A Hot Summer Night – Fay Arthur Part One
My name is Fay Arthur and I’m a private detective. A female private detective. Some of my male colleagues have a problem with that but, as I say to them, ‘get over it’. Okay, I can be pushy and ballsy, but I’m soft inside with a heart of gold.
I was on a case, which always got my juices flowing. I’d been hired to find Emma McManners, an eighteen-year-old runaway. Emma’s parents were loaded and they told me to spare no expense. They wanted their daughter back, whatever the cost.
Emma’s father had supplied me with a lead – she had last been seen in a nightclub, the Ace of Hearts. This was the good news. The bad news was that the Ace of Hearts was owned by Antonio Baresi, my ex, a man with Italian ancestry and a taste for the shadier side of life. I had no wish to visit Tony, but a lead is a lead and I had to follow it up. So on a sultry summer’s evening I drove into the centre of the city and parked my vintage Alfa Romeo – a car acquired from Tony as part of our divorce settlement – outside the nightclub.
The nightclub was buzzing when I arrived, jumping with alcohol-fuelled bonhomie. Couples were dancing, smooching, groping and one businessman made a drunken fumble for my rear, but I side-stepped him with ease. From the sweaty, gyrating dance floor I made my way passed the gaming tables and on to the stairs. The stairs led to the upper storeys of the building and I was heading for the second floor and Tony’s private room.
I paused outside Tony’s office and listened to his deep, dark voice. Tony was a handsome man – tall, dark, with even features. But for all his good looks, his voice seduced me when we first met. I could still recall the days and nights when he would hold me and whisper sensual words into my ear. His words made me melt, and when I melted he could do anything with me, anything he liked. Tony was a fantastic lover and that almost made up for his shortcomings in other areas. I married him for love and we were together for two tempestuous years. I have to admit that when things started to fall apart I only stuck around because of the sex.
From inside the office, a female laughed; it was a dirty laugh, a laugh that told me she was in his arms. Maybe I still felt something for Tony, maybe not, but it still hurt to think of him screwing another woman. Well, one thing was for sure – I wasn’t going to listen in; I opened the door and barged into the room.
I was right, they were kissing, passionately. He was sitting in his high-backed leather chair and she was sitting in his lap. He had a hand on her thigh, under her light summer dress while her arms were wrapped around his neck. Her nipples were straining against the flimsy material of her dress and it was clear that she wasn’t wearing a bra. When the door opened, they turned and stared at me. The woman, attractive with collar-length blonde hair and a curvaceous figure, looked startled, while Tony looked amused. She was in her early twenties, ten years younger than me, and maybe I felt a pang of jealousy because she was so good looking and because she was sitting in Tony’s lap. But I feigned an air of indifference, took a confident stride into the room and kicked the door closed behind me.
“Here, Celeste,” Tony said to his paramour, “take this. Play the tables.” He dipped his fingers into his waistcoat and pulled out a wad of notes. Then he ran the notes over Celeste’s thigh before sliding them under the elastic waistband of her skimpy knickers.
Celeste rose from Tony’s lap. He patted her firm buttocks. Then she walked towards the door with a sexy swing of her hips, pausing to glare at me. I glared back, rival to rival.
Tony waited for the door to close. Then he stood, straightened his waistcoat and walked over to greet me. “Well,” he grinned, “look what the cat’s dragged in.” He made a move to place a hand on my behind, but I moved away from him. “Still playing hard to get, eh?” he smiled. “But I can see it in your eyes, see it in the pout on your lips, see it in the way you stand, you still want me.”
He spoke the truth, I did want him. As husband and wife we were no good for each other, but as lovers we were terrific. But after the sex, then what? He’d become a bastard, I’d become a bitch and it would all fall apart. But at that moment I did want him. I wasn’t in a relationship, I wasn’t getting regular sex and I longed to feel a man inside me. My mind flicked through the days and nights of passion Tony and I had shared and I felt a tingle in my breasts and my clitoris. He must have sensed this because he reached for me again and I had to summon up all my willpower to resist.
“I’ve missed you,” he moaned plaintively, “I need you.”
I scoffed, “And what about Celeste?”
Tony grinned, “Maybe I can take the two of you together.”
I laughed, “In your dreams, sunshine, in your dreams; you shot your last load into me three years ago.”
Tony examined his neatly manicured fingernails. He adjusted his waistcoat. Then he glanced over to me and smiled. No matter what I said, my words always seemed to amuse him. “We were so good together. I made you scream with delight. I took you to heights no man has taken you to before or since.”
“Are you sure of that?” I mocked, my hand on my hip.
“Don’t tell me you’ve got a lover.” He sounded shocked, hurt, though I knew from experience that this was Tony putting on an act.
In turn, I smiled enigmatically. Keep the bastard guessing was my motto.
“So,” he shrugged, returning to his desk, conceding that he wasn’t going to lay me across the polished oak of that desk and have his way with me today, “if you didn’t come here for sex, what did you come here for?”
“I’m looking for a teenage girl, eighteen-year-old Emma McManners; she was a regular at your club.”
While rolling a gold pen between his fingers, it was Tony’s turn to offer up an enigmatic smile.
“Do you know her?” I asked.
“Maybe,” he replied defensively, “maybe not.”
“Come on!” I said, leaning forward, placing a hand on his desk. “This girl might be in danger; I need to find her.”
“Come across for me,” Tony grinned, his fingers caressing the pen while his eyes feasted on the deep scoop of my blouse and the deep valley of my breasts, “and I might be able to help.”
“We’ve just been there,” I sighed, standing upright, straightening my blouse, “and I told you, you had me for the last time three years ago.”
Tony put his feet up on his desk, flashing his highly polished black leather shoes. He placed his hands behind his head and appraised me with a sensual look in his dark, smouldering eyes. “If I can’t have you, I guess I’ll have to make do with the film version.”
I frowned. “What film version?”
He grinned, revealing his even, white teeth. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”
I had forgotten, though now it was all coming back to me. About a year into our marriage Tony had suggested that he should film us, having sex. I was up for it and agreed; after all, the film was just for us. He set up the cameras and we rolled into action. Occasionally, we’d watch the film to get us in the mood, but with arguments replacing sex the film had been consigned to history, or so I thought.
“Tony, I thought you destroyed the film when we divorced.”
“The film captured us at our best, making love. How could I destroy something so beautiful?”
His tone was reasonable, his expression equitable – as though he was doing me a favour by keeping the film. Like heck he was. Tony liked to show big and flash the cash, but I knew that he was in debt to some big players. I wouldn’t put it past him to offer the film as part of a repayment and I had no wish for that to happen. I had to get hold of that film and destroy it.
I left the Ace of Hearts feeling frustrated and annoyed, frustrated because I was no nearer to locating Emma McManners and annoyed because Tony still had a film that could cause me embarrassment. I returned to the Alfa Romeo, tapped the steering wheel and lapsed into deep thought. After five minutes I came up with a plan of action: I would return to the nightclub tomorrow, during the day when Tony wasn’t around; hopefully, a member of staff could offer me a lead on Emma. In the meantime I’d nose around Tony’s apartment – I still had a key; he allowed me to keep it in the hope that I might roll up and roll into his bed one day. If the film of us having sex was there, I’d find it.
Tony lived on the eighth floor of a plush apartment overlooking the bay. I parked a few streets away and on my way up in the lift I thought about a likely hiding place for the film and decided that the bedroom would be my best bet. I let myself in, produced a small torch from my shoulder bag and set foot across the deep shag pile of the bedroom carpet. I flashed the torch around and noticed a king-sized bed, neatly made, a wide-screen television pinned to the wall and a mahogany chest of drawers. I walked over to the drawers.
In the top drawer I found a stash of erotic magazines displaying models, handsome men and women, in various acts of sexual congress. The pictures were explicit and I found my torch lingering over them. Then I reminded myself why I was there, to find the film, and moved on to the second drawer.
Under Tony’s boxer shorts in the second drawer I found two films, DVDs encased in plastic. They were untitled, so I removed film number one from its case and slipped it into the DVD player. My torch highlighted the television remote control and I switched the TV on.
The DVD whirled and an image flashed on the screen. It was Tony, naked, with an equally naked woman in his arms – Emma. I recognised her from a photograph supplied by her father. So, Tony not only knew Emma, he knew her intimately. I removed the DVD from the machine and dropped it in my shoulder bag. Then I inserted the second DVD.
In glorious HD a hunk of a man and a finely-boned twenty-something woman appeared on the TV. They were naked and they were making love. The image held me spellbound for a moment and I found my hands cupping my breasts and, through the cotton of my blouse and the lace of my bra, teasing my nipples. It’s a simple fact of nature that I need to come every day and with no man to warm my bed I’d gotten used to using my dildo and my fingers. Now, reclining on Tony’s bed I found my right hand loosening my skirt and sliding into my knickers. With my eyes fixed on the television screen I ran a finger over my clitoris. The light, sensual touch made me moan with desire and soon my fingers were moving faster, responding to the couple on the screen. He was taking her from behind while she stood with her back arched, her hands resting against the wall. I felt my back arch as I responded to the delight offered by my fingers. After three barren years, I was about to come in Tony’s bed and that thought heightened my pleasure. I slipped a finger into my vagina and groaned.
“Fuck me! Fuck me!” the woman on the screen moaned and the hunk responded with erotic, athletic movements. I wasn’t sure which one of us was gonna come first, though I sensed it would be the woman.
As she sighed into climax I felt a wave of pleasure. I was close, close to my own orgasm. I inserted a second finger into my vagina. I was so wet now, so hot, gasping with each finger movement, groaning as the waves rolled in, but not yet over me.
“I’m coming!” the man on the screen groaned.
Me too, I thought. He grunted and shot his load into the smiling woman while I reached my apex. I was about to enjoy the release, drown in the rolling waves of an intense orgasm when I heard the front door of the apartment open.
Fuck, I thought, I’m nearly there, I’ve gotta come. But if Tony should see me like this…
I reached for the remote and switched off the TV. My knickers were around my ankles, so I pulled them off and stuffed them into my shoulder bag. The DVD would have to stay in the machine; I had no time to remove it. Then I dived into a cupboard, gasping through my exertions and the fact that I was still on the verge of orgasm.
Tony’s dark voice and the sound of Celeste’s giggling entered the room before they did. I’d anticipated that he’d have stayed in the nightclub until the early hours, but obviously his desire had got the better of him. Through the slats of the louvered doors I could see Tony and Celeste kissing. He had his hands under her dress, caressing the cheeks of her arse, while she had her arms around his neck. They fell on to the bed with a groan. In the cupboard I held my breath while my clit throbbed furiously. He was going to take her in front of me and there was nothing I could do about it. Of course, I was tempted to make it into a threesome, but Tony’s involvement with Emma compromised my position; at some point, I was going to have to ask him some awkward questions. Tony and I had to keep our sexual distance, maybe forever, and whatever happened I could not let him discover me hiding in his apartment. While he removed Celeste’s panties there was nothing I could do but remain silent and that meant I couldn’t touch my clit because when I came I made a lot of noise.
Tony and Celeste were on the bed. They were both naked. The hot passion of their kisses and the warmth of Celeste’s body soon had Tony erect. In truth, Tony didn’t have a large penis, but what he lacked in length he made up for in girth; I’m petite down there and whenever he entered me I feared that I’d be too tight. But he opened me every time and as Celeste writhed against his hirsute body I sensed that he was about to open her.
And then he surprised me and Celeste. He rolled off her slim body and reached under a pillow, producing a DVD case.
“I’ve got something for you,” he informed Celeste with a huge grin on his face.
As Tony walked over to the DVD player I noticed that Celeste was keeping her pleasure going by circling her nipples with her left hand while her right hand caressed her clit. In the wardrobe I closed my eyes and imagined Celeste’s fingers on my clitoris. I buckled at the knees at the thought and had to hang on to one of Tony’s suits to prevent myself from tumbling out of the cupboard.
Tony switched the DVD player on. He frowned as he noticed the disc I’d left in the machine. Would he become suspicious? Would he sense that I was there, hiding in his bedroom? With a shrug, he removed the disc and replaced it with the DVD taken from under his pillow. Then he returned to the bed and Celeste’s eager arms.
“Look at this,” Tony said, pointing the remote control at the DVD and wall-mounted TV screen.
Celeste followed Tony’s gaze. She placed a hand to her mouth and giggled when a naked, slightly younger version of Tony appeared on the screen. “It’s you!” she exclaimed. Then, “And Fay!” when I appeared in shot. I was naked too, looking four years younger. In those days my hair was longer, curling beyond my shoulders, while my bush was thicker – now I like to keep it neat and trim. On the screen Tony embraced me and we fell on to the bed. He kissed me on my lips and behind my ears, then his tongue ran down my neck to my breasts. On the bed, Tony offered Celeste the same delights and she moaned, presenting her erect nipples to Tony’s tongue. On the screen I moaned too as Tony sucked then gently bit my nipples. In the cupboard I bit my bottom lip as my clit continued to pulse.
Tony went down between Celeste’s open thighs. She had her head on the pillow, though her eyes were open and she was watching the screen. I noted that Tony was watching the screen too and, indeed, he was taking his cue from the way he pleasured me.
“I want you inside me,” Celeste moaned. In the cupboard, I could have echoed her words but, again, I bit my lip.
I glanced at the screen; I was in no hurry, I wanted more of Tony’s tongue and, as I whimpered with each lick, he readily obliged. Only when I lifted Tony’s head away from my clit, turned him on to his back and straddled him, did he yield to Celeste’s demands. We were both riding Tony now, my behind filling the screen while Celeste’s behind filled my view. Tony’s skilful editing moved the camera on to my face and my eyes, which were half-closed, enjoying the bliss of the moment, then on to my breasts, which, then as now, were very firm, my large nipples standing proud of my dark areolae. Tony cupped my breasts on the screen and I moaned. Then he cupped Celeste’s breasts – smaller than mine, but beautifully formed – and she shuddered with pleasure.
On the screen Tony patted my behind and we changed position. I kneeled on the bed, placed a pillow under my breasts and offered up my behind. This is my favourite position because I like to feel my partner’s pubic bone slap against my behind. Also, this position allows my partner to get a little deeper into my vagina and offer me that extra tingle of pleasure as a result.
On the screen Tony entered me and we both moaned. On the bed Celeste had taken up a similar position, though without the pillow for support. As Tony gripped Celeste’s behind the pair of them stared at the screen, still taking their cue from my movements. I suppose I should have been flattered because I was obviously contributing to their pleasure, but in the cupboard my throbbing clit was starting to ache and I felt in danger of passing out.
While my fingers gripped the duvet, my red fingernails digging into the fabric, my arse wriggled for all it was worth. I could tell from the blissed-out look on my face, the crimson spreading across my breasts and neck and my deep, throaty groans that I was gonna come. Celeste had reached her release point too. On the bed, she collapsed into the duvet so that Tony was now horizontal on top of her. She reached for his behind, to pull him even closer, even tighter into her, then she cried out in orgasm, her pretty face reaching even greater levels of beauty as wave after wave washed over her.
“I’m coming!” I cried on the screen, my arms gripping the pillow as Tony maintained a regular rhythm, taking me over the edge. I was still in the throes of climax when Tony slowed his movements. He grunted, tensed, then, simultaneously, he shot his load into me on the screen and Celeste on the bed.
Fuck! I thought in the cupboard, I’ve gotta come. I was so hot, so wet that my honey was running over my inner thighs.
On the screen and on the bed we kissed and caressed and drifted into a post-orgasmic longueur. Eventually the screen went dark and the bedroom became quiet in the grey light of night. I sensed that Tony and Celeste were asleep and my thoughts turned to escape and the prospect of emotional and sexual relief.
When I was certain that they were asleep, I eased myself out of the cupboard and tip-toed across the soft, shag pile carpet. I released the DVD from the machine, glancing over my shoulder when the device screeched and Tony stirred, only to return to his sleep. Silently, I dropped the DVD into my shoulder bag, on top of my knickers, then I eased myself out of Tony’s apartment, breathing a huge sigh of relief. I had the DVD and I knew that Tony and Emma were involved in some way; all I needed now was sexual release and I could consider it a good night’s work.
I was swinging my shoulder bag playfully as I stood in the corridor outside Tony’s apartment, waiting for the lift to arrive. If the lift was empty I resolved to bring myself to climax before I reached the ground floor – I was so horny, I couldn’t wait any longer. However, the lift was not empty. Instead, I saw the most handsome man I’d ever seen in my life. He had a firm, square jaw, an easy smile and dark, sensual eyes. His hair was also dark and neatly trimmed, though ever so slightly dishevelled. His body was firm and muscular. He was wearing a suit and bow-tie, though the tie was open and hung casually around his neck while his jacket was hooked on the index finger of his left hand and slung over his shoulder.
The man stepped out of the lift, smiled at me, and I stepped in. I turned and we gazed at each other. What happened next was totally crazy, insane, an act of wonton abandon. Maybe he sensed that I was hot and horny – my nipples were erect and poking through my bra and blouse – or maybe the pheromones from my sex were so strong that they attracted him. Whatever the reason, when the lift was about to close he placed his foot between the door frame and door. Then he re-entered the lift. We offered each other a tentative smile. Then our lips moved closer together. Then we kissed. Our tongues danced while our hands explored each other’s bodies. I had no idea who this man was, where he came from, what he did for a living, all I knew was I wanted him. I wanted him so badly.
His hands moved to my rear and he murmured with delight as he discovered that I wasn’t wearing any knickers. My skilful fingers soon had him erect and out of his trousers and underwear. His large hands cupped my arse firmly, pulling me on to him. I gasped as I felt his erection press into my midriff. Then he lifted me into the air and I wrapped my legs around his body. He eased me down on to his erect penis and entered me. I was so wet he slipped into me with ease. I whimpered, I clawed at his hair, I kissed him passionately. I writhed against his firm body and as he thrust his hard cock deep into my soaking wet vagina, I came, releasing the tension, the frustration, the sexual desire of the evening in a tidal wave of passion. I lost sense of time, I lost sense of everything except the intense feeling of joy that emanated from my vagina and clitoris and spread to every fibre of my body. The lift had stopped – I guess he must have pressed a button at some point during our descent – and he was still holding my behind and thrusting his manhood into me.
“Come for me, baby,” I whispered into his ear. I increased the speed of my hip movements, moving in fast, tight circles. He grunted, once, twice, three times, then we both sighed as he reached his release and emptied himself into me.
We stayed like that for a while, my arms around his neck, my head on his shoulder, his hands on my behind, supporting my weight, his penis, slowly becoming flaccid still inside me. Then we kissed and giggled before separating and adjusting our clothing.
The lift stopped and I stepped into the lobby, my clit still throbbing, but this time with contentment.
“Hey,” he called out as the lift threatened to close, “what’s your name?”
“Fay, Fay Arthur. And yours?”
“Mike, Mike Vernon.” He grinned, his foot wedged between door and frame. “We must do this again sometime.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. Then the lift door did close and I stepped out into the sultry warmth of a hot summer night with the thought ‘we must do this again’.
Story Copyright © 2014 Gemma Morgan and Abigail Summer. All rights reserved.