By: J. "Butch" Raymond

A muffled shot. It came from the house I had under surveillance. I was sure of it. I knew it meant getting out of my car and going to check on things in the house. The idea didn't appeal. My colleagues call me a rodless dick. I'm a private eye but never carry a gun.

Reluctantly, I released my condom-coated cock. Yeah, I jack off. It's about the only pleasure a guy can find on long, boring stakeouts. The dude who taught me this private-eye racket also showed me how jacking off can relieve boredom, so the two of us relieved a lot of boredom together. And he showed me how rubbers keep jism from hitting windshields. Granted, it was more fun with him at my side, but it's still a great boredom fighter.

The big rubber-sheathed cock was hard to slip back into my running shorts. As I got out of the car and crossed the street, I realized that anyone watching me would notice the big bulge. Maybe they'd think it was a rod.

The small bungalow was in a low-rent district of hundreds of such houses. It was owned by a renowned film director who used it to keep his heartthrobs tucked quietly away. The director had hired me to follow the current little trollop because he sensed infidelity at play here.

Since the front of the house had been in clear view, I worked my way carefully to the back. The back door was standing open. That spelled trouble. I checked around outside, but saw no one, so I went into the house. Everything seemed quiet and in order, until I neared the bedroom. Then, I smelled acrid gun smoke.

The bedroom door was partway open. I saw a naked body on the bed. I went in. Damn. Lying there was Jason, the current boyfriend. He was a nineteen-year-old hunk. A real good looker. But right now, he had a bullet in his chest just where most people think the heart's supposed to be. I saw that his fat, long cock was erect and covered with saliva. He was still breathing as I picked up the phone and poked 911.

Waiting for the recordings to end and a real person to come on the line, I leaned over and looked at his monster cock closely. I could see a faint ring of lipstick near the base of the big thing. Suddenly, to my surprise, he grabbed me by the shoulder strap of my tank top and, with wild eyes, said through gurgling noises, 'He got me.' Yep, just like in the movies.

'Who? Who done it?' I asked, trying to make contact with those wild eyes, my lips close enough to his thick, rounded, pouty lips to kiss.

'It... It was...' he started to say, when all of a sudden a voice came on the line asking what type of emergency it was.

'A man's been shot. It's bad. Get over to 1915 Longworth Road. His name is Jason Poole. And hurry.' They wanted my name and phone number, and asked me to stay on the line till they arrived. They also insisted on knowing if the situation was still dangerous. I said how the hell should I know.

The exchange of information seemed to take only seconds, but when I turned my attention back to Jason, I discovered he'd passed out. It was a struggle to release his grip on my shirt. Then I patted his face trying to revive him, but he was out cold, and his dick had shriveled.

* * * * *

'Good thing you called when you did, Butch,' Detective Will Boyer was saying. 'Saved his life. Did he talk?'

A squad car had shown up first. Then people from all over closed in and the whole thing had become a three-ring circus. But the techno-medics were good at their job and Jason was whisked out of there in a flash already hooked up to all kinds of gadgets and gear. In the meantime, I had tried to get my employer, the director, on the phone, expecting to talk to his handsome private secretary, Harvey, whom the director had extolled as his right hand man, but instead I got an answering machine telling me everyone was out. That was strange. To me, it looked bad for the director.

'He tried to talk, but he passed out before he could tell me anything of any use.'

'Well, what did he say?' Will wanted to know.

'He said, 'He got me.' That was all.'

'Guess that leaves out all the babes in town,' the detective said with a grin.

'I don't know, Will. I thought I saw some lipstick on his long Schlong?'

'Don't you mean his weenie?'

'It was a full-sized schlong when I first saw it, Will. The boy'd been aroused and it looked to me like someone'd been sucking on it.'

'Oh?' He grinned. 'Wasn't you, was it, Butch?'

'Com'on. You know I'm not gonna fuck around with a client's boyfriend.'

Looking serious, he said, 'Better come downtown with me, Butch, and give us the full story. Who you're working for; what you've found out; that sort of shit. Got any other clothes or do you always work half naked?'

'I prefer completely naked.' I smiled. Will and I went way back. Naked with him was good. He was a big man and had a humungus cock with a honed instinct for finding the right hole. We'd made it from time to time, till we took different paths and I became a private dick.

His tanned face turned a darker hue, but he smiled, saying, 'So do I,' in a soft whisper. It was the first time in a long time he intimated we'd been intimate. My shorts began to tent. He was a trained detective. He didn't miss a thing, especially if the thing was a thing.

* * * * *

'Jesus! You've been workin' out, Butch,' Will said in hushed tones of inspired awe as I stripped off my clothes in front of him. He'd followed me home, ostensibly for me to grab more suitable clothes for a downtown investigation and had come into the bedroom with me while I changed. 'And still working the rubber, I see.' He chuckled. With all the excitement, I'd forgotten I still had a rubber covering my cock. We both knew what the condom was used for. I thought it might have dropped off, but it clung to my ample endowment. Nothing like Will's horsecock, but ample, nonetheless.

My face flushed, but I laughed. 'Yeah, working the rubber. A guy's gotta keep in shape. Keep everything going.' I tugged at the reservoir tip thinking the condom would simply pull off. Instead, it stretched my cock, elongating it, failing to release it. Will sat down on the bed, a couple of feet from me, and watched what I was doing with fascination. I kept tugging.

'Should use the lubricated kind,' he whispered instructively, staring at my action.

'Naw, not in the car. Gets too much goo on your hands.' I responded absently, looking down and watching the struggle between my cock and that condom.

He chuckled. I looked over at him. He was rubbing the front of his pants as he stared at my crotch. 'Wha'cha thinking?' I asked.

'I'm thinkin' you've grown a lot since...' he trailed off.

The reason the condom was being so difficult was becoming clearer and clearer. Standing naked in front of this sexy guy was getting to me and my dick was going on the bone. Getting bigger and bigger. If I didn't turn now to screen it from view, he'd be certain I was getting turned on. But, as I felt my balls lifting in their big sac, I just kept tugging at the rubber. It was fun. It was getting me hot. Suddenly, as my cock got longer and longer, the rubber gave way and with a loud snap hit against my fist which, released from the tension, flew upwards. My cock swung down, bounced against my balls, and surged upwards again, continuing its rise, and sort of waved erotically at Will who couldn't take his eyes away.

'I think I'd better give you a body search,' he sighed huskily, 'com' over here.' He was unzipping his pants as he talked.

My cock was pointed straight out at him as I closed the gap. He lowered his body to position his mouth on the same level as my long tube and I simply walked it right into him. He took it with the same talented ease I remembered and instantly began terrific suction, moaning with satisfaction. His big hands slid around and up my thighs and dug into my muscular buttocks. It all felt great! He went to work. I was pulled in as close as possible by his strong arms and rough hands. His forehead was slapping at my abdomen and my balls were slapping at his chin in a rhythm guaranteed to raise me to a quick release. He was relentless. I watched, looking down my body at my cock appearing and reappearing as he took it to the bone. Deep-throating. Grabbing my ass. Hard. I couldn't have held back if I'd wanted to. He swallowed while I was in deep and the pressures sucked cum right out of me. I blasted off. It was the best orgasm I'd had in weeks. I pumped out a downpour. He drank it all down.

'Fuckin' great!' he sighed as I pulled away. I saw his gigantic cock in his paw. It was fiery red and wet with pre-cum. 'Tasted like latex when it first went in, but you've always had tasty jizz, man.'

'You do it good, Will,' I told him. 'I shot in a hurry.'

'Still feel like fuckin' around, or does one pop finish you off?' he asked, looking like he expected to be disappointed.

'Fuckin' around sounds good to me,' I replied.

'Got any lubed condoms, or are all of yours dry?'

'Fully lubed, reservoir-tipped, king-sized, and ready-to-wear,' I answered, pulling out a large box of a popular brand.

He stood up, stripping off his shirt and dropping his pants while I opened the foil wrap. It felt good again to see him aroused and anxious to take me. I knelt at his feet, removed his shoes, socks, and pants, and looked up. The enormous cock towered over me above massive balls. What a fuckin' sight! I leaned in and nuzzled his nuts, flicking my tongue out at them. The taste was prime, California cop! I love it! The balls wriggled in the hairy sac and the huge organ vibrated with lust, oozing viscous liquid. I reached up and put the rubber atop the cockhead, then began slowly unrolling it down the length of that great cock. It was a tight fit. A very tight fit, even though the condom was the largest sold in the world.

'I like the feel of a tight rubber on my dick, man,' he sighed, 'and I like the feel of your hands on my meat, Butch.'

I toyed with it longer than necessary just because we both liked it so much. 'Come here,' he whispered as he bent down and raised me to my feet, turning me around in the process. I'd had the foresight to apply a little extra lube to myself, not depending on the condom's lube to do the trick, and felt grateful I'd done it because he wanted in in a hurry.

'Oh, shit! You're just as tight and as hot as I remember,' he sighed as the giant cockhead forced me open. Slowly, relentlessly, he drove cock into me, not pausing to take a breath. It was wonderful! I needed a good fuck. It'd been too long. And I got fucked by my cop, my lover. Good and fucked. And good and long. He took his time but we just stayed in the same standing position, him humping away, and me working every muscle I controlled to make this a great fuck for both of us. I could see us in the wall mirror. It was a terrific sight. But mostly I just kept working my ass for our pleasure. Finally, I reached out for another condom.

'Think I'm wearin' this one out?' he asked in a far off voice, enraptured by the pleasures of the fuck.

'No, I'm gonna slip one on. This has me so hot, I'm gonna shoot another load and I don't want it all over the fuckin' rug.'

'Why don't you hold off and shoot up my ass?' he whispered.

'I was hopin' you'd ask,' I answered. 'I know you used to like mine in you.' I slipped the condom on. It fit well. Not quite so tightly as Will's fit his big meat, but tightly enough to require the largest size condom.

'Geez, remembering how it felt in my ass is putting me over the top. God, I'm gonna cum!' And he thrust home so hard it rocked me from head to toe, lifting my body off the floor, and I felt his pulsating blasts filling the reservoir. I got jarred good as he emptied his load.

With little fanfare, he grabbed the base of his dick, holding the rubber, and pulled out. Not only was the reservoir filled, but the entire condom was almost fully colored with the white fluid. He'd shot a giant load!

He turned and rested his hands on the bed, sticking out his big, muscular ass at me. Nothing was said. I just aimed for home and moved in. It was great! He had terrific control of muscles and tissues, and knew just when to parry to my thrusts, and when to grind to my bumps, and we were fucking together like mindless randy teenagers in no time. This felt so good it made up for all those long hours of hand-relief I'd been having lately.

Rapid, shuddering strokes rocked him. I was as tall as he was, but not as bulky, so we fit together good and I pumped into him, slamming my abdomen and hips against his fleshy, hot buns as I drove my cock in all the way, to the hilt. Causing him to groan with satisfaction. He was getting what he wanted. What he remembered. And he liked it!

So did I. So much so, in fact, that holding back was a problem. I wanted this fuck to last and last, but, damn, he was so tight. His heat felt so good. His control felt so sensuous. Each long thrust felt so spectacular. I had to give up my load. I thrust into him hard, froze in place, and came. Grunting with each cum shot. It was terrific!

We uncoupled and went into the bathroom together. I slipped off the condom and put it on the sink counter. He placed his next to mine. The thought of picking it up later and smelling it as I jacked off in front of the mirror brought a smile to my face. He read my mind and grinned as we washed off our long cocks together at the sink.

'That was great, Butch. Thanks,' he said softly as we were getting dressed.

'I'm happy you came,' I said with a warm smile. He grinned.

* * * * *

Everything went fairly routinely as I told my simple story to a couple detectives. Until I mentioned the director's name. Then, all hell broke loose. First a lieutenant questioned me, and then the Captain, himself, came in looking pissed. They didn't want to believe me but they all knew that I had become the principal private dick to the rich, Hollywood gay set because of my discreet handling of a series of delicate cases where well known names could have been sullied but were not. It's the kind of reputation for discretion and results that sells in places like Hollywood and the cops knew it. In fact, were happy it was available because, by law, they simply were not able to act as discreetly.

'I'd like to lock you up, Goddamn it, Butch,' the Captain snarled, 'but everyone knows you're gutless and don't carry a fuckin' gun. So, I'm puttin' my money on your innocence. But I'll tell you one thing, you'd better find the fuckin' shooter before Jason wakes up from surgery and gives us the name of your director, or this'll get messy for all of us.'

While the whole country loves a scandal nowadays, no one in Hollywood does. It ruins careers, is bad for business, and gets everyone even marginally involved pissed off. The Captain was giving me a short time limit to cover all our asses. He knew I had the right contacts with inside connections to ferret out the would-be killer better than his own detectives did. Too few of them were gay. Or so he believed. (I knew better.) But most Hollywood gays shared his belief. Cop equals trouble. Sex doesn't enter into it. Don't get friendly.

I got my ass out of there quick. I drove directly to the director's classy mansion. I'd been given the combination for the gate so I got onto the property and drove to the front door. I rang the bell and expected Harvey, the butler/valet/personal-assistant/confidant to Mr. Rich-and-Famous to open the door, but no one came. That was strange.

I slowly walked around the large, long terrace and came to the stairs leading down to the pool and cabañas. Down there, on a chaise, was a knockout. A real beauty! A breath-taker! Perfect California tan; long legs; tiny bikini; golden locks. A stunner!

I went down the stairs and cleared my throat.

The stunner's eyes opened and looked up at me. Two pools of violet took my breath away. A lithe hand was raised to shield those eyes from the sun and a questioning gaze met my gawking stare.

What a beauty! I thought to myself. 'Where's the boss?' I asked aloud.

'Haven't seen him,' was the soft-spoken reply.

'Who are you?' I pressed.

'Well, who are you?' was the assertive response.

'I'm Butch, his private dick.'

'Yes, you look butch,' was the purring retort.

'Com'on, who the hell are you?' I grunted, acting tough.

'I'm his...' a pause, '...his boyfriend.'

I guess I looked surprised.

He grinned. 'Name's Todd. Anything wrong, Dick?' he asked with a note of sarcasm in his voice.

'Butch,' I corrected.

'Oh, yes. Butch.' He gave me a come-on grin. White teeth gleamed. He was sure a looker. I felt an extension growing in my pants as I took in his magnificent body. I couldn't help it. He was stretched out before me, sculpted body oiled for the sun, shining in all its glory, the scant bikini over-filled with bulging delights. The kind of body to use as a centerfold in my mind the next time I jack off.

He lifted his hips and thrust up his barely covered crotch, spreading his legs lasciviously. He put a hand to his powerful chest, rubbed a pec sensuously while inhaling deeply, and squeezed a hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger. His inadequate covering became even less adequate, unable to cover an expanding meat. He was becoming turned on as he looked up at me, standing there panting, with my tongue hanging out, like a dog in heat. He was something else. A wet-dream come to life. A porno-star stepped off the screen. I was erect in no time.

'I see ya like what ya see,' he sighed, writhing on the chaise like a cheap harlot, offering himself to me. A stranger. A private dick. It made me very suspicious all of a sudden. Why the come on? I wondered. I looked around. Over on an umbrella-covered table, I saw a large handbag, a cap, sunglasses and gloves. On the chair next to the table he'd thrown a dark-colored jumpsuit. Next to the chair was a pair of dark running shoes. They were mud-covered.

As he watched me looking over at the clothes, he slowly rose from the chaise. Standing on the far side, away from me, he struck a pose. It was glorious. Big, I mean big, bulge. Statuesque body. Broad shoulders, narrow hips. And as handsome a face as I've ever seen. But he was acting like a slut.

He turned. The bikini's back was a string across the top of his muscular, rounded, high, magnificent buttocks, and a string running down between those two perfect buns. He knew the impact the sight of that fine ass had on me, as he smiled back seductively over his shoulder.

'Want some?' he hissed, softly, running a hand down from his waist and over one of those classic cheeks. Then he slowly walked away from me.

Suddenly, it hit me. He was heading towards that table. Towards that large handbag. Towards a gun? I wondered. I lunged, striking the chaise with my shin noisily. He bolted for the table. I tackled him with a flying, horizontal leap through the space separating us. My arms encircled greasy thighs up near his crotch and we went crashing to the deck.

He had managed to reach the handbag and was digging for something. My nose was momentarily poked into that beautiful ass-cleft, but duty called and I struggled to climb up his slippery body and capture whatever he was fishing for in that bag. I saw a flash of silver and grabbed.

The gun went off! It scared the shit out of me, but I kept struggling and wrestled it out of his hands.

'Lie still, Fucker!' I commanded, shoving the gun nozzle against his neck. He calmed down immediately, sobbing, 'Don't kill me! Don't kill me!'

'Shaddup!' I snarled.

He sobbed. I let him get it out of his system, holding him down with the weight of my body.

When he calmed down, I asked him, 'Why go for the gun?'

'I thought you were here to kill me,' he said, gasping for breath.

'Why would I want to kill you?' I asked.

'I heard that Jason was shot,' he replied.

'How'd you hear that?'

'It's been on the radio.'

Oh, shit! I thought. 'So why would I want to kill you?' I asked.

The boss said someone killed Bruno in New York,' he said.


'Bruno was his last lover, before Jason and then me. When I heard Jason'd been shot, I figured I'd be next. I'm scared.' And he started sobbing again.

'That don't mean you should be pullin' guns on people,' I told him.

'I'm sorry. I only meant to scare you off.'

'Scare me off? Bullshit! You pulled the fuckin' trigger, you goddam shit.' I was pissed.

'It was an accident, please believe me. I only wanted to be safe.' He sounded sincere enough.

'Why are your shoes muddy?' I asked.

'The boss asked me to plant some flowers. Let me up and I'll show you where I dug up the soil and planted them. Com'on, I'm not lying. I'm not a killer. I only wanted to protect myself.'

'And the gloves?'

'Gardening gloves, I swear. I don't like dirt under my nails, and neither does the boss.' He was becoming more assertive as he realized I was buying his story. But questioning him while lying on his naked ass was very pleasant and I had no intention of letting him up till I was satisfied.

'Who done it?' I demanded. Hell, maybe he knew.

'The boss thinks it was a woman,' Todd said breathlessly.

'A woman!' I exclaimed, surprised as hell. 'What the fuck gives him that idea?' I didn't mention Jason's remark about a 'he' doing it.

'He said he thought a woman's been following him for a couple of days.'

Fuck! I thought. Why do clients hold out on this kind of info? I wondered. Aloud, I asked, 'What's her name. What does she look like?'

'Don't know her name. He only said she's a big redhead.'

'A redhead,' I mused. Hadn't I seen a redhead in a new car drive past Jason's house as I played with my dick? Yeah. I was sure of it. And not too long before the shooting.

'Look, Butch,' he said softly, 'please let me up. It's starting to hurt.'

'What's starting to hurt?'

'My erection's getting scraped by the concrete,' he admitted.

'Hmmm. Well, turn over, slowly, and let me check it out.' I wanted to be sure it wasn't another trick. I didn't trust him any further than I could throw this goddam mansion.

He twisted as I raised myself a bit. I felt a large rod poke against me as he got onto his back. I looked down. Christ! What a big one! After seeing only two of the director's conquests, I knew he was a certifiable size-queen. With a penchant for picking penile perfection.

I settled down against the big meat. It felt terrific pressed against me. Our faces where close. Those violet eyes penetrated into my brain. My own erection throbbed. Those thick lips were moistened by a darting tongue. My tongue! He puckered up. I pressed downward. We kissed. It was heavenly! We kissed and kissed, frenching all the way.

Gasping for air, he said, 'I don't know why you've got me so hot, but I want to make love to you. Right here. Right now.'

'Yeah,' I agreed. I knew why. It was a reaction to the realization that he was alive, safe, and in the hands of a man who, like himself, loved men. Who'd treat him right. It was the knowledge that he wasn't dead. It's a very strong emotion. An aphrodisiac.

Me? I was just horny. The day's excitement was my aphrodisiac.

'Got some protection?' I asked.

'You'll protect me, won't you, Butch?' he sighed, like a teenaged romantic.

'Yeah, sure,' I replied sarcastically, 'but meantime, got a rubber?'

'Oh! I thought you meant... Sure, in my bag.' He reached in. I was ready for anything. He pulled out a big box of my brand of condoms. Triple XXX-Large. The right size for both of us.

I grabbed two, got up to a kneeling position straddling his thighs, and opened a foil. As I did, I looked down. What a sight! His mammoth cock lay against his muscular belly up past his navel. His balls were still enclosed in the small bikini but were fully outlined and very large. I grabbed the bikini and pulled it down. I watched his cock swell in response. I grabbed it, planning to dress it in rubber, but the feel of it in my hand was marvelous. It was responsive, hard as iron, and hot, hot, hot! I gave it a few pumps as I leaned down to take a closer look. What a cock!

Suddenly, I looked up. He had moved his hand and it scared me.

It'd be dumb to let a big cock get me killed, I reasoned. But his hand came out of his bag holding a giant-economy-sized tube of KY.

'Thought we might need this,' he said with a sexy smile. 'It's a big one, isn't it.' He meant his cock, not the KY tube. It was a statement, not a boast. He knew what he had. It didn't require explanation. World-class cocks never do.

'Yeah, but give me that purse, man. If ya need somethin' out of it, let me know.' I threw the bag down by my feet. This was too much. I had to hold the gun, and his 'gun,' and deal with the condom, and worry about the bag and about his movements. And, shit, it was too much.

'Let's go somewhere else. I don't like being out in the open with you if there's a killer lurking around,' I told him.

His eyes got very big. His expression told me he was scared just by the thought of it. It also told me, once and for all, that he wasn't the killer.

'We could go into my cabaña.'

'Okay. But don't make any sudden moves. I'm nervous. I don't like guns. So take it real slow and easy.'

We got up. I realized the concrete had been hard on my knees. His whole body must have felt it. He walked slowly in front of me and I quietly removed the clip from the gun. And the bullet from the chamber.

Inside the fancy little cabaña, which was almost the size of Jason's whole house, I was led to a large bedroom. It was something out of a Valentino movie, with draperies and cushions and mirrors and oriental rugs - a real fuck-pit - everything except those two boys who stand in those movies with those fanned feathers on poles wafting them at you to keep you cool. But we didn't want to keep cool. Todd had let his little bikini fall off as we walked, and now he was on his knees in front of me, helping me strip to the buff. As he unveiled my little soldier his eyes grew wide.

'Man,' he said, huskily, 'it's as big as mine!' He was impressed, and surprised. And delighted. He grabbed me and we rolled around together on those comfortable rugs, trying to choke each other with our tongues.

'Lemme suck it,' he cried and went down on me. It felt great. He twisted around and suddenly I found myself with a big cockhead pointing me in the face. It looked great. I didn't hesitate. I sucked it in and we enjoyed a terrific sixty-nine. He was good and so was I. Suddenly, he pulled back, coming off my cock.

'I want this in me, man,' he said panting with lust. 'It's been too fucking long since I've even seen a decent sized cock. I want it in me, man.'

So much for the director's size, I deduced, he likes 'em big but isn't himself.

Reluctantly, I let the big cock in my throat slip out. It was really suckable, and I was enjoying it. But he wanted some service, and I was going to give it to him. I peeled down the condom over my wet cock, opened the lube and took a dab, and aimed my finger at his ass and lubed him. He spread his legs wide for me.

'Oooh! Do it!' he sighed, and I slid right in. Now, I've been to Carlsbad Caverns, and I ain't sayin' he's that big, but I think Will and I and two of our cousins could have shoved our cocks up there simultaneously. You meet men like this, sometimes. It's like they've been fucked so often all the elastic's run out of their body cells.

But he looked great, and felt good, with his calves up on my shoulders, so I started to hump away, hoping my disappointment wouldn't interfere with our enjoyment. But then something inside him clamped down on my meat like a vice-grip. All of a sudden, he rotated his hips, drew in his stomach, tightened his muscles, and massaged the shit out of my cock, causing my expression to change to amazement. This kid could fuck! Was trained to fuck! And we started banging into one another, jarring his balls, snapping mine against his ass, and really fucked. I mean fucked! Like champs! And the sight of his angelic face, his handsome build, and manly features helped put me over the top and I came. And came. And came!

'Sit on this,' he said excitedly, wagging the big weapon at me. I knew he was close to orgasm, himself. I rolled a condom onto the huge shaft and sank down upon it. It was like punching myself in the stomach. I can handle big ones, but this one was immense. Much thicker across than most. It really filled me up. I gave him what he wanted, rising up and sliding down that great pole as I worked every muscle I could to make it memorable.

'Gee, this feel's great, Butch,' he sighed. 'An ass with some animation, for a change.' His asides didn't flatter his boss.

We stayed that way for a while, but he got more and more excited. Then, he reached up, pulled me down, rolled us over, and decided to give me the fucking of my life. He grunted and groaned, pumped and humped, banged and bumped, and fucked me six ways to Sunday. It was heavenly. But at this pace, it couldn't last much longer. His eyes crossed, then closed; his entire body stiffened; and with sobs and grunts, he spurted out his enjoyment. Spurt after spurt. It was wonderful!

Afterwards, having cleaned up and dressed, as I got ready to leave, I asked, 'Anything else you know that might help me?'

'I don't know if it'll do any good, but last night I overheard someone mention a club. Club Tantalize. On the Strip. It might mean nothing...' he trailed off.

'Hell, it's a start. Thanks.'

'Can I have my gun back?' he asked calmly.

'It's on the sink in the bathroom. The bullets are in one of the cabinet drawers. But do me a favor, will ya?'

'What's that?'

'Leave that fuckin' thing where it is. You're gonna kill someone with it and then regret it 'cause it'll be the wrong guy. Lock yourself in here till I get back. Talk to no one. That way you'll be safe.'

'You're coming back to me?' he asked all innocent and excited like. It's like it was the only thing he had heard. What a slut.

* * * *

I hate the Strip. Parking's a bitch. Crowds annoy me. Pretty boys distract me. Everything's so laid-back fucking phony. But I found my way into Club Tantalize, a rundown sleaze operation if I ever saw one. Dark. Much too dark. And smokier than L.A. on a bad day.

I stumbled to the bar and ordered a seltzer. The large bartender scowled but returned with my drink and a bill for four gallons of the stuff. I paid right up and left a quarter for a tip. I figured a quarter was the right tip for a drink of water.

As my eyes became accustomed to the dark, I noticed the place had more women in it than men. And most of the women looked like they were in show business. Like they were all made up for the stage. Then a spotlight hit the small stage and an entertainer started to sing and the whole thing fell into place. I should have known. It was a transvestite joint.

I looked around. No redheads. I decided to mosey around, heading towards the toilets to see what I could find. No one seemed to pay any attention to me, so passing the can I opened one dressing room door after another until - there she was! The big redhead! When she spotted me, she bolted for a back door.

Twice in one day I made a flying, horizontal tackle. And me, I'm no football player. But I got her good, high up, and we bounced to the floor and struggled and wrestled, and her voice got lower and lower, and her body felt stronger and stronger. And I got worried. And out of breath.

Suddenly, as I grabbed at her face, it fell off! I'm not kidding. Her whole goddam face came off in my hand. It was, well, revolting. But there was no blood. As I looked up I found I was staring into the face of one of the most popular young leading men in Hollywood. The face of the star of a string of moneymaking movies. His face was in every magazine, on all the tabloid covers. Rumor had it he was filming in Africa, or China. But here he was, on the floor with me in some dump on the Strip. With a wig falling off, and dark red lipstick on those famous heartthrob lips, and an expression of fear in his eyes.

'Christ!' I whispered.

'Oh, shit!' he groaned.

'Put your face back on, man,' I suddenly commanded, 'and let's get the fuck out of here. If I found you, there'll be a posse following at any moment.'

He hesitated.

'Move your ass, man! I ain't kidding. We're both in a lot of trouble if you're found like this.'

'You'll help me?' he asked in amazement.

'Fuckin' A! Get your ass in gear. Now!'

I helped him to his feet. It dawned on him I was going to help so he hurried. With my assistance, we put him back into order. We reapplied the clever makeup. A clean, modest dress. A demure wig. Sunglasses. A scarf. Gloves and purse. He looked like little miss prissy. How anyone could mistake him for a girl was beyond me, but I had to admit the makeup was effective. We sneaked out the back before anyone came looking for me.

* * * * *

'I don't believe it!' I told him bluntly.

'Ya gotta believe me, Butch, it's the God's honest truth.' It sounded like he was saying lines from some cheap script he'd read somewhere. I'd heard bullshit in my line of work, but the story he'd just spun, as we drove up into the hills, was a corker.

'So Jason was nude when you arrived and wanted a blowjob to keep quiet about you,' I repeated sarcastically.

'Yes! It's the truth!'

'And you, the love of every woman, and gay man, in America...'

He interrupted. 'My appeal is broader than that. I'm popular worldwide.'

Just like fuckin' actors! Egos out to here! '...Yeah, whatever. You gave Jason a blowjob.'

'It's true,' he insisted.

'And he knew who you were.'

'Yes, of course. That's why he was so insistent.'

'Well, I gotta tell ya somethin',' I admitted. He nodded. 'I examined Jason after he was shot.'

'Yes?' He was curious. I heard it in his voice. He wondered where this was leading.

'I found lipstick.'

'I told you it was me. I'm wearing lipstick.' He sounded elated to be confirming this clue.

'Well...' I said slowly, hesitantly, '...he had a big cock...'

'That's for sure,' he said earnestly.

'The lipstick...' I said and paused for effect, '...was at the base of that big cock. Someone with a whole lot of talent put it there.'

'I put it there, Butch, believe me, and if you had a cock as big as Jason's I could prove it.'

'My cock's at least as big as his,' I offered.

'Oh!' he said. I heard both surprise and interest in the way he pronounced that little word. I looked over at him. His eyes shown brightly despite the bizarre makeup. It made me realize I was one of his many fans that he'd fooled completely.

'So the killer took you for a prostitute and told you to get the fuck out of there, is that right?' I asked continuing my interrogation. I'd get back to that particular proof in a minute.

'Yes, and Jason used my fake name, Nancy, to tell me to get out. He protected me. I never thought he'd get shot. Believe me. If I had thought that, I would have stayed to try to help him. But he made me think he wasn't in any danger, so I snuck out the back, just like I'd snuck in.'

'Why were you in drag in the first place?'

'Jason had phoned me. He told me Bruno had been killed.'


'Well,' he said sheepishly, 'He knew Bruno and I used to be...' he paused.

'Lovers?' I asked. I was amazed.

'Yeah. Jason thought someone might be after me, too. It scared me to death, so I got a makeup artist I know to help with this disguise.'

'So tell me, godamit, who was the killer?'

'I don't know.'

'Wadda ya mean, you don't know. You saw him, didn't you?'

'Sure. But I don't know who he is. I didn't recognize him. I never saw him before.'

'You know the director I'm doing this job for, don't you?'

'Sure. He directed one of my best films. You must have seen it. It was...'

Now he was his own publicist. Egos! What shit! 'Yeah. Yeah,' I interrupted. 'You're telling me the guy who shot Jason was not the director. You're not covering up for him, are you?' I was getting annoyed.

'No! I swear. I never saw the guy before.'

'What did he look like?'

'I'm not sure. You gotta remember what I was doing when he came in. It was sort of embarrassing, getting caught that way. You know, my reputation. Publicity. My fans.'

'What did he look like?' I repeated. It was like trying to deal with a conceited girl, for Christ's sake.

'I don't know. Tall. Older, but still handsome, in a way. I can't remember any details.'

'Did Jason call him by name?' A suspicion was growing in the back of my mind. (Have you figured out who it might be, yet?)

'Well,' he said slowly, drawing out the word as he thought about it. 'Wait! As I was leaving I heard Jason say something like 'Henry' or 'Harry.' Oh, I don't remember.'

'Concentrate. Think about it.'

'It was...' he paused. It seemed that he was really trying to remember. I liked that. I was starting to trust him. Then he said, 'It was that movie name...'

Before he could continue, I picked up the car-phone and called Will.

* * * * *

'Well, I guess you're a hero, now,' the movie star was saying. He had started to remove his makeup by first tearing off the rubber facemask. 'Your cop buddy must be real happy about catching the killer.' Then, as I watched, somehow getting aroused by his activity, he used tissues to wipe off the eye shadow and eyeliner after he'd removed the false eyelashes. I saw that he was just about ready to remove the lipstick.

'Hold it!' I demanded. He looked startled. I had nabbed his attention. 'I'm still not convinced you're the one who put the lipstick on Jason's...'

He was quick to catch on. His hand darted over to my crotch and before you could call out 'Lights! Camera! Action!' he had my fly open, my cock tugged out, and my erection halfway down his throat.

Jesus! I thought, Look who's goin' down on me! Oooh, he's good! Oooh, he likes it! Aloud, I said, 'Yeah, take it. Suck my cock, man. Yeah, that feels terrific. What a cocksucker! What a handsome cocksucker!' Talking dirty to this year's most popular screen idol. It was great. It was over-stimulating. I think I came before he could give final proof and make it all the way to the base of my wanger. But I no longer cared. Coming in him was enough of a reward for me. Enough proof that he was one of us.

'Fuck! That got me hot, man! Look at this,' he cried sitting up, raising the modest dress he was wearing and, pulling down dainty little panties, he revealed a nice, handsome erection, leaking lube. It was then, in that instant, I realized why he had not recognized Harvey, who turned out to be the director's jealous ex-lover, as the killer. His dick was average sized. I realized that once the director had seen it, and he probably saw it during their filming on location together, he would not be interested. No size queen worth her salt would be.

Well, size queen or not, I take my pleasures in any sized packaging. I know a good cock when I see one! And I needed no second request to go down on the cock of this, the handsomest, sexiest man in Hollywood!

* * * * *

I phoned Todd and told him the news. He begged me not to tell the director about our afternoon's little tryst. When I asked, 'What little tryst?' he sounded very grateful.

Then I phoned Will. He was all excited. The capture and confession had gone very smoothly. The Captain congratulated him and, as an afterthought, said, 'Tell your little dick friend he's off the hook, for now.' We laughed.

Then Will said, 'I'm just getting off work now, little dick friend.'

'Meet me at my place. I'll give you a good meal,' I offered.

'I could use something to eat,' he said huskily.

'I got plenty of meat.

'Yeah, I know. So do I! I'll be there by eight.'

It was just another day in L.A. But being a private dick here does have its moments!


Jack Sofelot


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