Dir Saber P.i.: the Cucold Cutie

Delores sat on her office couch, stroking her pussy, red fingernails languidly slipping through the blond fur. Her full red lips bent in a frown, and said, "I'm not putting that in my mouth after it's been in your pants all day."

"Suit yourself." Dirk popped the wintergreen mint into his own mouth. "My pants are clean."

He pointed at her lap, "Cleaner than your pussy."

Her Persian cat, Clitty, purred loudly with satisfaction.

"My cat doesn't go in my mouth, and I wash my hands."

Changing the subject, he asked, "So Delores, how's business?"

Delores used to make a fortune, providing transvestites to married men, until she went straight. Now she just ran an escort service with women.

"Not so good. The economy is killing me. Men just don't want to pay for women anymore. I may have to go back to the closet crowd."

"Can't blame them. Money's scarce. Women aren't."

Changing the subject, again, Delores said, "Your Dick is getting big."

Rubbing his head appreciatively, Dirk said, "Saint Bernard's grow fast. He's only six months old."

Dick was a replacement for his dog, Gigolo, who died in a shootout with a wife-beater. Gigolo had been a good guard dog and a loyal friend, but stupid in the ways of firearms. Dirk was hoping his new Dick would offer the same level of protection, but it was too soon to tell. He was still trying to housebreak him.

Clitty, the kitty, eyed Dick with suspicion. Dick just wagged with unbridled enthusiasm, ready for action.

"What brings you here, Dirk?"

"Tell me about your new girl, Beatrice."

Delores smiled seductively, "Why... do you want a date?"

"You know I'm not into the skinny model type. That's why I like you, Delores."

A low, mischievous laugh escaped her sagging jowls, as she reached for a bowl filled with unwrapped Tootsie Rolls.

"I AM built for comfort, not speed."

As she popped the confection into her mouth, Dirk spotted a Clitty hair stuck to it. His stomach rumbled unpleasantly.

"Back to business. Where's Beatrice?"

"I don't know. She doesn't work here. Too uptight."

"Whaddya mean, too uptight?"

"Her first clients complained about her insensitivity. She had a threesome scheduled with a dwarf couple, but when he got naked she laughed out loud. Made him feel small. Bad business karma." Delores scratched Clitty under the chin, before asking, "Why do you want to find her?"

"Her husband wants her to come home."

"I didn't know she was married. A married hooker, now that's very unusual. What's the rest of the story?"

"That's confidential. Do you know where I can find her?"

"I have a phone number... somewhere." With great effort, Delores stretched forward to the coffee table and grabbed a little black book. Clitty refused to move from her soft thighs, and disappeared under pendulous breasts. The neck of the red Mumu bloused open, revealing watermelon-size tits.

"Nice flash," said Dirk, as he readied his cell phone.

Sitting back with a grunt, Delores offered, "Twenty bucks and I'll let you play with them."

"Not today. I've got work to do."

"I hate focused men," said Delores, paging through the book. "Here it is."

Dirk entered the number into his contacts list as she read. "Thanks Delores, have a nice day" he said, heading for the door. "Don't rub all the fur off your Clitty."

"Have a good day, Dirk. Don't play with your Dick all day."

The elevator was broken, so Dirk and Dick took the stairs. They surprised a couple involved in a coffee break quickie on the first floor landing.

"Cute dog," said the pretty redhead, as her playmate turned away and zipped up. "What's his name?"

"Big Dick," Dirk said in passing.

Dick sniffed something interesting, and Dirk had to yank him away from her legs.

The pretty redhead laughed, and turned to her lover, "Wow, look Stanley, another big dick."

Dirk didn't tarry. He was out on the sidewalk before Stanley could answer.

"What're we going to do now, Dick? Do you think she'll answer her phone?"

Dick wagged his affirmative, so Dirk dialed Beatrice, but got her voicemail.

"Hi Beatrice, my name is Dirk. Delores gave me your number. I was wondering if you'd be available for a matinee this afternoon." He left is cell number.

Dirk only walked a block, before his phone vibrated in his pocket. He whipped it out, and answered, "Hello."

"Hi Dirk... this is Beatrice."

Her voice trembled when she spoke, but it had a husky tone that touched Dirk's crotch like a peacock feather.

"Beatrice, I'm in town until this evening. I was wondering if you'd keep me company until I catch my flight."

After a slight hesitation, Beatrice said, "Sure, Honey. Where are you staying?"

"I'm staying at the Waldork Asstoria. Meet me at the bar at..." he looked at his Timex, and noticed it stopped ticking. "2:00 for a drink?"

"Sure, Honey. How will I know you?"

"I'll be the guy with the Saint Bernard."

Beatrice's voice squeaked, "A dog?"

"Don't worry. He doesn't bite."

She cleared her throat, and explained, "I'm not into the kinky stuff."

"Oh! I didn't mean... He's just a pet. I wasn't expecting--"

Beatrice laughed in relief, "Good. See you at 2:00," and hung up.

The Waldork was only four blocks away. He had a two hours wait, so Dirk got a room to relax. It was a pet friendly place, the only one in downtown Frickville. In the past, it proved to be a nice place to stash his dog if he needed to do some reconnoitering.

Once in the room, Dirk called his client to give him an update.

"Hello, Mr. Blundergas? This is Dirk Saber."

"Dude! Did you find the bitch yet?"

Dirk didn't care much for Mr. Blundergas, but money was money.

"I'm meeting her at 2:00. Anything special you want me to say to her?"

In a calmer voice, Mr. Blundergas said, "Tell her... Tell her I forgive her, and I want her to come home. Tell her... Snake wants me to join the band. What happened between them was just... biology."

Shaking his head at no one in the room, Dirk replied, "How 'bout I just tell her to call you."

"Okay. Good idea. Thanks, man."

"No problemo, talk to you later." Dirk hung up. Why did Blundergas want the skank back? He would never understand people's stupidity.

At 2:00, Dirk sat at the bar, sipping a Fuzzy Navel, hoping this meeting would end happily ever after before Oprah came on. He wanted to see Mel Gibson grovel like a repentant, born again dirt-bag.

At 2:15 a blonde woman entered, spotted his dog Dick, and meandered over. She sat on the empty stool beside him, and said, "Nice dog. What's his name?"

"Dick."

"He's big."

"I get that all the time. He seems to get bigger every time I pet him." As he spoke, Dirk assessed Beatrice's appearance. Heavy eye makeup didn't disguise her red eyes. Had she been crying, or was she stoned? None of his business. She wore tight jeans and a wrinkled red blouse that looked like she slept in it. Her blouse was unbuttoned to reveal deep cleavage created by one of those wonder bras. Nice, ivory skin.

Looking further down, he noticed she wore flip-flops and her feet were dirty. "You want something to drink?"

"No thanks, gave it up. Alcohol is sin in a bottle."

"Sin? That's pretty judgmental considering your line of work."

"I'm sorry," she said, with a pre-cry tremble in her voice. "I have no right to say things like that. I'm just a whore." Then tears flowed in earnest.

Hating public scenes, Dirk took her arm and Dick's leash, saying, "Come on. Let's go to my room."

Beatrice grabbed a bar napkin, smeared her mascara, and mumbled, "Okay, lets get this over with."

Funny, she didn't fake her sexual desire like he expected a prostitute would. She wasn't very good at this whoring thing. Dirk secretly sniffed his armpit. It didn't stink.

In the elevator, Beatrice regained her composure and got down to the deal. "I want $50 for straight sex. I have condoms if you don't. I don't do oral or anal. You have to pay me up front. No kissing."

Sarcastically, Dirk asked, "Will you take your clothes off?"

"All of them?"

Dirk smiled, looked her up and down, and said, "Of course."

She trembled and hugged herself, like the elevator suddenly became a refrigerator.

He should've come clean, and told Beatrice to call her husband, but there seemed more to this situation. He was intrigued, and Oprah was being recorded at home.

Dirk unlocked the room door and pushed it open. "After you."

"Do you mind if I take a shower first?"

"Really? No, I don't care. I have all night." He picked up the phone. "I'm hungry. Want anything?"

"Didn't you say you had to catch a flight tonight?"

"Change of plans."

"Well, I can't stay all night. I have a bus to catch at 6:00."

Dirk dialed room service, and asked Beatrice, "Yeah? Where you going?"

"Kentucky."

"What's in Kentucky?"

"I'm going back to my parents."

Room service answered. Dirk ordered chicken wings and two beers. Again he asked Beatrice, "Hungry? It'll be my treat."

She bit her lip, and then said, "Thanks, I'm starved. I'd like a cheeseburger with no onions, fries, and a diet Coke."

Dirk relayed the order, hung up, and turned to Beatrice saying, "Thanks for the 'no onion' part."

Blushing and grinning shyly, Beatrice turned into the bathroom, and said, "You're welcome."

She was pretty when she smiled.

The food arrived before Beatrice was out of the shower. Dirk knocked and yelled, "Foods getting cold."

"I'll be right out."

Dirk turned on Fox news, even though he wasn't fair or balanced. His dog, Dick, sat at the foot of the bed and begged for a handout. He tossed him one of Beatrice's French fries. "Be a good Dick, and lay down."

As Dirk sucked barbecue sauce from his fingers, Beatrice stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed. A wave of disappointment washed over him, and he found himself wishing he wasn't on the job.

"Just in time. Dick was about to grab your cheeseburger."

"I'm so hungry; I'd eat Dick if he did." She took a big bite of burger and groaned in satisfying consummation.

"You said you wouldn't do oral."

"Huh?"

"Never mind."

They ate in silence while the headlines played.

When Beatrice finished her meal she fell backwards onto the mattress and sighed. Dirk picked up the tray and put it out in the hallway.

"So, Beatrice, how long have you been doing this sort of thing," he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Her eyes remained closed. "Not long."

"How'd you get started? To be honest, this line of work doesn't seem to suit you."

"My ex-fiancé started it. It was all his fault."

Fiancé? So they weren't married, after all. "How does that happen?"

"Why do you care?" she said, sleepily. After the hot shower and food, she was ready for a nap, not sex. Her defenses were down.

Dirk tried to sound sympathetic. "I don't know. Just curious. You're an attractive, smart girl. Seems like you could do better."

The silence lasted so long, Dirk thought she fell asleep.

"A couple nights ago, I got really drunk... Curtis... Curtis Blundergas, that's my ex... what a name... I almost became Bea Blundergas. He gave me away like a poker chip, just to get a tryout in a band. I was so wasted I thought it was Curtis fucking me. The room was pitch black. It felt good. I came two, three times. Then Curtis turned on the light and he called me a slut. I guess I wasn't supposed to like it so much. So... now I'm a whore. I might as well get paid for it."

Dirk shook his head in disgust. "That sucks. Curtis is an asshole. That doesn't make you a whore."

"No?"

"No." Then Dirk had to ask, "How many times have you had sex for money since?"

"Well... this would be the first time. I bailed on the last client. I couldn't stop laughing at the tiny..." she giggled just thinking about the dwarf cock, "never mind. I don't want to talk about it." She sat up and started unbuttoning her blouse. "Let's do it. I need the money to get home."

Dirk held up his hand, "Stop. You can leave your clothes on, and keep your dignity. I'll give you the money, and you pay me back whenever you can."

Beatrice undid the last button. Pulled off her shirt, and said, "No, we made a deal. Deal's a deal. I don't want anything hanging over my head, once I leave this frickin' town."

She looked tempting in her white bra. Nice handfuls, with nipples poking through the thin lace. Dirk's willpower slipped a notch. Taking a deep breath, he said, "No, I can't. I'd be taking advantage of your situation."

"Bullshit!" Beatrice got up and grabbed the dog by his collar. "Dick, come." She closed him in the bathroom, and returned, turning off "fair and balanced" TV on the way by, seemingly unafraid.

Life was definitely not fair, and Dirk was definitely off balance.

Beatrice undressed completely, while looking in the mirror. Their eyes met several times in the reflection. Her skin blushed prettily.

After pulling back the covers, Beatrice threw a wrapped condom next to Dirk, and then lay on her back, arms at her side, eyes closed.

"Just seeing you naked is worth the fifty bucks." Dirk got up and pulled out his wallet. "Okay, let's renegotiate. How much would it cost to kiss you while we do it?"

Beatrice didn't open her eyes, or say anything. She just shrugged.

"Open your eyes, Bea." When she did, Dirk waved five $100 dollar bills, and put them in her pants pocket. "You tell me when my money's run out. Okay?"

No comment. She just closed her eyes, again.

Dirk went into the bathroom, and showered. He had to let his dog, Dick, out of the bathroom to stay cool. Dirk took his time, while listening for the hall door to open and close. It didn't. Wearing just his boxers, Dirk reentered the room, expecting to find himself alone or find Beatrice asleep. Instead, she was sitting up against the headboard, reading a hotel magazine called Fun Things in Frickville. It was a very thin magazine.

His Dick lay on the bed beside her, loving how Beatrice's hand rubbed his head.

She patted the mattress in welcome. "About time."

"Beatrice, I have a confession to make." Dirk's guilty conscious got the better of him. "I'm a P. I. that Curtis hired to find you. He wants you to come home. He forgives you." Dirk held out his cell phone. "Curtis wants you to call him."

Her shocked look and tears broke Dirk's heart. Sometimes he hated his job.

Suddenly, Beatrice grabbed the phone. She bounced off the bed and started pacing from the door to the window, while dialing and listening for an answer.

Dirk and Dick both watched the flesh parade intently, but with different desires.

"Hello Curtis, you shithead! No, I won't listen to you. You're an asshole. I'm through with you. I never want to lay eyes on you again, EVER! I hope you go deaf and your fingers fall off." Slamming the cell phone closed, she tossed it to Dirk. "You think he got the message?"

Dirk smirked. "Probably."

"Come, Dick", commanded Beatrice. The dog followed her to the bathroom, and got locked up for his obedience.

She returned to the bed, pushed Dirk onto his back, and straddled his waist, saying, "Now let's get down to business." Her pussy rubbed along the growing length of his cock through his boxers.

Sometime Dirk loved his job. All night long, dick and come had a whole new meaning. The old Kentucky home waited an extra day.