The Spirit of Anna
Chapter 1

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Romantic, Reluctant, Mind Control, Magic, Lesbian, BiSexual, Heterosexual, Paranormal, Ghost, DomSub, Group Sex, Harem, Polygamy/Polyamory, Interracial, White Couple, White Male, White Female, Hispanic Female, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation,

Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - The spirit of a dead ex-prostitute continues to influence the life of the police detective she loves.

Anna Ortiz was dead. While she seemed to be in the sweet repose on her bed, in reality she had been murdered. Police Detective, Lieutenant Corbin "Whit" Whitaker was standing looking down at her naked supine form. There were tears in his eyes. Her cat, Maxine, was gently brushing her head against his leg.

Anna had been a prostitute but with Whit's help, made the decision to quit. She had a new job and she enrolled in business school a couple of months ago. She had decided that she had had a future; a chance at a better life than the one she ran to, when she had run away from her abusive father and uncaring mother.

The police detective, who was staring down at her, was not there in the line of duty. Anna was special to Whit; in fact he was in love with her.

"You want a date?" asked the lovely Latina, looking into the face of despair, without understanding the depths within the wearer.

At that moment, Whit had two viable options and one not so viable. He could have walked away. He could have pulled out his badge and walked her to the nearest precinct for their "date". Instead he went for the not-so-wise option number three. "OK," he said, as he got up in a daze and he walked her back to her place.

The walk to their destination was a quiet one. No chit chat, no negotiation over price. She had tried but, he interrupted. "I'll pay your maximum." There was a haunted look on his face that shone under a nearby street lamp. Anna knew that look.

Anna saw that look in the mirror every morning. She was just as lost as the man who lumbered by her side, as they made their way to her apartment.

Whit sat in the stranger's living room. "Why did I come here?" he thought.

"So, baby. Do you want something to drink?"

Whit's training taught him to politely refuse, before asking "What's your name?"


"That's original."

"Everyone's always a critic." she laughed.

"Well, 'Roxanne, you don't have to put on the red light'."

"OK, I'm putting away my makeup," she replied, paraphrasing with another lyric from The Police song.

Whit laughed. It was the first time he had laughed since he read the note four hours ago. He couldn't believe he was laughing. She could have responded to his comments angrily. Instead, she had responded with humor. He had his guard up, but all of the sudden his guard hit the ground with a thud and he began to cry.

"What's the matter baby?"

"My wife ran away with my brother!" he bawled.

She looked at him for a split second, not knowing what to do. Then her instincts took over and she ran to him and held him. "It's alright, Caro. I'm here."

He looked up at her with tear stained eyes, yet that same haunted face, no longer possessing the facade of indifference or phony affability. After a moment he murmured, "Thank you, Roxanne"

She just tightened her grip on him and whispered "My name is Anna."

Soon his peers had shown up at the crime scene. Uniformed officers, other detectives, forensic techs, the medical examiner and others filled the small loft, as Whit answered questions in a daze. Once a preliminary time of death had been established, it was clear that he was not considered a suspect. A couple of his close friends and his superior officer knew of his "friendship" with Anna. They knew he was trying to help her get out of her old life and despite not approving at first, when they met her they had collectively changed their minds.

Anna without her baggage was a proverbial ray of sunshine. On that night when he needed someone, she had held and comforted him. On that night she discarded most of that baggage. This single act fundamentally changed Anna in several ways. She learned that her heart was capable of showing love. She learned that she could be loved. Most importantly, she fell in love with Whit.

Whit was in love with Anna too. Originally, he had been bothered by their age difference. He was about eight years older than her. Additionally, his own self-worth had taken a hit on that fateful night and he felt she deserved someone better than the 'broken down cop' he considered himself to be. Anna's loving openness had changed his feelings and allowed him to open his heart to the possibility that they could be together. Now none of that mattered. Anna was gone forever. To make matters worse, cruel fate had taken his Anna from him on the first anniversary of the day they had met: The day his wife had left him.

Anna had held him in her arms as they lay on her bed. Soon his crying quieted. She had removed his and her clothes, not knowing if he wanted to have sex with her. She continued to stroke his head, "It's alright, Caro. I'm here," she had said over and over again.

As she did this, a very primal feeling began to manifest itself within Anna. While it seemed to be foreign while out of context, the concern for this man brought on feelings of possessiveness, affection and finally the most unlikely of emotions: Love.

She had felt that love bubble to the surface. An emotion she had sworn she would never possess, but an emotion she longed to have. Somehow, Whit sensed this feeling of love and it began to flood him too. He lifted his head from her nude shoulder and looked into her eyes. For a moment he had searched her eyes for an answer before seeing a look that told him to proceed. He kissed her; gently at first and then with more urgency. Anna became swept up in these feelings. She practically never kissed johns, but Whit was special. Somehow she knew this and her body began to respond to Whit as if he were her lover; not a client. Then she realized that was what he was about to be. He was to be her lover.

Despite the open box of condoms on her night stand, "safe sex" was the furthest thing from either of their minds. While Anna was on the pill, she never engaged in a sex act without the use of a condom, out of fear of catching an STD. Now this fear was nowhere to be found as she guided his hard member into her drenched channel.

As he entered her, Anna moaned in passion. While he had not possessed the largest or longest cock she had had in her, he was certainly bigger and longer than average. The intensity of her feelings and the way he filled her, caused her to moan. As a whore for the last six years, she had sex countless times. It was mainly about her partner's pleasure. While she occasionally felt something, she had faked more than her share of orgasms.

This time would be different. She realized that no matter how many fucks she had had, she was making love for the first time in her life.

They started with him on top. His strokes and their kisses were slow and deep, as they reveled in a depth of intimacy, neither had previously experienced. Soon their mutual passion began to drive their actions, as their thrusts and kissing became more frenzied and less steady. Anna began to lose herself in her passion. For a split second, a rational thought tried to penetrate her brain, but it was quickly swept away by a torrent of pleasure. Then the early possessiveness had returned. "This is my man," she thought over and over, as her breathing became labored.

Likewise, Whit was having similar thoughts. He had never had someone make love to him like this. He felt her touch his soul in a way that his wife had not in the six years of their marriage. "If she did this with every client, she'd probably have received thousands of proposals," he thought. He almost wanted to propose himself. Somehow he doubted that this level of intimacy could be faked. He sensed that these feelings they were having were real.

Whit knew he could not hold on much longer. His thrust became harder and her moans and cries became louder. Soon, he fired his hot seed into her womb, as she shook and shuddered into an earth shattering climax of her own.

In the afterglow, he looked at her beautiful face. As absurd as it sounded, he was falling for her. It made no sense, except for the incredible connection he had made with this loving woman who in essence, saved his life.

While he couldn't bring himself to say it, Anna looked at him with a cautious smile. "Do you believe in love at first sight?" she asked.

Whit smiled back. "Yeah, I do. Still, I think you need to get your eyes checked if you feel that way about me."

She laughed and replied to his comment with a deep kiss, which he eagerly returned.

As he sat in a chair in shock with Maxine purring in his lap, he overheard his colleagues "working the case".

"The victim was strangled to death. My preliminary time of death would be five or six hours ago," said the Medical Examiner.

"What about those bruises on her torso?"

"She received those prior to her death. Her killer probably used the blows to incapacitate the victim before killing her."

"Was the victim raped?"

"Strangely, no. No signs of vaginal tearing or trauma. No semen present either."

"She seemed to be laid out on her bed, as if she was on her wedding night," observed the detective. "Pretty ironic considering her line of work, wouldn't you say, Doc?"

"Shhhhh ... Lieutenant Whittaker is over there. He cared about this girl..."

Whit heard the words, but he was so lost in his grief to act upon them.

He was snapped from his fog, by a lovely voice from above. "What a pretty kitty."

Whit looked up to see a young, female uniformed cop. It was his friend, Shannon Leary. Her lovely auburn hair was somewhat concealed by her cap. Whit just nodded, as she began to pet Maxine.

After a few moments, Shannon jumped back as if she had been shot. Then Maxine jumped off Whit's lap and scampered under Anna's bed.

"You OK, Shannon?"

"Yeah..." she stammered and paused to shake her head clear, "Must have been a static shock."

"You seemed to have gotten Maxine too. Though it's strange I didn't feel or hear anything and she was on my lap."

"Yeah ... strange," she murmured in a daze as she walked away.

The exchange with the lovely young officer shook Whit from his fog. He began to process the facts that he heard only minutes before.

First of all Anna had been strangled, but before that, she had been beaten on her torso. From his past experiences with Anna and his brief stint in "Vice", he knew that this was a tactic used by pimps to keep their ladies in line. They would never strike the women in the face, as it would mar the "merchandise":

Anna's body had been stripped and placed on her bed supine, but she had not been raped. This was not a crime of passion. This appeared to be a premeditated crime of revenge. The problem was that the only person in the whole world who had the motive to do it was in prison. Whit knew that to be a fact because it was he who put Anna's pimp, Miguel Montoya there.

In the morning, Anna looked down at a sleeping Whit and made up her mind. She was quitting. After making love again when he awoke, they went back to his place.

After going home to feed Maxine, she returned to Whit's house again. When she got back to her apartment, she found her pimp, Miguel Montoya waiting for her. He proceeded to beat her. "Do you really think that I am a fool. I followed you yesterday and caught you playing house with that cop." he paused to admire his handiwork. "As you can see, your boyfriend can't save you. He can't even save himself. The next time you pull something like this I'll find a nice plot of ground to bury you both in. Got it?!"

For the next month, Anna switched apartments with a friend. She had ignored all of Whit's calls. Anna knew she would be putting him and herself in danger. She also knew if she saw him again, she would never want to leave him.

One day she got busted. As she sat in processing, she noticed that people who had been collared after her were being printed and processed ahead of her. She was told to just sit and be quiet. After an hour went by, she was led out to a car in the parking lot. An officer opened the door and she climbed in. "Oh, Whit!" she cried as she flung her arms around the man in the driver's seat. Whit took her back to her apartment to get Maxine and her things. Then he took her back to his house.

That night he called his old partner from "Vice". "Hey Tommy what do you have on a pimp named Miguel Montoya?"

"I know the guy. Aside from reports of domestic violence against his girls, Pandering and some drug charges, not much. There are rumors that he has ties to the Cartel and pushes for them."

Whit thought back to his conversation with Anna. His anger and resolve gave her the confidence to stand up to her brutal boss. She had discovered things; things that would hurt Miguel. Now Whit knew these things too. "I have some intel that will help you take him down," said a determined Whit.

Whit's mind drifted to the reason why he had come to visit Anna. As his bitter divorce had not been finalized, Whit could not let her stay with him. Instead, they found her a nice, but reasonably priced apartment. He helped to get her a job as a cocktail waitress, as a short term solution to help pay for the apartment.

This morning, he signed the divorce papers. Now she would have been able to move in with him. More importantly, he would have been able to take their relationship to the next level.

As he saw the Medical Examiner walk over, he braced himself for what he would say.

"Whit, I know this is tough, but the CSI team is done collecting evidence, so I have to take her now," said the M.E. before adding, "Take my advice. Say goodbye to her here and not at the morgue."

Whit nodded, as his tears began to flow. "Thanks, Doc." he said, as he saw the doctor begin to clear the room.

Whit looked down at her lifeless body. It seemed to be a contradiction in terms. She had been so alive, so warm, so caring, so loving ... he was crying profusely as he kissed her lips and then whispered, "Te amo, Cara." into her unhearing ears.

He then felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Officer Leary wearing a sympathetic expression. She pulled him into her arms and they hugged. She then whispered, "Whit, you need to leave now. The Captain said that it was OK for me to drive you home..."

"I'll be OK," said Whit, almost saying the words more to convince himself more than her.

"We both know you won't be OK anytime soon. But I need to make sure you get home OK."

"Thank you, Shan."

"You're welcome. Now let's get Maxine and leave."

"I know. I was dreading this because of all the people around. She's scared of strangers. It took months for her to get even a little used to me. Tonight she must have understood what happened, because she'd never sat on my lap before now."

Shannon got on her hands and knees and said "Come Maxine."

Whit closed his eyes. If he hadn't known Anna was dead, he would have thought that she was uttering those words, not Shannon. Those were the words that Anna used called the cat. The tone was kind of similar too. Apparently Maxine had been fooled too, as she came out from under the bed and into Shannon's waiting arms.

Shannon then went into the closet and pulled out the "kitty caddy" and put Maxine in it. Whit then carried the caddy out to his car, put it in the rear seat, then he and Shannon got in the car and she drove them toward his house.

"I'll get you, bitch, if it is the last thing I ever do!" screamed Miguel Montoya, after he had been sentenced to twenty years for operating a "drug factory" and "possession with intent to sell to minors". He continued to scream, as two burly deputies pulled him out the door.

Whit held Anna in his arms, as they sat in the gallery. "Don't worry about him, baby. He'll be locked away for at least ten years."

"What about when he is eligible for parole?"

"I'll be at his hearing every year to make sure he's denied. This little outburst alone is going to hurt his chances. Also, I'm not done with Mr. Montoya."

"What do you mean?" asked Anna.

"Now that he's locked away, there are a few witnesses he had coerced, who may be willing to step forward. I'm sure there are number of assaults and maybe even an "attempted murder" charge we can get to stick. Then there is Lourdes Fuentes..."

"Lourdes was one of Miguel's girls like me," she cried."

"I know. If we can prove his involvement in her killing, he might get death. We can rest easy then," he smiled.


"Yes, 'we', you goofball," laughed Whit as he rolled his eyes.

"You still want me?"

"More than anyone or anything in the world, Anna Ortiz," he beamed.

When they got to the house, Whit and Maxine were settled, Whit turned to Shannon, "Thank you, Shan. I think I've got it from here."

"Do you think I'm going anywhere?" she asked. "I'm not going to let you go out to some bar, get drunk and die in a car crash," she added.

"I'm not going anywhere. I can stay here and get drunk."

"Good. But I'm staying to make sure that you do."

"But Shannon, this isn't fair to you..."

"I probably would not have made it through the academy if it wasn't for you. You're a good man, Lieutenant Whitaker. This shouldn't have happened to you."

Whit's tears began anew. A few scotches later, Shannon led Whit to his bedroom and helped him to undress. He protested at first, but lacked the conviction to put up any real struggle, despite being stripped to his boxers. When he hit the bed, his eyes closed. Just as he was about to drift off, he felt someone getting into bed with him. He opened his eyes and saw the lovely naked form of Shannon Leary, her larger than average, but pert breasts and her glorious, red shoulder length tresses. He tried to protest, but Shannon's mouth sealed his with a deep kiss. He tried to fight, but he found himself become impossibly aroused.

When she broke the kiss, she said "You should not be alone tonight," in almost a zombie-like tone. In moments she was kissing him again and she led his hard cock to the gates of her sex. Whit felt as if he had been making love to Anna. Her kisses were very similar. Anna had this way of swirling her tongue around his mouth when they had kissed. Shannon was using the same technique. Her passion was equally to his. In about five minutes he had fired into the quivering mass of beautiful flesh writhing on top of him, as his seed flooded the womb of the lovely, young, Irish American lass.

Soon Whit felt the weight leave his body and then snuggle up to him. As he drifted off to sleep, he heard Shannon's voice, whispering in a familiar tone, "It's alright, Caro. I'm here."

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