Penis Size Untruth a Vital Clue

"God, so you do have some use in society. You said a few years ago. How old are you?"

"Thirty-four."

"I thought you were around my age. I'm thirty-four."

"But Gustaf was fifty-two?"

"Yes but he was flamboyant and I thought I wanted to marry an older man."

Harry asked casually, "Do you know if he and Maria had sex?"

"I guess he did. She's a real slut and really puts it around and that cost her two marriages. Sit down and I'll fetch drinks."

"May we have some petting and then a sixty-nine first?"

"Oh boy, you certainly don't waste time. I've been thoughtful by forgetting to wear panties."

Harry sat gloating, hands over something rising, and Lita sighed and walked over to him. He rose and they kissed, so sweetly, rather like a mother and child. And then Lita's mouth opened and her tongue tip pressed between Harry's lips like the head of a dick pressing against pussy. He dropped down a hand and Lita pressed forward, allowing him to cup her pussy. He opened his lips because she was being such a good girl and her tongue darted into his mouth, his tongue rose to meet hers and they slapped their tongues against each other's tongue, entwined tongues momentarily at times and then sucked each other's tongue, ignoring the exchange of saliva. In some ways it was like cocks being in cunts although neither gave any more thought to that than they did to just how unhygienic it was to engage in such behavior. They were having great fun and right now couldn't care a fuck what was written in health manuals.

Lita could feel her tits bulging and her nipples in need of being sucked so she began divesting clothes.

Harry's cock was straining, unable to talk but gave the unmistakable message that it wanted desperately to seek shelter somewhere warm and slippery that would massage it toward violent discharge.

By then Lita was ripping open his shirt, buttons flying about them like missiles, so he unbuckled five times faster than any female could manage it and his trousers dropped and Lita jerked down his underpants and mewed, "God your dick is beautiful." Harry of course knew that women about to have sex tended to hallucinate.

He swept Lita into his arms and threw her on to the sofa and then flung himself on to her, wrong way around that allowed her to greedily take him into her mouth, er a small part of him.

Harry sniffed pussy. Yummy. It was freshly shaven apart from the almost obligatory clipped tuft above the clit. A funny custom that, he thought. Apparently women didn't like hearing guys talk about a women being totally bald. The women would touch their head hair for security and wonder how a guy ever managed to get into those women with real thickets.

Harry's dripping tongue worked up the peach-like contoured extremity and as it slid on to the slit it opened invitingly. He wet a finger and his tongue and now two fingers were in like a hungry horse, inducing Harry to gurgle and snort in delight.

Lita and Harry came to the traditional mistimed albeit very wet conclusions for lovers being together for the first time. They realigned, rosy-faced, sweaty and both oozing and smiled at each other in wonderment, ringing bells deep within.

"You're lovely," he said, and then got diverted, really seeing the swollen tits bared for the first time and he went after them like a dive-bombing pilot.

"You're welcome handsome man," Lita cooed, getting a handful of his tight butt and cooing mindlessly until Harry manfully announced, "I'm hungry."

They drank and finally ate like kings, er king and queen. It was the quality of the cooking that won Harry's heart because in his random experience most babes fucked okay but few could really cook as well as his father, er mother.

After allowing dinner to settle Harry fucked Lita on the table, floor, sofa and on the bed and confirmed that Lita was really a great fuck. He crawled out to his restored 1951 Chevrolet Styleline Deluxe Sport Coupe. He dropped into bed already asleep, his fingers optimistically groping for Lita's breasts. Ah even in his sleep Harry knew he'd found something better to do than using his Glock to exterminate vermin to make the world a better place. His alarm clock woke him at some ungodly hour. He called Lita to thank her and she cut the call moaning, "Oh Harry, not at this ungodly hour." That really confirmed she was female.

* * *

Using trusted contacts Harry spent some bucks and received information about Clyde Harrington's favorite watering hole at lunchtime. He asked no other questions because that could send out messages that Harry had something on Harrington.

Harrington was seated in front of a Guinness in the Irish pub chewing a sausage on rye.

Harry used the mirror behind the bar to study his target. The fleshy face was rife with signs of excessive drinking, confirmed by red-rimmed eyes discernible even from the distance Harry was conducting his appraisal. The conclusion was Harrington was crooked and not nice and that was a really bad combination.

Harry was draining his final Guinness and missed Harrington make his exit. That wasn't very professional, he clucked his tongue in reprimand, but it didn't matter. He went to the toilet to flood the urinal and found Harrington was there on the same mission. Standing more than out of good splash distance away Harry looked over casually and boggled and then silently shouted 'Bingo'. Harrington was shaking off the last drops of bodily processed Guinness and possibly flakes of dried skin from a dick that reached almost to his knees when he released his grip. Harry knew he was looking at the guy Maria had said was hung like a horse. She had wrongly described Gustaf as being like that but had simply been confused and that is quite common amongst women with experience of too many dicks.

"Hi," said Harrington as he left, not bothering to look down as if in expectation Harry's piece would be puny.

"Bingo," Harry replied thoughtfully.

Harrington said "Huh?" and left.

Joyful because of that vital breakthrough Harry patted his dick. "I trust you'll be fully revived for tonight buddy?"

There was no reply.

Harry returned to his office and called Lita on a one hundred percent hunch.

"Oh hi darling," she cooed. "Are the city's little old lady petty criminals safe from you today?"

Darling? Oh boy.

"Listen baby you need to act fast. Instruct your accountant now to advise Maria you wish to sell out of the company immediately and you are giving her twenty-four hours to come up with the cash you want otherwise you'll sell to a competitor waiting in the wings and with it holding majority ownership the competitor would pay only peanuts for Maria's holding if she wished to sell."

"What's the hurry to sell?"

"To get out before the shit hits the fan."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Trust me."

"But I don't really know you well enough yet to trust you."

"That's female bullshit. You trusted me with your pussy."

"Oh yes. I expect you'll want to exercise my trust in you again tonight?"

"Yeah. Meet me at the White Lady restaurant at 5:30 for dinner."

"That's early."

"That means I leave your apartment early after you become exhausted."

"Oh yes, how thoughtful of you darling. You obviously think beyond pussy."

Eh? Sometimes Harry just couldn't understand women. Didn't Lita understand he also required recovery sleep?

* * *

On Friday evening Harry solved the murder, er triggered the investigation that allowed the police to solve Gustaf de Graff's murder.

The guys met as usual for a bit of bowling around the need to drink beer. Police Sergeant Ivan Hook slipped Harry two sheets of the police record on Clyde Harrington. Harry excused himself, saying he needed a crap, and sat in a stall and read the document. What he found was disappointing, a couple of arrests on suspicion and released on the grounds of insufficient evidence and a list of petty stuff. There was nothing to identify Harrington as being criminally bent. Harry sighed, nearing the end of the list and then he boggled. A week ago Harrington had been stopped on suspicion of being drunk while driving. He tested okay, just inside the permissible limit. The second cop noticed a gun holster in the side pocket of the vehicle. Harrington finally confessed the weapon was unlicensed. It was seized and he was booked and released to appear in court in a month's time after he indicated he wished to defend the offence.

Harry returned to the bar and pulled Ivan into a quiet corner and told him Harrington was probably Graff's killer.

Ivan scratched his butt. "We would have interviewed him as the investigation team would have interviewed anybody in the company with even only a minor connection with the victim."

"Harrington only appeared on the scene some weeks after the murder," said Harry. "Therefore he wouldn't have been a prime suspect."

"How did you get on to it Harry?"

"Because he's hung like a horse."

"What?"

"It doesn't matter."

"There's little point trying to do anything tonight Harry but just stay clear please. In the morning I'll get the lieutenant to order an urgent ballistics test on Harrington's gun in our possession and compare what we find with the two bullets found remaining in de Graff's body."

"Thanks pal. My pick is you'll get a police medal for your initiative on this."

Harry called Lita. "Hi, what are you doing?"

"It's Friday night Harry. I'm with my girlfriends drinking."

"Is that check banked?"

"It was automatic transfer. I've confirmed it's in my accountant's trust account."

"Good and leave it there for a while. Ask her for 80% of the interest earned."

"Is something happening Harry?"

"I can't say."

"Oh god, you darling."

Harry only just heard that when cutting the call.

Ivan called Harry next day when Harry was battling with his washing. He was fuming thinking he needed a woman because women did that task lovingly and efficiency. He'd seen the TV ads. He always goofed putting in too much soap powder even though the pack came with a measure. He always put more in without thinking for, er, good measure.

His phone went.

"Great news pal. We have a match. Our guys say without doubt. The only problem is our creep could claim he found the gun a couple of months ago dumped under his car or something like that. We really want to nail this one. We are in the process of bringing both of them in separately and will keep them apart. We'll work on her, indicating she could receive a much lighter sentence by becoming cooperative with police investigations and with the prosecution, providing it was the creep who fired the shots. You won't hear anything about this because it is being done very quietly. My guess the chief will speak to the media Monday. He likes making his big announcements at 11:00 to get it on the TV news at midday and that initiates a media scramble to come up with fresh news leads on those facing trial and sometimes that can be helpful to the police."

"Thanks pal, you're worthy of a medal."

* * *

On Monday just before noon Harry seated the protesting Lita at a table in a bar looking up to the TV screen. "My boss doesn't like people taking their lunch hour early. My fixed time is one o'clock."

The news began, showing the Chief of Police with a 'screaming' line of text, 'Sensational Police Breakthrough'.

Harry nodded to the waiting bartender who popped the cork of bottle of French champagne."

"Stop your bitching darling and watch this. It's what you hired me to do isn't it"

"Ohmigod," Lita screamed, as two people were shown being handcuffed. "That's Maria Valenziano and her gunman Clyde Harrington. Oh darling, thank you."

Other people already in the bar or arriving gathered around them to hear the newsreader say, "These two being charged with the murder of prominent businessman Gustaf de Graff almost fifteen months ago appears to confirm the innocent of his wife Lita de Graff. Mrs de Graff consistently protested her innocence throughout her trial that led to her acquittal, a decision that much angered police in this city at the time. We understand a chance suggestion by Police Sergeant Ivan Hook, who worked on the original murder investigation, to have a ballistic test done on an unregistered pistol taken from Harrington only last week, launched a fresh investigation into de Graff's murder.

Bubbling Lita said, "Oh boy Harry are you going to get it tonight and I'm never going to let you go."

"Shucks Lita, people around us are listening."

"Ohmigod," shouted a woman. "Look it's Lita de Graff."

"Guilty," laughed Lita standing. She called, "Katie a drink on the house for everyone here. Everyone, this is my ace private investigator Harry Ash. He cracked the case, not the police, but the police were needed to bring the real culprits to justice."

Lita paused for breath and said, "Make that champagne Katie for anyone who wants it. Harry and I are announcing we are getting married."

That announcement surprised Harry.

Lita had only just realized with $3.43 million safely in her bank there was no need to go back to work. Furthermore thanks to Harry what happened to the company now was not her concern. But Harry was. Perhaps he'd like a partner to help with delicate parts of investigations.

THE END