Case of the Murdered Lovers

The chronological order of my stories to read is:

Todd & Melina series.

Interludes 1-5

Sperm Wars series 1-4.

Russian Roulette series 1-2 (may not yet be published)

Case of the Murdered Lovers

So.... let's see if soap-opera-police-dramas with sex are of interest to Literotica readers...

This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.

Feedback and

constructive

criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.

Part 1 - Prologue

The stud grunted as he pistoned his huge cockmeat in and out of the sopping cunt beneath him, driving into the mature blonde beauty again and again with powerful thrusts, withdrawing but a third of his ten inch length only to slam forward again until their pelvises smashed together.

Their mutual groans and gasps of pleasure mixed with the staccato slaps of flesh on flesh and the squeaking of the bedsprings in protest of the abuse they were taking, betraying the hot desires the couple felt as they rutted lustily. They were fucking as if they instinctively knew it might be the last time they would ever copulate so lustily and become one with the gods again... and they were right.

The mixture of sounds masked the slight creak of the stairs in the hallway outside the bedroom as well as the bedroom door being slowly opened. They were too busy to notice: the young stud felt his nut rising, and having given the fifty-year-old woman beneath him at least two hard orgasms, he did not try to hold back the rushing torrent of deeply painful ecstasy that signaled his rapidly approaching climax. Sweat rolled off his back and temples as he pounded his beautiful, mature lover harder and harder, driving relentlessly to reach the crest and achieve the release his aching balls craved.

He grunted loudly as his cock began spurting his man-lava deep into the older woman's well-fucked vagina, his head thrown back in the throes of total ecstasy. The gray mist before his eyes suddenly flashed bright white, then... nothing.

He never heard the shotgun detonation just six inches from the back of his head.

The woman had been enjoying the sensation of the younger man coming inside her, feeling him empty his wet essence into the depths of her fiery loins when she suddenly was overwhelmed by the twin sensations of a ringing deafness and the heavy weight of her lover's body collapsing onto her, trapping her beneath him. Groggily confused, she looked over his right shoulder just in time to make out the hole that led down the barrel of the shotgun. The beginnings of her scream were lost in a white flash as the shotgun fired directly into her beautiful face.

Part 2 - The Crime Scene

I groaned as I felt Britt Maxwell's mouth engulf my cock, her lips sliding down the shaft to my aching balls. I sat back on the sofa of her apartment, enjoying the sensations of the blowjob the absolutely gorgeous policewoman was giving me.

It was about 11:30 pm on a beautiful early-Spring Friday night. My wife Melina and Dr. Laura Fredricson were at a symposium on sexual research in San Francisco, and Laura was giving one of the presentations. So I had asked Lieutenant Brittany Maxwell out for an evening of dinner and drinks, which she happily accepted. She looked lovely and incredibly hot in a white, frilly low-cut blouse and push-up bra that not only showed off her luscious breasts but promised their enjoyment later, and baggy white pants with stirrups with a navy blue belt and navy blue high heel pumps. After a great meal at one of the nicer restaurants in the affluent northwest section of Town, we went to a quiet bar for drinks and conversation.

Despite the chill in the air we sat outside on the balcony overlooking a small lake, enjoying some flirtatious talk. I admired Britt's shapely feet in the high heel pumps, her hourglass figure, her inviting breasts... but most of all the bright twinkle of her eyes, which outsparkled the glints of light from her wineglass.

The conversation turned to flirting and the beginnings of making love. As our light touching and gentle kisses began to turn into my nuzzling Britt's neck as she felt my cock through my pants, we knew we needed to get out of there, and Britt invited me back to her apartment. Though nothing was said, we both knew that we were going to spend the night making love, lustily copulating in deliciously sinful sexual pleasure...

As she leaned over my left leg to suck my cock, I felt Britt's breasts pressing through her blouse onto my thigh. I enjoyed the sensations of pleasure and warmth that shot up my spine from my turgid meat as she fellated my rock-hard cock, and I thought with great anticipation about taking Britt into the bedroom, stripping her naked, mounting her and sinking into her depths, and fucking her with raw lust and abandon. My cock throbbed in Britt's mouth as I admired her body, thinking of the enjoyment of sucking and tonguing her pretty feet that would be coming while fucking her. My balls began the first rumblings that would ultimately lead to a deep, satisfying climax, and---

*BRRRRINNNGGGG!!!!*

Shit. It was Britt's cell phone. Her mouth slid off my cock as her head jerked upright. I knew she had to answer it as it was her University Police phone. As she answered it, the lonely feeling of my wet cock waving in the air was supplanted by the feeling of my own cell phone vibrating in my pants pocket and then ringing.

On my phone was Detective Tanya Perlman. "There's been a double murder at the Heritage Condos" she reported. The Heritage Condos were among the most expensive properties in the county. Some of the University's benefactors, the rich alumni, owned condos there.

"I'll be right there." I said after Tanya gave a few more details. Britt was finishing her call at the same time. "That was Dr. Wellman" she said, mentioning the name of the University president. "The wife of one of our Alumni Board members was murdered."

"Heritage Condos?" I asked. Britt nodded. "I just got the call, too." I said. "Let's go."

---------------------------

We drove together to the condos, which were just east of the twin buildings of the University Hotel and the Tower Condos. The Heritage Condos were just off the Campus property line, at the base of the hills upon which my home "The Cabin" was built. A blaze of blue lights from the police vehicles bathed the parking lot between two rows of condos.

We were admitted into the cordoned off area by Patrolman Pete Feeley. Feeley was young at age 24 or so, good natured, and he desperately wanted to be a Detective on the Police Force. "Can I go in with you guys?" he asked. "Maybe I can help." 

"Not this one, Feeley." I said. "Too much politics, if I don't miss my guess." I liked Feeley, he was a good kid. But he hadn't really shown himself to be Detective material so far, and if my guess was right, this case was going to be out of his league, so sorry.

Lt. Maxwell and I approached the condo which was the scene of the crime, where another uniformed patrolmen let us into the residence. The door was on the left and admitted into a very large living room. A flight of stairs went up the left wall and across the back wall of the living room as a balcony. A door in the back wall of the living room led to the kitchen, and another door towards the right led to what appeared to be the dining room.

We came up to the back of the sofa upon which two men sat. One was University President Wellman. The other was a man with a chiseled, square face, a head full of iron gray hair, and a muscular compact body. His name was Joe Arruzio. He was staring blankly forward, a strong drink in his hand which he occasionally absentmindedly sipped.

"Joe, this is Lt. Maxwell of the University Police." Dr. Wellman said gently, by way of introduction. Britt sat down next to Arruzio as Dr. Wellman continued, "I asked her to come to help out because of her discretion."

"Hello, Mr. Arruzio. I'm sorry for your loss." Britt said, knowing that one of the murder victims was Arruzio's wife. "As Dr. Wellman said, I will try to keep things as private as possible for you." Britt introduced me, then asked "I'm sorry to have to ask you to repeat your story, but can you tell us what happened?"

Arruzio nodded then slowly spoke, as if in pain, but also carefully speaking his words: "I had finished up some business at my office in the city. I had planned to come here tomorrow for the Alumni Board meeting, and Marie-- my wife-- had come ahead of me today. I went to the bar in my office building for a drink, then decided to come on over tonight. When I got here, I found..." Arruzio looked up at the door at the end of the balcony above, in the right corner.

"What time did you arrive here?" Britt asked.

"About... about eleven o'clock."

"And when did you leave the bar?"

"About 9:30." Arruzio said. I noted that this would be correct, as it was about a 90 minute drive from the City to Town. The road was a double-lane but was heavily police-patrolled in the county between ours and the City's, so people had to be reasonable in their speeds.

"If you'll excuse me, I'd better go upstairs." I said, wanting to see the crime scene. I went up the stairs and around the length of the balcony. I stopped just outside the master bedroom door and looked around. I saw nothing of interest on the carpet of the hallway, no marks, no stains. The door was open and I saw no marks on it as I stepped into the doorway.

"Whaddya got, Perlman?" I asked gruffly as an introduction. "Bit of a delay in calling me, wasn't it?"

"You had a hot date and I didn't want to interrupt it." she replied. Tanya Perlman was standing on the far side of the bedroom next to the window, at the corner of the bed. She was dressed in a navy skirt and jacket and white, open-collar shirt, the suit molding to her slender but curvy body, and sheer navy stockings and matte navy mid-heel pumps. She smiled at me as if inviting me to come in and fuck her, or so it felt.

"Two dead, shotgun at close range." a male voice said in answer to my original question. A tall, lean man stood at the near side of the bed, wearing a lab coat over his button-down shirt and black slacks. I couldn't remember his name, Mark or Martin, but I knew he was the lead technician from the CSI/Coroner Department. The "head guy", as it were, and the way he acted sometimes, I wondered if he was a homosexual. A young woman, who was the girl that had helped Lt. Maxwell in my Todd/Ned incident some months back, was bagging a piece of evidence. Inga, I think her name was, or Ingrid...

"And watch your God damn step!" the labcoat man almost shouted. "There may be evidence on the floor." I was not looking at the floor, however. I was looking at the bed, and at a grisly crime scene.

A naked man was lying on top of a naked woman, both dead, obviously having been caught in

flagrante delicto

. The dead man was young, looked to be in his late twenties, and except for being dead he was in excellent physical condition: tall, lean, with well developed muscles. I noticed a birthmark on his right thigh; it seemed familiar but I couldn't remember why it should be. He was face-down so I didn't know if his facial features remained. The woman was older, low forties, perhaps. Her legs were shapely and her belly trim. Aside from seeing some blonde hairs on the woman, their heads were beyond description and it was pretty obvious what had happened. The woman's face, what was left of it, was beyond recognition.

"The guy is hung like a horse." Tanya Perlman said as I looked at their nearly-joined loins. The man's cock was still elongated, engorged with blood, and Tanya was right: he was extremely well-endowed. "Did you know that if a man dies while hard, his cock stays hard?" she continued, "Rasputin died that way; the Russians cut off his cock and preserved it in a jar."

"Yes, I knew that." I said witheringly, remembering the young stud that my sister had sent to attack Melina. And such sexual oddities about Rasputin were just the sort of thing Tanya Perlman would know and enjoy knowing, I thought to myself amusedly. "So who are these people?"

"Yes, isn't it huge? He had just climaxed, also." the CSI man said. "Oh-- she is... Marie Arruzio, wife of Joe Arruzio. He came home and found the bodies. Her age: 50. Don't know who the man is. Considerably younger, about 30-33 in age. No ID in his clothes."

"Hmm, both older than they look. How can we tell it's her?" I asked, seeing that there was no way this woman was identified by her face.

"Husband said those are her wedding rings on the fingers." Labcoat Man said. "Also gave us some birthmark and mole information which appears to be correct."

"How was the husband when you spoke with him?" I asked.

"Shell-shocked. Wouldn't you be?" Tanya said. "But he kept steady enough while I was talking with him."

"Murder weapon. Shotgun, you said. Did you find any weapons?" I asked.

"No weapons," Tanya said, "anywhere in the house."

"Yes, shotgun. Double-ought, you can see a couple here in the skin." Labcoat said, pointing out the evidence on the bodies. I wanted to feel sick, but I steeled my stomach. "I'd say two shells were discharged." Labcoat replied. "One round would not do this much damage to both of them."

"Well, the shells would tell us that." I said. "What gauge was it?"

"We haven't found any shells yet." Tanya Perlman said.

"What?" I almost yelled, even as I was falling to my knees. I looked under the dresser, under the bed, careful not to move the bedspread too much. I also looked for anything that would suggest where a shell might have fallen. There was nothing.

"No shells." I said, thinking furiously. "Now why in the hell..."

I was looking around the room. Nothing seemed amiss nor disturbed. The floor appeared to be absent of anything that might provide a clue. Nothing was in either of the small trash cans in the room. I wandered to the door that led to the bathroom. It was obvious the CSI team had already been through it, and I saw nothing of importance. A question to the others confirmed that.

"It looks like the closet is undisturbed, also." Tanya Perlman said, "but we need to ask Mr. Arruzio if anything is missing. I was going to ask him when I got here, but he's pretty fucked up right now." I was looking into the closet, which was almost filled with dresses and women's shoes, but only a couple of men's suits, three shirts, two neckties and two pairs of slacks.

"I can understand." I said. "So he found the bodies?" Tanya nodded.

"Yes, he did. So what do you think?" Tanya Perlman asked. I motioned with a shoulder shrug for her to follow me out of the bedroom. In the hall, I whispered "Don't mention the absent shells to the husband. So, what do you make of this floor?" I asked, indicating the hallway floor, and then pointing to the floor inside the room. Tanya just looked bewildered.

"Nothing was found on the floor, out her nor in there. Nothing really out of place anywhere."

"Bathroom clean? No smell of anything?"

"Nope." Then she caught on. "

Should

there be something?"

"Just that nobody has puked yet." I said. She still looked puzzled, so I asked "So what do

you

make of this case?"

"My first thought would be that the husband came in and found his wife in bed with another man, got a shotgun and blasted them." Tanya replied. "But that doesn't make sense, he would've had to hide the shotgun and if he did we'll find it soon enough. Also, he has an alibi, even though we need to check it out. But I know something is not making sense there."

"You're thinking in the right direction, but the problem..." I said, in the manner of instruction to a good student, "is that if he'd just walked in on them, they'd have known he was there and probably have gotten up...at least disconnected."

Tanya grinned and said "Well, as big as he was, maybe he couldn't get it out fast enough." And then it struck me that through all of that grisly mess, which I was having to resolve myself to not get sick, Tanya Perlman was not only unaffected, but making sexual comments about the dead man' sexual endowment.

"No..." I said, smiling at the joke, but staying serious and focused on the case, "somebody snuck up on them and shot them. Which of course means..." I let the sentence lap, expecting and hoping for Tanya to complete it.

"... that it's pre-meditated." Detective Perlman finished. I was pleased; she was fast and putting together things well.

"That's right." I continued. "They may not even have known what hit them. We're going to have to talk to residents in the area, see if they heard anything. Who responded to the call?"

"Patrolmen Rudistan and Morton." Tanya replied, mentioning the names of two relatively good officers on the Force. "Of course, Officer Feeley showed up very quickly after the call went out. I'll get all of them started on people hanging around now, and tomorrow have them knock on doors."

"Good." I said, continuing to be impressed by Tanya Perlman as a detective. "In the meantime, keep an eye on the CSI wannabees in there, make sure they don't fuck anything up. Christ..." I said, almost as an afterthought, "I'd almost rather have Feeley in there than those guys."

"They're not bad, they just need some organization and further training." Tanya said. Seeing the gleam in my eye at those words, she quickly added "Anything else I should be looking for?" She was eager to please and trying to learn, also, and I also knew she had asked for another reason. But time for that later: I decided to throw her a really juicy bone.

"Just the contents of the closet." I replied as I began heading down the hallway. Descending the stairs, I approached the trio still sitting on the sofa. I sat down in the chair next to the sofa, sideways to them. Introducing myself again, I said "Mr. Arruzio, I'm sorry for your loss, and I know how hard a time this is for you, but I need to ask you some questions so we can get started finding your wife's killer or killers."

Arruzio peered at me, his eyes focusing and momentarily steely. "I think I remember hearing of you. You're doing good things on the Police Force. How can I help you?"

"Sir, were you aware that your wife was having an affair?"

"No." Arruzio said, then paused. "No, not for sure. But I've been busy with work for the past few months, maybe too much so..."

"Were there any problems in your marriage? Any issues from you working too much? Any arguments at all?"

"No, we were fine. No fights at all. We both have busy lives, of course, but no real problems."

"I understand. Can you tell me what time you arrived here tonight?"

"About eleven o'clock or so."

Under my questioning, Mr. Arruzio went on to explain that he'd been working late on a business deal. He'd been expecting to meet some others but they cancelled at 8:30pm. He went down to the bar in his office's building for about an hour. While there, he decided to come on over to Town tonight instead of waiting until tomorrow. He tried to call his wife, but got no answer, and came on over anyway, only to find the crime scene.

"Just one more question, sir. When was the last time you talked with your wife?"

"Around eight o'clock. I told her that I was staying in town to finish the business deal. But when the guys cancelled on me, I went to the bar for a while and then decided to come on over."

Once I had Arruzio's story, I looked around the house, where other CSI/Coroner people were milling about. Nothing had been found, no weapons of any kind. Marie Arruzio's purse was found in the kitchen, her wallet inside it containing several hundred dollars in cash. There was no sign of forced entry to either the front or back doors, nor any ground floor windows.