First Time Private Eye

Virgins Need Not Apply

Kimi sent me the Craigslist ad over Facebook. 'Photographer needed for private investigation firm. Must own camera and working car. Virgins need not apply.'

I wrote her back after checking out the ad and the rather generous hourly wage. -Ha ha, looks like just the job for me.-

-Are you going to apply Matt? You have a camera and you have that car.- My truck, passed down through three older siblings already, was more rust than vehicle. But it was, by definition, a working car.

I typed back: -Maybe! I could use the money.-

There was a gap in the conversation as I browsed my friends' Facebook pages. There were a lot of pictures of parties: red cups, dark rooms, girls posing for the camera. I tried not to feel jealous. My Facebook page was entirely photographs of trees, of birds, of the trails surrounding campus. It was my third year at college, and I still spent more time pointing my camera lens at nature than at prospective dates.

Suddenly, a message from Kimi popped up: -When are you coming home?-

Now this was interesting. I was on my laptop in my room, and I could hear Kimi through the door watching television on the living room couch. But she didn't know I was here! This was the perfect opportunity. My roommate and I had something of a prank competition going on. Yesterday Kimi had stolen all of the towels out of the bathroom while I was showering. I wound up holding the bathmat over my cock and a loofah over my ass as I ran to my room, right in front of Kimi's friends. If you didn't know Kimi and I, you might assume this was flirting. But I met Kimi through her girlfriend, Rose. Searching for roommates online, Rose had remembered me from a portrait photography class, and offered a room in the two-bedroom apartment she shared with her girlfriend. I lived with Rose and Kimi for a full year before they split up. It turns out Kimi's name was the one on the lease, and Rose moved across town near the river.

I might have met Rose first, but over the last year Kimi and I became great friends. We both loved to watch weird old movies (my favorite: Repo Man, Kimi's favorite: Top Secret), eat popcorn with hot sauce (me: Tabasco, Kimi: Mad Dog), and laze around in our underwear. Kimi was gorgeous, with long thick black hair, porcelain skin, and high cheek bones. But of course, she was a lesbian, and I had absolutely no chance with her. So to me she was like one of the guys. We hung out constantly, so much so that my other friends blamed Kimi for my lack of dating.

"No girl thinks she can compete with Kimi!" said my friend Rodrigo. "They assume you're together. By the way, are you together? Is she bi, or totally lesbian? Is she into me?"

This, by the way, is how all my conversations about Kimi went. Even my mom said she was waiting for the day that Kimi fell in love with me. It was embarrassing. But worth it, for the friendship.

I took some time thinking up a reply to Kimi's message. For all the ways she tried to be badass, Kimi had a jump reflex like no one else. If she saw a spider, or heard a creaking floorboard, or didn't know you were behind her when you said hello, she would jump about three feet into the air and scream. I knew now how to pull the perfect prank.

I replied: -I'm up at the library working on an assignment. I won't be back for a while.-

In the living room, Kimi laughed at something on the TV. I decided to wait a bit before I lept out of my room. It was hard though to not laugh and spoil the surprise. Honestly, the suspense before the prank has to be the most rewarding part of it.

Meanwhile, I opened a stealth tab on my laptop and quickly flipped through my various online dating profiles. Last night I'd felt desperate and sent out about twenty or so messages. There were no replies. I stared at the portraits who popped up as my matches. Beautiful women, in tank-tops beneath redwoods, in tight pajamas snuggling their dogs, in bikinis at the beach. I'd been on some first dates recently, but nothing promising.

Oh, I wasn't lacking in social skills. Just this past weekend, I'd met a psychology major at the 24-hour Thai restaurant. She was a short but tight-bodies girl with a cropped brown pixie cut. She had these amazing green eyes, I couldn't stop looking into them all night. We'd talked, we'd flirted, we walked out into the parking lot bumping shoulders... and then as we said a lingering goodbye, and she tilted her chin up to receive a kiss-

I left.

I didn't want to leave!

But there was this voice in my head warning me that a first kiss leads to a date with a second kiss, which could lead to an invitation to her room, which could lead to sex.

And here was what I hadn't told even my best friend Kimi.

I was a virgin.

I was a virgin on a college campus surrounded by beautiful, interesting, powerful women. I was a virgin with a sexy roommate who brought even more beautiful women into our apartment! I was a virgin with no good excuses except for the fact that I was embarrassed to be a virgin, and I knew the first time would be awkward and unsexy and...

Well, honestly, I was probably still a virgin because I thought about it too much!

Closing the dating websites, I noticed that Kimi wasn't watching TV anymore. I listened for footsteps- the floorboards of our old house are as creaky as they are drafty- and heard none. In fact, I heard nothing from behind the door. Kimi had to be on the couch still, probably with her headphones in, watching something on her laptop.

I snuck silently to the door. Slowly, slowly, I turned the knob, trying to not make a single noise. Inch by inch I opened the door, peeking through. Perfect, Kimi's back was turned to me as she lay on the couch. Just as I thought, she had her laptop on the coffee table and her earbuds in. She was totally captivated by what she was watching, which seemed to be a romantic movie. Two women were kissing, grasping at each others' bodies. They were... naked. One of the women, a brunette, started kissing down the other girl's body, taking her nipple between her lips. Her hands swept down the girl's taut belly, over her thighs, then took a handful of her pert ass.

Oh my god.

Kimi was watching porn!

Oh, this would just be too embarrassing.

How perfect!

I was about to leap out to scare Kimi, when I noticed that my roommate wasn't just watching porn. Her hands were moving down her body, over the thin white t-shirt she wore and down to her pink pajama shorts. One hand kneaded her small breast through the fabric, and the other slid below the shorts' waistband. I could see that Kimi was breathing heavily, her shoulders and breasts rising and falling. She still had the back of her head turned to me. I could see the shape of her hand in her shorts rubbing in circles. On the laptop, the brunette had her face between the thighs of the other woman. Her mouth was pressed firmly against the girl's pussy, grinding her lips and tongue against it. On the couch, Kimi moaned. Within her shorts, her hand moved back and forth. I could only imagine her fingers entering her wet pussy, rubbing at her clit. My own cock was throbbing against my pant leg.

Wait, what was I doing? I blinked, took a deep breath. I needed to close the door, give Kimi her privacy. No wonder she asked when I was coming home. She was horny and bored and- oh my god, she was now removing her pajama shorts.

Beneath, Kimi wasn't wearing underwear. She kicked off her shorts, and spread her knees. From where I was, I could see her pale thighs, the patch of black pubic hair carefully trimmed into a small triangle, and her fingers wet with pussy juice. Kimi popped her fingers into her mouth, then rubbed wet circles around her clit. Her hips bucked the air as she slipped two fingers into her pussy, and rocked her hand back and forth. Meanwhile, she grabbed her tit beneath her shirt, squeezing and pinching. On the laptop, the brunette lay down with her legs spread wide. Her blond lover, ass in the air, bent down to her pussy. The blond's lips and tongue made careful circles around the swollen pussy lips, then dove in. Every once in a while, the blond rose to give the brunette a sloppy, pussy-soaked kiss.

Kimi groaned in pleasure. She crossed her feet- still in cute little red socks- above her head. With one hand she reached down between her legs and continued to rub her clit. With the other hand, she reached down around her ass and started hammering her pussy with her fingers. She was audibly gasping, rubbing her bare ass against the sofa. I would have to sit on that sofa later. I wondered if I would be able to smell her body there, her pussy and ass and juices.

Now on the laptop, the two lesbians 69'd. The porn cut back and forth between their gorgeous faces pressed deep into each others' pussies. Tongues lashed out, lips pulled at flesh, and saliva and pussy juices dripped down their chins.

I suddenly noticed that my own hand was pressed against my cock through my jeans. My cock was trapped in my pant leg, and my hand slowly moved up and down my shaft. I yanked my hand back as if I were touching a live wire. I couldn't believe what I was doing. And yet, I had not closed the door.

On the laptop, the brunette started squirting all over the blond. She rubbed her clit furiously, covering the blond's mouth, chin, and tits with her juices. Like a starving woman, the blond lapped up the juices, shuddering as she herself climaxed.

Kimi groaned again and thrust her hips up into the air. Her spine arched, she scooted back so that her shoulders pressed on top of the couch arm, and her head fell back, her black hair dropping like a waterfall at night. I gasped, realizing she now faced me, staring openly at her masturbating on the couch. But luck was still with me- Kimi's eyes were closed.

I'll admit, I still didn't close the door right away. I looked at the upside-down face of my roommate for a split second longer. Her lips were pursed open and red. Her cheeks, normally pale white, were flushed. Her dark eyebrows, scrunched up in furious bliss, were smooth and beautiful. I had an urge to kiss her. Or to unzip my jeans, take out my cock, and slide it between those red lips. Fuck her throat. Cum on her chest.

Oh god, what was I thinking? I stepped back into my room and silently closed the door. I just prayed she hadn't opened her eyes in time.

I scanned my room for an escape plan. Kimi still thought I was up on campus.

The window of my room opened on a little side yard maintained by our landlord, and then the sidewalk and street where my old beater of a truck was parked. I grabbed my laptop, my backpack, and my camera. I gently placed my goods outside the window, then squeezed out myself.

My truck was infamous in our neighborhood. Its peeling red paint left rusty patches like some sunburnt cow. Its engine started with a gunshot, whined like an injured buffalo, and coughed like a starving artist with tuberculosis. It was, in other words, not a great getaway vehicle.

Instead, my legs shaking and my balls aching, I scurried down the sidewalk. There was a coffee shop I liked a few blocks away. I'd spend some time there and then walk home. As I walked down the sidewalk, I practiced the neutral face I'd have to keep up when I came through the front door. But I kept picturing Kimi's face instead. Upside down, flushed with erotic energies, her lips pursed as she climaxed. I shook my head. I would have to calm down before I reached the coffee shop. I could still see the outline of my hard cock in my pant leg.

I'd gotten things under control by the time I reached Coffee & Pie, a coffee shop and bakery I'd been visiting since I'd first moved in with Rose and Kimi. It was a real local's joint, visited by families and retirees rather than college students. Other than myself, of course.

Coffee & Pie was hidden in a strip mall in between a Brazilian Jujitsu school and a private dental practice. I guess if you got your teeth knocked out in Jujitsu you could get fixed two doors down, then celebrate with a slice of home-baked pie. The coffee shop was an unassuming little square of a place, just a glass counter filled with pies, a couple of tables and a single lumpy couch. But it had great wi-fi, it was quiet, and I was in love with a girl who worked there.

Well, I should amend that.

I wanted to be in love with her. The truth was, I'd hardly talked with her. She had braided black hair and a round, freckled face. Large glasses with bold black frames perched on a cute, upturned nose. She wore these patterned button-down shirts that stretched over her large, round breasts. She had a tattoo of a walrus skull on her right forearm.

I didn't even know her name.

Here's the limit of our conversation each time I come into the coffee shop to relax or work:

"I'll have an Americano and a slice of pie."

"The pear pie is especially good right now."

"Sounds good."

"That'll be $5.50."

"Here you go."

"Have a nice day."

"You too."

Then I sit down and eat my pie and drink my Americano and try not to look at her.

Once- just once- there was a variation to the conversation. It was the first or second time I'd brought my new camera with me. I'd scrimped and saved for this camera, foregoing coffee for two months. I was very proud of it, and brought it everywhere to show off. When I asked for my Americano, the girl behind the counter said she hadn't seen me in a while. I told her I'd been saving for this camera, and that segued into a little conversation about photography. She said her father was a photographer, but she had no talent for it. Instead, she was going to the local community college to figure out what she wanted to pursue in life.

All the while my heart was beating out of my chest and I kept thinking, 'Ask her out, ask her out, ask her out!'

I finally got up the guts to introduce myself. I said, "My name is Matt."

And just as she took my hand in hers, a customer walked through the door. The loud ringing of the bell above the door covered the sound of her name. And before I could ask again, the customer was ordering a carafe of coffee and a dozen pies for their office. It was too late.

So now I fell back on the old conversation, all business, too embarrassed to introduce myself again.

I opened my laptop and noticed the Craigslist ad was still open. 'Photographer needed for private investigation firm. Must own camera and working car. Virgins need not apply.'

Well, I had a car and a camera. And that last sentence had to be a strange joke. I had some time to waste, so I decided to apply. I opened up my resume, added a few updates, and selected some good photographs to go with it. Thinking of the old detective noir films my mom had loved, I selected black and white photographs with heavy shadows. Many of them were of Kimi, my usual subject. There was one of her standing against a blank white wall of our apartment. The sun was low in the sky and casting these incredible dark criss-crossed shadows from the picture window at the front. She was holding a white sheet against her bare chest, and the shadows of the window frames and the shadows of the sheet intermingled into a sort of rorschach test ink-blot. Her pale skin, her black hair, all played into this chaos of light and dark. She looked pretty sexy, too.

I noticed, suddenly, that the coffee shop girl was behind me looking at the screen. I closed the window, my face turning beet red. "Here's your Americano and pie," she said, bending down and placing the plate and mug next to my laptop. Her work shirt was unbuttoned at the top. In avoiding eye contact, I wound up staring straight down her cleavage, noticing she wore a sleek purple bra over her large, round breasts.

I blinked, yanked my eyes away, and mumbled a thank-you. I just couldn't get anything right today!

I sent off the application, then read some articles for class while enjoying my pie and coffee. The articles were all about architectural photography. Different theories on how to shoot a building. We had a big architectural photography project coming up that I'd been procrastinating. And now I was even more distracted. I felt my eyes were magnets turning towards the curves of any woman I saw. I kept remembering Kimi touching herself on the couch. I kept thinking about how clumsy I was in staring down the coffee girl's shirt. I decided I would never look at a woman again. I would buy thick sunglasses, the ones you wear during an eclipse. I would take a vow of silence, so I could never say something embarrassing. I would sequester myself in a monk's cell in the most isolated monastery in the world. I would-

An e-mail popped up from someone named Danika Saint-Claire. It had a simple message:

'I received your application. The job is yours if you want it. Meet me tonight at 8:00 at the office. - Danika'

There was an address and a phone number.

I immediately messaged Kimi online. -Holy shit, I got the job!-

-Detective Matt!- she replied. -Ready to take pictures of husbands fucking their mistresses?-

My face blanched white, then burned. I hadn't thought of just what my camera would be pointed at. 'Virgins need not apply,' I thought. Kimi was probably right. Then again, I had a picture of Kimi with her fingers deep in her pussy seared in my mind. Maybe this job would help me get my mind off of certain other things.

-I'm heading home,- I typed to Kimi.

-See you soon!-

Part Two: A Job Well Done

With a shot, and a whine, and a desperate cough, my truck pulled into the office park. It was nearly eight, and the parking lot was empty. A single light shone in an office window up on a third floor. The whole office building was built Mission-style, with adobe white walls and odd, fortress-like roofs. I felt like a thief invading a castle.

I walked up the stairs and rang the bell at the door. A voice inside said, "Come in!"

Inside was less an office than a single room. Half the space was taken up by a long desk covered in piles of folders, binders, and loose papers. On the wall was a framed picture of Humphrey Bogart. And in the center, sitting in the only chair in the room, was Danika Saint-Claire, or Dany as I'd soon learn to call her.

Danika, I would learn, was a product of tragedy and survival. Her mother's side of the family was dragged to America in the slave trade, but escaped into Indian territory. Her father's side fled from the black trains of Germany to Mexico, then over generations bled across the border into the southwestern U.S. She had mocha skin, a proud European nose, the jawline of a 1950's starlet, and the black eyes of a shark.

"Listen," she said to me by way of introduction, "I was born able to solve a Rubix cube in thirty seconds flat, but I don't deal well with people. I can hit bullseye with a revolver blindfolded, but I can't promise to be nice or kind or even really very human. I'll forget your name, but I'll pay you on time. My name is Danika Saint-Claire. Do you want the job?"

There was one more thing I didn't mention. Danika was beautiful. A cold, sculpted beauty, though she didn't wear makeup or jewelry. She had an odd fedora placed cockeyed on her cropped hair. Her fingernails were chewed down to the quick. And yet her beauty could not be denied.

I nodded, and put out a hand that wasn't shaken. "I'm Matt. I brought my camera and my car."

I decided to not mention my virginity.

"Okay, Nat," Danika replied. I couldn't tell if she was joking or not. Those black eyes bore into me. No wonder she was a detective, she looked like she could take me apart like a puzzle and put me together behind her back. "You drive, I'll navigate. We have a job tonight."

Danika grabbed a trenchcoat from the wall and led me out the door. I pointed out my truck. She stared at it for a while. "Not very nondescript," she muttered, but she got in the passenger seat anyways.

I started the truck, wincing at every groan, and Danika began navigating through unlit back streets. She filled me in on the job.

"I've been hired by a local real-estate agent who thinks her husband's cheating on her. She's noticed that her keys to the houses on market go missing at night, when he's supposed to be attending AA meetings."

We drove around the sleepy suburbs. Each time we came to a house for sale, we'd slow down. Dany knew which ones were her targets. If the lights weren't on, Dany would sneak out of the car and peek through the windows. I admired her athleticism. She'd leap over a hedge or climb over a high iron fence without hesitation.

Finally, we found the right house. It was at the end of a cul-de-sac of identical cookie-cutter homes. Half of them were for sale; two others had Uhaul trucks parked in the driveway. A few houses had their lights on, but only one had a For Sale sign still stuck in the manicured lawn. Danika had me park a few houses away. We sat in the back of the pickup truck in the dark of the night. Above, a few clouds caught the silver light of the moon. There were frogs seeking answers in the bushes. A cool wind caught at my hands as I adjusted my camera.

"Can you get a shot?" Danika asked.

I trained the camera on the lit window on the bottom floor of the house. The curtains were open. I zoomed in, and I could see a man sitting on a couch.

"I see him!"

"Shh! This is a private investigation. We don't need the neighbors to start poking into our business. Just keep your eye on Anthony and tell me what he's doing"

I watched the man through my camera lense. He was well-built, with broad shoulders and the shadow of a beard on his square jaw. He looked like he'd played football, or maybe rugby, in college.

"I think he's just watching TV," I whispered.

Danika nodded. "I shadowed Anthony at some AA meetings. I believe he's got a date with a girl he met there. Someone your age, actually." She looked at me in the darkness. The moonlight gleamed on her skin, but her eyes were all in shadow.

I searched for a reply. "Yeah, a lot of girls at my college like to date older guys. I guess they're more mature."

Danika laughed. "Makes it tough for you, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess," I chuckled nervously.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"What?"

Danika shook her head. "Sorry, I told you I'm no good at social skills. I guess that was an inappropriate question."

I took a moment to look at this woman who had hired me. I'd assumed she was much older than me, but in the moonlight it was difficult to tell her exact age. She had a kind of ageless face, one that must have made her look like an adult as a teenager, and would keep her looking like a young adult even into middle age. Tonight she wore her trench coat over baggy sweats and a sweatshirt with the community college logo on it. A strange combination, I noted.

We waited on the back of the truck for over an hour. I kept glancing through my camera at our target, and updated Dany. Other than that, there was no effort at small talk.

"He's checking his phone."

"He's watching TV again."

"Oh! He just got up! To... use the bathroom."

"He's watching TV again."

"He's texting. He looks disappointed."

Danika swore. "I'm guessing the date was canceled. She's probably at a frat party instead."

I asked, "Should we do this again another night?"

Dany took some time to answer. Her eyes scanned the darkness, as if looking over her options. "No," she said. "I want to end this now."

Dany took out her phone. "I've been following Anthony on Tinder, too," she said. "If he's riled up for a date, he's not going to leave until he gets what he wants."

She began swiping. I tried not to stare, but I was curious about who was popping up on her account. It seemed to be men like Anthony, approaching middle-age but still fit. A lot of them were holding footballs or standing on top of boulders. Finally she found her target. She swiped right.

"It's a match," she said with a grim smile. As she texted, she read aloud to me. "I can be there in... twenty minutes. See you soon big boy."

I was aghast. "Wait, you're going in there?"

Danika nodded. "That's why you're here. I can't be the guy's date and take pictures." She thought for a minute. "Well, I guess I could, but that would be pretty suspicious."

"Is this legal? Is it allowed? Aren't you, technically, the one forcing him to cheat?" I noticed my voice was high, and my heart was beating fast. I couldn't believe what I'd gotten myself into.

Danika shook her head. "Anthony's a philanderer. If he's not fucking a freshman girl, he's fucking someone else. Just take pictures and don't make any noise."

She stood up from the tailgate and stretched, rolling her long neck. "I'm going to change in the cab. Don't look."

I kept my eye instead on the camera, and on Anthony. He was pacing excitedly now, checking his phone for new messages. I'll admit, I felt a little bad for the guy. He looked like a puppy about to go for a walk. He didn't realize that the woman holding the leash was also going to neuter him.

I glanced back for a moment, forgetting what Danika told me. I saw her silhouette in the truck cab. She took off her fedora, then reached up and removed her hair. I looked away, ashamed of myself. Danika wearing a wig was none of my business. But it did add to her mysterious aires. Finally, I heard the car door open. Danika walked out.

She wasn't wearing her trench coat or baggy clothes anymore. Instead, she wore a black tank-top exposing her slender stomach and jean shorts ripped just below the crotch. She had another wig on, a long red wig tied back into a bun with two chopsticks through it. She wore librarian-style glasses down her slender nose. She looked completely different, like a graduate student attending a rave. I would not have recognized her for the woman I'd been sitting with just twenty minutes ago.

"Don't stare too long," she said in her humorless voice. "And don't get any ideas."

It was too late. My heart was racing, and the excitement of being out late at night with a beautiful woman, spying on a man fucking around with college students was having an effect on me. I hoped Dany couldn't see the obvious swelling of my cock inside my pants. I took some deep breaths.

Danika told me to wait until she was inside, then take pictures through any exposed window. "We want pictures of anything that shows obvious cheating. The more salacious, the better."

I had to only wonder at what lengths this detective would go. I would soon find out.

Danika strutted down the block. Even her walk was different, a kind of bouncy runway-model trot that made her ass and breasts bounce. She knocked at the door at the end of the cul-de-sac, which opened immediately. She stepped inside.

I trained my camera through the distant window. Anthony held Dany's hand in his. He kissed the back of it. I took pictures. Dany laughed, her face showing emotions I hadn't seen all night. She looked at him coyly, then purposefully turned around to look at whatever Walmart portraits were in the photo frames. She looked like an animal in heat, exposing her tightly-bound ass to this alpha male.

Anthony approached Dany from behind. He put his hands on her hips and kissed the side of her neck. He continued to kiss her and he turned her body around, pressing it to the wall. His kisses were deep and aggressive. His hands roamed over her body, grabbing at her breasts inside the flimsy top, circling and taking a handful of her ass.

Click. Click. Click click click. I took pictures.

Danika, meanwhile, was not playing the innocent. She too was aggressively grabbing at Anthony's body. Through my lense, I saw her reach down and unzip his pants. She reached in and started massaging his cock.

Anthony took a step back. He looked around the room suspiciously, then looked right at me! "Oh, shit!" I scrambled down into the truck bed.

Anthony approached the living-room window. He grabbed the curtains at either side and pulled them shut.

I realized quickly that, despite my racing heart, I was in no danger. I was sitting in the dark an entire block away from Anthony. Furthermore, the darkness outside must have turned the window into a mirror. Still, I'd have to find another window to take pictures through.

I leapt down from the truck and ran as quietly as I could towards the house. A narrow path led through a gate to the tiny backyard. I slowly opened the gate and crept into the backyard. It was mostly a concrete patio with a brick barbecue and three square feet of grass. There was a sliding glass door (blinds pulled shut) and a small kitchen window. However, the height of the window would keep me from seeing anything but Anthony and Danika's heads.

I climbed up onto the brick barbecue, thankful that no motion-sensing lights were turned on. From this height, I could see through the small window into the kitchen and the living room beyond. I brought up my camera and adjusted the zoom.

Danika sat in a loveseat I hadn't seen from my previous angle. She had her top off, her pert breasts exposed. She had large, dark rosy nipples. Anthony stood a small distance from her. She was obviously teasing him, telling him to stay across the room while she undressed. She kneaded her breasts and pinched her nipples, which stood out between her fingertips.

I saw Danika glance briefly towards the kitchen window. I took a quick picture, knowing a small green light would shine for a moment. She winked. I realized then that Danika had moved to the loveseat once the curtains had been closed in order to set up this shot. I really had the perfect angle, from the kitchen through a short hallway. And with my camera zoom, it was like I was standing in the room with Anthony and Dany.

Dany crooked a finger towards Anthony. He walked forward, already topless. I whistled silently to myself. The man definitely had kept in shape. He had pecs and abs that looked carved from stone. His hairy arms and shoulders showed coiled muscles.

Dany unlooped Anthony's belt, unbuttoned his pants, and took out his cock. Again, I was taken aback. The man didn't just have big muscles, he had a huge cock. Its length wasn't that great, but its girth was tremendous. Danika too looked surprised. She glanced from the quickly swelling cock up to Anthony's face, and then for a brief moment gave a glance out to the kitchen window.

I realized I hadn't taken a picture in a while. I started clicking away.

Danika took the cock by its base and brought the head of it to her lips. Just before the cock could slide between her full lips, she paused. She grinned up at Anthony, then began licking the head of his cock just with the tip of her tongue. She tickled the bottom of the head for a bit, then traced circles around the based of the head. Meanwhile, the cock swelled and swelled. I'd been surprised when Dany had pulled a banana-sized dick from the man's pants. But now it was the thickness of one of those big plantains.

Danika started moving her hand up and down just the base of the cock. Meanwhile, her lips stretched out and she took the head of the cock into her mouth. She started bobbing her head, taking barely a new quarter inch of dick into her mouth each time she came down. Every once in a while she paused, looking up into Anthony's eyes.

Anthony reached for Dany's head, but she pulled back, the cock popping out of her mouth. I could see saliva dripping from its girth. Dany shook her head, grinning lopsidedly. I wasn't sure what she said, but I knew Danika could control others easily. Anthony, following orders, put his hands behind his back.

Danika pulled Anthony's pants down to his ankles. He wore plain gray boxer briefs, and his huge cock stood out like an elephant's trunk. Dany started licking the bottom of the cock from base to head. Once, twice, then again she would grab the base of the cock and take its head between her red lips. Each time she licked the cock, it grew harder and fatter. Each time she took the cock in her mouth, she took a little more. The cock was covered in saliva, and before long Dany had most of it down her throat, still massaging the base of it. She held the cock in her throat for a timeless moment. I could see her throat swallowing, massaging the head. Finally she pulled back, gasping. Thick ropes of saliva hang from the glistening dick, and dribbled down Dany's chin. She started running her hand up and down Anthony's cock. Wet with saliva, her hand slid easily, though her fingers barely closed around its girth.

Meanwhile, Anthony was going crazy. He kept trying to reach out for Dany's head, but each time his hands came out from behind his back she would stop. His cock twiched, and for a moment his face would turn in anger. But inevitable he listened to Dany's commands.

Nevermind the effects on me!

If seeing Dany dressed like a college slut had made my cock leap into action, seeing her take a huge dick deep in her throat was almost causing a tear in my jeans. In my crouched position, my erection was pressed up against my belly. Every time I moved, the sensitive head rubbed against my underwear and jeans. I was honestly worried I was going to cream myself on the first night of my new job. But I kept my hands on my camera and kept taking pictures.

Through my lense I saw Danny stroking Anthony's cock. His hips started bucking. She placed her lips, open, at the head of his cock and held both hands around its girth. He started sliding his cock in and out of her hands and mouth, thrusting deep into her throat then pulling out again. And I swear to you, it looked like Anthony wasn't the only one enjoying himself. There was a light in Danika's eyes that I hadn't seen all night. In her office and in the car, Danika was wrapped in her trench coat and her mystery tightly. The way she spoke, too, was without emotion, as if any crack in her control would spell disaster. But as she took more and more of the cock thrusting into her mouth, Danika looked released. Her cheeks were flushed, and her breasts bounced with her breath.

Finally Dany pulled the cock from her mouth and started stroking it faster and faster. I could see her mouthing something to Anthony. I imaged her saying, "Cum for me, baby. Cum all over for me!"

Even from the backyard I heart Anthony's release. Like a primal scream, his groan seemed to rattle the windows. From my camera, I watched as loads of cum shot from his cock. Danika had moved to the side, and the cum shot onto the wall and the loveseat. I couldn't believe how much cum was pouring out of the man. She kept stroking his cock, tightening her grip to get every last drop of cum out. Finally, Anthony collapsed to his knees. Released, he lay down on the living room carpet.

Danika stepped over Anthony's body and headed to the kitchen. I continued to watch her topless form through my camera lense, though I was done taking pictures. She washed her hands at the sink and gave a meaningful glance into the backyard. It was time to go.

However, behind her, I saw Anthony stand back up. He took off his boxers (stained all over with cum now) and walked into the kitchen. I couldn't believe it. His cock was starting to swell again. Even in the backyard, I could hear him say, "Time for round two. Take off your pants, sweetheart."

Dany turned around at the sink. In front of her, Anthony's cock was at half-mast. Anthony grinned and said, "This time I'm in charge. I want you to bend over the sink and spread your ass cheeks."

Danika shook her head. I heard her voice, muffled by the window glass, reply, "I'm all done for tonight, baby. Giving you head got me off. I need to get back to my studies."

Anthony shook his head. "I don't think so. You had a good time telling me what to you. Now your ass is mine."

All the talk of power was getting to him. His cock stood up straight and hard again as if he hadn't just cummed buckets in the living room. He started walking towards Danika.

Again, Dany said no. "I'm done for tonight. Let me go."

She started to edge around Anthony, but the kitchen was small. He laughed and pushed her back to the sink. Then he reached over to the counter and grabbed a knife. "How about a little roleplay? You're a real estate agent getting a house ready, and I'm an intruder looking for action. You need to close the deal by opening up those ass cheeks."

Dany gave a wild look out the kitchen window. My heart was pounding and my erection was entirely gone. I quickly fumbled with my camera, then aimed at the window.

FLASH!

The light erupted over the backyard and into the kitchen. Anthony looked up towards the window. "What the hell?" he asked. Once again I took a picture with the flash on. Anthony raised a hand over his eyes, blinking rapidly. "Is there someone out there? Taking pictures?" His confusion started to turn to anger as red blushed over his face.

Danika didn't waste a moment. She aimed a well-placed kick at the giant between Anthony's legs. He groaned one last time and collapsed to the floor. Dany aimed a second kick at his face, then ran to the living room. She grabbed her top and ran out the door.

I, too, was running towards the front yard. Together, we charged towards the truck. I jumped into the driver's seat as Dany hopped into the passenger's. In the rearview mirror I could see Anthony standing slumped in the lit front door. My truck gave a shot, a whine, and a cough- and then died. Silent but for the frogs.

"Shit!" Dany swore. "Start the fucking car!"

Anthony started walking towards us. Moonlight glinted from the knife in his hand.

I turned the key again. I heard the shot, the whine, the cough- and then the grumpy rumble of the engine. I slammed the accelerator and we shot down the block, half on the sidewalk half on the road.

At each turn away from the cul-de-sac, my heart slowed a little.

Danika, too, was calming down in the passenger's seat. I heard her deep breaths, in through her nose and out through her mouth.

We slowly wound our way through the night, back towards her office. Once again, Danika navigated. For some time, those were the only words between us.

I felt, though, like I needed to talk about the evening. Flashes of the night, like pictures in my camera, kept popping up before my eyes. Danika on her knees. Her hands pumping cum from the broad cock. Anthony holding the knife.

"Danika, I-"

"Dany."

"What?" I asked.

"Dany," she replied. "Those close to me call me Dany."

"Okay. Dany, I... I'm glad you're okay."

"Me too," Dany replied, once again in her voice without emotions. "You did good, kid. Now keep your eyes on the road, I'm going to change."

And beside me, Dany undressed. I kept my eyes on the road, but my brain was busy analyzing what was happening in the side of my vision. Dany reached up and took off the red wig. In a sudden streetlight, I saw her natural hair, cut very short, with a large mean-looking scar running halfway across her scalp. I tried not to see anything else after that.

Part Three: Consequences

Back in her office, Danika counted out a stack of hundreds and passed them to me.

"Let's upload the photos, and then I've just got paperwork to do."

She cleared a space for my camera on her crowded desk, then plugged it in and clicked 'Upload All.'

"There are some, um, non-professional pictures on there," I told Dany, thinking of the photography assignments of trees, flowers, and architecture.

"I'll sift through them," Dany said. Idly, she picked up something black from her desk. "You ever use one of these?"

It was a revolver, black and shiny. Involuntarily, I took a small step back. "No! But why didn't you bring that tonight?"

Dany shook her head. "If I had shot the guy, we wouldn't get paid." She gave a little snort and a half-smile. "I guess you shot him instead."​