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Tuesday, December 22, 2009

A Dirty Job

A couple of years ago, I submitted a piece of flash fiction to an online lingerie company. This particular company uses sexy stories to sell their product, and pay the writers handsomely. The piece I submitted was part one of a trilogy. Unfortunately, I never heard back from them. So, since I actually put a lot of time into the stories, I thought I'd post them here, one at a time.



A DIRTY JOB

The door burst open like a bargain store bra and I spun with marinated grace. My hand instinctively slipped into my coat for my Luger. The one I’d lost just last week to a queen-high flush. A half empty hip flask had taken its place.
Then I saw her, squeezed into a black baby doll that perfectly hugged every plentiful curve of her body.
“Please help me!”
Her voice was three parts whisper, two parts moan. One part of me in particular sat up and listened. She was blonde, beautiful and built for comfort, though that was no comfort to me. Her lavish chest pumped like a monkey grinding its organ. Lesser lingerie would have collapsed under the strain. I cursed her good taste.
“Hey, doll. Whatever it is’ll have to wait ’til morning. We’re closed.”
“But I’ve just been assaulted!”
“Lady, I ain’t no cop and I sure as hell ain’t no boy scout. Just a lowly private dick.”
“You’re a man, aren’t you? You could offer me a stiff drink and a shoulder to cry on.”
If she thought I wanted her on my shoulder she was aiming high. A full and fleshy filly is always at the top of my to-do list, but I couldn’t let her see my weakness. Not until I knew her angle, and where I fit in. I scanned her again, giving serious thought to frisking her. Very thoroughly. I decided instead to play it cool.
“Sorry lady. My shoulder’s busy with all these chips.”
“Then how about that stiff one?”
“Come again?”
“A drink?”
“Oh. Sure.”
I took down a bottle of cheap bourbon I keep purely for emergencies. Like that time the clock struck four and I was sober. Hell on earth.
I filled two glasses and turned back to her, thinking about fate. She’d come to me for help, and I had to wonder why. Maybe she was my redemption.
“Assaulted you say?”
“More like molested, really.”
“Oh? Where?”
She cupped her breathtaking breast in her hand and squeezed it tenderly. “Here…” She turned and raised her baby doll, revealing her ample bottom, perfectly packaged in a pair of pink panties. “…and here,” she finished, her voice low and hot as simmering gumbo.
My eyes swelled with desire. They weren’t alone. I almost gave myself whiplash as I flung both glasses of rotgut down my throat. My barking nerves soaked up the bittersweet poison and rolled over, surrendering to the tummy-scratching goodness.
“Uh…I meant where…uh…did it occur…ma’am…” My voice sounded like a loose fanbelt. From the hooch, of course.
“Oh, silly me. Now let me think…” She locked her hands behind her neck and stretched. “Oh my. Were they expensive?”
I knelt to scoop up the remnants of my two broken glasses. “Lady, if it don’t eat hay or dance naked I don’t waste bread on it.”
She glanced around my office. “So it would seem.”
For the first time in a dozen bottles I felt ashamed. I scanned the walls, taking in my old newspaper clippings. That only felt like months ago. Then again, there were gaps in my memory you could lose a circus in.
Now, salvation comes in many forms. This dame radiated style and class, from her exquisite underwear to her sassy mouth. A client like her would be a real shot in the arm. A woman like her would be real hot in my arms. It was time to sober up.
“Maybe it’d help to recreate the incident.”
“Good idea, slick. Come stand behind me.” I arrived at the speed of sound. My voice took a moment to catch up.
“What happened first?”
“He came at me from behind.”
“Who wouldn’t?” I mumbled.
“Come again?”
“Nothing.”
“All right. Give me your hands.” I obeyed wordlessly. My skin tingled as her warmth radiated through the mesh of her black gloves. She coaxed one hand out in front of her and drew the other down behind. My voice burst jerkily from my throat.
“And…then…?”
She drew in a deep breath and arched her back. Suddenly the only thing between my hands and her bountiful flesh was the superb, rich fabric of her underwear.
“Then he grabbed me like that.”
My head grew light as my blood pooled elsewhere. “And…what did you do?”
“Why, what any sensible girl would do. This.” She spun quickly and raised her hand, which now caressed a delicate Derringer. And this time she wasn’t aiming high.
“Where did you stash that?” I asked.
“Somewhere very safe. Did you really think I’d let someone touch me uninvited?”
“I don’t…uh…what?” Cool and suave.
“Does the name Colin Flanaghan-O’Hanrahan mean anything to you?”
“The bookie? What’d I ever do to him?”
“His niece, actually. Dolores. She says she loved you.”
I groaned in resignation. Dolores Flanaghan-O’Hanrahan. Probably should’ve made the connection. And I wonder why I’m going broke.
“Shame really,” she mewed. “I kinda liked you.”
“So don’t do it.”
She shook her head sadly. “Not an option. But I’m good. One quick shot will ease all your pain.”
The petite pistol barked and something kicked my chest out from under me. The pain was surprisingly dull and wide. I slid and landed heavily on my well-chewed ass, my shirt already wet.
She dropped her gun and gloves, then brought her delicious dial down level with mine. She traced my lips with hers, and I tasted her tears.
“I’m really sorry. A girl’s gotta eat.”
My heart ached as she left, but it wasn’t just the bullet. Turned out she’d been exactly what I’d needed. Even right to the end.
I reached into my coat. One quick shot would ease all my pain.
I studied my hip flask closely. Particularly the mangled bullet lodged in its side. All that precious liquor…lost.
I smiled wryly. Salvation comes in many forms.

5 comments:

Secretia said...

Three parts whisper, 2 parts moan!

You are an incredible author!

Secretia

Willsin Rowe said...

I would have said 'incredulous', myself.

You guys here are the best! Em, Jenna, Roz, Sarah (in alphabetical order), thanks again for making me feel so welcome. Secretia, and everyone else who reads and comments, please know that we bloggers really appreciate the feedback.

This site is as warm and as fuzzy as... well, let's say 'a teddy bear'...

Rozlyn Sparks said...

Great story Willsin! You have a flair for tantalizing descriptions.

Jenna Alexander said...

I loved it. To me a sign of a good story is one that makes me laugh, raise my eyebrows, gasp, laugh again, etc etc... Great job!

Willsin Rowe said...

Seriously, ladies...you're all too kind...