Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: From: Rhettxxoo@aol.com Subject: "Southern Hospitality" by Rhett Dreams, 4/10 [mf, crime drama] SOUTHERN HOSPITALITY by Rhett Dreams (c. 1996) Chapter Three (continued) Starling went to the FBI building in downtown New Orleans directly from the airport. She found her way up to Gene Myers office, and peered into the half open door to find a man in his early forties sitting behind his desk, talking on the phone. Even if his name wasn't next to the office door she would have known him from the easy rhythms of his baritone voice as he spoke into the phone. He looked up and waved her in. Starling entered and put her small suitcase and shoulder bag down on the floor, then took a seat in front of his desk, quietly opening the briefcase on her lap to retrieve her notebook. She noticed that his blue eyes followed her as she moved, looking over the top of his reading glasses. He smiled a greeting. "If you bring him in, what are the chances he'll tell us who he paid the cash to?" said Myers into the phone, then scribbled down notes as he listened. Starling took this time to study the agent in front of her. His face was wide and open with laughing lines around the clear blue eyes. His hair was a dark mass, a bit curly, not messy exactly but kind of haphazard. His eyebrows were thick and unruly, graying along with the hair over his temples. She noticed his tie wasn't on quite straight and that his shirt was somewhat wrinkled. He was an attractive man but rumpled, like he didn't have a wife to look after him, but she looked for and found a gold band on his finger. "Sorry," he said after hanging up. "That was a detective in Beverly Hills. They've found what they believe is one of our MP's car, a Ferrari." "Oh, good," said Starling. "Welcome to N'Orleans, Clarice," he said rising from his seat and walking around his desk and extending his hand. Starling rose and shook his hand, noticing that Myers was a bear of a man, well over six feet and quite stocky. The hand that held hers was a huge mitt, holding her much smaller hand gently, as if he was afraid of crushing her. As she looked up into his warm, smiling face, she suppressed the instantly warm feeling in her gut for this man. "Slow down, Clarice," she said to herself, "he's married." '"You're much more attractive than that picture they ran of you in People Magazine two years ago," he said with a sparkle in his eyes. She remembered the college graduation picture they had run along with the story of her solving the Buffalo Bill case and recovering Senator Martin's daughter. "Come, I want to show you something," he said and led her out of the office and unlocked the door of a window-less conference room a couple of doors down the hall. One wall was covered with a huge map of the South, from the east coast states to the western borders of Texas, Oklahoma and Kansas. The map was covered with a plastic sheet and on the sheet lines and stars marked various routes in myriad colors. It was obvious even before Myers started his description of what he'd done and what each line represented, that there was a convergence area for all the lines along the gulf coast, from New Orleans through Biloxi, Mobile, and Pensacola. She sat and listened as Myers stood in front of the map and told each story in turn, succinctly. Each colored line represented a different case, starting with a star that represented the MPs point of departure. A smaller star represented a known or suspected stop for gas or food. The lines continued on logical routes to their believed destinations. Small arrows every hundred miles indicated direction. "This next one, the Keating case, is especially interesting" he was saying, pointing to the orange star in Atlanta and the solid line that led southwest down Interstate 85 to Montgomery and from there to Mobile. "She was on her way to Lake Charles, Louisiana, alone, driving a big BMW. The ones that go for seventy-five grand. She stopped for the night at a Holiday Inn here," his finger stabbed the orange star half- way between Montgomery and Mobile. "She had a reservation in New Orleans for the next night, but never showed." He traced the now-dashed orange line along the gulf coast of Mississippi and into Louisiana. Most all the lines followed this route, some going east and some west, and became dashed for the stretch between New Orleans and Mobile. "That's were we focus," he said, stabbing his meaty finger at Biloxi, Mississippi. They talked about the case for another two hours and about what they'd do when Agent Quinn joined them the next morning. "I should go check in," she said when they wound down, a little before six. She had thoroughly enjoyed the discussion and was thrilled to be working with this man. "Nonsense," he drawled, looking at his watch, and then slapping his forehead. "Oh, Lord... Follow me, Clarice," he said and hurried out of the conference room in the direction of his office. By the time she had gathered her note pad and pen and caught up with him, he was on the phone. "Yeah, hon... sorry," he was saying into the phone, "one more for dinner... yeah, that sounds great... uh huh... thanks, hon." "You're coming to my house for dinner," he announced after hanging up. "We have a guest room with it's own bath. You'll be saying the Bureau some money." "I can't impose on your wife like that," said Starling. "You wont be imposing, and it's not my wife. She passed away eighteen months ago. My daughter, Nora, is home from college and has made a big pot of gumbo. She'll be delighted to meet you." "Oh," she said. "Sure, I guess so... that would be great." She felt the return of the stirrings in her body as they picked up her bags and went down the elevator to the parking garage. She really liked this man. She had also been without a man for eight months, her last lover being Dr. Noble Pilcher, a Ph.D. entomologist at the Smithsonian Institute. He was funny, smart and good looking in a nerdy kind of way. She enjoyed the sex with him, but she also knew that she didn't love him and never would. He understood this, after a while, and they parted after agreeing to remain good friends. When she looked at Myers' broad handsome face she felt light-headed, and this had never been the case with hew other men she had taken to bed. They took his car, a five-year old Ford Explorer. He had to move a stack of papers and magazines before she could sit down. He tossed them in the back. The car had the same cluttered, rumpled look as the man. They drove for fifteen minutes and he pointed out things as he went, pieces of N'Orleans history, famous houses and buildings and restaurants. He pulled into the driveway of an old Victorian-era house, and she instantly loved the southern feel of the house's wide wrap-around porch. He took her bags and led the way inside, showing her to a large first floor guest bedroom, dropping her bags on the antique four-poster bed. "C'mom," he said. "My bet is we'll find Nora in the kitchen." Nora Myers was a tall, lanky girl in her late teens, with long brown hair and her father's clear blue eyes. She greeted Clarice warmly, offering her a taste of the spicy gumbo she was stirring. Nora and Clarice chatted while Gene went outside to set the table on the brick patio in back, the table shaded by a large tree. Nora talked about her first year at college up North, were she was studying oceanography. Then she quizzed Clarice about life as a woman agent for the FBI, and about the Buffalo Bill case. The girl checked the rice and when she turned she saw Clarice staring out the window at her father, her expression showing admiration. "What do you think of the old guy?" said Nora, moving next to the older girl and watching her father sort out silverware is his meaty paws and place them on the nicely folded cloth napkins. "He makes my knees weak," said Clarice, without thinking, then blushed as she realized what she'd said to Gene's daughter. "He's a hunk," agreed Nora. "But kind of dense about women. Don't expect him to make the first move, Clarice. He tries so hard to be chivalrous that you'd think he was uninterested." She looked directly into Starling's attractive face and added, "He ain't." - o - After a delicious dinner, Nora excused herself and went inside. She'd explained to Clarice that her summer job started early and she'd read a bit before calling it a night. Clarice could tell, however, that she was just trying to get out of the way. Gene refilled Clarice's wine glass and told her to relax while he cleared the dishes. She sat back and enjoyed the warm summer evening, feeling the effects of the wine and the candlelight and the star-filled sky. She noticed an upstairs light go on, then another, and could make out the shadowy form of Nora as she moved from the bedroom to the bath, preparing for bed. She could see Gene's large form in the kitchen window, working at the sink. As she watched him and sipped her wine she felt a tingling in her sex, and wondered if she should sleep with him while she was here. As soon as she voiced that thought in her mind she was sure of one thing, that she wanted to make love to him, tonight, and feel those hands on her body. When he returned to the patio she rose and handed him his glass of wine. He clinked his against hers and said, "To solving this case." They each took a swallow, their eyes on one another. "No shop talk," said Clarice as she lowered her glass. Feeling bold from the wine and the feelings she had for this man, she moved up inside his arms and looked up into his eyes. Her hand held his necktie and slowly pulled until his head lowered and their lips met for a soft kiss. "You're kinda growin' on me, Myers," she said, her lips not even an inch from his. "Oh?" he said, barely a whisper. She kissed him again, harder this time. "I feel like a shameless hussy," she said when they broke. She could feel his heart beating quickly beneath her hand on his massive chest. "But your daughter told me I'd have to be direct." She kissed him a third time, wetly, and their tongues danced together through a lengthy kiss that had them both breathing hard when they broke. "Will you make love to me tonight?" she asked. "Yes," he said, his voice hoarse. "I'm gonna go take a shower," she said. She gave him a quick kiss, squeezed his hand and walked toward the house, noticing the curtains move in the upstairs bedroom. She showered after unpacking her nightgown and toiletry kit. After washing her hair and soaping and rinsing off her body, she used her safety razor to touch up her legs and underarms. Then she spread her slender legs apart and brought the razor down to the silky brown hair partially covering her sex. It was her particular vanity to keep herself trimmed to a neat, small patch just over the lips of her sex. Dried off and wrapped in a towel, Clarice returned to the bedroom. She searched through the bedside table, hoping to find condoms. Clarice she was not on the pill, for health reasons, and had not thought to pack any with her. She didn't find any, but did find two small glass bowls with short candles in the middle. She found matches and lit the candles, placing one on either side of the bed. The she pulled off the bedspread and folded it up, then pulled the blanket down to the bottom of the bed. She turned off the overhead light, leaving the room illuminated only by the candles. Discarding the towel, she reached for her nightgown, wishing she'd packed something lacy and sexy instead of this worn looking gown, a nightshirt really. Deciding to remain nude, she brought the gown back to her bag and put it away. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and stared at her reflection. Her apple-sized breasts were firm and high on her chest, her stomach flat from her rigorous exercise routine, her legs well-muscled and shapely. "Not bad, Starling," she said. She watched herself in the mirror as she brushed her hair, her free hand tracing up her belly and over her breasts. Her nipples lengthened under her fingers and she could feel her sex wet itself in anticipation of Gene's arrival. - o - Gene knocked softly on the door five minutes later. He dressed in a robe after showering upstairs and he could feel his heart beating faster than normal in his chest. He heard her voice say enter, and opened the door. It took his eyes a few moments to become accustom to the dim light, but when he saw Clarice sitting naked on the edge of the bed, his heart raced even faster and his mouth felt suddenly dry. She stood as he approached, watching his face as his glance traveled over her body, from her firm breasts, the nipples stiff and long, down to her sparsely covered sex. She walked into his arms and kissed him, wetly, and felt his massive hands circle her body and hold on to her ass. Then he was lifting her, pulling her off the ground and into his chest, their tongues dancing together as the kiss lengthened. It seemed to go on for an eternity, but they finally broke, and he returned her to her feet, his hands moving to her waist, holding her away from him, his eyes on her breasts. "You're lovely," he whispered, his voice deep and passionate. Clarice grabbed his wrists and brought his hands up to her breasts, pressing them into the firm flesh, wanting his large hands there, and in her sex, on her ass. She looked up into his face as his hands kneaded her gently, and she could feel her erect nipples press into his palms. Reaching down she undid his robe, pulling the sides apart and pushing it off his broad shoulders. His hands left her breasts for the moment it took to shed the robe, then he pulled her too him, turning her easily with his strong hands, pressing her back to his body. His mouth lowered to kiss her neck and his hands kneaded her firm mounds, before one slid down her body and cupped her sex. "Ohhh," she moaned, feeling a thick digit enter her sex and his cock pressed against her back. She moved her legs farther apart. "It's been a while," he whispered into her ear while his finger rubbed over her clit. "For me too," she said. "Too long," she whispered. "Do me like this, Gene. Make me cum using your hands... your fingers." He pulled on her nipples and dug a second finger into her tight snatch, playing her body like an instrument. She was quite different that his late wife, hard and angular where his wife had been soft and round. His hands caressed and probed, his thick fingers flashing back and forth in her tight sex until she came, crying out loudly, squirming against him as the waves of her orgasm rocked her body. He picked her up when she was finished and laid her down the bed, then sat down next to her, one hand resting on her thigh. His eyes feasted over her body, watching her breasts rise and fall with her quick breathing, to the neatly trimmed hair below and the wet, open lips of her sex. Clarice opened her eyes and smiled when she saw his eyes on her sex and felt his hand caressing her thigh. She turned her head and found his cock, a thick pole standing stiff, the heart-shaped head glistening in the dim light from pre-cum that had oozed from the tip and been spread when she moved her back against him. She reached out and took his cock in her hand, marveling at its beauty and thickness. It was not terribly long, maybe seven or so inches, but thick like the man himself. "Oh, shit," she said and then giggled. Seeing his cock reminded her that she had no condom. She told Gene of her need and saw his face cloud with doubt. "I don't... think I have any, Clarice." "So much for spontaneity," she said. He laughed and said, "Well, there are other ways to make love, as you've so beautifully demonstrated." Clarice smiled but she wanted him inside her, badly. "You could pull out, y'know, before..." "Not in my current sate, Clarice. You've got me as excited as a sixteen year-old virgin. I wouldn't trust myself." "Then the second time," she said, scooting over on the bed and urging him on. She positioned him on his back and knelt next to his hips, her ass resting on her heels. She took his cock in her hand and stroked it, feeling the weight and hardness with her fingers. "I'd like to suck you off," she said, keeping her blue eyes on his as she lowered her head and licked the head of his cock. "Oh, yes, babe," he said. She kissed the head several times before taking it past her lips and into her mouth. Gene moaned as he felt the warmth and wetness of her mouth envelop him. She brought him along slowly for several minutes, licking and kissing his cock, and sucking gently when she took him deep in her mouth. Her free hand went to his balls and cupped the heavy sacs as she intensified her sucking, bobbing her head up and down, her cheeks hollowing out to provide the maximum pressure on his rod. "Ohhhh," he moaned and she felt his shaft jerk in her mouth and the first jet of cum splash against her throat. She swallowed as quickly as she could and continued bobbing up and down as jet after jet of hot cum blasted into her mouth. Chapter Four "If I make you as excited as a sixteen year-old virgin, it shouldn't take more than five minutes for you to recover, right?" Starling felt his chest vibrate beneath her as he laughed. She was laying on top of him, her fingers playing with the curly hair on his chest. "Those were the days," he said. She lifted herself up and kissed his chin, then his lips, then his eyelids. "This may be an impertinent question to ask a father, but... might Nora have a condom that we could use." His eyes opened, and he looked at her for a moment, before rolling her over and lying on top of her, but with most of his considerable weight on his elbows and knees. "You are an impertinent little thing, Starling." he said, his eyes laughing. "And a shameless hussy, Myers," she said. "That too," he said and kissed her. "But I want you inside me," she said. "I want you to fuck me, Gene." They kissed again, and she could feel the first stirrings of his cock pressed against her thigh. "Maybe I should flip you over and take your ass," he said, his eyebrows arched, humor in his eyes. He noticed her face register surprise. "Forget I mentioned that," he said, quickly, kicking himself mentally for breaking the lovely mood. "Have you, um, ever done that," asked Starling. "Anal, I mean." Gene let out a breath and said, "Yeah, but I wasn't really sugg---" "No, I'm curious," she said and blushed. "With your wife?" "Yes," he said. "It may surprise you to know that you're only the second woman I've ever made love to. You and Chris." He kissed her softly, then rolled the two of them sideways so she wasn't crushed under his weight. Their faces were six inches apart. "Chris was, well, a wonderful lady. Two years into our marriage, this was before Nora, she noticed that we we're making love as often. She went out and bought "Joy of Sex" and bullied me into trying new things. It was like being a newlywed again. Over the years she'd be the one to introduce new things... sexy lingerie, role-playing... lots of beautiful things that kept our marriage young. I had no imagination compared to Chris." "Me either, I'm afraid," she said. "Did you... did she, like anal sex." "Uh huh," he said. "That's it, "uh huh"," complained Clarice. "Uh huh," he said. Clarice laughed and rolled away from him and off the bed, and he watched her walk over to where his robe had dropped earlier. "Why don't you make us a drink," she said, pulling his robe on and chuckling at the size of the garment on her much smaller body. She went upstairs and found the light still on under the door of what she figured must be Nora's room. She knocked softly and entered when she heard Nora's voice. Nora was in bed, two pillows behind her back, reading. Her face broke into a huge smile when she saw Clarice enter and cross the room dressed in her father's robe. "Oh, boy," she said. "You said that I'd have to take the initiative," said Clarice, sitting on the edge of Nora's bed. Nora smiled and said, "I'm really glad... for both of you but 'specially dad." "I've got a weird favor to ask you... I didn't pack any condoms, not expecting.. y'know... and your dad doesn't have any." "Oh!" said Nora, giggling. She motioned for Clarice to get up, then slid out of bed and led the her across the room to her dresser, her arm around the older girl's waist. She opened her top draw and pushed aside a bunch of lacy lingerie. At the bottom of the drawer were several books, several dildos and vibrators, a box of condoms and, to Clarices surprise, a tube of K-Y jelly and an enema bag. She noticed that one of the books was, "Nine and a half Weeks." Clarice remembered reading that erotic story several years back, disturbed at her body's reaction to the escalating scenes of dominance and submission. "You're welcome to anything," said Nora. "My goodness," said Clarice, blushing slightly as her hand passed over a foot-long black dildo and retrieved the box of condoms. "This'll sound strange to you but most of this stuff was a gift from my mom, in a box that she'd left for me to open after she'd passed away." Nora retrieved a small notebook from the drawer. Clarice noted that it was filled with neatly penned writing, and the girl's voice broke as she explained the notebook to Clarice. "She wrote me this... her thought and ideas about sex... about letting your body and mind stay open to new experiences... it's really beautiful." Tears were running down one cheek and Clarice hugged her. "If your father doesn't kick me out after tonight, maybe you can help me with some of this," said Clarice, indicating with a wave of her hand the contents of the drawer. "I'm not very experienced, and I don't have your mom's wonderful imagination." Nora wiped away her tears, smiled and hugged Clarice. Clarice pulled a condom from the box, thought again, and took a second. She said goodnight to Nora and turned toward the door. "Wait... wait a sec, Clarice. What size are you?" "Six," she said. "Bra?" "Thirty-four." Nora smiled and rummaged through her lingerie. "Take off that ugly robe, Agent Starling. We're gonna give ol' dad a surprise." She pulled out two lacy things in a fuchsia color, and held them up for Clarice to see. The bra was tiny, the cups not meant to cover more than the bottom third of the breasts, leaving the nipples exposed. The panties were cut severely up the sides, showing almost all of the thighs, and fastened at the crotch. "Were these your mom's?" said Clarice, intrigued by the sexy lingerie but certain that it would be too bizarre if she showed up in his late wife's things. "Mine," said Nora. Clarice threw off the robe and quickly slipped on the bra and panties. When she stood in front of the mirror, with Nora standing behind her also examining her father's new lover in the reflection, she felt and looked sexier than she ever had before. "I look like a total slut," said Clarice, smiling at Nora's reflection in the mirror. "Uh huh," said her coconspirator, smiling back. "He'll go nuts." At the foot of the grand staircase, Starling removed the robe and hung it over the edge of the railing. A smile on her face, she strolled down the hall to her bedroom. She was about to enter through the half open door when she heard a voice behind her. "Over here, Clarice." She turned and looked into the family room, now dimly lit by candles, and saw the large shape of Gene Myers in one of the easy chairs. She entered the room, her hips swaying a bit more than normal, her breasts held up and together by the half- bra, her stiff nipples leading the way like beacons. "My goodness," she heard him say as she approached and entered the range of the candle's light. "Hi, lover," she said, noticing now that she was a couple of feet from where he sat that he was still nude. The sight of his strong male body caused her sex to tingle in anticipation. "I was worried that you'd switch partners," he said, handing her a glass containing a generous portion of amber liquid. "Cognac?" she said, swirling the glass under her nose. "Armanac, actually," he said. Clarice took a seat in an easy chair that diagonally faced his. She put her legs up on the coffee table, next to the bottle of Armanac, and crossed them at the ankles. She took a small swallow of her drink, watching Gene over the edge of the glass, and felt the liquid burn slightly as it went down her throat. "Nora is sweet, but she's not my type, Myers." "I'm glad to hear that, Starling. I want you to myself tonight." "You got me... oh, and my journey was a success." She held up two foil-wrapped condom packages. "In more ways than one. You look incredibly sexy." "You can thank your daughter for this little number," she said, emphasizing the word little, and chuckling happily. It was strange, she thought, and a totally new experience for her, to be sitting like this with a man, wearing lingerie that made her feel more exposed and sexy than if she was nude. "Hell," she thought, "it was also unheard of for straight-laced Clarice Starling to be sleeping with a man she just met." Gene leaned forward and poured himself another drink. "Normally," he drawled after he had finished pouring his drink, and capping the bottle, "I don't let guests put their feet on the furniture." He ran the back of his fingers up her slender leg. "Will you make an exception for me, an uncouth West Virginia girl barely a generation out of the coal mines?" "Only 'cause your legs are so fine," he said. Clarice uncrossed her legs and slid forward in her seat, sipping her drink while his huge hand caressed up to the inside of her thighs, then back down, slowly, to her ankles. "You don't think they're too muscular?" she asked. He shook his head. "Jogging?" "Uh huh," she said, "and swimming, and martial arts." "Rank?" "Black, second degree." "And I've heard you're probably the best shot in the Bureau, with either hand." "Brigham's much better," she said, remembering her gunnery instructor at the Academy. "Nevertheless," he said, "I've got to remember never to piss you off." She laughed and widened her legs as his hand made its way up her thigh, only to stop maddeningly short of her sex. She sighed and took another swallow of her drink. "You're pissing me off now, Myers" she said, lifting one leg off the coffee table and draping it over the edge of the hair, the invitation clear. He chuckled and dropped to his knees, pushing the coffee table away to give him the space he needed in front of her chair. This time it was his lips and tongue that traced a path up her leg. When he reached the small triangle of silk covering her panties he heard her whisper about the snap he could use to open them. He ignored her and continued to make love to each of her thighs, then rose from his haunches to position himself so he could flick his tongue back and forth over one long, stiff nipple then the next. She moaned when he took a nipple between his teeth and chewed it gently. Her free hand combed through his mass of hair, pressing him to her breast, enjoying the exquisite feelings coming from her hard nubs. When his mouth left her breasts and slipped down her flat stomach, she pushed his head down, urging him lower. He complied, and was soon kissing and mouthing her sex through the thin fabric that covered it. He lifted her other leg off the table and draped it over the other arm of the chair, then slid his massive hands between her ass and the seat of the chair. Lifting her ass off the chair, his mouth returned to her sex. "Lick me!" she cried, her passions enflamed. "Put your tongue in me." He used his teeth to pop the small snaps at the crotch of her panties. "Ohhh," she cried when his tongue found her erect clit. He carefully avoided the sensitive nub and drove his tongue as deep as it would go into her hole, pressing his face up against her sex. He proceeded to tongue her for several minutes, avoiding her clit because he knew she'd climax before he wanted her to. "Oh, God, Gene," she cried, "make me cum!" He withdrew his long tongue from her sex and lifted her further off the chair. Clarice cried out in surprise when she felt his tongue slid back to her rosette and flick back and forth over the virgin hole. "Oh my... Oh my!" she said as his tongue teased her rosette, the new and incredibly edge. She moaned in disappointment when his tongue finally ended its assault. Looking down past her heaving breasts she saw his eyes reappear at the vee between her spread thighs, watching her. She felt his mouth cover her sex and waited, desperate, for his tongue to enter her again and give her the release she sought. Instead, she felt his fingers shift beneath her and one digit rotate in small circles over her now-slick anus. "Oh, Jesus!" she cried when she felt the finger force its way inside her ass. "Ohhh," she moaned as the new feelings added to her already overheated senses. Then she felt his tongue return to her clit, flicking quickly over the sensitive nub, driving her very quickly to the edge and beyond. The orgasm that followed was the best of her life, continuing for what seemed like an eternity, the dual assault on her virgin ass and clit sending her body into convulsion after convulsion. -- Story Submission: Newsgroup FAQ: Archive site: (Not pretty yet)