Little Sister
Chapter 4

Copyright© 2009 by Maxicue

Mystery Sex Story: Chapter 4 - Waikiki PI story #2. A fetching Vietnamese woman lures Joe into a troubling world filled with ghosts of his father's former life. Much edited and improved reposting of "Sister Lovers," the second Waikiki PI story (formerly attached to the first). Please read "The First Case" before this to understand characters.

Caution: This Mystery Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Consensual   Romantic   NonConsensual   Rape   Heterosexual   Interracial  

For the third time Detective Donald Nakamoto refilled the large off-white Police Academy mug he had used for the past five years ceremoniously to kick start his day with his own brew of Kona coffee, the most caffeinated coffee in the world, poured from the large silver thermos, a gift from a memorable ex-girlfriend. He needed the waking jolt more than usual. Not only had the night been long and eventful, but the thoughts set off by the meeting of Cathy's sister, Sam's protégé and the mysterious Moe White, drove through his head like a demolition derby, smashing against each other, scaring away much needed sleep. Sometimes the collisions only created a misshaped mess, but occasionally they synthesized into possible new vehicles of investigation. He even found himself getting out of bed, wandering to his study, and diagramming the various relationships between the protagonists and the victim. It was that diagram he stared at, trying to decipher his late night jumble, when Sam passed his desk, motioning for him to follow.

Entering the Lieutenant's glass office, Sam closed the door behind him and gestured to the seat opposite to Sam's, at Sam's desk. After an uncomfortable minute of silence in which they stared at each other, each mulling over where to go with the odious investigation, what needed to be said, and in what order, and what needed not to be said, Sam noticed the paper Nakamoto held in his hand.

"What's that?" Sam asked.

"I'm trying to sort out what's going on with the case," said Nakamoto.

"Can I see?"

Nakamoto handed him the diagram. "I don't know what you can get out of this," said the detective. "I can barely grasp what I had in mind when I wrote it."

"Interesting," Sam finally said. "You've got General Nguyen prominent. He seems to be the axel."

"Yes sir. He is one of my main suspects. In fact I wanted to get your advice. I was wondering if you knew any way you could get a subpoena to look into the phone records of a Canadian citizen."

"Two things, kid. I know where you're coming from here. General Nguyen, being a Vietnamese of dubious character, would be the one suspect to create the tribal murder scenario. I know all too well what a sadistic shit he is. I bet Kim Nguyen steered you in his direction." Sam pointed at her name on the diagram. Nakamoto nodded. "Well she would know. But think about this. Nguyen doesn't live here. He doesn't know to hire some thugs to set this shit up here. Maybe in Montreal, or even Toronto, where he's got some shit going. Not here."

"But ... But..." Nakamoto stammered. "You guys meet..."

"That's the second thing. Yes, I see the General quarterly, that's four times a year, like a business meeting. That's all he does when we meet, comes in one day, takes a meeting with us, and returns home or goes off to a meeting somewhere else in some other part of the world. I keep a tab on the fucker, believe me. And we're meeting tonight. It's the first in many years not on the usual schedule."

"You're meeting at Charlie's tonight?" said Nakamoto, realizing his mistake immediately.

"How do you know the place? Who else have you talked to?"

"I don't know if I should say."

Sam blew up. "Wrong!" He shouted. The glass walls seemed to shake with the force of his voice. Heads turned throughout the floor of the precinct. It was a rare outburst, though not unheard of. Sam did have a nasty temper. Luckily, except vocally, it wasn't a violent one. "I know I said you were independent on this case," his voice, though quieter, hadn't really calmed. "But if I ask you a question, any question, you had better fucking answer it, understand?"

Nakamoto, completely intimidated, could only nod.

"So?"

"Uhm, it seems that Kim, uh, hired Ned Solomon's son."

"What? Shit. Joe? Shit."

"Yeah, yes sir," said Nakamoto in a regretful tone. Meanwhile Sam grabbed the phone and quickly dialed. He waited several rings before a groggy Sandy answered.

The gist of the call was Sandy only knew Joe had a new Vietnamese girlfriend. He ordered her to have Joe call him ASAP then slammed down the phone. Sam held his forehead while he shook it. "The kid's gonna be the death of me."

"So," Nakamoto pushed forth, "I regret asking, but what time is this meeting?"

"Why?"

"Do you really want to know?"

Shaking his head again in pain, Sam said, "Eight."

Disorienting to wake up in a strange bed, It's even more disorienting to get woken up by a strange voice on the answering machine. By the end of the message, I recognized that voice.

"You have reached 808 555-5581, the home of Cat. No teasing, give me the reason you are calling me. Be nice and let me know how to return your call," said Kim.

But it wasn't Kim. Kim sat at the foot of the large bed, naked, quietly crying, listening to her deceased sister.

"Joe, pick up if you're there. It's Detective Nakamoto," said the caller. My mind instantly defogged, remembering where I was and why. My naked body bounced out of bed and picked up the burgundy phone receiver sitting on Cathy's white and feminine vanity, glancing at my lovely but red and puffy eyed lover in the vanity mirror.

"Hello," I mumbled through the roughness of my recently sleeping throat.

As Nakamoto let me know of the meeting at 8 with my father and his colleagues, Kim quickly exited the bedroom. I thought she wanted privacy to mourn the loss of her sister, the disembodied voice stirring up the horror of her sister's murder. But the true reason became apparent with the sound of another receiver in the apartment picking up.

"Oh, and I think you better call Sam, and your partner Sandy," Nakamoto finished.

"I'm afraid Uncle Sam will have to wait," I said, imagining my old mentor's reaction to hearing of my involvement. "I'm not about to get a dressing down, at least not from him. But I'll call Sandy and bring her up to speed. I can handle her dressing down a lot better."

"Sorry about my clumsiness," said Nakamoto. "I had a feeling your involvement might not have been welcomed by my boss."

"It's okay. Maybe if he knows over time, some of the steam will release before he confronts me. I'm sure he would have found out and the shock would have endangered my license again. Did you ask him about the phone records?"

"I asked him about the Vietnamese General's records. He didn't think Nguyen had anything to do with the murders."

"What?" asked Kim, her voice angry and low. "Is he on my Uncle's side?"

"No, Miss Nguyen, his reasoning seemed sound."

I heard a "Harrumph" type noise. Kim obviously disagreed, but must have felt a lack of trust with Nakamoto considering the obvious police connection, so she didn't push it.

"I do plan on looking into the other players' calls."

"Have you questioned any of them yet?" I asked.

"Not yet. I haven't felt justified to ask about alibis and such until I have a firmer grasp on their involvement. Once I look into the phone records and financial records, I'll be better prepared."

"Don't talk to them yet," said Kim. "Not until after tonight. Find out if Sam has talked about my sister's murder with Joe's dad or any other suspects." I cringed at my dad and the word "suspect" being associated. But I wondered if they knew anyway about Cathy's death. The timing of the meeting had to be related.

Reading my thoughts, or seeing the obvious, Nakamoto said, "With this impromptu meeting, Miss Nguyen, there's a great possibility that..."

"I know, but I have a plan, and the less they know about my sister, the better."

"Shit," said the detective. "You think the Lieutenant's going to cut you a new hole over this? He'll probably bust me down to evidence locker clerk for the rest of my career if anything happens to either one of you."

"He knows a good cop when he meets one," I said, diplomatically but truthfully. "He may verbally slam you, but I know he wouldn't have put you on this case if he didn't trust your abilities as a homicide detective. But we'll be careful, right Kim?"

"We'll be careful," said Kim. She sounded convincing, but I wasn't convinced.

"Can you keep me in the loop?" I asked. He sounded reluctant, but he agreed, knowing how close to danger both Kim and I intended to get, and the more he knew, the more need for care we would have in our part of the investigation. We made sure we had all the phone numbers necessary to keep the communication flowing before hanging up.

"Joe," said Kim just loud enough to be heard a couple rooms away. As I walked out to the living room, I heard the unmistakable sound of cocaine being chopped.

Kim leaned over the large low black marble table, a razorblade in hand, lining up and chopping a couple of long rails of cocaine, her naked breasts jiggling with each chop. Some of the white substance remained in sand grain sized chunks. I stood over her watching. My cock hooked down in a semi-hard-on. She looked up at me and smiled. She licked my glans.

"I'll be right back," I said, suddenly aware of my bladder. She kissed the helmet and let me hurry to the bathroom.

After a quick piss and a quick wash of hands, face and mouth, I was ready for some morning fun with my Asian lover. Returning to the same spot, my penis rising further in anticipation, I watched her lean down and using the $100 bill makeshift straw snort most of her line in one and then the other nostril. Again, the vision of her large firm yet soft breasts hanging from her petite chest nearly touching the edge of the table, the weight and texture of which I'd happily become familiar, further engorged me.

She sensuously sucked her middle finger while staring into my eyes. She dabbed up most of the rest of the line, returning the finger to her mouth and rubbing the drug across the gums. The little bit left she dabbed and swiped onto my fully engorged knob. Her tongue slowly licked and her lips slowly enwrapped and sucked me. Even with the slight numbing reaction to the chemical, the soft, warm, wet contact on my most sensitive spot sent throbbing jolts of pleasure through my balls and up into my brain.

Sliding her little round ass a few inches over on the black leather couch, the friction of her naked buttocks making the leather squeal, her mouth released my cock, replaced by her hand which she used to guide me to sit beside her. While leaning into the table to snort up my line, her hand began a firm stroke of my cock. Tempted to let out a moan, at the moment I needed to suck in. She kissed the nape of my neck, fondling the top of my backbone with her tongue. I had to stop snorting a moment when her mouth suckled my earlobe and the tip of her tongue entered my ear.

Any grainy substance left she dabbed with her moistened middle finger and coated my gums. We kissed, tasting the numbing drug and stirring each other's libido with our tongues. What with the cocaine and the pleasure, my blood seemed to be rushing through my body with such a force that my heart threatened to explode. I don't think I felt pleasure so violently before.

Making the leather squeal some more she moved her ass away enough that she could lean down and surround my cock with her mouth. Her lips tightened hard around my glans as she slowly pulled and pushed up and down. The exquisite torture built. With the power of lust I lifted her ass, placing her thighs on either side of my head. Upside down, she still gave me a powerful blow job. I wrapped my arms around her waist to keep her stable while I sent my tongue as deeply as possible into her cunny.

I slowly fucked with my tongue at the pace she pumped my cock with her lips. When she sped up, I did too. Her moans sounded like, "Mmmm," while mine were more like, "Ehhhh." These sounds, at least for me, caused vibrations which intensified the sensations. When I licked her clit, she paused her motions, returning to her task when I returned to the tongue fucking. But when I sucked hard on her clit she completely let go of my cock and screamed out, "Oh God Yes!" Her pussy vibrated. She tightened and exploded, flooding her love passage with fragrant nectar. Her body relaxed. "Oh Fuck," she said. And we did.

Letting her slip through my arms, briefly sliding my tongue in and out of her anus, she slid her slippery pussy down my abdomen, keeping herself from falling with hands on my knees. Once her pussy lips rubbed the base of my cock, her thighs completely open, she lifted them high enough so that the helmet nestled at the entrance to her hot cave. One of my hands guided the head inside while the other fondled her hard nipples pointing straight down.

Lifting my cock into the narrow pussy, heated to maximum, slippery with orgasmic fluid, and vibrating still from her last orgasm, I reached the Mount Everest of pleasure. No in and out entry, this was an exquisite, prolonged plunge to the depths. "Ooooh" we both moaned, our pleasure and our vocalizations harmonizing, the feel and sound of a perfect duet of lustful bliss which ended with my cock head grazing her cervix. She pushed down hard, my hands pulling her down even harder.

Could the pinnacle be any higher? Yes. We began to fuck. With her lifting with her knees on the couch and my hands holding her by the waist, my fingers meeting at the apex of her cunny, she moved up and down onto me. At first small thrusts, her angle and the pressure of my fingers stimulating her clit while her pussy lips slid against my rigidity, libidinous angels broke all restraint. Pulling up, she scaled my cock, her pussy lips rising higher and higher until it reached the crown before sinking my pleasure pole back deep. Despite the greater distance from up to down the ass slapping the pelvis continued at the same rate. Our sighs, moans and noisy breaths amplified, letting any neighbor know a couple of highly sexed early morning fuckers were enjoying the fuck of a lifetime.

"Aaah ohhh, ooooh ohhh God," she wailed, and I echoed as we stopped fucking and pulled against each other. My balls let loose their full load of sperm as she quivered and shook and her pussy quaked, her cum flowing with mine. I felt as if at that moment the entire universe became one giant, magnificent, impossibly pleasurable orgasm.

Carefully keeping my cock embedded in her pussy, we lay down on the couch. I never wanted my flesh to leave hers. Two had become one. I didn't want us to be two separate entities. I massaged her body, from her inner thighs to her abdomen to her fleshy breasts and taut nipples to her neck and face, celebrating the softness of her skin. She caressed me, finally pulling my face around to kiss and suckle my tongue.

"Oooh," she sighed as my penis became too limp to stay captured in her pussy, slipping out like a man-o-war lying wet, slimy and lifeless across my thigh. She turned around, and we gently hugged and kissed.

"We better clean up," she said, rising to her feet. I stood beside her, holding her hand. We chuckled at the puddle of love fluid on the couch. "First ourselves, then the apartment," she ordered.

We looked into each other's eyes sadly. When we showered together, we continued the look. Our hands ostensibly cleaning the other's body seemed to actually be memorizing the bodies. Occasional waves of anxiety flashed through me. We seemed to be saying goodbye. Why?

Trying to coax her to stay awhile in Cathy's apartment maybe sounded like whining. I didn't think that I annoyed her. She simply needed time to herself, time to think, time to organize her thoughts. The coaxing continued until we had finished cleaning up the apartment, leaving it as we had found it except for the love stains hidden in the made bed. Oh, and the three items she took: the little black dress, a make-up kit with eye shadows and blush, and a small bag in which to stash them.

 
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