I suppose it's because I don't have anybody to lose that I have one hell of a problem understanding how anybody loses anybody. They'll sit in the chair across from my desk and tell me how the person they lost track of was the best friend they ever had and they really want to find them again but they don't have a goddamned clue about where the fuck they went.
Now, how in the hell do you lose somebody like that? It's not like one day they're standing there and then just disappear, well, unless you believe little gray aliens sucked them up in their people sucker-upper and took them off to their mother ship for a few rectal exams.
How did the fuck did that get started anyway, the thing with aliens looking up your ass? What would they expect to find up there besides what's really there? Maybe they all have some weird fetish, fuck if I know, but it seems they'd have better places to stick their noses in. Never in my life have I had any desire to stick my nose up some woman's ass. Her pussy, definitely, but not her ass. Well, sometimes my nose ends up in her ass if she's on top of me, but that's not because that's where I put my nose. It's because my nose is where she sat on my face.
People who have supposedly been taken by aliens and had probes shoved up their asses all describe aliens in pretty much the same way. They're short little fuckers with big heads, big eyes, and skinny bodies. None of them are female. Well, they don't seem to be female anyway. I mean, you never hear about a fucking alien with tits, so there must not be any female aliens. Of course, you never hear about aliens having a cock and balls either.
Maybe they're both and don't need to fuck to reproduce. Maybe it just happens, like, one day a little gray baby alien just pops out. I don't know how the little fucker would pop out, though, unless there's something to pop out of, but you never see an alien with a pussy. Since they never wear clothes in the pictures people draw of them, you'd think a pussy would be hard to hide.
I suppose aliens might all be male, and might keep their cocks and balls inside for safe keeping. I mean, getting up to light speed in a flying saucer would stretch your cock and balls more than a two-dollar hooker and probably hurt like hell. It would make sense if their cocks and balls were inside, like a duck's. I always figured a duck's cock was inside so it wouldn't freeze off in winter. That's a hell of a thought, isn't it, you're just walking around eating corn people throw on the ground for you and your cock freezes solid and then falls off?
Anyway, I've never understood why people just up and disappear. Usually when I find them, they had a reason to do that, and sometimes they're not interested in going back. Sometimes the reason doesn't even make sense. I've heard, "Every night it was the same old thing - 'I'll suck your cock and then you lick me and fuck me' -- when sometimes I just wanted to hold her", "Her tits are too little", and "He couldn't understand that I like girls too".
Those are all bullshit reasons, in my opinion. I mean, having my cock sucked isn't my favorite thing in the whole world, but I wouldn't fucking complain about it if I got to lick her pussy and then fuck her every night. I wouldn't want to just hold her either. No man with a set of balls would actually want to do that unless it was gonna lead to the sucking, licking, and fucking later on.
I like big tits on a woman, but after you turn fifty, you pretty much take what you can get, so I'm kinda starting to like little tits. They're fun and sometimes big tits get in the way anyway.
As for that last one, why is it women just can't come right out and fucking say what they want? That's why we invented language -- so people could say what they want. I mean, if she said, "You know, I like licking pussy as much as I like being fucked", I sure as hell wouldn't tell her she couldn't. I'd just go out and buy one of those spy cams and hide it in the bedroom, and then tell her she should invite her girlfriend over more often.
Sometimes the reasons do make sense, like the woman who broke up with her boyfriend and then moved to a different state. When I found her, she said she wasn't going back and she'd sue me if I told her ex-boyfriend where she was. To put it in her words -
"If you tell that little cocksucker where I live now, I'll sue your fucking ass until you have to ask me before you can take a shit. I couldn't feel his little dick in me and he always wanted me to blow him. Yeah, right, like I was supposed to like sucking on something the size of a hot dog. You think he'd do me the same favor? Hell no, he wouldn't. He wouldn't get his tongue anywhere near my pussy. The puny little bastard wouldn't even finger me. Wish he had. His fingers were bigger than his dick."
I thought that was pretty goddamned rude. I mean, it wasn't like I'd asked to fuck her in the ass. I could have understood how that might piss her off, but all I did was find her and tell her her boyfriend wanted her to come back. The other thing was, once I did, I couldn't figure out why the guy wanted her goddamned ass back in the first place.
Melba was no prize. Women classify their bodies like they're fruit. There's the apple, and the pear, the hourglass and the banana. Well, the hourglass isn't a fruit but the rest are. Apples have big tits and little asses. Pears are the opposite with little tits and a big ass. Hourglass women have big tits and big asses, and bananas don't have any tits or asses to speak of. My favorites are the hourglass women, but all women can all be hot. Well, I like my bananas to have at least some tits, but I wouldn't kick any of them out of bed if I could get them there.
Melba didn't really fit any of those. She was more like a dipper gourd. She wasn't fat, well, except for her ass. She was skinny as a rail everywhere else. Like I said before, I don't mind little tits. I do like a woman to have something more than nipples though, and it looked to me like that's about all Melba had.
Now, Wilbur was no prize either. Wilbur was about five feet three and probably weighed in at something around three fifty, so maybe he figured she was the best he'd ever get. After seeing him and then seeing Melba, I had to wonder how they ever fucked in the first place. Unless his cock was about a foot and a half long, it's no wonder Melba couldn't feel it. Mine wouldn't have made it much deeper than her ass cheeks.
Anyway, I don't know how people lose each other. I'm glad they do though because that's a lot of how I earn my living. That's what I was starting to do with Chastity Meadows.
Chastity had walked into my office one afternoon, gave me a little smile, and asked if I ever found people who'd gone missing. I said I'd found several, and she sighed.
"Oh, I was hoping you'd say that. I want to find Maxine."
I decided to get my fee out of the way first. Chastity was wearing pretty simple and really plain clothes, and I wasn't sure she could afford me. I'm pretty cheap as PI's go, but she was wearing regular jeans that were actually the dark blue that jeans are supposed to be and they didn't have any holes. Her blouse was OK, but it was just a blouse with no lace or anything girly.
Most of the woman who come to my office have paid twice as much for their jeans as I pay for a bottle of Glenfiddich even though the jeans look like they've been run over by a Mac truck several times. They don't wear cotton blouses either. They wear those tops that hug their tits and have sparkly shit all over them. Those cost was much as I pay for a carton of cigarettes.
I gave her my best smile.
"I'll be happy to do that for you. My fee is three hundred a day with two days in advance."
"Oh, thank goodness", she said. "I was worried it would be more than that. I brought a thousand dollars with me if you can take travelers's checks. I was afraid to go to an ATM to get the money so I went inside the bank and bought traveler's checks. People get robbed at ATM's all the time, you know."
Well, I'd never heard of anyone in Nashville getting robbed at an ATM, but I suppose it has happened. Every other goddamned thing you can think of has. I told her traveler's checks would be fine. She pulled out her book of checks, signed enough to pay me six hundred, and then handed them to me. I put them in my desk drawer and then picked up my notebook.
"OK, Miss. I need your name, address, and phone number. That's so I know how to reach you when I find your missing person."