New Short Story Released - Agent Down - A Detective Macaulay Homicide Case

[ Rated R For Violence & Scenes of a Sexual Nature]

Exclusive Extract From 

"AGENT DOWN"

LAS VEGAS, NEVADA

“Stacey, baby, that feels so good,” Stanley Tulloch said. She sucked on his balls and made them slip inside her warm slippery wet mouth. He felt like he would come if she didn't stop soon. She murmured against his vibrating flesh.

“That tickles. Stop for a minute baby.” Stacey did not stop. If anything, she became hungrier for him, and sucked the tip of his black cock hard and fast until he ejaculated into her mouth. He sucked his teeth in exasperation when he came.

“Damn, girl. You're so hot tonight. Fuck!”  Stanley pulled his long black cock out of her mouth and rolled back against the cool bed covers.

The two lay silently in the wide expanse of the hotel bed. Stacey fell asleep, her arm draped over his torso. He moved her arm.

She was incredibly soft. All over. Her skin had a sheen to it. She had a golden honey hue to her toned body. He felt his cock begin to harder as she lay with her back to him. He snorted two lines of cocaine off the nightstand next to his weapon. A Glock with a 22 caliber.

He savored the last remaining minutes with her until they would have to separate. Go back to reality. She had a fine ass. Wished he could tap it some more. He was out of time.

“I have to go, honey,” he said, and turned so his back was to her. Put on his pants. Stood and jumped into his shoes and pushed his shirt down deep inside his pants. Checked the fly was closed. He headed to the bathroom to wash up quickly.

“Same time next week, baby?” Stacey called out, and slipped the stack of dollar bills on the nightstand inside her purse underneath her pillow. She sat upright in the bed and adjusted her bra. Smoothed her hair.

“Absolutely. Wouldn't miss this for the world,” Stanley said.

In the artificial light inside the windowless compact-sized bathroom he checked his face for lipstick marks. Ran the faucet and washed his hands, face and mouth. Washed off any trace of her from his smooth dark skin. He could still taste the sweetness of her pussy juices against his lips. He rinsed his face again. Captured the memory in his fantasy rolodex. Locked that shit up tight in there.

He looked in on her before he turned the door handle to leave the hotel room. She was asleep, and lay motionless in the bed. He stepped into the hallway and closed the room door. Room 7007 at the Treasure Island Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas Boulevard. The Strip, as they call it.

He had gone to Las Vegas on a whim. He was on a case, and it had gone cold. There was little he could do to resurrect it. He chose instead to blow some cash the only way he knew how. Women. Gambling. Liquor. In that order.

Stanley Tulloch worked as a Private Detective. An-Ex NYPD Detective, he had served thirty years, retired, and had headed west to Las Vegas to start his own Detective Agency. 

Ten years later, instead of enjoying retirement, he drew a good salary. Took photographs of A-List Celebrities. Captured graphic details of cheating husbands or wives, and sold them to the Media. He was making paper, but not yet printing his own money. He ran the Agency with one broad at the helm. Ginger. Her real name was Marcy. A redhead with big breasts. 

Stanley gave people descriptive names which helped him to remember who the fuck they were. His memory was not that wonderful lately but it got him from A to B and helped him to solve his client's cases. He was professional. If he felt unable to take on a case he outsourced the detective work. Gave side jobs to younger more amiable guys. Guys hungrier than him for a collar. Some of his current confidential informants stemmed from his days with NYPD. Men who had since migrated to Las Vegas after he did. Tracked their movements and gave them payouts in exchange for tidbits of reliable information. 

One such side piece of information had led to the capture and arrest of an attempted rapist. Ted Hollinger. At that time, Ted had been married to Marcy. At his first sight of Marcy, Stanley knew he wanted to be with her forever. Fortunately for him, she had felt the same way about him. Lucky bastard.

Now he was stepping out on her. The jerk. (Read more at Smashwords.com)

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