a sitting position. Slowly you finish unbuttoning her blouse and then slide it off her arms. You kiss her lips, then her neck.

You reach behind her and unclasp her bra. You kiss her right shoulder as you slowly slide the straps down her arms. You can tell she has been drinking. She is always horny and a little impatient when she’s had a few. “Dammit. Suck my nipples. Don’t tease me.” She begs. Her dark nipples are so hard with anticipation. You smile “Of course my Rodeo Queen.” And then lick around her right nipple before sucking it firmly. She puts a hand on your head and grips your hair as you suck it harder. You move your left hand up her skirt and rub the wet fabric of her panties against her pussy lips. Slowly rubbing up and down as you now suck the left nipple. “You are so good at this.” She says breathlessly.

You fully raise the skirt and slide her cotton panties off. Her trimmed bush looks so beautiful, and her wet lips are so tasty. You move between her legs, placing them on your shoulders. Slowly you lick up and down, using the tip of your tongue along her damp lips. Then you lick between them and up around her clit. You clamp your mouth on her clit and suck it firmly. She pulls your hair as she tightens her thighs around your head. “You know just what to do.” You feel her pussy pulse against your mouth as she orgasms.

You crawl up her body, kissing your way up until you kiss her mouth. The flavor of her pussy fresh on your lips. “My turn.” She says as she rolls you onto the bed. She stands up, steps out of her skirt and then pulls off your slacks. She smiles appreciatively at your tented briefs. You pull off your shirt as she frees your hard cock, stroking and licking it. She wants you hard and wet before she rides you. You lie back on the bed and soon she mounts you. Those strong thighs you have fantasized about all day, straddle you as she lowers herself on you. She grips your hands and slowly rocks back and forth. The same movement she did in the saddle. Her clit grinds against you every time she goes forward. It doesn’t take long for pleasure to move through you too, as she cums again.

She dismounts and then lies next to you, holding you tightly. “You are everything I want.”

“I agree, my queen. You are everything I want too.” You respond kissing her.

“Tomorrow we will look for a hat to go with the jacket.” She sighs.

“And you won’t need a rope to do it.” You say playfully, pressing your body against hers and drifting off to sleep.

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Chaos

 

Chaos

Disruption

Shutting Down

Shifting Around

Breaking of Norms

Rerouting of Finances

Displacement of People

Closure or Realignment of Offices

Tearing Down of Long Held Beliefs

Actively Disregarding Laws and Agreements

Promotion of Ideas that were once Dismissed

Celebrating Dismantling of Branches of Government

Placing One in-Charge instead of supporting Three Co-Equals

 

As we watch and listen to the news, think of what part we are playing. Are we adding to the chaos? Are we watching as they build a pyramid of power and self-glory out of the rubble of our institutions? Are we adding bricks to their pyramid and cheering as they build and restructure? Are we the labor, working to make the mortar and the bricks?

Or are we silently complaining when we should be standing shoulder to shoulder, helping those in need, protecting those being persecuted, and reminding those

currently in power, that we are a nation of immigrants, and all are equal.

Where are our voices? Are we screaming against the Chaos?

Raising up and marching in the streets in protest?

Or are we just watching the chaos around us?