Clayton put his feet up on the old wooden desk he'd inherited when taking over the Detective Agency from his dad, Peter. It was old and weather beaten, with cigarette burns in certain spots. Clayton wouldn't have sold it for a million bucks, it meant everything to him.
Six months after retiring from the agency, Clayton's old man had passed away from cancer. He'd never kicked those cigarettes and they'd been the death of him. Hard to believe that had been three years ago.
Clayton Jennings was not the detective his father was, it had come natural to the old man. He'd been a cop on the force for 30 years before retiring, then he'd opened the agency upon retiring. His smart-as-a-whip Dad had helped crack dozens of cases, teaching Clayton whatever he knew.
Clayton brushed the sandy hair out of his eyes and tried willing the phone to ring. If he didn't get a case soon, he wouldn't have a phone to ring. The rent was paid up, he wasn't heavily in debt, but he was hanging on by a thread.
Then the stunning blonde walked into the office. Clayton nearly fell out of his chair, she was that good looking. "Mr Jennings?" she said in a soft voice with a slight inflection.
"Yes, that's me, Miss ...?"
"You may call me Cassandra. And therein lies the root of my problem."
Cassandra explained to the somewhat-rumpled detective what had brought her to his office. "I woke up here in Toronto, having no idea how I got here. I have money. I am obviously well-bred and intelligent. I love sex ... " Cassandra giggled at that " ... and I don't think I am a criminal."
"I beg your pardon?"
Cassandra continued on. "When I first started out trying to find out my identity, I thought it might be possible I might be a criminal, in some kind of trouble. But I realized I don't do drugs. Nor am I an alcoholic, for I don't crave alcohol."
By now, Clayton had begun making notes on the computer on his desk. "Anything else?"
She smiled at him again. "Someone is taking great pains to make sure I am well taken care of. I am staying at the Royal York in a rather lavish suite. There is steady money coming to me in Traveler's Cheques and my clothes are expensive."
"Go on."
"I mentioned it before, but I love sex. With men or women, I seem to be a near-addict when it comes to sexual escapades."
Clayton could just imagine the pretty blonde, seated in a frazzled chair, naked and panting, while being fucked. He bet that she was a great lay, she obviously had a great body under the sedate business attire she was wearing.
"I would like to know as much as possible about myself, Mr. Jennings. I've done some asking around - discreetly - and I've been told you are determined, discreet and hard-working. I want answers, do you think you can get them for me?"
He smiled at her and nodded. "Cassandra, I will do my best. My rates are reasonable, but this could take a while. Are you prepared for that?"
Cassandra crossed a slender leg and nodded. "As I seem to have an inexhaustible supply of funds, that will be no problem. I have Five Hundred with me, will that be sufficient to retain your services?"
Clayton took the money from her hands, feeling her fingertips against his own. Hell, she could take off her jacket and she'd have enough to retain his services. This was the most drop-dead gorgeous woman he'd ever seen.
The noises from nearby Bloor Street drowned out her next comment and he had to ask her again. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. What did you say?"
She smiled and laughed sweetly. "I asked, now that our business is concluded, would you like to fuck me?"
This time, Clayton did indeed fall out of the chair. "Jesus, are you kidding?"
"No. As I said, I am a very sexual being. I seem to need a cock and some good licking right now and you're a sensual bear of a man. I bet you can give me a great, hard fucking and I need that right now. Would you like to fuck me or is there a Mrs. Jennings?"
"No, there isn't!" Clayton said a little-too quickly. Cassandra laughed again, she had a beautiful laugh. "Even if there was, my lord woman, you're worth the risk!"
She was unbuttoning the black pinstripe jacket, revealing a sexy black lace camisole underneath it. Another thing Clayton's analytical mind noted, she had good taste in lingerie. She wiggled out of the pants and folded them over the chair. She was neat. Now this spectacular woman stood before him in the cami, stockings and heels. She let her hair fall in graceful waves and tossed it back.
She took a step towards Clayton and began to unbutton his shirt. "I like undressing a man -- or a woman, for that matter!" she said as she placed a gentle kiss on his chest.
She raked her nails across his chest as she kissed the side of his neck, he shrugged the shirt off his body. He was glad he kept working out, he figured he was going to need a lot of strength to keep up with the blonde wildcat.
Cassandra ran her hands down his pantleg and back up again, unzipping his fly. She removed his cock from the boxers and sucked it into her mouth. Her lips were silk-soft, she manipulated Clayton's cock for a few minutes, then stood back up again. "You're a big fellow, aren't you?" she purred.
"I know how to use it too!" he bragged as she moved away from him and sat up on the desk. The young blonde spread her legs and stroked her pussy suggestively. "Do you like to eat pussy, lover?" she cooed.
"Very much, when they're as beautiful as yours!" Clayton spread her pussy lips apart gently and began to lick her, slowly, steadily. He took his time eating Cassandra, using his mouth to taste her, inhaling the subtle musk of her cunt. He'd occasionally move up to her tummy, pulling on her navel ring, looking at the hard pink nipples that begged to be kissed. He did so, hearing her sighs of pleasure, then Clayton went back to eating her sweetness.
