Eyes Only Ch. 01

Amateur

The chronological order of my stories is now listed in WifeWatchman’s biography.

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

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.

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Part 1 – Prologue

Thursday, October 15th. The baby party was going full swing at the Burke home… Michael Burke’s home, which he’d never sold.

It was the 2nd birthday of toddler Jack Burke, son of the late Jack Burke and Jeanine Olivet Burke, and nephew of Todd Burke. In addition to Jeanine being there, the party was also attended by Melina Allgood, Virginia Madison, Tina Felton, Jenna Stiles, Cindy Ross, and little Jack’s godmother, Teresa Croyle. Melina had brought her little son Daniel, and Jeanine had baby Michael Todd Burke, as well.

“So how is Todd doing?” Jeanine asked Teresa, who was holding her godson Jack as they talked. “I was hoping he’d come to the party today.”

“He’s good.” said Teresa. “He’s busy with his company. Travels a good bit.”

“Who takes care of little Doug while he’s away?” Jeanine asked.

“Don and Laura, most of the time.” said Teresa. “But sometimes Don’s mom, sometimes me and Cindy and Jenna. And when he’s home, he really takes good care of Doug. He likes being a father, that’s for sure.”

“When are you due, Melina?” asked Jeanine as Melina came up and sat down near them.

“Late November, maybe early December.” Melina said.

“Boy or girl?” asked Jeanine.

Melina answered. “We think it’s going to be a girl, but we’re not totally sure. Laura knows, but Daniel doesn’t want to know until the baby is born.”

Meanwhile, Jenna was talking to Virginia and Tina, as they were all lawyers and knew each other well. Virginia asked “So, Jenna, you’re not going to run for D.A.?”

“No, not this time.” said Jenna. “I explored my options, and Krasney is too popular. I also have the problem of some unsuccessful drug cases because of that fat bastard Sharples. With him out of the way, and if I can get some good convictions, I might run in two years for Solicitor or for D.A., especially if Krasney moves on and goes for more.”

“Oh, you think he’ll do that?” asked Tina. Neither she nor Virginia noticed that Cindy was listening intently to their conversation.

“Oh, I don’t know.” said Jenna. “It’s like a set of stairs: if Mayor Vaughan decides not to run, then there will be mayoral candidates, most likely from the Council. Then Krasney can run for one of those, if he doesn’t run for the mayor slot itself. If Krasney runs for another post, I’m definitely running for D.A.”

“I do have one question.” said Tina, raising her voice a bit to get everyone’s attention. “I am hearing rampant rumors that Police Chief Bennett is leaving the Force. Anyone know anything about that?” For some reason, all eyes went to Cindy Ross.

“I can sit here and honestly say that I have no idea.” said Cindy. “I’ve heard rumors, too, but there has been nothing from him nor the Commander about it.”

“Nor my husband.” said Melina. “He and Don think someone may be starting rumors just to cause trouble. Perhaps that asshole Deputy Chief Robert Brownlee is behind the rumors.”

“Does Brownlee really think he has any shot to become Chief if Bennett leaves?” asked Jenna Stiles. “I have to work right down the hall from that prick. I’m honestly stunned that someone hasn’t obliterated him, and I’m not just talking present company or the Iron Crowbar. A lot of Police Officers hate that bastard, and they openly say so in my presence.”

“The only thing I can think of,” said Jeanine, “is that the Town & County Council would consider Brownlee for Chief just to force the Commander to take the Chief job.”

“Don won’t play that game.” said Melina. “I was married to him for eight years. He’ll call their bluff, and if they do put Brownlee in the Chief’s office, Don will be out of there in a heartbeat.”

“Is that true, Cindy?” asked Jeanine.

Cindy exhaled, then said “I don’t know about the Council trying to bluff Don, but I’m afraid that Don would leave the TCPD if they mess with him. And if he leaves, I will too.”

“So would I.” said Teresa. “And so would most of the Detectives.”

“And maybe that’s what someone intends.” said Tina Felton, with astute vision. “Drive away all of the TCPD’s best crime-solvers, and it could get very ugly in this County, very quickly.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Still Thursday, October 15th, nearly 11:30pm. Phyllis Troy lay naked on her bed, her luscious legs spread wide and pulled back. She was wearing high heels slides of clear acrylic with a clear plastic strap, casino siteleri showing off her elegant, shapely feet. They weren’t platforms but still “hooker heels”, and they made the lovely mature woman look like the hot slut she wanted to be at that moment. Her breasts bounced and jiggled with each deep, powerful thrust of the young stud on top of her, fucking her.

The young stud was Sean Sanderson, and he was clearly very much enjoying laying on top of Phyllis and sliding his huge, throbbing hard cock in and out of the mature beauty’s steaming cunt. His “eight pack” abs were rippling and his muscular ass was bobbing up and down rapidly as he pumped Phyllis with smooth, deep, steady strokes. His slender, muscular arms were taut as they held his weight above her.

Sean bent down and kissed Phyllis’s mouth, sliding his tongue past hers and exploring her mouth with it in rhythm to his cock gently thrusting into her pussy.

?”Ohhhhh, Sean…” Phyllis said as the young stud began kissing her neck and jaw, “I think you need to put on some more lube… I’m tightening up…”

“Sure, babe.” Sean said. He slid his massive member out of her pussy, the distended cuntlips clinging to his shaft. Reaching over, he took a tube of lube from the bedside table and applied some to his cock. He squirted some more onto his fingers and dipped those fingers into Phyllis’s cunthole, working his fingers around. Phyllis groaned in pleasure at the feeling, but also at the sight of Sean’s cock… the huge helmet of his cockhead leaking clear fluid, the shaft lined with veins and thick and throbbing, standing straight up in homage to his intense desire for her.

“You have a marvelous cock, Sean.” Phyllis said as Sean put the lube back on the table. He climbed onto her again, aiming his big cock right at her slimy, fur-lined snatch. They groaned together as he penetrated, then sank half of his shaft into her.

“Oh geez, that feels so good!” Sean gasped. As he settled onto the older woman, he slid his hands under her back, gripping her shoulders as his mouth nuzzled her neck. He began a slow rhythm of fucking her, letting the lube warm up and get evenly spread on his shaft and her cuntwalls. He then raised his head and looked into her twinkling eyes.

“Phyllis,” he said, “I have fucked a lot of women in that club, wives in their forties, thirties, and most of them aren’t in as good shape as you are, or are as good at fucking. I’d think you’re the thirty-year-old and they’re…”

“I think you like fucking older women, Sean.” Phyllis said with a grin. “And young studs like you make me feel like a young woman.” She was in her early sixties, but still fucked like a woman 20 years younger.?

“Yeah, I do like fucking older women. But just about all women are older than me.” Sean admitted as he ground his pelvis against hers. “But you’re different… they’re just pussies for my cock to fill up. Sure it feels good to fuck them, but Rita said to just think of them as cunts to fuck, to not get personal. But you… you’re much more special than that…”

“Is that why you wanted to take me to dinner tonight instead of just fucking me?” Phyllis asked, to draw more compliments from him. She’d noticed how his cock throbbed when he talked about it, and she wanted him to feel as much pleasure as possible.

“Yeah.” Sean said. “Unnnh…” He bent down and kissed her again, their tongues twining hotly as they deeply kissed for long seconds. He began pumping his meat into her with faster, harder thrusts.

Despite the extra lubricant, Phyllis still felt discomfort as the teen stud pistoned his cock in and out of her with increasing power. She needed to get him to his climax…

“Are you close, baby?” Phyllis whispered, wrapping her arms around the young stud’s slender, muscular body.

“Oh yeah, baby,” Sean replied, “yeah, I’m getting close. Where do you want me to come this time?” She had fellated him earlier and he’d quickly come in her mouth, taking off the edge and allowing him to have some control as he fucked her. But Phyllis’s cunt was just too good, and he felt his nut rising again.

Phyllis wrapped her shapely legs tightly around Sean’s lower back, her crossed feet pressing into his asscheeks. “Come inside me, stud! Fill me up with that hot load!” Her words, as well as the feel of her legs wrapping tightly around him drove the young stud on until he could not hold back. He slammed his mouth onto hers as he climbed her all the way!

“MMMFFFF” he moaned into her mouth as the first spurt of potent, virile semen fired out of his cock and against Phyllis’s cervix. Several more bursts of hot jism joined that first shot as Sean emptied his big balls into the lovely mature woman beneath him…

After it was over and their loins had decoupled, Sean continued to hold Phyllis. They shared gentle but deep kisses, enjoying the pleasing lassitude of post-coital bliss.

“Mmmm,” Phyllis asked between kisses, “so you don’t have to work tonight?”

“No,” slot oyna said Sean. “I’l be working all weekend, though. Friday and Saturday nights are the hot party nights. Even us young guys need viagra at times to keep going. Sunday nights are quieter; sometimes just the staff have a party. I like fucking that bartender Brenda, so we’ll hook up.”

“What about the rest of the week?” Phyllis asked, her face not revealing the intensity of her listening to her young lover’s answers.

“Depends.” said Sean. “Usually groups arrange parties. Lesbians one night, then married swingers will have a party on another night. But most of the wives come in during the afternoons. I’ll be hard at work fucking some very hungry wives while their husbands are hard at work in boring jobs. But right now…” He leaned down and kissed Phyllis’s mouth deeply again. “…I’m making love… to you.” Phyllis did not argue as she deeply kissed him back…

Part 2 – The Crime Scene

“So what’s the word on the Chief?” asked Cindy Ross as she and I sped to a call of a dead person at the Cub Club in the Tenderloin District. It was Friday night going on Saturday morning, October 16-17.

“I have no idea.” I truthfully said. “I don’t know if he’s leaving, and if he does, I don’t know when it’ll be. Logically, it would be at the end of the year, and we could get a new Chief installed by February 1st.”

“The only time I see logic around this Town,” Cindy said, “is when Mr. Spock is on television… and, of course, when you tell us how you solved a crime.”

“And that’s not always pure logic.” I said. “Okay, here we are. Be on high alert. We’re in enemy territory, here.”

With several police cars and an ambulance already at the scene, the parking lot and front entrance of the Cub Club was bathed in the brilliance of blue, red, and white LED lights. As I walked up to the door, Sergeant Rudistan said “Do you want us to cut off the lightbars, sir?”

“Noooo, keep ’em on.” I said. “I want the whole world to know the Police are here.”

At the entrance was Patrolman Culver. He had learned from previous mistakes. “Name, rank, badge number, sir?” he asked before granting me entry.

“Troy, Commander, TCPD Badge 1-6-4-0.” I said.

After Culver wrote down that info, Cindy stepped up and said: “Ross, Captain, TCPD Badge 1-0-6-9.”

Once inside, I looked around. The overhead lights had been turned on, so the place wasn’t dark like it had been when this unfortunate catastrophe had befallen a patron. As I stepped up to the scene, police officers got out of my way, and the body was on full display. He had been a young man, tall, slender, wearing a ‘Joker’ purple suit, and his face was made up with white grease paint. His unpainted hands showed him to be a white man.

“He looks more like Marilyn Manson than The Joker.” I said as I came up. “Theo, whaddya got?”

“John Doe, sir.” said Theo. “No ID on him. Most of the people in the place fled when it became clear a dead body was on the floor. The woman behind the bar said she didn’t see anything, just heard a scream and everyone scattered. Same goes for the guys up front.”

“What was the cause of death?” I asked. J.R. Barnes from the Crime Lab was examining the body; I’d long ago told Martha the M.E. that I didn’t want to see her and other non-police females at Tenderloin District crime scenes, unless they were well armed and trained for personal combat. Call me a misogynist or call me chivalrous, but that’s how I felt about it.

“He was stabbed.” said J.R. Barnes. “Looks like someone got him in the gut from the front. But he also took a knife from behind, either right to the kidney or some big arteries nearby, as well as his spine. That’s likely what killed him, but the M.E. will have to confirm that with an autopsy.”

I looked at the body as J.R. partially turned it over. The knife wound to the back was several inches long, and I could tell from the point of entry that it was no pen-knife that was used here. “Large knife used from behind. Very large.” I said. “What about the front wound?”

“Smaller.” said J.R. “I’d say a pocketknife up front, and a ‘Rambo’ knife to the back.”

“Worse than that, I would think.” I said. “Probably a pocketknife up front, but from behind it was likely a big blade with brass knuckles for a handle, giving the guy from behind a good, solid grip to take this guy out with a deep shot to the kidneys and spine.”

I stood up and said “Okay, has anyone taken the initiative to secure the videocamera tapes?”

“Yes sir.” said Theo Washington. “We took those immediately. Manager started screaming about a warrant, but I told him we had probable cause.”

“What with a body on the floor, I would say so.” Cindy Ross replied.

“Remind me to steel myself against Captain Ross’s ‘pawky’ vein of humor.” I said with a grin. “I don’t suppose the owner of this fine establishment has shown up, has he?”

“Who’s that, sir?” asked Theo.

“Why, T-Square himself.” canlı casino siteleri I replied. “The man who makes the masses happy.”

“Glad to see you recognize that, I.C.” said a sardonic voice from behind me. I whirled to see T-Square himself, dressed in a dark pinstripe seersucker suit, wearing his trademark eyeshades indoors, some bling around his neck and on his fingers. He was attended by five men, four of them being bodyguards from his ‘Regiment’, the fifth being an attorney.

“Bodies on the floor are not good for business, T-Square.” I said as I approached him. “Not good for business. Any idea who this guy is?”

“No idea at all.” said T-Square, his voice a smooth near-whisper. “I’ve told my Regiment and the employees here to cooperate with you in every way, though my lawyer here will insist on the niceties like warrants and such for anything in the way of paperwork.”

“That will be forthcoming soon, I’m sure.” I said. I noticed everyone watching me and T-Square talking. “All right, guys, let’s get this thing wrapped up, and maybe before the Press gets here, yes?”

“Too late, sir.” said Rudistan. “They pulled up five minutes ago. Already screaming about my guys not letting them through.”

“Ah, crap.” I said. “Definitely keep them outside. In the meantime, I want to speak to the employees who are here.” The employees were gathered around the bar, watching. They were mostly young, dressed up in Punk garb, and mostly white. I came up to them, noticing that the bartendress was an extremely attractive black woman in her late 20s to early 30s, not dressed in Punk gear.

“Guys, I know you didn’t see much,” I said, “and wouldn’t tell us if you did. I just want to know one thing: did any of you hear an altercation, any loud voices or exchanging of words before this guy dropped dead on your floor?”

Everyone shook their heads, but I was making eye contact with the lovely barkeeper. “What’s your name?” I asked.

“Katina.” she replied.

“You had a direct look at the scene, Katina. You didn’t hear any raised voices that would make you look up into the crowd?” I asked, moving towards her as if to exclude everyone else, and make her feel as if she were the only object of my attention.

“No sir.” she said, her eyes looking right into mine, her voice smooth, intelligent, and sensuous. “The first thing I heard were some screams. I looked up and people were running, and that guy was already on the floor.”

“On his back?” I asked.

“Yes sir.” she said.

“Katina, stop calling me ‘sir’.” I said. “I know you’re young, but I’m not that much older than you.” Katina gave me a very pretty smile. I extended my card to her, saying “If you or anyone else thinks of anything, give me a call or at least text me, okay?”

“Sure.” she said, taking the card, and not just out of politeness. After giving her a lingering look, I turned back to the crime scene.

I said. “Okay, I’m done here. T-Square, want to walk out the front door with me? Let the Press see us walking and talking?”

“You are the real deal, I.C.,” said T-Square, knowing I was messing with him as only I could, “but I am not going to ruin my reputation by doing that.”

“Captain Ross, is there anything else you want to see here?” I asked. “Or maybe bore T-Square here with a couple hours of questioning?”

“I’m in a good mood, I’ll spare him.” said Cindy, still exhibiting her pawky humor. “I do have one question, Mr. T-Square: were you already here or did someone call you when this happened?”

“See, I.C.?” said T-Square. “Miss Universe here knows the deal. They should make her Chief, keep your redheaded cracker ass in line.”

“They could do worse.” I said agreeably. “So what’s the answer to her question?”

“The answer is that I was called.” said T-Square. “My Regiment knows to not let bad news get worse with age. I walked in the back right as you walked in the front door.”

Cindy nodded, so I said “Okay, Captain, let’s go. Theo, it’s your case for now…”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As Cindy and I walked outside, we saw KXTC and KSTD vans at the edge of the parking lot. Amber Harris of KXTC was trying to get past the Police cordon.

“Officers,” I said as I came up to them, “if any Media person crosses the cordon line, just arrest them and put them in jail for the night. My personal and direct orders, there.”

“Commander!” yelled Amber Harris, “Why are YOU here?”

“I’m investigating a crime, Ms. Harris.” I replied. “That’s what police officers do.”

“What’s going on in there? Who’s dead?” yelled another reporter in the small crowd.

“Early days yet.” I said. “We’re just starting our investigation, and we’ll provide you with information just as soon as we get it… as long as you stop trying to cross my police officer’s line, here.” I really was getting tired of the Media trying to interfere with investigations, trying to get to the crime scenes and end up screwing them up, evidence-wise.

Have I mentioned that I don’t like the Press?

Cindy and I got into my Police SUV and drove out of there, the Police needing to clear media reporters trying to block our route. Once clear, we headed back to Headquarters.

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