The Rockhard Files - Jesse Ch. 01

Dana's old friend Jesse unexpectedly stopped by her RV on the beach the other day. Dana and Jesse used be tight. Then they ran with two different crowds and drifted apart. The last time they'd seen each other was just before Jesse got sent upstate for armed robbery and possession of a controlled substance. Jesse looked good. She'd put on some badly needed weight. Her eyes weren't sunken back into her head. She'd apparently cleaned up her act and kicked her drug habit.

After a couple hours of catching up, and a couple of beers, Jesse finally said, "Hey Dana, c'mere, I've got something to show you." She led her to the parking lot next to the RV and popped the trunk of her beat up old Impala.

Dana's eyes opened wide. "Jesus Christ! Where the fuck did you get those?!" There in the trunk were a Sig Sauer P320, a Glock 19, a Colt M5, and an IWI Carmel.

Jesse laughed at her reaction. "I know, right?! This rich dude I'm workin' for, he gets these deliveries all the time! One of the crates popped open and, viola! I figured he wouldn't miss a couple."

Dana looked at her friend. "With your record?! He's got you around these things with your record?! Who's the dumbass that hired you?"

Jesse laughed again. "I know, right?! I mean, it's almost like you're askin' for a couple of these to walk away! Dude's name is Rich Atkins. You know him?"

Dana knew of him. "Rich Atkins? You mean the producer/director/whatever?" Jesse nodded her head. Atkins was one of the most powerful men in town. She'd heard things, but they were only rumors. Dana was admiring one of the guns, feeling its weight, looking through the sight. "This is a fuckin' Glock 19. Fuckin' Navy SEALS carry these around! These are impossible to get!"

Jesse laughed again. "You want it? It's yours!"

Dana was tempted. Then she thought about it. "Fuck no I don't want it! This thing is so hot it's burning my hand!" She laid it back in the trunk of the car. "What the fuck are you gonna do with these?"

"Well, I was hopin' you might know of, you know, somebody who might be interested in, you know, buying them off me. I mean, you know people, right? Doing what you do, you have to know people!"

Dana was a 31-year-old, tan, tall, buxom blonde. She lived in a fifth wheel RV on the plot of beach her grandfather had left to her, where he had lived for years. He had been a private eye back in his day and Dana, being his only grandchild, was the apple of his eye. He taught her everything he knew about investigating. He left her everything in his will, meaning she could lay on her beach all day if she wanted to. But her grandfather had taught her well and she was good at it. She enjoyed helping people, even though they could be a pain in the ass most of the time. Jesse had quickly become a pain in the ass.

Dana thought about it. "I might know of a couple of people," she said reluctantly. "Let me make a couple of phone calls. Call me in a couple of days and I'll let you know."

"Great! You're the best, Rock!" Only a handful of her best friends called her "Rock". Jesse wasn't one of them. Nobody had called her that in years. It made her flinch.

"Yeah, sure, no problem." It was a problem. Dana knew it was.

"Okay! Well, I'll let you get back to your private eye stuff. Thanks for the beers! I'll call you in a couple of days!"

Two days came and went with no call from Jesse. Which was fine with Dana. She hadn't called to see if anyone was interested in Jesse's stolen guns and had no intention of calling anyone. That all changed when I called her a little after 3 am.

"Hello? Alan? What the fuck do you want? Do you know what time it is?!" Dana asked groggily and irritated.

She almost always referred to me by my last name when it's just the two of us. Professionally she referred to me as Detective Alan. She almost never used my first name, Mark. I helped her out with her cases when I could. I had a thing for her. On a couple of occasions she'd had a thing for my cock, I just happened to be attached to it. And I was okay with that.

"Hey, Dana. Yeah, sorry about that. Hey, listen, can you come down to the warehouse district? There's been an incident we need your help with. It's the alley between buildings C and D. Thanks."

30 minutes later I led Dana down the alley, past the uniformed officers, and under the police tape. "You know her?"

Dana stared at the slumped body leaned against the dumpster and the wall. It was Jesse. She had a rubber band wrapped just above her bicep and a needle in her arm. "Fuck," she moaned. "Yeah, I know her."

"Good. She's got no ID on her. Only thing she had was your business card in her back pocket. Looks like she OD'd."

Dana shook her head while she walked around the scene. "No no, that's not right. She'd cleaned up her act. I just talked to her! No, something's not right. Did you find her car? An old, beat up Impala? Did you find it around here?"

I looked back at the officers. They shrugged their shoulders and shook their heads. "No, guess not."

Dana was still scouring the scene. "No. No. Something's not right."

"Well, maybe you can come down to the station and fill me in on her so we can contact next of kin, that kind of thing.

*****

Dana's detective instincts were screaming, "Something's not right!" They also told her that Rich Atkins was a good place to start. She parked her Mustang down the street from his mansion on Oceanview Drive. His limo would come and go. A maid service came every day. Lawn maintenance came twice. Boring. But there was one constant that peaked her interest.

Every other night around 2 am a white "Debbie's Donuts" van, with its colorful donuts and sprinkles on the sides, would drive through the large iron gates, stay for 30 minutes, then drive off. Either this dude has a weird penchant for donuts or something's fishy she thought. On the third delivery, she fired up her ponies and followed the van. She followed it back to Debbie's brick and mortar store front. What the fuck?! Two large men exited the van, got into their own vehicles, and drove off in opposite directions. What. The. Fuck?!

Two nights later, Dana was parked just down the street from Debbie's store front. Shortly after midnight, the mystery van pulled onto the street. But, instead of heading in the direction of Atkins' house, it went in the opposite direction. They drive past her car, giving no indication that a car parked on the street was unusual. Once it was safe, she fired it up, spun the car around, and headed in the direction of the van.

The van pulled into the warehouse district -- the same area where Jesse was found. It pulled into a warehouse and disappeared.

I've seen this movie before, and it didn't end well, Dana thought to herself, thinking back to when she got caught in a warehouse tracking down a human trafficking ring. She knew the van would have to come out sometime. She decided to wait it out.

An hour later, the van emerged from the warehouse and drove away in the direction she thought it would go before. She took short cuts and side streets in an effort to beat the van to Atkins' house. It worked. The van rolled past her parked car and, just as it done before, pulled into the paved drive and the large garage.

What the fuck is in that van?! What's in that warehouse?! It was time to visit her friend on the force.

*****

Dana came strolling into precinct like she owned it. Every head turned as she walked. Her painted on jeans had strategically placed tears and showed off her long legs and heart-shaped ass. Her white, v-neck t-shirt made it quite obvious she had gone sans bra today. Her dark areolas were obvious to anyone who cared to notice, and the thin material did nothing to restrain the hard, gumdrop-sized nipples that were trying shred their own strategically placed tears of their own. Her sandals flip flopped on the cold, worn tile.

"Hey, Alan, how goes it?" she asked when she turned into my office.

"Oh! Hey, Dana! It's going alright. You know, typical police stuff, catching bad guys and all. What do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?" I asked sarcastically. "If it's about Jesse, it's still being treated as an OD."

"Well, kinda. What can you tell me about Rich Atkins?"

The question caught me by surprise. "Rich Atkins? You mean the producer, director, composer, writer, friend to all the stars, and one of the most powerful men in town? That Rich Atkins?"

Dana nodded. "Yep, that's the one."

"What the hell does he have to do with Jesse?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Call it a hunch." She paused. "What've you got on him? Nobody that powerful is squeaky clean."

"A, I think you're way off base with your 'hunch'. B, even if we did have something on him, I can't tell you."

"So you do have something on him!"

"I didn't say that."

She laughed. "You're such an awful liar!"

"Whatever. I'm not saying shit. That dude could have me fired with the snap of his fingers."

She stepped closer and placed her hand on my chest. Damn, she smells good! She looked into my eyes. "Awwww, c'mon, Alan. What's it gonna take for you to help this poor little private eye out?"

"Poor little private eye my ass!"

"Awww, c'mon. What's gonna take? Huh? How about my tits? You've been staring at them ever since I walked in. How about if I show you my tits?"

"What?! No! No I haven't! I...I...No, I haven't been staring at your ti...your breasts!"

She laughed. She loved making me uncomfortable. "You're such a liar! Here, how's this?"

Before I knew it, she'd lifted her shirt up to her chin. I had a pair of the most incredible tits staring me in the face. Now I was staring! Try as I might not to, they were like magnets. She was massaging them and tweaking her own nipples.

"There. How's that? You like that, Alan? Hmmmm? You like my tits?" she purred.

Then reality hit me. "Jesus Christ! Put those away! What, are you trying to get me fired?!"

She pulled her shirt down and laughed. "Okay, okay, don't get your panties all in a wad. So, how 'bout it? You gonna tell me what you've got on Atkins?"

"Am I...no! Are you not listening? No!"

She scooted in close again. Her tits pressed into my chest. Her hand in my crotch startled me.

"Mmmmmm, look who's got a hard on," she giggled. It was true. Her fucking tits did it to me every time. "Maybe a blow job would do the trick, huh? How 'bout it? How 'bout if I give you a blow job?" She loved my cock. The thought was making her moist between her legs.

"A what?! What? Right here?!"

She nodded her head while she started to unzip my fly. "Mmmmmhmmmm. C'mon. You know you want that big, fat cock buried in my throat as badly as I want it there."

That was an offer I couldn't refuse. "Fuck," I groaned, which made her giggle. "Hang on a sec." I walked around my tiny office with my fly unzipped while I dropped the blinds on the windows looking out to the floor filled with detectives at their desks and closed the door. "Okay, get under the desk."

"Wait. What?" she asked while I pushed her around the desk.

"C'mon, get under the desk. Do you want the information or not?"

"Okay!" she said as she dropped to her knees.

I held out my hand. "The shirt. C'mon, the shirt."

"The shirt?"

"C'mon, the shirt. You wanna show 'em off so bad? Gimme the shirt."

She smiled. Her eyes twinkled. "Oooooo, you naughty boy. I like it." The shirt came over her head and she dropped it into my hand. Then she squeezed her body into the empty space where my legs would normally go.

I unbuckled my khakis and yanked my boxers down. The beast flew out and slapped against the underside of the desk.

"Oooooo, hello there," Dana whirred. She reached up and wrapped her long, thin fingers around its veiny shaft. I lowered my chair down as low as it would go. I felt like a child sitting at the adult table for Thanksgiving. Her warm, soft hand slowly ran up and down the length of my muscle. "You've got such a beautiful cock, Alan. It's so fucking big! I hope I can swallow it all," she cooed.

"I know you can," I hissed. "You've done it before." The anticipation of her soft lips wrapped around my meat was killing me.

"Mmmmmm, I have, haven't I?" I felt her hot breath rush across my skin.

My head snapped back. "Fuck!" I moaned when the swollen tip slipped past her lips into her hot mouth. My hands were soon on the back of her head while my hips lightly bucked into her face. Her head bobbed as much as it could in the limited space available. "That's right. Suck it, you fucking bitch," I growled under the desk. "C'mon, take it all. Take it down your fucking throat."

"Mmmmmhmmm! Mmmmhmmm!"

My body jerked. "Fuck!" Her chin landed on my balls. Her throat took on the shape of my pole. "Oh yeah! That's better. Now suck it!"

"Mmmmmhmmmm!" While I had control of her head, she had one hand molesting her tits and the other stuck into her jeans. She was rubbing and slapping her excited clit.

The door flew open. It was Captain Davis. Fuck! My hips stopped thrusting but her head kept bobbing.

"Why are your blinds closed and your door shut, Alan?" the captain asked gruffly.

"Oh, uh, I, uh, I've got a, uh, migraine." I released the back of her head and started to rub my temples.

"Yeah? Well, take some aspirin. Where's the Helton file? Where are we at on that?"

"Oh! Uh, (ahem), um, Jones has that, sir."

"Hmpfffff. Okay. And the Jenkins case?"

"Yeah, uh, (ahem), Jackson's got that one."

"What the hell are you working on?"

I'm trying not to bust a nut down this bitch's throat with you standing there! Dana was really working herself over. She found it incredibly exciting knowing someone was mere inches away, not knowing she was giving head to another person. Her kernel was starting to vibrate under her finger.

"I'mma, I'mma..."

"What the fuck is wrong with your chair?"

"It, uh, it's broken. Yeah, it's broken."

"Well get another one! You look stupid!"

"(ahem) Yes, sir."

"Did I see that fucking Rockhard in here?"

My heart stopped for a second. The words caught Dana's attention. "Uh, yes, yes she (ahem) was."

"What the fuck did she want?"

She wanted my cock stuffed down her throat! "She, uh, she was asking for some, uh, help on a hard case. A really hard case she's working on right now. It's really got her choked up."

"Right. She's a pain in the ass." He lowered his voice. A sly grin crossed his face. "But I'd fuck the shit out of that bitch in a New York minute if I got the chance." Dana nearly came.

I laughed nervously. "Yeah! Right! Me, (ahem) me, too."

He pointed at me and smiled. "Right!" He turned to leave. "Take some aspirin!"

"Yes, sir!" I turned my attention back to under my desk. I gripped her head and thrust me hips harder. "Hear that? Huh? He wants to fuck you, too? Maybe we can go down to his office after I cum down your throat, huh? Huh? Maybe you can suck his dick while I fuck your ass! You like that? Huh? You like that?"

She tried to nod her head. "Mmmmmhmmmm! Mmmmmmhmmmm!" Two freight trains were racing up the insides of her thighs.

My hose was throbbing in her throat. "I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna stuff your fucking throat with cum! Uh huh! Oh yeah!"

"Mmmmmhmmmm! Mmmmmhmmmm!"

My body tensed. "Gaaaaaaafuck!" I moaned through a clenched jaw.

Thick, warm spunk shot down her gullet. The familiar taste and feeling in her throat sent her over the edge. "Mmmmffffgggg! Fffffffggghhhhh!" she gagged under the table while she slapped her trembling kernel.

When my testicles stopped contracting, I removed my hands from the back of her head. It shot up like it was spring loaded. I heard her gasping for air. I peeked under the table. She was wiping a streak of white from the corner of her lips and scooping it back into her mouth.

She looked up at me with a crooked smile. "So the captain wants to fuck me, huh?"

I smiled back. "Everybody in here wants to fuck you." I handed her the tshirt. I felt sadness when I watched her slide it over her head. The Captain had left the door open when he left. I scooted my chair back, tucked my boy back into home, and zipped up. I held up a finger. "Hang on a sec." I whispered. I walked around the desk and quietly closed the door again. "Okay, you can come out."

She crawled out from under the desk and gave me a wide smile. Her long, blonde hair was slightly tousled. Her areolas were puffy, her nipples were rock hard. She looked even hotter than she did before she came into the office, if that was even possible.

"Did I earn that file yet?"

Fuck! I totally forgot about it. "I'll see what I can do."

She came to me and gave me a peck on the cheek. "You do that." She paused and leaned into me. "Now I'm gonna go home and stuff the biggest fucking vibrator I've got in my cunt and rub one out thinking about that fucking cock of yours," she whispered.

I smiled back at her. "Enjoy." I opened the door. Every head in the room turned with each of her steps and watched her walk out the door.

Two days later, I pulled my unmarked Charger into the parking lot and parked next to Dana's RV. I carried they thick folder to her patio and knocked on the screen door with no answer. As expected, I saw a lone body laying on a lounge chair about 30 yards, closer to the water. I laid the folder on the patio table, took of my loafers, and walked down to her.

When I got to her, she had her eyes closed. Her body glistened with lotion in the bright sun. And there was plenty of skin to glisten. She was wearing the tiniest bikini I had ever seen. She might as well have been not wearing anything. Not that I was complaining. Quite the opposite. I enjoyed the view. A lot.

The sudden disruption of her sun caused her to open her eyes. When she realized it was me, a crooked smile crossed her face. "Oh, hey Alan. You and that fat cock are blocking my sun."

"Yeah? How was that vibrator?"

"Not as good as the real thing."

"You know, you can have the real thing any time you want. All you have to do is ask." Neither one of us had the time or patience for a "relationship". But we both appreciated a good, hard fuck.

Dana sat up straight and swung her legs around so she was looking at me. "Really? What if I didn't ask?" Her hands found their way to my zipper. "What if I just took without asking?"

I smiled down at her and watched her open my pants. "I'd be good with that."

She pulled my khakis and briefs down slowly. The purple tip appeared. Then skin. Then skin wrapped in veins. Then the trouser snake jumped out and nearly smacked her on the bridge of her nose.

She reached up and grabbed the shaft. She felt the power pump through its veins. Her ltion was warm and slick. "Fuck, you've got a beautiful cock," she said dreamily.

She gasped when I reached down, brushed aside the tiny triangle of material, and palmed her tan breast. "And you've got some great fucking tits."

I grunted when she took me into her mouth. While one hand continued to maul her breast, the other went to the back of her head and held it steady while I pumped my hips. One of her hands stayed wrapped around the thick shaft, following her lips while they glided back and forth. Her other hand slipped between her legs. Her fingers easily slid in and out of her moist slit.

"Fuck!" My head flew back when her nose buried itself in my stomach. I watched my log disappear in her face, then reappear with amazement. "Goddamn you suck cock like a pro!" I'll bet she was a popular girl when she worked in the brothel working on a missing person's case.

She nodded and looked up at me. "Mmmmmhmmmm! Mmmmmhmmmm!"

I pumped my hips into harder. I gripped her tits rougher. She fingered her gash faster. "That's it, you fuckin' cunt! Suck my dick! You love it, don't you? You love my cock stuffed down your throat, don't you?!"