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Big Dicks

Once again, I was wearing my prettiest outfit, with the almost-translucent blouse and the skirt that I had shortened, held together with tape and staples. Once again, I went to the bar in the expensive hotel, hoping to get picked up by a high-roller – and once again, I was.This time it was a woman, and a cold, beautiful, scary one at that. Blonde, statuesque, regal good looks, definitely Teutonic. A Valkyrie. I tried to be warm and giggly, but she remained aloof and cold, yet took me home anyway. She looked hauntingly familiar, but I could not remember her name, no matter how hard I tried.Then, somehow, I wound up dancing for her in her private studio – or at least trying to dance. She kept demanding that I do better, but I kept stumbling and forgetting the steps. Worse, she was using a riding crop on me and it was making me hot, which made my dancing worse.Suddenly, I found myself dancing naked in front of a large audience – and was desperate to cum, my honey dripping onto the stage.I slipped and fell on my back, then found that I was tied, spread-eagle, to a bed. A blonde woman was alternately enticing me with her hands and mouth, then hitting me with the crop. I had welts all across my body, especially around my breasts and kitty, yet I was dripping with unbearable desire. I loved it. I hated it. I urgently wanted it to stop, and I desperately wanted it to continue.Please, I kept begging the woman, please let me cum. I’ll do anything…anything at all! She finally raised her head to look at me, and I saw my own face staring back at me.Find Mistress’ killer! I snarled.I was trapped, alone, squirming on the bed, fighting against my bonds as the mist rolled in and everything vanished. I woke up, sweating, breathing hard, disoriented, and nauseous, feeling like I was going to throw up again. I got ready to bolt to the toilet, but the feeling gradually passed, and I collapsed back onto the damp sheets.Oh, FUCK that had been bad! I gulped the air of the flat, trying to stop my heart from pounding its way out of my chest, then sat up. I swung my feet over the side and hung my head, wiping sweat from my face.Finally, when I could, I stood up, wobbled over to the dresser, and got a cigarette.Mistress never allowed me to smoke, saying it was bad for me. Well, what the fuck did that matter now? I was dead already, wasn’t I?I lit up, opened the window, grabbed a blanket, and climbed, naked, out onto the balcony. I laid the blanket down and sat on it, then wrapped the rest of it around my shoulders. I didn’t try to cover my tits or kitty. I didn’t care.One after-effect of the nightmares was that I woke up incredibly horny for some reason, almost as much as in my dreams. I frequently woke up wet and usually dealt with it the same way.So, I sat out in the cool night air, smoking, and used a finger of my right hand to split my labia. I found my clit, which wasn’t quite out of its hood, and gently rubbed it until it was hard. I took a deep breath, tilted my head, and blew a cloud of smoke straight up while smearing my honey around.I stroked my clit, gently at first, then with increasing speed and pressure. My breathing picked up again, kaçak iddaa and my heart started beating hard again – but for a much happier reason this time. I could feel my orgasm building, so I backed off, intending to edge myself, getting closer, then backing off, then closer again, then backing off.Finally, when I had reached a stage where I would be begging Mistress to let me cum – I let myself cum. I leaned forward on my knees, clamped my mouth closed, squinted my eyes tightly shut, and felt a great wave wash over me. I eventually had to open my mouth to breathe again, panting.I found it a challenge to cum that hard without crying out, but I didn’t want any more of an audience than I already had. I knew there were a couple of guys who watched me play with myself out here. They kept their windows dark, and stood back – but I could see their eyes, gleaming out at me as they stroked their dicks. Perverts.As long as they didn’t try to get any closer, I was okay with them watching. I was used to having men see me naked. I liked it.~~~~~My close brush with the police at Gregor’s store had spooked me, so I decided to go to ground for a few days. I left the store as inconspicuously as possible, then used back alleys and back fences to get to my flat. I knew how to get around Rotterdam without being seen. I’d been a gutter rat there for many months so being invisible was second nature to me.When I got to the flat, I holed up there for three days, only venturing out to the fire escape and back, and then only at night.I had gone to a lot of trouble to die, and I didn’t want to risk screwing it up by being found alive. I wouldn’t be able to do it a second time, so I had to wait until the police had probably stopped looking for me in Rotterdam. At that, I could have been surprised that they were looking for me at all – except I knew how much clout Hans had. It was undoubtedly his pressure that were pushing the police to see if I was still alive. Well, I had plans for Hans, too, but they would have to wait.Although I had shouted at myself in my nightmare to find her killer, I knew that Miriam was with me and approved of my plans. I could hear the warm approval in her voice when she spoke to me.Since I couldn’t get out and around the city, I decided to do some serious thinking instead. If I were the police, and intent on finding Miriam’s killer, whom would I have suspected?I started by making a list of anyone close to her, anyone with a grudge, anyone with a reason to dislike her, or a motive to want her out of the way.I was the number one suspect on my list. After all, most victims were killed by someone close to them, especially their husband or wife.I had an alibi, but I looked at it as a police detective might, and tried to pick holes in it. If I got close to whoever had killed Miriam, they would probably try to drag another suspect across the police’s noses to distract them – and I was the best choice, especially if I were dead and couldn’t defend myself.One by one I listed the ways I could have killed, or arranged or contracted to kill Mistress. I made notes about things to investigate, and things to examine, then finally kaçak bahis set myself aside as a suspect, and went on to suspect number two: Hans.Why Hans? Well, he was the second closest person to Miriam, plus he got a big financial windfall when she died. He was already in line to inherit from his parents, so if she was dead, he would get whatever they would have left her as well. It is certain they would never leave anything to me, the street scum Miriam married. So, there was a financial incentive for Hans.I jotted down everything I could think of about Hans and Miriam, making notes about how such things might be related to the killing. This was just the start of my investigation, and I was merely brainstorming now. And, as I said, I had other plans for Hans – but they would have to wait until I got in touch with Gregor.I also added several members of the Wolf family, starting with the asshole who objected to my inheriting from Miriam. I also included her parents. They didn’t approve of her lifestyle, and even less of her decision to marry me. They hated having me as a daugher-in-law. Now they could disown me.Over those three days, I wrote and thought and smoked and tried to sleep, with mixed success. The face in the mirror looked haggard and horrible – not that I cared. I stopped looking.I listed the members of the DeCoven BDSM Club that Miriam ran. I considered people who had either not liked Mistress, like that fat asshole whom I’d almost throttled at the Club, or who stood to gain, like Mistress Andrea. I didn’t actually believe Andrea would want Mistress dead, but I was going to make neither mistakes nor assumptions about it. After all, Andrea was the logical choice to succeed Mistress, so she went on the list, no matter how I felt about her.Once I finished with DeCoven and other business contacts, I turned to outsiders, starting with the police. After all, they were the ones who had first examined her body, they were the ones who did such a slipshod job of investigating, and they were the ones who concluded that there was nothing further to find. It seemed too…pat. Definitely something to look into.I even included that non-entity from the German consulate that accompanied the police when they informed me of Mistress’ death. As I said, I wasn’t going to make any assumptions, but would check out everyone I could think of.The list was as complete as I could make it. It was as good as I could do while confined to my flat.Once it was done, I decided to review what I remembered from the cop I seduced. As it was well after midnight, I crawled out onto the balcony with my blanket and cigarettes, and thought about him, and what I could remember about our encounters.I realized that I had learned some very valuable things from him – more than he realized. Yet the details were in with my online notes, and I needed them and my laptop before I could get down to serious work.Getting what I needed from the cop had taken patience – although I had some fun along the way. I smiled at the memory and took a drag on my cigarette.~~~~~Piers had been one of the two cops that broke the news to me about Mistress’ death. He had ridden with illegal bahis me in the ambulance when my waters broke and I went into labor.My seduction of him was cold-blooded and deliberate. The police had information I needed, so I either needed an ally or a dupe, and I didn’t care which.I knew that Piers found me attractive. It was too bad that he was actually a good guy, but I knew what I needed, and he had access to it. It was that simple.I had been planning something like this since Hans told me he suspected that Miriam’s death was not an accident. I knew, from my own earlier run-ins with them, that police forces tend to be both officious and lazy, and their so-called investigation of Miriam’s death proved that in spades.So, when I was still in the hospital after Hans had told me of his suspicions, and Piers came to visit me, I laid the groundwork for his seduction. He said he just wanted to check up on me, and see how I was doing. I told him how much I appreciated what he had done for me, and made him feel like a hero. I even grabbed and held his hand, weeping.I knew from years of pandering to men’s egos that he was buying it. I could see him straighten up, square his shoulders, and his smile broadened. I thought perhaps I had laid it on too thick, but his demeanor told me he believed me.When I was out of the hospital and back home, I made a point of inviting him to come visit us, to see the baby he had helped deliver, and I continued to show my appreciation. That’s all it was at this point – appreciation. I was taking it slow, and making it seem natural, even though I had been plotting this for weeks.He took to stopping by to bring himself “up to date” on how I was doing, and to check if I was okay, or needed anything. And whenever I answered the door, I would always check the peephole to see who it was. If it was him, I always made sure I looked sad when I opened the door, then broke into a smile when I saw him. And I started flirting with him, lightly at first, and then more seriously as we got closer.When I thought he was ready, I broke down and started sobbing during a visit.I should have won an Academy Award for that performance.But it did the trick – literally. He came over and put his arm awkwardly around me. I turned toward him and buried my face in his chest, then, after a while, looked up at him with tears streaming down my cheeks – then, impulsively, stretched up and kissed him.I released all of my pent-up emotions, real and faked, and pulled him to me. After a kiss that got deeper and more passionate, I dragged him to the floor and wrapped my arms around him. And then my legs. I was the distraught widow, desperately seeking comfort in the arms of another, letting him know he would be an inhuman brute if he pulled away. I had him hooked – so I pulled hard on the line.When I gauged that his cock was stiff, leaking, and ready, I sat up, grabbed his hand, and pulled him towards the bedroom. He hesitated and dragged me to a stop.I turned to him, anguish in my eyes, and said, “Please, Piers. I need someone. I need a hero. I need you!”He gave up with no more resistance than that and followed me to the bedroom. Figuring it would be harder for him to run without his pants, I started tearing at his clothes like a frantic woman, and successfully stripped him in a few seconds flat. Well, I had a lot of experience.

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