The fluorescent light flickered dimly, leaving the interrogation room so dark that, even if someone had been watching through the two-way mirror, they wouldn’t have been able to see a thing. But as Detective Phillips closed her eyes and slipped her tongue into the bisexual hooker’s sweet, naked pussy, the woman’s groans of ecstasy were more than enough to tell her that she was on the right track.
‘Come on now baby.’ She purred enticingly, treating the suspect to yet another sensuous cavity search. ‘Just tell me where you got the money from and I promise that I’ll strip search you again.’
The hooker longed to tell her everything. After all, the first time that she’d laid her eyes on Susan Phillips, her pussy hadn’t stopped tingling for days. It had been lust at first sight, and she’d been lusting after her ever since.
Lucy might have known that Susan was too damn sexy for her to resist for very long. But although she longed to submit to the gorgeous lesbian detective, the hooker was too scared of her new boss to even dare to breathe a word.
No matter how much Lucy might have tried to resist however, the detective refused to give up. While her
interrogation methods might have been against regulations, sooner or later, they always managed to get results.
In the two years since she’d been transferred from homicide to vice, in exchange for turning a blind eye to her offences and a loving, sensuous fuck, Susan Phillips had persuaded Lucy to snitch on her girlfriends, her clients and half of the pimps and hookers who worked in Manhattan South. Because while she might have got a thrill from fucking strange men for a living, she was so bisexual that she could hardly tell the difference. And although it might have been unethical, Detective Phillips was more than willing to exploit it to the hilt.
As a tall voluptuous blonde with a body to die for and a kiss that would have made straight women tingle with desire, Susan was almost eager to use her sexuality on the job.
Every night when she needed information about a new pimp in town, the detective would fix her hair and make-up, put on the sexiest stockings and stilettos that she could find and pay a visit to the alley where Lucy plied her trade. And having found a dark, secluded vantage point where she could view the hooker without fear of being seen, the detective watched her strut up and down under the dull yellow glow of the street light and licked her lips with anticipation as she waited for her to break the law.
Most cops usually complain that stakeouts are long and boring, but Detective Phillips always got such a thrill from spying on the cute young redhead that sometimes it was hard for her to keep her fingers away from her slit.
When push came to shove, the simple truth was that Detective Phillips lusted after the hooker almost as much as Lucy lusted after her. She loved the way the woman
dressed. She loved the way she moved. And despite the fact that she was a lesbian, she loved to watch her work.
The moment that the hooker’s client handed over the cash, Phillips knew that she had more than enough evidence to swoop down and arrest them both. But biting her lip to keep herself from groaning with delight, the detective would do her best to keep quiet as she observed from the shadows; watching as Lucy squatted down to suck his throbbing cock.
Some hookers might pretend to moan with pleasure to keep their clients happy, but Lucy wasn’t faking it. She loved her job. And when the client finally came inside her mouth, she stroked her naked pussy so furiously that the detective couldn’t help but join in.
By the time that the man had left the alley, Lucy was always so desperately horny that she was praying for the detective to jump out of the shadows and arrest her right there. And sure enough, Detective Phillips was always on hand to make her fondest wish come true.
‘Hello again baby.’ She’d pant seductively; pushing the lecherous hooker up against the wall and making her ‘assume the position.’ And as she slowly ran her hand up the inside of the hooker’s thigh and caressed her naked pussy, Lucy always sang like a loose-lipped canary, telling the detective everything that she knew before she even had a chance to ask a single question. But that night when Detective Phillips had visited the alley to pay Lucy another visit, the devoted prostitute was nowhere to be seen.
It didn’t take long for the detective to find Lucy hiding out in her apartment. The door had been left open. But for the first time since the day they’d met, when the detective walked into the room, the expression on the hooker’s face was one of fear instead of lust.
The room was almost completely dark, lit only by a table lamp in the corner of the room where Lucy was cowering, clutching a brown paper parcel as if her life depended on it.
Did Susan need to call for back-up? Was there someone else in the house?
Drawing her weapon from its holster, the detective searched every room in the apartment; she checked the closet, the bathroom, and she even checked under the bed. And having made sure that Lucy was completely alone, she made the woman a fresh pot of coffee and asked her what was wrong.
But Lucy didn’t breathe a word. And when Susan sat down next to her and opened up the parcel, she was shocked to realize that it was filled with $50 bills.
‘What the Hell is this?’ she insisted, hardly able to believe her eyes. Lucy was a two-bit hooker. One look around her dingy apartment proved that there was no way on earth that she could have laid her hands on that kind of money, unless…
The guilt-ridden hooker burst into tears, begging the detective for forgiveness but still refusing to tell her what it was that she had done.
Lucy was beside herself, but Susan could be very comforting when she wanted to be. And after ten minutes wrapped in the detective’s loving embrace, Lucy was far too horny to want to cry any more.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to tell me where you got the money,’ teased the detective slipping her hand up under the hem of Lucy’s miniskirt, forcing her to groan with anticipation and playing the same game that they always played. ‘If you don’t tell me something soon, then I’m going to have to arrest you again.’
Lucy longed to tell the detective everything. She longed to be rewarded with another loving lesbian fuck. But the moment that she’d taken the money, she’d also known that her new boss would kill her if she talked.
No matter how resistant the hooker might have been however, the detective could also be very persuasive when she wanted to be. And as she made the woman tremble with desire, she knew that it would only be a matter of time before she told the truth.
‘Am I going to have to strip search you?’ She giggled seductively, slowly pulling down the hooker’s spandex boob tube to reveal her gorgeous breasts.
Lucy nodded frantically. But even as the detective wrapped her lips around her pert, swollen nipples, the gasping hooker bit her tongue and refused to say a word.
Even when the detective forced her to ‘assume the position,’ slipping her fingers knuckle deep into her naked pussy and forcing her to cum until she wanted to pass out, Lucy still managed to keep her mouth shut. And before too long, Susan realized that she had no choice except to slap the cuffs on her favourite snitch and to drag her downtown.
Lucy didn’t mind of course. As far as she was concerned, part of the fun of being a hooker was feeling the cold steel brush against her wrists as she was manhandled into the back seat of a police car. And now that she was being arrested by a lesbian goddess, it was like a dream come true.
Lucy was in heaven, and Susan was enjoying herself almost as much. But after three hours of ceaseless fucking in interrogation room three, Detective Phillips was still no closer to the truth. And so leaving the suspect cuffed to the table for a moment as she paid a visit to the cafeteria, she
borrowed a baton from one of the uniformed officers to help move things along.
‘Are you gonna’ beat the confession out of her?’ grinned the uniformed cop as she handed it over.
‘Something like that,’ she replied.
And thirty seconds later, the suspect was howling with orgasm as the club was rammed into her gushing slit.
‘Rachel Whittaker!’ panted Lucy, struggling to catch her breath in the brief moment between orgasms as the detective continued to pound her gushing slit. ‘She hired me to fuck some guy called Davidson while she photographed us in secret! She sent the pictures to his wife, but then the poor bastard turned up dead!’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Phillips.
‘She’s a professional killer, but she pretends to be a PI! She finds rich women who hate their husbands! She tricks bitches like me into setting them up so that she can photograph us together! And then she uses the pictures to get their wives so angry that they hire her to rub them out!’
The detective couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘Why in God’s name would you want to go along with
this?’ she demanded as she threw the baton to one side.
‘I didn’t know!’ howled Lucy, unable to hold back her remorse any longer. ‘She said that she was a PI looking for evidence that the wife could use in her divorce! But then when she gave me the money, she told me the truth, and then she told me that she’d kill me if I told anyone else!’
‘You have to take me to her,’ said the detective as she helped Lucy back up onto her feet. ‘Tell her that I hate my girlfriend and that I want her dead; that she’s left everything to me in her will but that she’s an adulterous bitch.’
But Lucy was adamant.
‘No Fucking Way!’ she insisted frankly, too stricken with terror to care about anything except saving her own skin. ‘This isn’t some back alley pimp you’re asking me to set up! She’s a professional killer! If she finds out that I’m even here, then I’ll be found first thing tomorrow morning with a bullet in my head!’
‘Okay, okay, I promise you,’ reassured the detective. ‘You were never here, we’ve never met before. But please, tell me everything that you know, and I’ll take care of the rest.’
Lucy was still terrified. But having spent the last two years together, she knew that Susan cared far too much to let anything happen to her. And so in spite of her better judgement, the hooker decided to tell the detective everything that she knew.
Even with Lucy’s help however, it still took three weeks for Phillips to find the murdering bitch in question and even longer for her to find a way in. But from the moment that Lucy had told her how the two of them had first met, the gorgeous lesbian knew that it was only a matter of time before she could get her foot in the door.
‘Hey there honey,’ purred Rachel as she pulled up next to the sexy blonde hooker. ‘Do you do women as well?’
And even in this dimly lit back alley at ten o’clock at night, the undercover detective was still so shocked by what she saw that could hardly believe her eyes.
The description fit, but if this really was Rachel Whittaker then she looked more like a nursery school teacher than a professional assassin. But then again, that was probably the whole point.
The woman looked so young and innocent that it was hard enough for Susan to believe that she was picking up a hooker, let alone that she might strangle someone with a length of extension cord. But as the thought that she might
get away with murder crossed the detective’s mind, she put her childish opinions to one side and got on with the job.
‘Yeah, I like fucking women,’ she giggled, ‘$10 for a kiss, $20 to lick your pussy and $50 for a passionate fuck.’ And the next thing that she knew, she and Rachel were groaning with ecstasy in the back seat of her car, fucking each other’s naked pussies until neither of them could
‘How’d you like to make yourself a few thousand dollars?’ asked Rachel seductively, slipping her long, slender fingers deep inside the detective’s slit.
‘Are you kidding?’ gasped the hooker. ‘What do I have to…do?’
And after several weeks of waiting, the trap was finally set.
As far as Rachel was concerned, Detective Phillips was just another stupid hooker out to make a bit of extra cash. And that, for all the hooker knew, she was just another private investigator out to gather evidence on someone’s cheating husband. After all, why would she have any reason to suspect that something else was going on?
Since the day that she’d killed both of her parents in order to claim the inheritance, Rachel Whittaker had learned that playing sweet and innocent was usually more than enough for her to get away with murder.
If she ever got into trouble with the police, or anyone else for that matter, she just smiled and fluttered her eyelashes or cried and pouted until it went away. And since she’d never even been indicted for any of the crimes that she’d committed, to the detective’s surprise, her PI’s license was completely genuine. But as she continued to play the role that the killer expected her to play, Susan
consoled herself with the knowledge that it wouldn’t be valid for much longer.
‘Okay honey,’ smiled Rachel as she and Susan pulled up outside the hotel where she knew that the target would be staying. ‘The woman’s name is Jennifer Willis and she’s arranged for an escort to meet her up in her room for a good hard fuck before bedtime. She’s staying in room 314. Here’s the key…’
‘Jennifer Willis?’ interrupted Susan ‘I thought that we were setting up the husband.’
‘Not this time.’ She giggled maliciously. ‘Her favourite hobby is trawling lesbian night clubs for hot-looking bitches like you. The husband’s not too happy about it, and he’s going to pay me $50,000 to…gather evidence that he can use against her in the divorce.’
Susan was almost disappointed. Having spent two weeks getting used to the idea of spreading her legs for a man, she’d been curious to find out what it might feel like. But of course, this was no time for her to be wondering about her sexuality. And so, giving Rachel a loving kiss goodbye, she strutted into the hotel lobby and made her way up to the room. But the moment that she got there, she realized that something was horribly wrong.
‘Lucy?’ she gasped in astonishment. ‘What the fuck are you…Oh my god…RUN!’
The killer had figured out who Susan really was and that it was Lucy who’d betrayed her. And for the sake of efficiency, she’d decided to kill them both at once.
The mousetrap had indeed been set, but Susan and Lucy were the mice. And although they ran out to the back of the hotel as fast as they possibly could, they knew that the killer could only be a short distance behind.
‘Did you bring a gun?’ panted Lucy, too busy running to realize just how terrified she really was.
‘Sorry darling. I’m undercover.’
But two minutes later when the women found themselves trapped in the hotel’s rear corridor, locked in by a fire door that the killer had padlocked shut in advance, Susan wished that she’d taken the risk and put a revolver in her purse.
‘What’s the matter ladies?’ teased Rachel as she slowly strutted up the corridor towards her cowering prey. ‘Don’t you want to work for me any more?
Susan told Lucy to get behind her. Then taking off her stiletto heels, she prepared to make her move.
‘Try it bitch!’ snarled the assassin. But before she could even pull the trigger, Susan had thrown the shoes at the ceiling and smashed the fluorescent light.
The corridor was completely black. Rachel fired and Lucy screamed with fear. There were three more gunshots, and then everything went quiet.
‘Susan?’ whimpered Lucy, cautiously groping around in the dark to find the woman she loved. ‘Are you okay?
‘Yeah, fine,’ panted the detective. ‘Are you okay as well?’
Both women breathed a sigh of relief.
‘I’m good. What about Rachel?’
‘She’s dead,’ panted Susan.
And in the blinding darkness, the moment that Lucy managed to find the detective’s blood-tained hand, the two women embraced each other so passionately that they never wanted to let go.
‘Maybe I should get a real job, gggled Lucy, feeling safe and secure for the first time in months now that she was wrapped in her lover’s comforting embrace.
‘Maybe I should transfer back to homicide,’ joked the detective. ‘It’d probably be a hell of a lot safer than this.’