Today's Wank Wednesday prompt word is #shadow. For more info on this writing challenge and for links to the other stories visit the Word Ejaculation site.
I, A Dick
What horniness lurks in the panties of women? The Shadow knows.
I'm The Shadow. Not the one who was the subject of the radio show in the 30s. He died ages ago. It's one of those things like with The Phantom - a new one takes the place of the old when they get past it.
But, like the original Shadow, I have a prominent proboscis and I make my living by sticking it into other people's business. I'm a private eye - a dick. Unlike my predecessors though, I don't solve murders. Cheating wives are my specialty.
My name comes from my ability, using my dark cloak and dark hat, to fade into the shadows when tailing someone. I have a talent for virtual invisibility. Virtual invisibility comes through the combined effect of two talents :
1. Knowing where someone will be looking.
2. Being somewhere else.
This is the tale of what happened when I was hired to investigate famed erotic romance novelist Tamara Tingle (clearly not her real name). Her husband, publishing magnate Nigel Knobworthy (unfortunately his real name), suspected that not all of Tamara's libido surplus was being sublimated into her literary works. His instincts told him that other boners than his had been playing in what he considered his personal rumpus room.
First I followed her down to the post office around noontime. It was a small one-man post office. I slipped in inconspicuously and pretended to be looking at the funny birthday cards.
"I've got a package for you," Tamara said to Postman Pat (his real name and he gets so much shit about it), "do you have a package for me."
"Coooorrrrrrr!" replied the veteran stamp-licker, leering at Tamara's thoughtfully displayed cleavage. Clearly the two were on familiar terms.
Pat hurried over to the door. He closed it, locked it and turned outward the sign which read "Out to Lunch". Neither of them noticed my presence behind the display stand of discount-priced Andre Rieu DVDs.
"Mmmmm, you do have a package for me," sighed Tamara as they headed out into the back room. She was fondling Pat's erect penis through his regulation trousers.
Pat picked her up and lay her on the mail table.
"I'm afraid you'll have to stay here," he told her. "We aren't allowed to post anything that might catch fire, and you are way to hot."
Tamara giggled and unzipped his pants, pulling out his rock hard cock.
"Wow!" she exclaimed. "Your prick's gone postal!"
He grabbed a sheet of stamps and tore off two of them. Then he licked her pert pink nipples and slapped a picture of Queen Elizabeth's face on each of them.
"I hope your package isn't too big to fit in my slot," smiled Tamara, as he pulled off her dress and slid down her panties. He gave her stiff clit a good licking and decorated that too with the smiling face of the matriarch of the Windsor clan.
He then picked up a magic marker and wrote an address on her little round belly :
Tamara Tingle
1 Wet Pussy Way
Orgasmville 0000
Heaven
"Mmmmmmm, send me there... send me there..." pleaded the notorious novelist of naughtiness.
Pat grabbed her legs and slid his postman's prick deep into her hot horny hole.
"Your post and my box," she moaned, "the perfect team."
She came over and over again. Pat wanted to keep going, but he could hear people knocking on the door wanting to mail their letters. So he pulled out of her well-satisfied pussy and ejaculated all over the queen's face.
I recorded it all on my camera phone.
The pair dressed quickly, then Pat unlocked the door. I walked out backwards so that he would think I was walking in. So far so good.
That night I examined the evidence carefully, so carefully, in fact, that I used up a whole box of tissues.
The next day Tamara gave a lecture on genre writing at the local university.
After the lecture I stood nearby listening to her conversing with an under-graduate.
"How's our little charity organisation going?" she asked.
"If you are in the mood to give until it hurts," he replied, "there are fifteen poor unfortunates in need or your assistance."
I followed them to a deserted classroom. The fifteen unfortunates turned out to be the entire university Dungeons and Dragons Club and the dilemma from which they needed to be liberated was the state of virginity.
At first they were a little shy, but once they realised that they could role a dice to see who got to stick their cock into which hole, they took to this new group activity like ducks to water. [Or like a second-rate author of humorous erotica to a well-worn cliche. Ed.]
"You guys are going to do fine now you've lost your cherries," she reassured them, as she squeezed her bum-hole around a spotted youth's sizeable cock, while a fat hairy guy fucked her juicy cunt and the rest wanked off in the wings. She didn't just pay lip service to their carnal talents, she used her luscious lips on their cocks and balls as well.
Half way through the orgy a hot girl walked in on them.
"Wow!" she cried. "Can girls join the Dungeons and Dragons Club?"
"Sure!" cried the guys in unison.
"If I'd known you got nude and played for fuck forfeits," she informed them, pulling off her t-shirt to reveal her massive bra-less boobs, "I would have applied ages ago."
"Much has been achieved here today," Tamara's friend told her, giving her a kiss on her way out.
"Who's that dude with the cloak and black hat?" asked the fat hairy guy. But by the time the others looked I was gone.
I can't give you the name of the guy Tamara visited on the following day, because he is a famous best-selling horror novelist. They had met up during the filming of a documentary on the creative process a few months before.
Now he was back in town and he invited Tamara to join him in his hotel room that evening.
I disguised myself as room service in a tear-away velcro-fastened uniform like strippers use. While the pair were hoeing into their grub, I whipped off the white uniform and merged with the bedroom curtains.
After their meal, Tamara had a shower and came back to lie naked on the bed while her Stephen-King-competing companion attended to his own ablutions.
The lights were off in the room. A slice of light shone through the door, illuminating the wall facing the bed. Suddenly, Tamara screamed as a sinister shadow fell across the wall. It was the shadow of a massive erect cock and it was coming to get her.
The cock which threw the shadow, of course, was not really that big. It was an optical illusion. But it was big enough. Tamara lit a candle beside the bed. In the flickering light she watched the figure that approached the bed. It was naked except for a hockey mask. And its cock clearly had evil intentions.
"Jab me, Jason!" cried Tamara, enthusiastically. "Fuck me, Freddy! Leatherface, be my lover! Choose me, Chucky!"
"Chucky?" queried the masked maniac.
"I like Chucky," she replied, defensively. "He's cute."
"Stab! Stab! Stab! Stab! Stab!" he cried, as he punished her pussy by pounding it with his prick.
"Oh, yeah!" she moaned. "Kill me more! Kill me more!" And she quivered through several orgasms.
"You really are my little scream queen," he smiled evilly, as he sat back on his heals brandishing his still rampant weapon.
"A pity I'm not having my period," she laughed. "Then it would really be a gore-fest."
For a horror author, he appeared to be a bit squeamish at this suggestion and moved on to the next scenario.
"After emerging from the steamy swamp the hideous beast proceeded to terrorise the gorgeous village maiden," he intoned as he slid his hard cock up over Tamara's belly and between her boobs heading for her face.
"Oh, God!" she screamed, "surely this is the spawn of Hell itself. I've never seen anything so hideous... all purple and veiny, and with one horrible lifeless eye staring at me..."
"The monster gave a spasming twitch," groaned the scribe of scariness, as his cock gave in to the delicious sensation of sliding up over the soft flesh of her chin, "and drenched the poor maiden with it's ectoplasm." With this he shot spurt after spurt of his creamy cum all over her face.
Tamara giggled.
"I got slimed!" she cried, smearing his jism all over her cheeks and blowing cum-bubbles with it.
"I was trying for Cthulu mythos and you turned it into Ghostbusters!" he cried in exasperation.
"I like Ghostbusters," replied Tamara. "It has Bill Murray in it. I wish I had Bill Murray in me."
I couldn't help it. I laughed. The number one thing you are supposed to not do when being invisible.
"Who are you?" they wanted to know.
"The Shadow. Private Dick. Hired by Mr. Knobworthy," I introduced myself.
"My husband's jealous?" she asked. "That's sweet. Really it is."
"I'm afraid I'll have to present him with the evidence I've gathered," I explained. "I don't like to do it, but its my job."
"I love my husband," Tamara replied. "That's why I fuck other men. It would be cruel to drain such an important man with all of my sexual needs. We have a good sex life within its limits. But I need more and he doesn't. I don't love any of these other men I have sex with. They love me, of course. How could they not. But its just sex for me."
"I think I'll step out and get some air," said the horror author. "This is getting a bit too personal. Feel free to make yourselves at home until you've sorted this all out."
"Give me all the evidence," suggested Tamara when we were alone, "and I'll suck your cock like it's never been sucked before."
"When you say 'like it's never been sucked before' are we just talking about some kind of weird technique, which might even be painful?" I asked.
"No, I mean your cock will be Romeo and my tongue will be Juliet, only this time they'll get the happy ending they so richly deserve," she explained.
"Oh, O.K.," I replied.
All of my cases have ended pretty much the same way. One of these days I'll learn to resist the wiles of women. Until then I'll just have to keep up my second job as a parking inspector.
The End
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