Date: Sun, 09 May 2004 08:14:38 -0700
From: Donna G <bettyboop4717@hotmail.com>
Subject: Robin Hoode

"Robin Hoode...P.I."
by BettyBoop4717@hotmail.com

My name is Robin Hoode. Yeah...I know...but what
can I tell you? My old lady must have got laid in
Sherwood Forest or something, wherever in the fuck
Sherwood Forest is. England I think. Don't laugh! It
could have happened!  I'm a PI, licensed in the state of
Indiana. Indianapolis, Indiana. Sounds exciting, doesn't
it? Yeah...just about as exciting as a used Tampax!

It was raining like hell that late Tuesday afternoon.
After I locked up my rathole of an office, I slid into my
dented Camaro and pulled out into the traffic. As usual,
my fucking wipers were wigging out on me again so I
had to try to look between the raindrops to even drive. I
pulled to the curb in front of the first bar I came to,
deciding to wait the rain out with a cool drink in my
Hand.

The bar was one of those neighborhood joints that are
scattered around town. You know the ones I mean...a
jukebox and a pool table.  They should have named this
one No Cheers after that dipshit TV show. There was
an old geezer sitting at the end of the bar nursing a beer,
his bleary eyes focusing on my legs as I slid onto the
barstool. I know better than to wear a short skirt like I
had on, but it helps to flash some leg when the
prospective customer is male. Sometimes even
women... I'm an equal opportunity flasher.

The female bartender glided to a stop in front of me.
She had bleached her hair so fucking many times it was
some indiscriminate shade between red and blonde, and
she had as much make-up painted on her face as that
preacher's wife used to wear. Tammy Faye or whatever
the fuck her name was. It only took me a second to
check out her hair, but a little longer for me to check
out her tits! She was wearing a push-up bra of some
kind because those puppies were trying to climb out of
her pretty pink blouse. I would have bet the farm this
bitch made a lot of tips just for letting the customers
ogle her knockers.

"Hi," she said now, her eyes boring into mine. "What
can I get you."

I stared right back at her, then slowly and deliberately
scraped my tongue across my lips. It had been a long
time since I had cuddled up to some soft marshmallow
piece of fluff. I wondered if besides being a bartender
she might have an after hours gig as well. "A Coors
light," I smiled at her. "And anything else you might
have to offer."

Her brown eyes turned suspicious."You a cop?"

"Nah," I shook my head. "Well...sort of. I'm a PI." I
figured I might need information from her sometime.
You never know. "But I'm on my own time now," I
added with what I hoped was a sexy smile.

She turned her head to glance at the far end of the bar
where a balding man was washing glasses at the bar
sink. Reaching into the cooler, she brought up a bottle
of Coors and set it on the bar in front of me. "I don't
usually make it with women. Especially not with the
bowwows that come in here. For you I might make an
exception. Which way do you swing? You do or get
done?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Whatever!"

"Thirty if I do you...twenty if you do me." She leaned
her elbows on the bar and smiled at me. "I'm clean,"
she said. "Shaved too."

A shaved pussy! Sold! "When and where, brown eyes?"

She glanced at her wrist. "I can take a thirty minute
break right now. My apartment is just upstairs."

How fucking convenient, I thought to myself. I'd bet
that this bitch did a lot of after hours business upstairs!
I took a swallow of beer, then smiled at her. "I think I'll
go for the thirty dollar special. You do me!"

"The stairway is in the back," she said. "Just give me
five minutes then go around the building and come on
up."

Without waiting for an answer, she turned on her heels
and moved to the end of the bar to say something into
the other bartender's ear. Then with one more glance
over her shoulder my way, she went into the back. I
took my time finishing my beer, then slid off the
barstool. The white haired asshole at the end of the bar
was still looking at me, so as I slid off the stool I spread
my knees wide apart to give him a look up under my
skirt. All he could see was my panties but he was
choking on his beer as I slid out the door and into the
rain.

                                             *

By the time I had went around the building to the back I
was soaking wet, my blouse plastered on me like a
second skin. I pushed the wooden door open and
squished my way wetly up the stairs to the top where
she was waiting. "In here," she said, pushing a door
open. "I'm sorry you got wet!" I stepped into the room,
looking quickly behind the door. Force of habit I guess.
I just don't like surprises.

It was really little more than a bedroom with a tiny
kitchen at the far end. But everything was clean and the
bed looked freshly made up. She locked the door and
looked at me expectantly. Understanding where she was
coming from, I dug my wallet out of my purse and
fished out a twenty and a ten and handed it to her. She
pocketed the money in her jeans, then smiled at me as
she began to unfasten them.

"Are you going to take your clothes off?"

I mentally shrugged my shoulders and pulled my still
wet blouse up and over my head, hooking it over the
bedpost. By the time I had stripped off my bra, she was
already naked. When I looked down at her shaved
pussy my stomach turned a somersault. The word is that
whores don't kiss, but when I yanked her into my arms
and planted one on her she sure as hell didn't try to stop
me. She just rammed her tongue into my mouth and
belly fucked me right there by the bed.

I guess I must have forgot that I was the "doee" and not
the "doer" because I just pushed her down on the bed
and I kneeled down on the carpeted floor between her
legs. She made a little squeal as I pressed my face into
her crotch, then hooked her legs over my shoulders
when I started licking that gorgeous pussy. Using my
fingers, I pulled her cunt lips apart and jammed my
tongue as deep inside her snatch as I could get it. Then I
sucked her clit between my lips and started swirling my
tongue like I enjoy having someone do me. I slid one
hand under her cheeks and my middle finger slipped
into her asshole.

I could hear her start to moan softly above my head as I
finger fucked her ass and tried to suck her insides out. It
was only a minute before she arched her back and
started coming, a squirt of piss hitting my tongue. The
bitch could have told me she was a squirter, but it
wasn't all that bad. I licked her a minute longer, then I
rose shakily to my feet to stand beside the bed looking
down at her. She was just starting to get her breath back
and she looked up at me with those baby brown eyes.

"Do you ever arrest people?" she asked out of nowhere.

"In a way," I nodded. "Bail jumpers and people like
that. Why?"

"She actually blushed a little. "Do you ever have to get
rough with them? The people you arrest I mean?"

"Once in a while," I nodded. I was beginning to get her
drift. "Sometimes I have to slap them around and make
them behave."

"Really? I guess I didn't behave a few minutes
ago...you know...when I peed in your mouth? I'm
sorry! Maybe you should punish me?"

"Do you think I should punish you?"

"Uh-hunh."

I leaned down and slapped her on the side of her face.
Hard! She grunted and slid a hand in between her legs. I
slapped her again and she started fingering herself. I
climbed onto the bed and straddled her head and
smashed my cunt down onto her face. I started
smacking her on her tits and sides like I was riding a
fucking horse in the rodeo and she was licking my
pussy like there was no tomorrow and then I was
coming in wave after wave of sensations...

It had stopped raining when I got downstairs again into
the Camaro. The bitch had kissed me again and almost
begged me to take my money back, but I made her keep
it. She had earned it. I wondered how she was going to
explain the redness on her cheeks when she went back
downstairs. Shit...they were probably used to it. I was
pretty fucking sure I wasn't the first one she had asked
to rough her up a little. I drove to my crummy
apartment and fell into bed.

                                         *

The guy bounced into my office two days later.
Thursday, the 17th.  He introduced himself as Roger
Carlton, then sat down on the other side of my desk
facing me. Somewhere past forty, he wasn't all that bad
looking. Slightly balding, the beginnings of a gut, he
smiled nervously at me across the desk. I got up and
circled the desk to sit on the edge of it, crossing my legs
to make him relax.

"I think my wife is cheating on me with another man,"
he said, reluctantly moving his eyes away from my
legs. "She hasn't been home from work until late
several times in the last two or three weeks. I want you
to find out for me! Her name is Catherine. Cathy is her
nickname!"

"My rate is Forty an hour plus expenses," I said,
judging he could afford it with the suit he had on. "I'll
need a two hundred dollar retainer." He pulled his
checkbook out and quickly filled out the check. I
dropped it casually behind me on the desk. "So tell me
about your wife. Did you bring a photo?"

"Yes," he nodded, digging into his inside pocket. "Here
it is."

She was younger than he was. A lot younger from the
look of the photo. Brunette and pretty, a real knockout!
I figured this dude was already in trouble. "Where does
she work?" I asked. "And what are her hours?"

"She's a receptionist at a dental office. Doctor Harold
Stern on North Meridian. She's supposed to get off at
five o'clock, but sometimes she doesn't get home until
after ten. Say's she had to work late and then stopped
for a drink."

"Did she ever tell you where she stops for that drink?"

"Yeah. The Purple Tree Lounge there at 16th and
Meridian."

"I know the place," I nodded. "It might take me two or
three days before I'll be able to tell you anything. It all
depends on your wife. I'll see where she goes after
work."

I slid off of the desk to my feet, his eyes on my legs
again. "Give me an address and a phone number where
I can reach you."

He reached in his pocket again and handed me a
business card. It read:
                                   Roger Carlton
                                     Investments
                 403 71st Street       Broadripple, Indiana
                                      555-7474

We shook hands and he was gone.

                                           *

At least it wasn't raining, but it was boring sitting in the
Camaro across the street from the dental office from
3:30 on. She came out at exactly six minutes after five.
And I was right. She was a knockout. I watched the
wiggle of her ass as she walked to a late model
Mercedes. Yeah...there was money floating around in
that family. I waited until she turned south on Meridian
then fell in about a block behind her. She drove straight
to the Purple Tree Lounge and I felt like yipping with
delight. This one might be easy.

I waited until she went inside the combination Motel
and Lounge, then parked my car in a no parking zone
and hung my PI card in the window. Sometimes it
works, sometimes it doesn't. All you can do is roll the
fucking dice and hope. I crossed the street and went
into the entrance of the Motel. The lounge was on the
right and it was so dimly lit that I stood just inside the
door until my eyes adjusted. I saw the mark sitting at a
table by herself. Crossing the room, I slid onto the stool
and ordered a Coors from the young, pony-tailed hunk
behind the bar.

Where I was sitting gave me a good vantagepoint to
keep an eye on her. She was drinking something in a
tall glass and seemed entirely unconcerned about
anything. I motioned the young dude behind the bar to
come nearer. "Excuse me, honey," I smiled my "get in
my panties" smile at him. "That woman sitting over
there? I think I might know her but can't remember her
name. Do you happen to know who she is?"

"Yeah. Her name is Cathy. She comes in once or twice
a week and sits by herself and has three or four drinks.
Nice lady. She never lets any of the guys that come in
buy her a drink or anything. A lot of them try too. She
just sits there by herself and then leaves about nine
thirty or so."

"Thanks," I said, pushing a five spot across the bar,
which quickly disappeared into his shirt pocket. I
looked at the mark again. This was getting "curiouser
and curiouser" as the saying goes. If she isn't playing
around on her husband with another guy, what the fuck
IS she doing? She doesn't drink that much to be a lush.
There had to be something going on, but what?
Well...there was one way to find out. I grabbed my
beer and walked over to her table.

"Excuse me," I said. "May I join you for just a few
minutes?"

She looked up at me, startled. "I..I suppose so...but..."

"It's okay," I said quickly. "You and I need to chat just
a little bit." I sat down across from her. "What I'm
doing is a little unethical I think, but what the hell. I'm
a private investigator. Your husband hired me. He
thinks you're running around on him!"

"What?!?" she exclaimed, her beautiful eyes widening
in honest surprise. "Running around on him? That's
ridiculous! Why would he think that, for goodness
sake?"

"Oh...I don't know," I responded, unable to keep the
sarcasm from my tone of voice. "Do you think maybe it
could be because when you get off work you come here
to this bar until ten or so?"

"But...but my husband knows I'm here," she said. "I
tell him I come here several times a week. I always
hope he will show up so we could...sort of...just play
around a little bit. You know...pretend and stuff?"

It all jelled together in a heartbeat! She was just trying
to spice up their sex life and her dumbass of a husband
couldn't even see it! What a prick! I had to laugh. "I'm
sorry...may I call you Catherine?...I'm sorry...I guess
you need to hit your old man with a sledgehammer or
something! My name is Robin...Robin Hoode."

She giggled. "Robin Hoode? You gotta be kidding!"

"Nope," I grinned. "It's for real. Haven't you ever
talked to your husband about spicing up your sex
lives?"

"Of course," she shrugged. Then she blushed a deep
shade of red. I could even see the blush as dark as it
was in the bar. "But he only said he'd like to see
me...with another woman." She averted her eyes from
mine in embarrassment.

`This can't be fucking real,' I thought to myself. `No
way I can get two women in the same week. Especially
not one that looks like she just stepped out of the pages
of Glamour Magazine.' I took a sip of my beer. "So
why don't you just give your husband what he wants,
then maybe he'll give you what you want."

"You mean I should be with another woman? I couldn't
do that! I mean...even if I wanted to...I don't know
any women who I could...you know."

"Sure you do," I said softly, looking directly into her
eyes as I spoke. "You know me!"

"You?" She cleared her throat nervously. "You're
gay?"

"I'm beginning to get that feeling," I smiled at her. "I'd
much rather think I'm more a  bi-sexual though. I mean
I still dig men!"

"You're very pretty," she said. She glanced quickly
about to make certain no one was within earshot. "I
have fantasized about it at times. Being with another
woman I mean." Her voice was so low I could barely
hear her.

I smiled at her. "This is a Motel. We could get a room if
you like. Then you could call your husband and invite
him over after explaining to him what was up!"

"I wouldn't want the bartender to know that we were
leaving together," she said. "I'd be embarrassed."

That was as good as a yes. "I'll go back to the bar," I
said. "You go out to the front and get a room. Get a
room on the third floor and I'll meet you at the third
floor elevator in twenty minutes."

She chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip for a long
moment, then simply nodded her head. I made a big
thing out of telling her bye and returned to my stool at
the bar and ordered another beer. She waited about five
minutes then picked up her purse and left, not even
glancing at me on her way out. It occurred to me that
she might just keep walking out to her Mercedes but I'd
just have to wait and see. Then the bartender said
something to me and I looked at him.

"What did you say?" I asked him. "I didn't hear you!"

"I said she's beautiful," he grinned at me. "Have fun!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" I growled at
him.

"C'mon baby," he smiled. "I've been a bartender for a
long time. That last beer is on the house!" I just sat
there and shook my head. Fucking bartenders. You
don't get much past the good ones. I pushed another fin
across the bar to him and got off the stool and left.

The elevator was empty when I got on and pushed
three. In spite of myself, I could feel a little flutter in
the pit of my stomach. I was gonna be one disappointed
bitch if she wasn't waiting for me. But she was there, in
the hall waiting for me. I followed her into room 304
and made sure she locked the door. It was a typical
motel room, bed, small table, nightstand and telephone.
She stood in the middle of the room looking at me.

"Should I call my husband now?"

"Yeah," I said. "But lay down here on the bed before
you call him. When he's on the phone, don't tell him
who I am...just tell him that you're in the motel room
with another woman, than tell him exactly what is
happening...step by step...okay?"

"Okay," she agreed, then lay down on the bed still fully
clothed and picked up the phone. I sat down on the edge
of the bed beside her. I nodded my head and she
reached over and picked up the phone and punched in
the number. Her voice shook just a little bit when she
spoke into the phone.

"Roger? It's me. I don't want you to say anything...I
just want you to listen, okay? I'm in a motel room with
a woman. Right now she is sitting on the edge of the
bed beside me and now she...she is unbuttoning the
front of my blouse. What do you mean you don't
believe me? Here...I'll prove it." She shoved the phone
at me.

I knew he wouldn't recognize my voice. "Hi...I'm here
with your wife." Then I finished unbuttoning the blouse
and pulling it off of her shoulders.

"Are you satisfied now? Okay...she just took my
blouse off and now she's undoing my skirt. Now it's off
and I'm just in my panties and bra. No...the blue ones
with all the lace...she's...she's kissing me on the
stomach now...yes...it feels nice...no...my bra is still
on...yes...my nipples are hard...you know... how you
call them little erections...yes...she's making me
hot... do you want to come join us?yes...she says it
would be okay if you did...yes...the Purple Tree
Motel...room 304...no...she's just kissing me on the
outside of my panties...no...I didn't wear pantyhose
today...okay...I'll leave the door unlocked...just come
on in...remember...room 304...bye."

I raised my face from her panty-covered crotch and
smiled at her. "He'll be sporting a hard-on all the way
here! You wanna just wait for him...or maybe get a
little practice in before he gets here?"

"You'd better unlock the door for him. Are you going
to let him...do it...to you?"

I got up and unlocked the door. Then I moved to sit on
the edge of the bed again. "Do "it" to me? What the
fuck are you...in high school?  Do you mean am I
gonna let your old man fuck me? That's up to you,
sweetness!"

"I've never heard a woman talk dirty. It's sexy."

"Is it? Why don't we pull these panties down so I can
get a look at your pussy?"

She didn't resist when I hooked my fingers into the
elastic waistband and skimmed the panties down her
legs. Her beaver was trimmed and looking very fucking
edible and I could actually see her stomach roll with
excitement when I bent down and pretended her cunt
was an ice cream cone. She squirmed her crotch against
my face as I began eating her in earnest, tongue fucking
her like crazy! I was so into eating her pussy that I
didn't even hear the door open behind me.

"I see you two started without me."

I raised my face from her crotch and twisted my head
around to look at him. "Hi."

"Hello. Miss Hoode," he smiled, just as if it were the
most natural thing in the world to find me eating out his
wife's cunt. "Nice to see you again. But tell me...why
are you still dressed?"

I laughed and shrugged my shoulders, then stood up
and began removing my clothes. As he stepped out of
his silk boxer shorts, his dick was standing straight up,
thick and round as a fucking sausage. Now I knew why
this pretty bitch stayed with him. Moving towards me,
he pushed me onto the bed onto my stomach and gently
pressed the back of my head until my face was buried
in his wife's crotch again. As my tongue flicked out, I
felt the head of his cock probing at my cunt lips, then
he was inside me and, deep and thick.

"Fuck her, Rog... fuck her hard!"

`What happened to little Miss Goody two-shoes?' I
thought to myself as he began ramming it to me. And
then I was trying to get my entire head inside her pussy
and I was coming like I hadn't come in a long time. The
next hour went by in a blur of fucking and
sucking...him on her...her going down on me...me
laying on top of her with our mouth glued together as
he stuffed that big schlong into my ass...all our bodies
sticky and wet from the fluids of one another's body. It
was when we were all three sated and sitting together
on the bed that the pretty bitch dropped the bombshell.

"I told you so, Roger! I told you it would work!"

"You were right, baby," he grinned. "Miss
Hoode...how about I give you another two hundred and
we call it even?"

"Wait a minute," I said. "Back up the fucking sex truck!
What's going on here?"

"It's quite simple," he smiled at me, patting me on the
knee.  My darling wife agreed to have a menage a troix
with another woman, and myself but she absolutely
refused to engage the services of a prostitute, as it were.
At her suggestion, I perused the yellow pages of the
phone book and selected several names of female
private investigators. Fortunately for us, you were the
first one I called upon."

"You can imagine my astonishment when I saw how
attractive you are. Of course neither Cathy nor I could
be certain you would let yourself be seduced by another
woman, so we contrived things so that it would be you
who did the seducing, if you will. I hope you aren't too
offended at the ruse, my dear."

I had to laugh. They had baited the hook and reeled me
in like a fish. "Glad to be of service to you both," I
grinned. "Don't hesitate to call me if I can be of any
further service to either of you." As we all got dressed,
Catherine managed to get a word in when her husband
went to the bathroom.

"I'll call you," she said quickly. "Is that okay?"

I brushed my lips fleetingly against hers. "Any time,
sweetness...anytime at all."

End