I Shot Annie
A Downtown Tony Brown Erotic Mystery
By
LAHomedog
Β© LAHomedog, 2021
I Shot Annie
A Downtown Tony Brown Erotic Mystery
Prologue -- The Crimes
--#--#--
This is a complete story. It is the prologue to a Downtown Tony Brown detective thriller. He is not in this part, he shows up in the end. The next one is his.
There is a lot of sex, action, and murders including patricide. If that turns you off, please don't read this story.
This is a work of fiction. I would like to thank as usual Eva_Adams and Redhaired Wonder Woman for their beta-reads and proofing. I couldn't have done it without you!
Please enjoy the start of my second Downtown Tony Brown, story. More on the way.
Β© LAHomedog, 2021
It Begins:
A woman's shoulders are the front line of her mystic. Her neck has all of the borders of a border town.
---#--#---
"Are you close?"
"Hush."
It sound like an old country music song, but I was sitting on a barstool drinking my baby away.
"Are you close?"
I could hear her in my head as I threw back my second bourbon.
"I want you inside me. I need you to fuck me I need you to cum in me. I want your cum deep inside of me Johnny. Seed me. Fill me. Make me cum with that big cock of yours.
I ordered another and threw it down.
"Don't you want me? Don't you want to make love and cum inside me? I know you do. I know I am the only one for you. Fuck me, my love. Fuck me now."
I threw the glass against the back of the bar.
"Shit Johnny! What the fuck are you doing, man?!"
"Sorry, Scott. Did I break anything?"
"Nah, we're good."
"Charge me double on the next one and that would be a double."
My cock entered her. Sloppy seconds. I knew it in an instant. Another had been there before me tonight and his cum was dripping off of my cock as I entered her. I tried to go at it. I was so horny, but another's seed...
"What the fuck?!"
"It doesn't matter. It is you that I want. It is you that I love. I want
you
now."
"What the fuck? What are you doing Annie?"
"It was nothing. You know there is something about his beard, his tattoo, his swagger. It's fucking sex heroin, okay?! He had his way with me against a tree out in the woods."
"But we agreed you would never fuck him again! This is the second time in less than a month! We agreed that it is just the two of us. We're engaged! You make me sick to my stomach."
"Well, use the sink. And let me know when the target practice starts!"
"Are you kidding me? You fucked Hank!"
"I slipped. So shoot me."
The Start:
My job had become unbearable during the pandemic. You need to work at home, no you're an essential worker and we need you here. No, work at home, no you're an essential worker, and back again.
The back and forth was hard on the spirit and the neck.
My girl, Annie had been going through the same pandemic boom-a-rang.
Of course, she wasn't "my girl Annie" at the beginning of it. She was just someone I dated and occasionally slept with when we both desired. I suppose you could say we were inching up towards "friends with benefits."
I liked Annie. An apple cheeked, classic American Heartland cutie. She was from Cleveland, Ohio, and looked like she was straight out of Iowa and the great Broadway musical, "The Music Man."
A flounce of wavy brown hair on her head, apple cheeks, a button nose, cute blue eyes, and a smile you'd see on a Norman Rockwell painting.
About 5'-4" tall, with pert B-cup breasts and a tight athletic ass, and a fiery little pistol in her own right, with a gusto and confidence that was going to lead her to success no matter where she ventured.
And her neck. There was something about it when I looked at her as she sat beside me that I found mesmerizing and completely arousing. It was long, slender, and looking at it was an open invitation to the wonder that laid below it. I couldn't resist.
And she loved sex. Loved oral both ways, desired bondage both ways, but mostly desired me, and actually looked me in the eye more than once and said, "I want you."
Well, it led her to success with me.
Like Annie, I lived in New York City, but unlike Annie, I grew up on a ranch on the outskirts of Louisville, Kentucky. Horses, hay, white painted fences, and Derby Day on the first Saturday of May.
I love the ranch. I love horses. I love my childhood horse, Champ. And I loved my life with my family. But ranching and breeding horses wasn't for me.
Truth? I always preferred the smell of the city to the ranch. Even as a kid.
I went down the road to the University of Louisville for my business degree. My daddy was rich, but I didn't want those riches. I wanted to make them for myself.
And I landed in the big city of New York working for one of the major Wall Street private equity firms.
You might think, "What does some billion-dollar hedge fund need with a twit from Kentucky?" But the simple fact of the matter about business in the U. S of A. is if you do not understand the consumer in the heartland, you are DOA.
Since most of the recruits were blue bloods from the Ivy League schools like Harvard and Yale who didn't know a "hush-puppy" and good BBQ from a Ralph Lauren sweater, I was a hot commodity who's opinion was sought out by others in the firm and valued by my bosses. I started shooting up the ladder.
That didn't stop my daddy from making his plea every visit and holiday for my return, but gosh darn it, I was enjoying making my way in The Big Apple without family clout behind me.
It felt good.
Real good.