Chapter 1

Caution: This Mystery Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Romantic, Rape, Drunk/Drugged, Tear Jerker, Gang Bang, Anal Sex, Slow,

Desc: Mystery Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Andy was Private Investigator. He was also a man with a secret. A secret that was poisoning the best thing that had ever happened to him. What was going to happen when the girl of his dreams found out what he was hiding from her? Would their relationship survive?

I sat drinking coffee outside Starbucks.

The throng passed by, glancing idly at the bloke who seemed to have it all. Well, enough of it at any rate, to let him sit outside and drink coffee while decent people struggled into work. The breakfast meeting at another of the occupied tables finished and the three suits got up and merged with the throng, blending in and disappearing with surprising speed. One of the girls from behind the counter came out and cleared the table as soon as there was a lull in the morning trade. I glanced at her nametag, 'Jenny'. I knew a Jenny once. I carefully shied my thoughts away from that subject. She came to my table, her tray laden with empty mugs and cardboard sandwich boxes, the detritus of a hurried breakfast. I wondered why I hadn't seen her before as I came here fairly regularly.

"Are you done with these?"

Her voice was pleasant, but guarded. I smiled as reassuringly as I could.

"Yes. Is it okay if I sit here for a bit, I'm meeting a friend," I glanced at my watch, "she should be here soon. I'll come in for more coffee when she gets here."

The girl shrugged her shoulders as if to say it was none of her business and went about her job clearing my table. A desultory swipe with a damp cloth and it was if the last 20 minutes of my occupation had never been. I reflected that it was a pity that everything in life couldn't be tidied away so easily. Of course, it would make my job almost impossible if they could. Untidy loose ends were the lifeblood of a private investigations agency. It sounded romantic, but most of my work as a PI was handling insurance fraud. Magnum PI, I was not. Still, it had its moments.

"Thank you, Jenny." She started at my use of her first name, and then she realised that she had it pinned to her chest and relaxed. She nodded to me, but didn't catch my eye and disappeared back into the shop. I let myself wonder idly about her circumstances. She was obviously shy, so why put herself through what must be a hardship at the very least, just to earn a pittance - these places didn't pay that well, though the new, high profile chains were better in that respect than many places. Oh well, it wasn't my problem; I had enough of my own to worry about and not a few others' as well. Now was not the time to be trying to help another waif and stray.

My chain of thought was interrupted by another surge of commuters. I gazed thoughtfully at the queue that almost immediately formed and compared it with a similar situation the last time I was in Brussels. The pushing and shoving there had been a complete contrast to the semi-orderly arrangement that seemed to appear, as if by magic, whenever more than two Britons got together. I remembered reading something sometime ago, a journal of some sort that an English traveller had written, in which they had written about this wonderful continental habit of queuing. I wondered at the switch and when it had occurred. The feel of a hand on my shoulder interrupted my thoughts.

"Good morning, Andrew. Sorry I'm late, some poor bugger decided to end it all at Shepherd's Bush. They kicked us off at White City and I had to get a bus." She leant down and kissed me on the cheek.

"I'm sure you survived the ordeal. Why didn't you get a taxi?"

"I think the Beeb has them all on permanent hire! They were queued up outside the BBC building and none of them were free."

"At least it gave you a chance to see how the other half lives." It was a standing joke between us that she took the tube and taxis everywhere, whereas I preferred the bus or walking. I used to use the tube but a couple of years of being squashed, suffocated and treated just like so much cattle had convinced me that the buses were preferable. The main advantage of a bus was that you could see out if it got stuck in traffic and if the worst got to the worst, you could always get out and walk. I watched as she settled down in her seat.

"What do you want to drink?"

"The usual." I nodded and walked back into the shop to order our coffees and I bought a couple of almond croissants too. Once I was served I carried my bounty back outside and put it on the table.

"You angel, I'm starving. I didn't have time to get breakfast."

I laughed at that. She'd probably set her alarm early enough, but Kate was the mistress of the morning rationalisations that allowed her to lie in bed for 'just five more minutes'.


"I'm not the one that lazed in bed for 25 minutes after her alarm went off, cutting the corners of her morning routine."

Kate stuck her tongue out at me and glared good-naturedly. Then she turned her attention to licking the crumbs and icing sugar off her fingers.

"Mmmm! I needed that. Thanks."

She eyed the second croissant, considering the short-term pleasure of eating it over the hours in the gym working it off. Short-term pleasure won out. I smiled indulgently as she scoffed the second pastry with relish.

"You're a bad influence Andy."

"Of course I held a gun to your head and made you eat it."

"You didn't have to buy two."

"I kind of hoped that one of them would be for me."

"Sorry! Would you like me to get you another one?"

"'S'okay, why are we meeting here anyway."

"There's someone I'd like you to meet."

"Oh. When do they get here?"

"She works here. Her shift is over just about now." Kate looked up and waved at the girl from before. Who looked confused for a minute and then smiled in recognition. "Hi, Jenny. Come and meet the guy I was talking about."

Jenny approached warily, her face in a neutral expression. Kate took her hand and dragged her into a seat, overriding Jenny's protests. Something about the girl nagged at the edges of a repressed memory; a memory that I had purposefully gone out of my way to repress for good reason. I schooled my features into a semblance of calm attention; something very bad was about to happen.

"Oh pooh! We won't be long. Anyway I'd like you to meet Andy, Andrew Baker. Andy this is Jenny, Jenny Wilcox."

Only years of experience kept the shock I felt at hearing that name again out of my face. I looked once more into the eyes of the woman that I had raped and wondered why I hadn't recognised her straightaway. My thoughts raced and I felt again the searing contempt for myself at what I'd done. Somehow I had to get through this meeting and try and rebuild the ramparts before I went back to work. Shit, shit, shit!

"Pleased to meet you Jenny, how can I help you?" 'Nerves of steel, that was me, ' I thought sardonically.

Kate interrupted, "She'd like you to trace the source of some anonymous payments that are made to her each month."

I looked at Jenny, who nodded her agreement.

"Do you have the details of the payments?"

Jenny delved into the bag that she carried over her shoulder and pulled from it a slightly bent cardboard wallet file.

"My bank won't tell me anything except the originating account number and sort code."

I looked up sharply at that. "You must have been very persuasive, they shouldn't even have told you that." She blushed scarlet at that and shrugged her shoulders. I decided not to press her further. "Look leave it with me. I'll have a dig around and see what I can find out. I can't make you any promises though."

Jenny nodded at that and started to speak. "How much, I mean what will it cost me?"

Kate turned to her before I could speak. "Nothing. He doesn't charge for this sort of thing, he does it as a favour. All he asks is that when you are in a position to help someone else then you pay it forward."

I shrugged. "I'm sorry for the folksy terminology, it's American, but the idea is sound, anyway I do you a favour and when the time comes when you can do someone else a favour then you do it, okay?" I reviewed what I'd just said and realised that it sounded vaguely sleazy. "I'm not explaining it well, I just mean if you see someone you can help and it's in your power to do so, then give them a helping hand."

Jenny nodded her acceptance at my strange business practices. Kate looked at me strangely, I was babbling and I never babbled. I had to get away from here before I broke down completely.

"Here's my card, call me in a week or so."

Jenny took my card and our fingers touched as she did so. I jerked back at the tingle of our touch. "Sorry it's the dry air, static electricity and all that. Look, I'm sorry to dash, but contrary to received wisdom, I do have to work for a living." I smiled broadly to show I was joking and walked quickly away. Kate ran after me.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?" I looked at the wallet file in her hands. "Oh yeah, thanks." I turned to Jenny and waved, "Sorry, I'll see what I can do." Then I turned to Kate and took the file from her. "Thanks. I'd forget my own head if it weren't screwed on." I took the file from her, pecked her on the cheek and continued walking to the nearest bus stop. A number eight slowed slightly for a pedestrian and I jumped on board. I looked back and waved at Kate who was standing staring at my strange behaviour. The conductor glared at me but said nothing. I waved my travel card at him and sat down. Making a decision I pulled my mobile 'phone from my pocket and composed a brief text message: 'sally sumthngs cum up - wil cal in l8r - tel evry1 - ta - c u - luv a.'

A couple of buses later I lay on my own bed and contemplated the scum that I was. Unbidden, the memories of that night crashed through the walls that I had built so carefully. I sobbed as I remembered again the party where my life had changed forever and where I'd looked into Hell and seen myself staring back.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Romantic / Rape / Drunk/Drugged / Tear Jerker / Gang Bang / Anal Sex / Slow /