Chapter 5

I actually made it to my surveillance shift at the Rogers on time. I had been up the whole night getting my chest bandaged, getting questioned and making sure Juan stayed in custody and Micah got cleared. I rushed to the house to make it there by 6 am. Bert Rogers had to help me upstairs. I collapsed on Diana's sister's bed. Luckily Diana had chosen her own bed that night.

"Poor Joe," said Sandy.

"I got the guy," I said.

"My hero," she said.

"Just give me a little shuteye and I'll take over."

"Sleep. I'm not going to have a sick partner. I'll stay on, and then throw in a tape. We can't have you doing everything." She kissed my forehead and began stripping me. I passed out.

I awoke being kissed on my forehead by my lovely partner. It was dark out. Had I slept at all? Confused I asked Sandy for the time. "It's eight," she said. When I stayed confused she said, "Eight at night. You slept 14 hours. You have a phone call."

I sat up, looking past Sandy at the lovely Diana who had a complicated look on her face: happy, proud, and concerned. I gave her a cockeyed smile and lifted the receiver. I listened to George on the line talking to Bert.

"Yeah, he's a good friend," she said. "I thought he'd never get Micah off, that he didn't believe him, but he did good."

"Micah's doing better?" asked Bert.

"They're releasing him probably tomorrow. But then he's heading to the Psych ward"

"So you think maybe you could come by..."

"I can come over now," she said.

"I don't want to..."

"I need you, Bert. I need good men in my life. Give me an hour. I need to freshen up, to say the least."

"I don't mind if you're..."

"I always want to look my best for you."

"You must be tired."

"Ask Joe. He'll tell you I have more energy than should be legal. We'll make it a night, Bert, if you don't mind. That way we can rest. You'll need it when I'm through with you."

"I don't mind."

"Of course you don't darling," she said with her sexy confidence.

"Hey George," I said.

"You're awake," said Bert, not sounding upset that I listened in. "I'll brew up some coffee and make breakfast. Should be ready in ten minutes."

"I'll be down," I said. Bert hung up.

"Hey Joe," said George.

"Hey beautiful," I said.

"Thanks for taking care of this. Micah's much better. He's pretty spaced out still."

"I think Juan might have had him on some hallucinogen or something."

"I'll let the doctors know. A psychiatrist came around today. I stepped out of course. It seemed to help. I owe you."

"I did it for Micah."

"I know. You did good. I've got the money. Besides, you hooked me up with Bert. You should get a percentage."

"I'm no pimp."

"Thank god." We laughed. "Go get yourself some breakfast, sleepyhead."

She arrived an hour later looking sexy as hell, if a little dark around the eyes. Her hand grasped mine like she had done in the hospital, passing me a folded piece of paper. She let go of my hand and took Bert's, leading him upstairs. I imagined Bert's eyes bugging out of his head watching George's sexy ass swaying up the stairs. I know mine were. I unfolded the check for $2000 made out to the Waikiki PI Detective Agency. Sandy and I had debated the name a few years before. Something like A-1 or AAA would have been first in the book. We agreed that maybe the clients we wanted would start at the end.

When I followed Diana up the stairs, her ass wasn't as traditionally sexy, but it turned me on thinking about the tight little pussy contained within those big cheeks.

We heard little from Bert's room for awhile. I told the women about my night. Sandy smiled and nodded at my descriptions, giving me the look of a proud teacher whose student had equaled her. Diane on the other hand attended to my story with rapt attention. She reacted like a kid completely enthralled by a suspense movie. She tensed at the tense parts, looked shocked at the shocking parts and laughed at the funny parts. Amidst the storytelling, we heard George getting worked up by what she described as Bert's "magic tongue." I interrupted my monologue to ask if the sounds from her father's room made her uncomfortable.

"As a kid, I heard my mom and dad going at it almost every night. I still remember my older sister calming me down, telling me they were having fun. I liked the idea of my mom and dad having the kind of fun I had when I played. But they seemed to have more fun then I could imagine, the way my mom would scream. I imagined them riding a rollercoaster over and over again, because that's the only time I ever screamed when I had fun. When my mom left, that silence at night became the exclamation point to the loneliness and loss that Dad went through. George has returned his fun. But I guess it still makes me a little uncomfortable."

Once my story had finished, and the bed started banging a couple rooms away, Diana asked me, "What was the escort thing like?"

I told her how much I enjoyed Maria's company.

"But what about the sex?" asked Diana, unzipping my fly and pulling my pants down. Her tongue and lips encouraged my penis to rise. I told her about kissing and cunnilingus and Maria riding my pole. Diana got up from her cocksucking position and disrobed. "I'd probably crush you if I rode you," she said, lying on the bed naked. "And anyway, I like it when you ride me hard. I want you in me, Joe, but let's go slow. Tell me more about what you did with Maria."

I got between her big strong thighs. She guided me inside. It felt as tight as the first time, and even more hot and juicy. While slowly fucking her, enjoying the nuances of her insides, I continued. I glanced over to Sandy, who had gotten naked and caressed her breasts and pussy. When I told Diana about the backdoor fuck, she stopped me and pulled away so that my hard-on wagged in the cool night air.

Diana looked at Sandy and asked her, "Do you like being ... uh ... buggered?"

"Sometimes. It can get a little uncomfortable, especially afterwards."

"You mean it hurts?"

"No. Not usually. Not anymore. With Donald, he's got a nice penis, but it's a little ... uh ... thin, it actually makes the sex ... I don't know ... not better ... more intense. With Joe's monster, I have to be seeking some kind of sexual nirvana, some especially high peak; I have to be inordinately horny for us to go there. Because it does hurt, but not when it's happening. Afterwards it feels like a phantom crowbar shoved up my ass. But it's worth it."

"Oh, so ... never mind," said Diana, taking my crowbar and shoving it back in her pussy.

"You want to watch Joe fuck me in the ass?" asked Sandy.

"Not if it..."

"You have any KY or massage oil?"

"You sure?"

"Only if you work your tongue magic on me."

Diana slipped from underneath me and ran out the door. She came back with a bottle of massage oil in one hand and a large black dildo in the other. "I bet you wondered what happened to my hymen. Well, Slim took it," she said. I got out of bed and she lay down, her head at the foot. Sandy straddled her head. They proceeded to lick each other. Sandy soon moaned into Diana's petite pussy.

My iron rod had not melted. I got behind Sandy and began tonguing her anus. Her moans amplified. Coating my fingers in the oil, I reamed out Sandy's hole, loosening it up. Her ass shivered with pleasure. Her moans sounded climactic. I knelt behind Sandy, my knees sliding underneath her thighs, opening her up.

I guided the head to the narrow hole and pushed. Despite Sandy being more relaxed than ever, that narrow band of muscle still gave resistance. Once the crown popped in, I heard the soft, "Oof" of Sandy feeling suddenly stuffed.

"It's good," she said.

Thus began my descent into her dark passage. With gradually deepening thrusts, I finally journeyed as far as I could go. Sandy's soft buttocks rested against my pelvis.

"Oh god!" exclaimed Sandy.

I found myself with a neighbor cock inside her. While I retreated, Diana shoved the dildo in. As she pulled out, I pushed and vice versa. Diana watched the action. The hand not holding the dildo worked Sandy's clit. Sandy was too lost in her pleasure to continue licking the pussy of our sex mad new friend. Diana took command. She sped up the dildo, so I sped up as well.

The friction of Sandy's narrow passage, intensified by the motion of the dildo felt through a thin malleable wall, drove me crazy. My hips slapped hard against Sandy's flesh. My motion quickened. I felt my balls tighten with congestion. I was ready to pop. Sandy screamed out her orgasm as I shoved deep and exploded.

Diana kept rapidly fucking Sandy with Slim, elongating Sandy's orgasm until she collapsed on top of the Amazon, making my cock slide out. I quickly moved the softening organ away from Diana's face. Diana pulled Slim out and licked up Sandy's love juice like a cat.

"Cool," said Diana, smiling up at me.

"I'd better wash," I said.

"Let me help," she said. She carefully guided Sandy to lie on her side. Sandy smiled at us lost in contentment.

In the shower, Diana on her knees cleaned my cock before taking it in her mouth. I was slow to recover. Playing with her awesome nipples helped while keeping her libido stirred. Finally I gained hardness enough to fuck.

Instead of trying to fuck in the shower, Diana shut off the water. We climbed out and toweled off, making it a sensual event. She led me to her bedroom next to her father's. The noises next door had quieted. She got in her bed, her ass up and her head down.

"Doggy style," she said.

"You don't want me to... ?" I began.

"Sometime. I need you to fill my pussy."

I did. When I shoved my thumb in her asshole, her moans increased. Adding my fingers stroking her clit got her cumming. After her first cum, she turned onto her back and once my cock seated deep in her pussy again, we kissed. We stared into each other's eyes as my ass rose and fell between her magnificent thighs. The familiar and welcome pressure of imminent orgasm arrived. I drove deep and pushed my pubic bone against hers. My cum spurted out, flowing into her own orgasmic nectar. Once stilled by our mutual completion, we heard the bedsprings and the moans next door. We laughed.

By Thursday I had gotten my sleeping schedule back in order. I felt rested throughout my 6 am to 6 pm surveillance of Mel Jacobi.

The most difficult part of the day proved to be when Sandy received a phone call from Sam Kamalua. I felt a little uncomfortable being in the same room with her while she talked. She insisted I could stay. By the end of the hour long talk, tears streamed down her face.

Clearly the man on the other side of the line had done some soul searching. At first it seemed odd that Sam would choose Sandy for such an important moment. But I soon realized there no one else existed for Sam to turn to. Sandy was his only friend not in the police department or not at the level, like my father, of Charlie's society friends.

Sam debated whether or not to retire. He couldn't stomach his actions regarding the protection of Charles Boyle. The guy should have been stopped many years before, but Sam had allowed Charlie to exert his enormous influence and charm to gain his favor. Sam had convinced himself it was small time or occasional or some other bullshit he knew in his heart wasn't true. He considered whether blame for the creation of Juan and the dissolution of Micah's brain could be placed on him as much as with Charlie.

Sandy used the familiar excuse of not taking the monster's actions as in anyway caused by a policeman's inactions. This time the argument seemed weak.

"Who else could do a better job?" asked Sandy. "There is no one innocent of bias or being some part of a good ole boy network. And who has been so hard assed to get justice done instead of taking the easy way and resorting to railroading?" After a pause, she responded to Sam's answer. "But Donald is awfully young. What are your peers going to think... ? Of course he's probably the best ... No one's better than you, Sam, not even Donald ... If you stayed a little while longer, maybe he would be better groomed for the position ... You're upset. You're not seeing clearly ... You are a stubborn son of a bitch. I'm sure he'll be glad to accept. He is the most ambitious man in the HPD ... I won't mention it. I'm sure I'll know soon after he does. I look forward to the celebration." Sandy reacted to Sam's words with a chuckle. "You would know you old horndog. I love you Sam. Just give it a couple days to decide ... Okay then don't. Call me if you need me, okay? Bye." She handed the phone to me.

"Hey, Uncle Sam," I said.

Sam cleared his throat. His voice sounded rough, like he needed to clear some barriers to talk. "I wish there was something I could say to get you to be more careful, kid," he began. "You know, you could tell us up front what's going on and then we professionals could go in en masse to take care of the situation. You could save me a lot of grief. And you could talk to us when you're harboring a fugitive so we could work it out. I'm not going to be around to keep you out of trouble. But you know I really respect you.

"I talked to your dad. I kind of kept him out of the loop as much as possible concerning you. I always felt responsible for your getting into the detective business, and any dangers that career choice has made I can't help feeling guilty about. We talked for a long time concerning you. I know you and he haven't seen eye to eye for awhile. I told him all the dangerous little adventures you have gotten yourself into these past few years, at least the ones I know about, including Charlie's murder. I thought I might lose a friend letting him know how far you are willing to go out on a ledge for a case. But I wanted him to know how good you are at what you do. I wanted him to be aware of that. I could hear the pride in his voice. Give him a call. He loves you, you know, and I don't think he feels complete without you. Call him."

"Thanks, Sam," I said. "I'll call. You take care."

"You too, kid." He hung up.

After my otherwise uneventful surveillance shift ended, I left Sandy to her shift and joined Diana in the kitchen. We decided on lasagna as a special meal for what we hoped would be the last night of the Mel Jacobi case. Along with the groceries, Diana had bought a couple bottles of Chianti. While we prepared the meal, we drank from one of the bottles and teased ourselves into a pleasant state of horniness. Once the lasagna entered oven, we put on the timer and ran upstairs for a quickie.