Message-ID: <15275eli$9809130536@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Kristen78@aol.com Subject: "Public Dick" (Part 2) by Heatheranne (mfff,voy) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <644278b7.35fa99ed@aol.com> ("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age Eighteen, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text Archive name: the-pe.txt (mfff,voy) Authors name: Hetheranne (address withheld) Story Title : The Private Eye and the Public Dick Part 2 0f 2 ======================================================== Copyright notice: This work is copyrighted to the author All rights reserved © 1998 - Authorization was give to post this story to my archive and for re-posts to appro- priate newsgroups. =============== Kristen's collection ================= The Private Eye and the Public Dick (part 2 of 2) by Heatheranne Karen turned her attention to Richard. He was just as cute in person as in the video. He was wearing a pair of those sport under shorts. Sort of jockey shorts with the long legs. He needed them. There was a dis- tinct bulge running down one leg. He had that leg thrown over an arm of the chair and was mindlessly watching Susan as if she were a Saturday morning cartoon. Every few seconds he would run a hand along the length of that bulge. Karen could swear it was getting bigger, or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Wham...wham...wham... From somewhere outside their room came the sound of someone slamming their hand on a door or wall. "Susan?... Susan Myrtle-Sue Jones?...are you in there?" bawled a man from not too far away. "Oh shit," said Susan, "Its my daddy." Oh shit thought Karen, its her daddy. "Oh shit," said Bruce, "It's your daddy?" "Myrtle-Sue?" said Richard? "Susan?" yelled another, younger male voice. They all looked at Susan. "That's Jimmy, my sometimes boyfriend, he thinks he owns me." "Are they prone to violence?" asked Karen. The sound of a door frame splintering pretty well answered the question, but Susan filled in, "Yeah, Daddy loves to beat up people." "And Jimmy?" "He never gets into fist fights. He just shoots at people." "Ohhh...dear ," moaned Bruce. For such a big man, carrying such a heavy load, he was very agile. Bruce hustled his bulky body through the motel room's bathroom door without so much as brushing an elbow. The door lock clicked behind him. Karen looked at Susan. Susan was looking at Richard as if to ask, what do we do next? Richard was out of his chair but unfortunately he looked like a deer caught in the head lights. Karen went to the outside door and cracked it open. There was no one on the walkway but the two women who had been in the other room, and they were headed the other way in a hurry. She grabbed Richard by the hand. Funny, he was shorter in person than he looked on TV. Maybe that was why his... oh never mind that now, thought Karen. She dragged Richard outside and motioned for Susan to follow. Once on the walkway, Karen shoved the couple in front of her and pointed to her car. "Get in the big blue Ford down at the end." Karen could hear voices raised in anger. She felt guilty about leaving the others, well maybe not the babe guy. They were almost to the car when Karen heard a yell, "There they go Mr. Jones." "Shoot them sons of bitches," yelled the daddy, "her too, she ain't no daughter of mine." "Time to run." urged Karen. She could hear heavy foot- steps behind them. By the time they reached her car Karen had opened her car doors with the remote control. Susan and Richard piled in the back. As Karen jammed her key in the ignition, she saw that Jimmy had give up chasing them on foot. He was running for an old red pick up truck. Karen jammed her car into reverse, backed out of the parking spot, jerked the transmission into drive and headed for the exit, barely missing Jimmy as he tried to put the truck in her way. Karen had moaned when her uncle had purchased the biggest thing Ford made for company cars. He had patiently explained that most of the mechanical parts of the car were the same as those found on a cop car. Karen had grudgingly admitted that the big boats handled pretty well and she absolutely blessed him now as she bounced the car onto the highway and floored it. The big V8 rumbled and then roared up through the revs. She looked in the rear view mirror. Susan and Richard were holding on to each other, looking out the back window. Karen looked past them, Jimmy was turning onto the highway back at the motel. Her Ford changed up a gear, Karen looked at the speedometer, it was passing sixty. She left her foot on the floor. As the car got to eighty miles an hour they were beginning to catch up to traffic. Karen swerved into the oncoming lane, passed a couple of cars and then swerved back into her own lane. "Whooo.." yelled Susan. Karen looked back. Susan and Richard were piled in one corner on top of one another. "You might want to put on a seat belt," warned Karen. But the couple wasn't listening to her. They were too busy accidentally on purpose feeling up one another. Karen resisted the urge to stop and throw them out of the car. Here she was, trying to save their butts and they were making out like teenagers. But back to the matter at hand. Karen knew that she couldn't pass every car that slowed her, and eventually the traffic would allow Jimmy to catch up. She needed to lose him all together. And a few minutes later her chance appeared. "Hold on," she cried and firmly applied the brakes. The big car squatted as the anti- lock brakes let Karen keep the car under control. She felt a thump behind her and heard a yelp of pain as Susan and Richard rolled onto the floor. Serves them right , she thought, as she turned the car into a large sub-division with which she was familiar. The car plowed across the road as it looked for trac- tion. Just before Karen thought the car must go into a ditch, the tires bit, the front end came around and Karen was able to get the car traveling in a straight line once more. She gunned the car to the next inter- section and turned right. After making two more turns, she slowed dramatically and began to look for Jimmy and his red truck. When Karen decided that he must have be lost in the sub-divisions many dead ends and cul-de- sacs, she headed back to the main road and back toward the city. "Where do you want me to take you, Susan?" asked Karen. Susan's face appeared from behind the seat back. Her make up was badly smeared. "Oh...uh...I guess I better not go home for a while. Take me to my cousin Martha's house." Susan gave Karen the address. Karen drove on, mindful of the laughs and giggles coming from the back seat. What in the world were those two up to, she wondered. Karen adjusted the rear view mirror downward so she could see more of the action behind her. Oh my god, she thought. Sticking up like a fleshy periscope was Richard's cock. Karen couldn't believe it. Richard was lying on the back seat of the car and his unbelievable penis was sticking straight up, its head, nearly as big as Susan's fist, was clearly visible to anyone who cared to look in the Ford. "Uh...guys...I know that shared danger can be sort of arousing, but do you think this such a good idea?" Richard didn't reply, he looked sort of dazed. I guess his brain suffers from loss of blood when that huge boner fills up, she thought. Susan looked petulant, "Hey I want a job in the movies, and I can't pass up a chance to try out. Besides, what's your problem? Looks like you get to take him home." At that Susan crossed her arms in front of her, grabbed the bottom of her tube top and jerked it off over her head, revealing a pair of firm, young, and sizable tits. "And can you beat these, honey?" Karen opened her mouth to refute everything Susan had just said, except that part about her tits, they were terrific, but she just shut up and drove. The faster I get to cousin Martha's, the quicker I get rid of this girl, thought Karen. She couldn't help but keep an eye on the rear view mirror. Susan took her tits in hand and wrapped them around Richard's hard on. She began a steady up and down stroke with a bit of a twist at the top of her stroke. In just a minute her tits were glistening with precum and Richard was gasping and moaning. Apparently, without the necessity of saving himself for the next scene or camera shot Richard was just a guy trying to get off as quickly as possible. "That's it baby," cooed Susan. She buried his cock head in her tits and sort of jiggled her tits around it. Richard's moans became a gasping whine and his hips bucked up and down. "Oh yeah," whispered Susan, looking down at the ab- solute flood of cum that erupted from between her breasts. Susan sat there, her hands under her breasts, trying to hold them so that Richard's spunk wouldn't drip all over her. It was a ridiculous situation that had Karen stifling a laugh. She grabbed an old towel from under her seat and threw it over her shoulder. As it hit Susan in the face, Karen said, "Here, use this." The towel was used for accidental spills, although Karen had been thinking of coffee and colas, not this. By the time they reached her cousins house, Susan was dressed and Richard had tucked himself in once more. "Thank you, dear," said Susan, her voice dripping with false politeness, as she tossed the towel into Karen's lap. Karen picked up the towel with two fingers and dropped it onto the car floor. "No problem," she replied, but Susan's attention was entirely on Richard. "Now you be sure to call me." gushed Susan. "I can't miss," said Richard, holding up his arm where she'd scrawled three different phone numbers in ink. As Karen drove off, Susan was backing down the walk, waving until they were out of sight. "Well, you certainly made an impression on her," said Karen as they drove away. "Well, I know it's not my intellect or personality that impresses them. Look, I'm sorry, you saved me from a beating or worse, then I behaved awfully in your car, and I'm afraid I don't even know your name." "Karen, Karen Stark." "Hi, my name's Richard. And if its a part in a video you're after, just tell me when you can work. I owe you big time." For a second Karen had the image or her and Richard getting it on in front of a camera. He would worship her and she would handle his.... . Karen shook the fantasy out of her head. "To tell you the truth Richard, I'm a private investigator. I was hired by a man, who says he's your father, to find you." "My father? Wow, I never met him." "Would you like to? I mean I can put you two together or I can just give him your mailing address or phone number." "Oh I want to meet him. Is that where we're going?" Karen had to admit that she hadn't thought it all through. She was sort of on automatic pilot, headed in the direction of her apartment. "I guess the first thing we should do is get you some clothes. Where do you live?" It turned out that her place was much closer. "We can go by my apartment, my boyfriend has some jeans and stuff there. They shouldn't be too big on you. Then we can call your father." "Sounds like a plan to me," he smiled at Karen. "My mother certainly had a wild story to tell about him. It'll be fun to find out if it's true." "What did she say?" asked Karen. "Well, it went something like this. At the end of World War Two this Nazi doctor....not Mingle..uh... Mangle, not the famous one, but this other guy got a hold of some of that well known Nazi gold and then he and some bud's ran away to Argentina. This doctor was a real genius at genetics and pretty soon he had doubled, or something like that, the amount of beef production in that country. So no one in the govern- ment squawked when he carved out his own little empire. He was a pretty well bent dude. He was a homo, with a real thing for guys with big dicks. Uh penises." Karen laughed, "Dicks, cocks, don't worry about it." "Yeah," Richard said, "anyway, he started to experi- ment, using his buddies and breeding them to the local peasants, then giving them all sorts of chemicals. I mean, if some of these people disappeared no one dared to say anything. So, this doctor kind of struck gold when my father came along. Then my mother.." Karen interrupted, "Where does she live?" "She died in a car wreck a couple of years ago." "I'm sorry." "No problem," said Richard. "Uh ... yeah...she said my father was even more...uh ..endowed than me, and this doctor had him spend most of his time trying to knock up the local women." "Oh wow," was all Karen could think to say. "Yeah, but my mother wasn't one of those women. Her father was a gardener for the doctor and he tried to keep her hidden, as well as he could, from all the wild stuff going on around that place. But I guess she couldn't resist seeing a man who had such an erotic reputation. My mother always insisted that my father really loved her. Anyway, she ended up pregnant and my grandfather about went nuts. He shipped mom off to live with a cousin in America. She wrote letters back home trying to find out what was happening to my father. Was he coming to America to live with her, and such? But my grandfather finally convinced her to stay here and forget about my father." "It sounds like there's a movie plot in there some- where." Richard laughed, "Yeah, my friend Don, he's the guy you saw first back there. He probably called you babe about a thousand times?" Karen nodded. "he and I actually produce independent films. Maybe we could make a sort of tragic, fantasy, romance thing. Anyway, these sex videos we make help with the financing. I hope Don's all right. I'll have to call him." By that time they had pulled into Karen's parking space in front of her apartment complex. Karen picked up the towel, she couldn't believe there was so much of Richard's cum in it that she could feel its weight. She handed it to him. There's a pool around back," she said, "if you'll hold this in front of you, then people will think you're going swimming and not running around in your underwear." "OK," he grinned. Karen gathered up her things and in a minute they were in her apartment. Karen got them a couple of sodas, showed Richard the phone, and went into her bedroom to pull out Joe's jeans and a tee shirt. "Uh....Karen, could you come here a sec.?" called Richard from her living room. "Sure," she called back. When Karen walked into the room, she was shocked to see Mr. Schmidt and his aide standing there. The aide was holding a pistol casually by his side. "Good afternoon," said Schmidt, very proper, his clothing looking as fresh as it did earlier this morn- ing. A dozen confusing thoughts, questions to ask and things to say ran through Karen's mind, but then something clicked. "All those questions about what kind car I drive, you had me tailed, or put some sort of trace on it." Schmidt didn't deny anything. "But why this? Why the gun? We probably would have shown up on your door step in another hour." Schmidt nodded, "I'm afraid this isn't a movie where the villain, I suppose I am the villain here, reveals his motivation and how he intends to carry out his nefarious plans." He checked his watch and then spread his hands before him, "But please, be my guest, dazzle me with your powers of deduction. Tell me what I'm doing here." Karen looked at Richard. He was back into his deer in the headlights mode. Clearly he wasn't going to be of any help. Karen figured that she had few options to go with. She could remain passive and hope that she sur- vived whatever these two assholes had in mind, or she could try to evade them, fat chance of that, or attack them. In any case she wanted her special key chain near at hand. Karen cleared her throat, then moved casually to her living room sofa and sat. With her arm on the sofa next to the end table, her hand was only inches from her key fob baton. She desperately tried to think of something, anything to say. "Well, from what Richard said, I think you guys need him back home pretty bad. I bet your first cash cow, the Nazi doctor, has been dead a while now. And you had some sick sex racket going with Richard's daddy making boys with big dicks so you could sell them in the Far East, or maybe Rio. Then he dies, and you found out somehow that Richard was alive and well in the United States. So now you're going to kidnap him and... and..." Schmidt smiled thinly, "And what are we going to do with you?" "You're going to take my word that I won't call the cops?" "I think not," Schmidt looked at his watch once more and then looked at his aide as if he were about to give orders. "Look," squeaked Karen, "take my car. I mean, I could set up housekeeping in my trunk. You can use it to get around in and then you could leave me in there until you were about to leave the country, then you call my office and tell them where to find me. That way I get to live and you get what you want. I'm sure you have enough influence in Argentina to quash any diplomatic problems. I mean how hard will the State Department yell about a porn star with no influence or family." Schmidt and his aide exchanged looks. Schmidt gave another of his small shrugs and said "The trunk, not a bad idea, get her keys." Karen watched the aide turn toward her. She knew the inside of that trunk would be the last thing she ever saw. "Here," she said, putting some relief in her voice as if a solution to all their problems had been found. As the aide took a step in her direction, Karen first extended her right hand with the keys and then she swung up her left hand and grasp the device firmly. She lunged and pushed the button. The end of the baton snapped out and slammed into the aide's ribs. She would have heard a whoosh of agonizing pain from the aide, but it was drowned in the ear splitting explosion from his pistol when his fingers spasmed and pulled the trigger. Karen whipped the baton in an arc, keeping her arm at near full extension and smashed it onto the aide's wrist as he was trying to bring the pistol to bear. There was a satisfying crack of bone, and the pistol fell to the floor. She followed through by smashing the heel of her hand into his nose, snapping his head back. The aide staggered back into the path of Schmidt who making a play for the gun. As the two men tangled, Karen grabbed the pistol and held it on the two men. "OK," she said, her voice sounded muffled. The sound from the pistol shot had done a number on her ears. "You've broken in here and threatened us with kidnap- ping at the very least . If you want to see whether I'll use this thing, just take a step closer." The aide was busy alternating between trying to ease the pain of his broken wrist and then his bloody nose. Schmidt could only sighed and offer his man a starched white handkerchief. "Richard...Richard !" Karen had to yell at him. Richard hadn't moved through the whole thing. He blinked, "Huh?" "Pick up that phone and hit number one on the speed dial. Just say, `Karen needs help'" In five minutes two of LA's finest, uniformed female officers, had taken the pistol from Karen, called the paramedics for the aide and then, just for good measure, handcuffed everyone in sight. A few minutes after that police detectives and Karen's Uncle Max showed up. Karen and Richard were freed from the hand- cuffs. She told her story to the detectives, most of the story anyway. Then she told it again to FBI agents and then again to some people from the immigration department. Then some guys in dark suits, along with a guy who looked like he lived in a dumpster, showed up. They never spoke to Karen or Richard, but they seemed to know Max. Cell phones rang. Pagers paged. There were several whispered conversations. When the guys in black, and flannel for the dumpster guy, left, they took Schmidt and his partner, splint on the arm and taped up nose and all, with them. At some point Richard had dressed in Joe's jeans and shirt. Every time Karen glanced at Richard she saw the two female officers hovering around him like they were ten years old and he was a puppy they wanted to take home. Max walked over to Richard, "Son if I were you I'd count myself fortunate to get out this in one piece. And if you feel the urge to sue someone or tell your tale to some tabloid just remember that all of those feds here today know the number to the IRS." "No problem sir," he looked at the officers. "Are you ladies going to take me home? Want to put me back in cuffs?" "You're not a suspect, you're free." said one of the officers as they ginned at each other, and then they each took one of Richard's arms and headed for the door. "Oh," Richard sounded disappointed. As the door closed, Max turned to his niece, "OK, before I chew you out for risking your life, tell me all the stuff you left out." "Huh, what do you mean?" "I know you, I could see you holding something back from across the room." Karen took a deep breath and told her story one more time. This time she put in all the details, except for her little nooner in her office. She was close to Max, but not that close. She had recounted the big dick theory as to why Richard was being kidnapped, when Max's face contorted and his whole body shook. Karen was worried, "Uncle Max are you all right?" He burst out laughing, "I'm sorry honey, but that's the silliest thing I ever heard." "Well I'm sorry. I know I made it up on the spot, but it sounded kind of logical. Do you know any different." "Oh....," he smiled. "I apologize for laughing. Yes, I think I can put together what'll happen. That last bunch that came in were from... well never mind, but I heard enough to think that Richard's father is some sort of high panjandrum in the Argentine government, and Schmidt was probably going to blackmail him with a son that he came by under questionable circumstances." "And they're not going to be locked up? I mean you sent Richard out of here as if there would be no trial, like nothing had ever happened." "Yeah, my guess is they'll turn Schmidt over. I mean he'll end up working for the CIA or some such." Karen just waved her hand in front of her face, "What- ever," she said in disgust. Her uncle's face turned grim. "Now about using that baton on an armed attacker." Karen and her uncle talked, or maybe argued, for a while longer and then he left. She realized that she hadn't eaten since that bagel for breakfast, and decided that a shower, more than a few drinks and big meal were in order. When Karen came out of the shower, Joe was standing there. Karen had to stifle a gasp, she'd had too many surprises today. "Hey, what are you doing back so soon?" "Oh we never got off the ground. There were so many delays and problems, the powers that be decided just to wait until tomorrow." Joe turned to the closet. "Have you seen my jeans?" Oh oh, thought Karen, he loved those jeans. Karen dropped the towel she'd had wrapped around her and walked over to Joe. "If you'll wine me and dine me, then I'll tell you a hot story about those jeans." "Oh? said Joe, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and cupping a breast with the other. "And what would you like to eat?" "You know, I've had a craving all day for a big... uh... steak?" END ______________________________________________________ Kristen's collection - Directory 8 - Text 8358 -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----