Newshounds

Kent leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and cradled his head in his hands. It just wasn't coming together. That day's city council meeting had gone pretty much as he'd expected -- a 4-3 vote backing the mayor and council president to approve their favorite developer's building plan despite its significant deviation from local building, planning and zoning codes.

But the story he knew waking up that morning that he would write that night wasn't appearing on his computer screen. It wasn't writer's block. It was too much information, too many images, too much moral indignation coursing through his brain. They were cancelling out each other, not transferring smoothly into a comprehensive news story.

He felt a tap on his shoulder. He opened his eyes. His city editor, Barry Black, hovered over him.

"Taking a nap there, ace?" Black said. He was not smiling.

"Just doing a little pre-editing, chief," Kent said. "You'll have the story by deadline."

"Before deadline would be nice, for a change." The editor moved on to harass his education reporter. The state had issued its periodic report cards on local school districts that day; none of them made the dean's list.

Kent stared at the computer screen. Hit "control a" and then "delete." Starting over was the only solution. He felt more hands on his shoulders. He turned and looked behind him. Smiled. More welcome hands.

"Having trouble?" Lois Landon grinned down at him. She massaged his shoulders. "You look like you need to clear your head. Come with me."

Kent made it a habit of never failing to follow Lois when she summoned. She was the hottest woman in the newsroom. Soft skin. Long black hair, big dark eyes. A contagious smile. Slim body. He compared her favorably to one of his favorite actresses -- Emmy Rossum, equally delectable as both Christine Daae and Fiona Gallagher. Though Lois had bigger tits.

Lois led him into the seldom-used photo darkroom. The paper maintained a file of old negatives that were pulled out mainly for historical pieces, all other photos being recorded digitally, of course. The photo editor, Jimmy Oldman, had refitted the room with a large arm chair, an ottoman, an office fridge and a flat-screen TV.

Lois pushed Kent down on the chair. She leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips. He raised his hands to her cup her bra-less breasts in his palms. "Think a hummer will do the trick?" she asked. She loosened his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. His cock was hardening quickly as she pulled it out.

"I've found it's a panacea for many a problem," Kent said.

"Me too." Lois lowered her face to his dick. She licked precum from the tip and slowly wrapped her lips around it. She held his balls in one hand and stroked the base of his cock with the other. He laid his head back and closed his eyes again, the frustration easing out of him with each stroke of her lips on his shaft.

"Hello, kids." Kent looked up. Lois popped his dick out of her mouth and turned to smile at Jimmy.

"I'm just giving our wordsmith here some inspiration. He's going to blow the top off city hall with his story tomorrow."

"If you don't blow the top of his head off tonight," Jimmy said.

Lois turned back to Kent and took his cock in her mouth again.

"Where you been?" Kent asked.

"Apartment house fire," Jimmy said. "Slumlord wouldn't spring for smoke detectors. Got some good shots of firefighters carrying kids and cats from the blaze. Could be my Pulitzer."

"You smell like smoke."

"That ain't me," Jimmy said, chuckling. "That's our favorite environmental reporter. She's smokin' hot."

Lois lifted her head. "With that, you may fuck me."

"You have that on your phone? Just push a button? Or do you have to repeat it multiple times every day?"

She reached around to try to slap his legs in mock disgust. He had backed away, though, to lower his pants and boxers. He lifted his hips, pushed her short skirt up over her ass and yanked her panties down her legs. Her moan vibrated over Kent's dick as Jimmy eased his cock into her pussy.

Lois took pride in three things: (a) Her appearance. She knew she could turn heads walking down a street wearing farmer's baggy overalls. (b) Her professionalism. Nobody knew more about environmental issues or reported on them more thoroughly than she did. (c) Her sluttiness. Anywhere, any time, any hole. The more often, the more variety, the more men -- and the occasional woman -- the better. A DP with two respected colleagues just off the newsroom was among her favorites.

She braced herself on the arms of the chair as Jimmy quickened the pace of his thrusts into her cunt. She took Kent's slender dick balls deep into her throat. Jimmy bent over her. He reached under and unbuttoned her blouse enough to slip his hands inside and jiggle her tits. Kent held her head lightly in his hands, though she needed no encouragement to suck him feverishly.

"Oh, shit, Lo, I'm gonna come," Kent said. She nodded her head, tightened the grip of her lips on his rod. He raised his hips. She pressed her nose into his pelvis, rose up to smack her lips on the tip, then dove back down as Kent unleashed strings of cum into her throat. She gulped it down.

Lois held Kent's cock in her mouth while Jimmy continued to pound her from behind. She reached between her legs and cupped his balls in her hand. Kent slid a hand to her left tit. Jimmy held the right one. She wiggled her ass to encourage Jimmy to fuck her harder, deeper. She shivered with rapture as her pussy juice flowed out over the photographer's cock. He arched his back, clenched his hips and fired jism into her pussy.

As they caught their breaths and straightened their clothing, Lois said, "Well, you two boys still have things to file. I, of course, filed my story early, efficient little bitch that I am."

"So, now, what're you gonna do?" Jimmy asked. "Go home to your husband?"

"Yep. I'm gonna sneak into the apartment and see if I can catch him fucking your wife."

"Ha! He wishes."

"Damn straight he does. When's she gonna let him into that sweet cooch of hers?

"Maybe when you get your head out of it."

"Hmm. Last time I looked, I couldn't get in. Too many cocks in the way."

"It's those fucking college boys upstairs. Always seem to be running out of honey."

Lois finished buttoning her blouse. She stood on tiptoes and kissed Jimmy on the lips. "Go file those Pulitzer winners. And you (turning back to Kent), just remember: Let the facts tell the story. Simple sentences. A period can be the reader's best friend. Be sparing with adjectives. You've done it before, hundreds of times. So go make us proud."

As Kent passed the city desk, Black shook his head. "Well, I hope that break blew the cobwebs out."

Kent moved on to his desk without comment. Just a sly smile. Then the words poured forth. Simple and direct, just like Lois reminded. He read it over, cut a couple adjectives and was satisfied. The just-the-facts report shouted a message loud and clear: At city hall, money rules. He filed the story.

X X X

Jimmy snapped picture after picture as he and Kent watched from half a block away as councilman Berkowitz pulled into the lot at his dry cleaning business in a brand new Lexus.

"Luther moves fast," Kent said.

"Probably had the car parked out front of Fred's house when he got home from the council meeting."

Lester Luther owned half of downtown and an array of office buildings and retail along the main arteries. His profit margins were semi-reliably reported to be huge. He spread the wealth around with "gifts" to various "dear friends" in and out of government. He donated enough to charity to get his picture in the paper frequently.

"You think the rumors about that place are true?" Jimmy asked, nodding toward the dry cleaning shop.

"That Fred's gambling or prostitution or drug-peddling operations, take your pick or picks, are run out of the back room? Yeah, I believe it. Just wish I could prove it," Kent said.

"You think Luther's in on that?"

"Naw. He maintains that patina of respectability, nothing nefarious on the side. Just a lot of cash floating around to make sure there are no obstacles in his way."

Kent pulled his seat belt back around him and clicked it in place. Jimmy started the paper's photo staff car. "Let's go. I think I can prove the provenance of that Lexus, though. That's a start."

The local motor vehicles office was a short walk from the Daily World building. Kent took the steps two at a time and breezed through the front door. There was, of course, a long, long line, but he caught the eye of a supervisor who was seated at a desk behind the counter. She nodded him toward a side hallway.

"Hi, Cindy. You're looking mighty fine today. As usual," Kent said, making sure she knew by his tone that he was mimicking a newshound from a 1930s crime movie.

"Flattery won't work today, Mr. Kent Clark. What brings you here, you dirty dog? I'm sure it isn't solely a desire for my company."

"You underestimate your powers of attraction, Cindy. But, alas, you're right. I do have an ulterior motive."

"Which is?"

"Title search. New Lexus. Currently being driven by a certain city council member."

"What's in it for me?"

"What do you want?"

She turned and walked down the hall. He followed. Cindy opened a door and flicked on the light. It was a small storage room that incongruously included a desk and secretary chair. Kent closed the door behind him. Cindy turned and wrapped her arms around his neck. He dipped his head and kissed her passionately on the lips.

"You have missed me, huh?" he said.

"Well," grazing her hand over his crotch, "parts of you, maybe."

Kent lifted her up and set on her on the desk. She pulled her skirt up to her waist. He tugged her panties down her thighs, over her knees and calves and off her feet. He pulled the chair around and sat on it between her legs, which he draped over his shoulders. He kissed up and down her right thigh, then her left. She clutched the back of his head and pushed his face to her crotch. He slipped his tongue between her labia. She cooed in delight.

Cindy defined petite. She stood about five feet tall and might have tipped the scale over one hundred pounds on a day in which she felt particularly bloated. He breasts and ass were small. Her legs skinny. But she had the cutest damned face he'd ever seen and a giggle that infused anyone who heard it with unbridled joy.

He ate her pussy with energy. In his mind, he was sacrificing nothing, definitely not his journalistic integrity, by engaging in sex with a woman he desired and would fuck at a moment's notice with no quid pro quo involved. Indeed, his search for information was in one way just a convenient excuse to see Cindy again.

"Oh, Kent, nobody licks my vag as well as you do. You like it, don't you? I mean you really like it?"

Kent looked up at her and grinned. "I could eat your snatch all day, Cindy. You're so sweet and taste so good."

"And you're not here just to pry some privileged information out of me?"

He mumbled into her crotch. "Not just to get the info. The real goods are right here." He smacked his lips on her pussy lips. She wiggled her ass.

"Then fuck me, Kent. Stick your dick in me. I need some good lovin'."

Jimmy lowered his pants and briefs to his knees. His cock was at full alert. Her pussy was drenched. He crashed into her. She grunted her approval and lay back on the desk. He again lifted her legs over his shoulders so that he had an angle to drive deep into her cunt. He drilled her hard and long. She swiveled her head, ran her hands over the hard nipples on her flattened chest.

He rose up on his toes so that her could reach her mouth and kiss her hard on the lips. She wedged her tongue between his lips. They rocked together as one, faster and faster, harder and harder, deeper and deeper. She grimaced and squealed. He felt her cunt juice stream over his cock. He pumped thick white strings of cum into her pussy.

"You have details?" Cindy asked as she tried to sop up the cum and cunt juice from her crotch and thighs with old registration records. Kent gave her the license number from the Lexus. "This Berkowitz?" "Yes." "And Lester?" "Right."

She adjusted her blouse and skirt, flipped her hair back into place. "I'll get back to you." She opened the door and scurried down the hallway back to her desk, leaving Kent to turn off the light, close the door and see himself out.

X X X

When he left for the paper at mid-morning the following day, Kent found a plain brown envelope outside his apartment door. Inside were documents detailing the transfer of title on a Lexus from Luther Motors to Amanda Mason the day before the council vote and from Amanda Mason to Fred Berkowitz the day after the council vote. Cindy had used her skills to add in a note scribbled on scrap paper that Amanda Mason was the wife of a cousin of Lester Luther.

At the office, he was anxious to share this information with Jimmy. The photo editor was not in the outer studio, so he slipped into the darkroom. The room was illuminated only by the flickering of light from the TV, which also emitted the unmistakable sounds of a porn video. As he peeked around the corner, he saw a naked Cat Grace, society reporter, bouncing on the lap of the naked shooter. They both faced the TV screen.

Cat smiled at Kent when she saw him. She motioned him over with her fingers. She reached out to loosen his belt, but he shied away. "Can't play this morning, Cat," he said, disappointment obvious on his face.

She didn't stop bucking up and down on Jimmy, her tits bouncing wildly, her hair swirling about her face, while Kent told them of the suspicious title transfers. "So now," he said, "we have to prove that no money exchanged hands."

"Maybe I can help with that," Cat said. Kent waited while she absorbed several powerful upward thrusts from Jimmy. "I know some guys who are connected to the Luther organization. I've gotten good dope from them in the past, but more of a society gossip nature than any sort of official corruption."

"So, you could make some inquiries?" Kent asked.

"I could. How much is it worth to you? I might have to blow them."

Kent smiled. "Well, I wouldn't want you to do anything you wouldn't normally do anyway."

"You calling me a slut?" Cat leaned back against Jimmy. She pulled his hands up to her tits. She spread her legs to make sure Kent got a clear view of Jimmy's cock pumping up into her cunt.

"Remember, truth is an absolute defense in libel and slander cases," Kent said, chuckling. He nodded down to her crotch as Exhibit A.

"Give me a day or two," Cat said.

As he left the darkroom, Kent heard the grunts and groans from Jimmy and the squeals from Cat that he was accustomed to hearing from them when they came.

Cat didn't tell Kent that her sources were the twin sons of Lester Luther and a woman who wasn't his wife. He had supported them and her as they grew and paid to send them off to college, where they majored in alcohol consumption and fornication. They graduated in a speedy six years, and he then set them up as the CEO and COO of the six-facility Luther Memorial Homes and Chapels.

Neither of them was a licensed funeral director, of course, so they leisurely watched over the finances, making sure the lion's share of profits ended up in their pockets, while a staff of qualified morticians did all the hard work. They did, though, enjoy fucking floozies on the embalming table and in the display caskets.

Cat parked a block away from the flagship Memorial Home and climbed the back stairs to a rear entrance to the second floor so that none of the staff saw her arrive. Lance answered her knock and welcomed her with a huge hug and hard kiss on the mouth.

"Hey, Larry," he hollered over his shoulder as he ushered Cat into their playhouse. "Our great love Cat's here. She says she desperately needs our cocks in her."

"I didn't say that, Larry," Cat yelled. "Although," quieter to Lance, "it does sound like a good plan."

She was soon on her knees, her breasts bared, alternating sucking one twin dick while stroking the other. The boys had average-size cocks, so she was able to easily swallow them whole.

"So, Cat," Larry said as she slid his dick into her throat, "you wouldn't be sucking us off if you didn't want something in return. What is it this time?"

She pulled away and looked up at him. Stunned. Insulted. "Why, Lars, my love, I can't believe you doubt my sincerity."

"I don't. I believe you sincerely think we'll give you inside information on Luther Enterprises in exchange for blowjobs. And you know something, babe? You're absolutely fucking right."

The tip of his cock found the opening of Cat's throat once again in confirmation of his assumption. She turned and worked her lips up and down Lance's shaft for a minute or so, then swiveled back to Larry. Back and forth, back and forth. The twins held off as long as they could. Cat loved having their hard dicks in her hands and mouth. And she savored the taste and texture of cum.

At last, she held them each inches from her face, stroking them furiously until they splashed streams of jism onto her cheeks, nose and lips. She sucked their cocks clean and licked strands of cum from her face and fingers, swallowing it gleefully.

She sat back on her haunches, looked up at the boys and said, "Lexus. Berkowitz. Your dad?"

X X X

"So, that's our insider confirmation?" Kent said. "'People with knowledge of Luther Enterprises operations'? That's kind of lame. Almost as bad as those presidential transition attributions you see about possible cabinet picks from 'people familiar with the thinking of Asshole's advisers.'"

Cat frowned. "Hey, Kent, it may sound lame, but it's solid as shit. These guys have access and are nosy as hell. They have nothing but time on their hands to dig around in Luther computer systems and get the dirt on everything that's going on. Trust me: We can run with it."

"I think it's enough to use to confront the main players -- Luther, Berkowitz and this Mason woman," Lois interjected. "The 'we have it on good authority' bullshit. And we also have the title trail that points directly toward graft."

Kent thought it over. "Okay, let's go for it. But let's hit all three at the same time so that none of them has a chance to tip off the others."

"Or for them to get their stories straight," Lois said.

"Right. So, I'll take Luther," Kent said. "Lo, you're most likely to sweet-talk something out of Ms. Mason. And Cat, those tits and legs are bound to get Berkowitz on the record with something while his eyes bug out."

"Oh, so, you like," Cat said, bending over to show some cleavage and lifting the hem of her dress to expose her firm thighs.

"You know I do, girl. So, anyway, four o'clock this afternoon?"

"Do we synchronize our watches now?" Lois said, mocking him.

He slapped her lightly, playfully on the ass. "Just show up at Mason's door at four this afternoon. Be your best sweet self."

"Got it, boss." With a stiff, sarcastic salute.

The Mason house was in a mid-level section of town, a step or two below where you'd expect any relative of Lester Luther to live. One of the front steps needed to be replaced, and window trim cried out for a coat of paint. The doorbell clearly was broken. Lois knocked on the door. Twice, before anyone answered.

Amanda Mason looked like a pretty woman who was trying her best to appear dowdy in a worn house dress, ragged slippers and a hand towel wrapped around her head to keep her hair out of her face. She held a can of furniture polish in one hand and cleaning cloth in the other.

"Who are you? What do you want?" No smile. No sparkle in the eyes. More than a little perturbed at being interrupted.