Page 1 of 2
Posted: Sun Nov 09, 2003 4:21 pm
Frank LeHorni was, as his name implied, of French descent. He did not, however, let this fact upset him, and for the most part managed to lead a fairly normal life.
Frank was a private detective who tended to work on the usual jobs private detectives are hired for. Surveillance of partners suspected of cheating, trying to catch out insurance frauds, finding missing persons etc.
Tall and dark, with slick black hair, and a strong, handsome face usually sporting a carefully tended crop of stubble, Frank had on more than one occasion been prompted to offer a rather energetic and sweaty form of consolation to some of his distressed female clients. He liked to think it was all part of the service.
He was sitting at his desk going through some fairly raunchy surveillance photographs when his receptionist ducked her head through the doorway to his spacious office. "Frank, there's a Ms Freda Wales to see you."
"Send her in, Helen." Frank hastily hid the photos under some paperwork, and a moment later Freda strode through the open door, closing it firmly behind her. "Frank LeHorni, I presume," she stated, as her hand shot forward for him to shake. "Anne Imphoe recommended you, she said she was very happy with your services indeed." Freda withdrew her hand and took a seat.
"Yes, I recall working very hard on Anne Imphoe’s case, she should have been satisfied ..." Frank blushed slightly at the memory, "And how can I help you today Ms Wales? You're concerned about your husband's fidelity?"
"Not at all Mr LeHorni, I'm not married. I'm here today to ask you for help with a rather delicate matter. It's regarding my brother - I suspect he may not be my brother at all. And if that is the case, this poser is not entitled to a share of the estate of my recently deceased father."
"May I ask what has aroused this suspicion Ms Wales?" Frank leant forward.
"I don't remember when I first became doubtful of his identity, but recently it has become increasingly dubious that he is related to me at all. You see Mr LeHorni, I have come to the conclusion that my brother is in fact a lemur. I need your help to prove it."
Loose Ends - Chapter 2
Posted: Sun Nov 09, 2003 8:53 pm
Moments passed. The only sound in the room was a quiet tick-tock of a small banana-shaped clock on the edge of Frank’s desk, and the occasional deep burble of a car going past. Frank realised it was his turn to speak, so he cleared his throat to give him a little more time to think of what to say.
Frank picked up a ball point pen and wrote the word “Lemur” on his notepad, followed it closely with a question mark and emphasised the word with two underlines. “A lemur, you say?” he asked, knowing what the response would be. “Yes.” She replied. Frank considered dismissing the case – the woman was obviously quite mad. On the other hand, her attire and perfectly manicured fingernails implied she was well financed. And besides, she was single, and, he thought glancing at her cleavage, which was supported by a thin strap of black material which left nothing to the imagination, she had a huge set of knockers!
He put his pen down and leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands. “This is not going to be easy, Ms Wales.”
“Oh please, call me Freda,” she purred, a sensual smile made its way to a location just below her nose, which was exactly where one would expect to find it.
“OK, Freda.” He said the name uncomfortably. “This isn’t going to be easy. It may take quite a while to substantiate something like that. I will need to spend a long time getting to know you – and your family of course – and it may prove to be a very expensive exercise.”
“I understand. I am willing to cooperate any way I can. This is very important to me.”
“Let’s start with his name.” He leaned forward and picked up his pen, ready to take notes.
“His name is Roger. Roger Eagally.” Frank jotted the name down, misspelling the last name. “And if you could provide a description of him. Or a photo would be ideal.”
“I’m sorry; I don’t have one with me.” She confessed. “Let me see. He has dark rings around his eyes; he has a large amount of body hair, a constant irritated look in his eyes –“
“Sounds like me on a Sunday morning!” he guffawed. Upon noticing Freda didn’t have even the hint of a smile on her face, he cleared his throat again. “I apologise. Please continue.”
“Yes. As I was saying he has a constant look of irritation on his face. Like when one gets a Pomeranian underfoot, or when one hears the shrill wailing of Nikki Webster.”
“I see.” He said, scrawling the name “Nikki Webster” and the word “Pomeranian”. He drew an arrow from the name pointing to the breed, and added a question mark, coming to his own mini conclusion on a completely unrelated matter.
Loose Ends - Chapter 3
Posted: Mon Nov 10, 2003 6:48 pm
Freda shifted in her seat slightly, crossing her legs delicately, before she continued. "Most days, Mr LeHorni, you can find him up a tree on my late lamented fathers extensive grounds eating leaves and fruit, although he will occassionally eat an insect or smaller animal ... And every evening you will find him facing west towards Madagascar."
"Mmm hmm. Alright. OK. Yes. Well, I think that's all I'll be needing for now, thank you Freda." Frank buzzed Helen on the intercom. "Miss Highwater will take down all your particulars, and I will be seeing much more of you in the very near future."
"I'm quite sure you will, Mr LeHorni ..." Freda smirked knowingly, as she rose from her seat, extending her hand once again for Frank to shake. There was a brief knock on the office door, and Helen once again ducked her head through, "Please make your way to reception when you're ready, Ms Wales."
As Frank watched the departing form of the enigmatic Freda Wales attentively - yes, she had a great arse too - he battled with conflicting emotions. The woman was clearly a couple of stubbies short of a six-pack, but in the short time he had spent with her, he had developed an almost overwhelming desire to give her one. Or two. And then perhaps, if he was capable, several more. And if she wanted to pay him huge amounts of money to work on a ridiculous case, so be it.
He pulled out the surveillance photos he had hidden when Freda arrived, and picked up the phone. "Mr Broker? Good afternoon - LeHorni here. I'm calling to confirm your worst suspicions, I'm afraid. Your wife is having an affair with the pool cleaner." Frank held the reciever away while shrieks of disbelief and horror emenated from the earpiece. "Yes, Mr Broker, I am aware that you have an automatic pool cleaner - but I guess it takes all kinds. I'm very sorry. I'll send your final account along with the photos." Frank hung up the phone and sighed. It was often difficult to tell his clients the sordid truth, but that was what they paid him for.
Loose Ends - Chapter 4
Posted: Wed Nov 12, 2003 11:53 pm
After a few moments of blissful vacancy, Frank shook his head and looked around as if surprised to find himself in his own office. He grunted, stood up and went over to the filing cabinet, where he withdrew a rather thick manila folder. On the front cover was the name "Mr. Bread" and a phone number.
Briefly thumbing through the folder he extracted three pages stapled together. He dialled a number and waited for an answer.
“Ian. Frank LeHorni here. How are you?” He held the first page up, scanning the second page.
“I’m well, Frank, yourself?”
“As well as could be expected, Ian. I have some new information about your wife, and I think it would be a good idea if we discussed it over a Mountain Dew.”
“Sure, Frank. Why don’t you come around this afternoon – I’ll be hosing down the bathroom and could use a brief reprieve. Krauss is still in Russia with her parents.”
“Ian, I’d love to, but I haven’t the time. I wanted to break this to you gently, but it seems I’ll just have to flop it all out and let you have a good old fossick.”
“Really, Frank, I would prefer that.”
“Very well, Ian.” He sighed. He never liked breaking bad news over the phone, and this was the second time today. “Ian? Your concerns about your wife are not entirely unwarranted, although I can say for sure she is completely devoted to you. I was surprised, however, when I discovered her getting a Prince Albert on Novyy Arbat Ulitsa. What is a Prince Albert, you ask? I suggest you take a moment to look it up at http://www.urbandictionary.com
. You will receive an invoice in a few days; please don’t hesitate to let me know if there’s anything more I can do to help.” He hung the phone up after a few moments of deafening silence.
Loose Ends - Chapter 5
Posted: Tue Nov 18, 2003 4:29 pm
Frank leaned forward and shuffled the papers on his desk in a halfhearted tribute to cleaning, before making his way to the coat rack beside his office door. He extracted a fairly shabby trenchcoat from the clutter, shrugged it on nonchalantly, flipped the light and closed the door behind him. Helen looked up from her desk as he walked by. "Heading home Frank? Or are you going to do some groundwork on the Wales case?"
Frank looked down at Helen with a grin, and sat elegantly on the edge of her desk. "I think I'm going to call it a night Helen. I've just closed the Bread and Broker cases, so, as you'd expect, I feel like a shower and a couple of stiff drinks. You might as well shut down too, make the most of the evening while we have the chance. I'm expecting this Wales case to be a biggie ..." Frank interrupted himself suddenly and frowned with consternation, "Helen, do you think her tits were real?"
Helen snorted as she shut down her machine, then put her paperwork in order swiftly and stood up. "Honey, do you really care?" She shoved him to his feet as she made her way from behind the desk. "Let's get out of here before you change your mind."
Frank waved to Helen as they parted at the front door of the office. He turned up the collar on his trenchcoat against the cold wind blowing from the north, sending rubbish and foul smells into the air. Cars dawdled past, their occupants either miserable or angry. Frank trudged along the street to where his vehicle was parked. He hadn't decided yet if he would be angry or miserable when he joined the traffic, but as he scanned the faces of the other drivers, there did not seem to be a third option.
He slid gracefully into the bucket seat, and started the engine. "Purrs like a kitten!" he thought to himself, before subtly adjusting the fluffy dice hanging from his rearview mirror. "Datsun was onto a good thing when it made the 180b ..." He flicked the indicator, and waited impatiently for a break in the slow moving traffic. By the time he was finally moving he had decided angry was his expression for the ride home.
Coming to a swift halt in his driveway, the smell of burnt rubber filling his nose from the needless display of machismo, he slammed the car door and jogged to his front door. Once inside he removed his trenchcoat and hung it on a coat rack identical to the one in his office, before moving immediately to the lounge room where he poured himself a double shot of whisky. Downing it in one gulp, he poured himself another to drink at a more measured pace.
He had been sitting for less than thirty seconds when the phone rang. Grudgingly he wandered over to it and picked up the reciever. His eyebrows shot up in surprise as he heard the voice on the line. "How did you get this number?!" he demanded angrily, "Damn it! Yes, yes - I'm fine - how are you, Mother?"
Loose Ends - Chapter 6
Posted: Sun Nov 23, 2003 10:40 pm
Gently he lowered his left eyebrow back into a more comfortable position, while keeping the right one elevated. “Yes, mother. A cheese and bacon toasted sandwich and a small serving of Caesar salad. I passed up a good set of squirrel drumsticks too – I’m watching my weight... Yes, mother, that was a joke... Yes, I agree, it was in poor taste.” He considered lowering his right eyebrow too – his forehead was beginning to ache with the effort of keeping it suspended. Instead, he took a moment to roll his eyes and knock back whisky number two.
“Mother, I do apologise, but you visiting at the moment would be impossible – what with work, the Freda Wales case, I just won’t have a moment to spare for the foreseeable future... No, mother, it’s the name of a woman needing my services... Yes, mother, it is very ironic.” If it were three feet wide, a whooshing sound would have been emitted as his right eyebrow at last came to rest just a short distance above his right eye. Both eyebrows worked together now to produce a deep vertical crevasse just above his nose.
He sighed in resignation. “Yes, mother... Ok. I’ll see you Tuesday... No, no, just bring yourself – I have enough woollen knitted turtle-neck jumpers to last a lifetime... Ok... Yes, mother... Cheerio to you, too.” As he hung the phone up he thought to himself how remarkably phallic turtle-neck jumpers were, and decided to make enquiries the next day about getting a circumcision.
Loose Ends - Chapter 7
Posted: Tue Nov 25, 2003 2:09 pm
Four double shots of whisky and one shower later, Frank was feeling considerably better about the world in general, and after a brief flick through an illustrated medical encyclopaedia he happened to have lying around, had reconsidered his whim for a circumcision.
He flung the large book into the open fireplace which was the feature of his lounge room, and doggedly, but unsuccessfully, attempted to set fire to it. After 15 minutes of fruitless endeavour, he gave up. He stood, looked around for something more fruitful to do, and decided instead to watch TV. Lowering himself clumsily into his favourite lounge chair, he was suddenly confronted with a close up of a white face with black patches around its eyes, triangular ears with small white patches adorning the tops, and a moist nose.
Snuggling back attentively, he listened to the dulcet tones of David Attenborough, and against his better judgement, plummeted almost immediately to sleep. He jerked awake several hours later, stiff and uncomfortable from his awkward sleeping position, and made a mental note to kick himself bodily up and down his house. Then he went to bed.
His alarm clock began its hideous shrieking promptly at 7.30am. Frank blearily struggled out of his bed and made his way zombie-like to his bathroom. He did a great big smelly shit, felt refreshed for a moment, then his hangover reminded him to feel really, really bad. Showered and dressed by 8.00 he scraped up his car keys, locked his front door carefully, and trudged to his car.
Swearing gently, he finally found a park two blocks away from his office. He reached the door feeling tired and angry, stomped into his office, and did not even pause when he snapped the word "coffee" at Helen on his way past her desk.
"The power of the hangover is strong in you, Frank." Helen squawked oddly as she placed a steaming mug of strong, black coffee onto his desk minutes later.
"Helen, if I've asked you once, I've asked you a hundred times - no frigging Yoda impressions before 11am - now piss off, I've got work to do." Helen laughed happily, gave Frank the finger, and slammed his office door on her way out. She slammed the door in sheer high spirits and good humour, not angrily. Perhaps slightly to aggravate his hangover, but nothing more ...
Loose Ends - Chapter 8
Posted: Wed Nov 26, 2003 5:26 pm
Time seemed to be racing along at the speed of a snail on a treadmill. After half an hour of fierce competition between Frank's throbbing headache and his withering work ethic, he finally gave up, put his pen down and angrily scrunched up the piece of paper he was working on, along with the four words he had written.
He walked over to the window and looked out at the dreary day. On the street below he noticed an unusually tall and lanky young man wearing a trenchcoat and a beanie and scurrying from car to car, apparantly looking for an unlocked door. Rolling his eyes, he briskly opened the window and shouted down, "Hey tosspot, what the hell do you think you're doing?"
The lad stopped in his tracks and looked up, startled, then took off so fast his legs appeared to be moving in a circular motion, ala Road Runner. "Huh." He grunted to himself in a "well, bugger me" way. "I wonder how he learned to run like that." After a brief moment of contemplation, he reluctantly returned to his desk and sat down, and took a few minutes to carefully study every inch of the blank piece of paper in front of him. Just as he lifted his arm to reach for the pen, the intercom buzzed and Helen's dreadfully cheerful voice came through.
"Frank, its a brazen hussy on line two."
"Thanks, Helen," he pressed line two. "Frank LeHorni?"
There was a sniffling sound on the other end. "Mr. LeHorni? It's me, Freda." More sniffling, and a moist snort.
"Freda! What's wrong?" He cried supportively, and excitedly.
"Mr. LeHorni, I'm so terribly sorry to bother you, but" - there was a bubbling wet sound - " but do you think there is any chance you could come around this morning? I've got... some important information..." she trailed off.
"Well, Freda, just a moment, I'll consult my diary." Frank opened his diary and discovered a completely blank page representing today's appointments. "Um, Freda, I'll have to move a few things around, but I think I can probably squeeze you in."
"I'm sure you can, Mr. LeHorni," she breathed, then hung up.
Loose Ends - Chapter 9
Posted: Thu Nov 27, 2003 3:57 pm
Half an hour later, Frank pulled over to the side of the road and checked Freda's address on the scrap of paper Helen had given him. He was in a suburb he had never been to before. The houses, when you could see them past the massive security gates and high walls, were more like resort hotels. He looked over at the pair of massive gates to his left, and searched for a number. Unable to find one, he got out of the car, wandered over to the intercom setup and buzzed hopefully.
"Yes? Can I help you?" A deep male voice crackled through the tiny speaker.
"I hope so - I'm Frank LeHorni, I'm looking for Freda Wales, have I got the right address?"
"Indeed you have, Mr LeHorni. Let me buzz you in. Drive your vehicle up to the forecourt. I'll let Ms Wales know that you're here."
"Why, thank you. See you shortly." Frank trotted back to his car as the gates slowly began to swing open. He started the engine, and began his journey along the long paved drive, bordered with large palms. From the start of the driveway, he could not even see the house, but he could see extensive, immaculately manicured grounds falling away on all sides. "Holy shit!" Frank exclaimed, and mentally added another 200% to his quote.
When the house finally came into view he added another 130%. A monstrously large white building, three storeys high, with large windows and a slate grey roof, it reminded Frank of an old slaveowners mansion from America's deep south. The impression became stronger as a tall man of African or West Indian heritage dressed in a classic butler uniform opened the huge front doors and gestured for Frank to make his way inside.
Frank considered briefly whether to throw some sort of camouflage over his vehicle, and was on the verge of picking up a few fallen palm leaves for this purpose, when his inate pride in his 180b got the better of him. He casually leant back into the car for a moment, and sprayed himself discreetly with a couple more gallons of Old Spice to try and hide the stench of alcohol, which he could sense relentlessly seeping out of his pores.
Pocketing his keys, he sauntered up the steps to the front door, where the butler was waiting patiently. "Mr LeHorni? My name is Jeeves - and before you ask, don't." he extended his hand, which Frank shook. Jeeves looked momentarily startled, and then haughtily annoyed, "Sir, your keys? We'll just move your vehicle to a more, erm, convenient location."
"Oh, of course ..." Frank dropped Jeeves's hand promptly, and covered his awkwardness by fumbling in his pockets.
"Ms Wales is waiting for you in the second drawing room. Just go through the front door, past the foyer, up the spiral staircase, follow the hallway to the right, and its your 7th door on the left. I will be in shortly to serve drinks, if sir feels up to it." Jeeves sniffed the air disapprovingly, and strode towards the 180b.
Loose Ends - Chapter 10
Posted: Thu Nov 27, 2003 11:18 pm
Frank thought about waiting, bemused, as Jeeves wrestled with his temperamental steed, but then he decided against it and instead ducked through the front door. He gaped and again doubled his quote as he stood in awe of the splendidly decorated foyer. The ceiling was so high it seemed to have its own atmospheric system, there was way too much satin and gold trimming for his liking, but it was all extremely expensive looking!
He noticed a large spiral staircase a decent hike ahead and made his way towards it, taking in the various paintings, portraits and dodgy furniture as he went. They all appeared fairly nondescript, except for one – a picture of a thin, noble-looking lady; nose securely fastened a few feet above the rest of her face. The odd thing was that she was wearing nothing but two strategically positioned tic-tacs and a piece of dental floss. He took a few moments, wondering whether the feat of engineering displayed before him was merely an artists impression.
Continuing on, he mounted the staircase. As he minced his way up the stairs, and speaking of mounting, he couldn’t help wondering whether Ms Wales needed some comfort of the traditional LeHorni variety. He reached the top of the staircase with a large, dopey grin plastered on his face.
The grin then faded, and rapidly turned upside-down, ending up in a frown of consternation as he tried to remember whether Jeeves said to follow the hallway to the right, 7th door on the left, or to follow the hallway to the left, 7th door on the right. He desperately wished he could ask him...
Deciding on the latter, he turned left and trotted eagerly to the seventh door. After rapidly straightening his clothes and smoothing his hair, he reached out, turned the handle and strode confidently into the room.
There, before him, was a large inflatable dinosaur, three midgets with whips, and a man chained to the wall, wearing nothing but a mask and a smile. This was all fine and dandy, but he wasn’t expecting there to be a fluffy dog lying back on the sofa, somehow holding both a large cucumber and jar of Vaseline.
Just then, behind him, he heard a familiar throat being cleared.
Loose Ends - Chapter 11
Posted: Fri Nov 28, 2003 12:42 am
"Sir seems to have misplaced himself." Jeeves stood silhouetted and disapproving in the open doorway behind him. "If sir will please follow me immediately, sir," he cast an even more withering glance at Frank, sneering gently, "I will guide sir to where I told sir to go."
"I'm terribly sorry Jeeves - I must have misheard you." Frank strode once again, this time less confidently, and out of the room. "Take me to your leader!"
Jeeves made no pretence of smiling, closed the door firmly, and swiftly headed back down the hallway, past the spiral staircase, around the next corner, to the 7th door on the left. He knocked twice, waited for an answer, looked at Frank with distain, and opened the door. "Ms Wales, your visitor." he announced, ushering Frank past him like a lamb to the slaughter. He closed the door gently behind Frank.
Frank stood for a moment, and took in the scene before him. The room was spacious, filled with expensive looking furniture, and relatively neat, apart from a small coffee table covered in full ashtrays, half filled scotch glasses and empty decanters. Freda was lying on a chaise longue, her flimsy nightdress in disarray, with her arm flung elegantly across her forehead like a swooning movie starlet from the 1940's. He half expected her to request smelling salts. "Freda, my dear, what on earth has happened?" he knelt by her side, and took her hand.
"Oh, Frank - Frank, I can't tell you how glad I am you're here." Freda wailed, "It's just too awful for words!" She flung her arm back again, dramatically, almost dislodging Frank's nose from its usual location on the front of his face, near the middle.
"Shit - I mean, ooooh." Frank checked subtly that his face still possessed all the charms it had entered the room with, and satisfied with the results, resumed his attentions to his distraught client. "My dear woman, you must tell me what has happened!"
"Well Frank, I will tell you, I just have to compose myself." Freda inched up to a sitting position on the longue, her nightdress revealing that if indeed her bosoms were man-made, the man who made them was indeed a credit to his profession. "It's my so called brother, Frank, he's -"
A sharp knock on the door cut Freda off abruptly. A moment later the door swung wide to admit Jeeves, who was carrying a fresh decanter of scotch, and two glasses filled with ice. "Drinks, Ms Wales. After a morning as traumatic as this I'm sure madam will excuse me for allowing myself the audacity to assume you could do with a refill?" Jeeves smiled down at the almost prostrate form of his mistress with a cowering submissiveness that made Frank cringe. He placed the fresh items on the table, and slowly began clearing away some of the the mess.
"Thank you Jeeves, now piss off - I'm trying to talk!" Freda sat up hurriedly, grabbed one of the remaining empty glasses on the coffee table, and flung it viciously at Jeeves's rapidly retreating form. "God, it's hard to find good help." she muttered, as the glass shattered against the closed door.
Frank had retreated slightly during this exchange, and with wonder he watched as Freda resumed her former position as the wounded heroine. She was definitely a couple of sandwiches short of a picnic ...
"Oh, Frank," she sniffled, "my "brother" has gone too far this time. It's little Foo Foo, my pomeranian -" Freda paused, her body racked with sobs, "he's," sniffle, "he's eaten him!"
Loose Ends - Chapter 12
Posted: Mon Dec 01, 2003 10:55 pm
“Oh you poor, poor thing!” exclaimed Frank, reaching out to comfort poor wailing Freda. Frank also started sniffling as he realised the pain poor Freda was going through - he became unexpectedly emotional. He accidentally pictured the scene of a normally herbivorous lemur going postal and rending an innocent Pomeranian. Perhaps it was the latent effects of the hangover, but the more Frank thought about it, the sadder he got and within moments he was a complete blubbering mess.
Several minutes later, eyes scrunched up and tears gushing down his face, he decided he’d better get a hold of himself. Slowly he wiped and opened his eyes, a little embarrassed, and looked around. Surprised to find that Freda had left the room while he was curled up in a foetal position, he stood up, brushed himself off and set about searching for his quarry.
“Freda? Oh, Freda?” He called out, opening the door to the hallway. “Freda?” He swanned down the hallway, turned the corner, and there was Freda, standing over Jeeves, who appeared to be “assuming the position”. He was bent over double, clutching his ankles, a grimace contorting his face. Freda was standing a few metres behind him with a large, flat paddle over one shoulder, and appeared to be about to launch into an attack. Frank took the opportunity to clear his throat, something he was by now well practised at.
“Ahem” he said. At least, that’s the closest approximation of the sound that can be expressed in written word. Freda looked around. “Ah, Frank. Pulled yourself together then?” Frank, hands in pockets, scuffed the floor meekly with one shoe. Freda took the opportunity to embark on her brutal assault on Jeeves' ideally situated arse – it happened to be sitting atop his thighs, and Jeeves was thankful for its presence, for a number of reasons. Not the least of which was the protection it afforded as the considerable force of the paddle hit soundly and sent him sprawling along the corridor. Nonetheless, Jeeves immediately stood up, said “Thank you, madam,” bowed briskly, repositioned his nose in the air and marched down the spiral staircase.
Freda looked around again. "Oh, Frank! There you are."
Loose Ends - Chapter 13
Posted: Thu Dec 04, 2003 7:41 pm
"Yes, um, I must apologise for before, I really felt your pain ..." Frank absentmindedly put his left hand to his buttock protectively.
"That's quite alright Frank, I appreciate you letting yourself get so involved." Freda paused as she placed the paddle on a hook on the wall. "Shall we walk? I'd like to show you around - you'll have to get to know the place."
"Yes, of course. Where should we start?"
"Let's start at the top, and work our way down."
Frank pursed his lips, and raised his eyebrow. Catching sight of himself in a nearby mirror, he hastily adjusted his expression so that he didn't look quite so much as if he were an escaped mental patient. "Yes, that's the way I usually like to do it, Freda." he said, brazenly looking Freda up and down.
Freda fluttered her eyelashes demurely, and strolled past Frank towards the stairs, which she began to ascend. Frank followed a few paces behind to give himself the most satisfying view of her pert buttocks. Eventually they reached the top, and Freda continued to her left, passing numerous doors on both sides of the seemingly endless hallway. Finally she paused in front of a door, and waited a moment for Frank to catch up. "Here we are, Frank, the start of our tour." She put her hand onto the doorknob, and let the door swing open.
Frank stood frozen as he glimpsed the room beyond. "Holy Guacamole, Freda - that is certainly one of the most original decorating schemes I've seen in a long time! What is this place?"
"Why, thank you, Frank," Freda purred, leaning forward to take Frank's hand, and lead him firmly into the room, "This is my bedroom ..."
Loose Ends - Chapter 14
Posted: Thu Dec 11, 2003 11:56 pm
Looking around, Frank began to feel uneasy at the amount of puce used throughout the room. Seeing his concerned expression, Freda said, “Frank, look at me.” She reached behind her neck and with a click and a brief fumble her nightdress cascaded to the ground, providing an appropriate pedestal for the statuesque and completely stark naked Freda.
Frank couldn’t help gaping, and went so far as to let out a muffled groan at the spectacle before him. Her perfectly formed norgs were now on the rampage and they held their prey firmly in their gaze like a rabbit transfixed by a car’s headlights. “Frank”, she whispered. Frank goggled, unsure of what to do, having been reduced to an awkward 13 year old by the magnificent exhibition.
“Freda. I um… I’m not sure I um… Well you see, um...” Frank stammered as Freda and her jugs approached. “Shhhh. Frank, you talk too much,” breathed Freda as she pressed her finger against Frank’s lips. He shivered as she traced the outline of his lips with her finger. “Frank, I’d like you to do me. Do me like you’ve never done anyone before.” She moved her finger down his jaw and from there to his neck, and then slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Shaking uncontrollably, he moaned with hunger as she deftly unbuttoned his trousers, which moments later pooled with a whisper at his feet.
Wasting no time, she proceeded to free his raging manhood from its boxer shorts jail – he sprang free into the palm of her hand with an odd squeak. Then she lay back on the bed. “Frank,” she whispered huskily. “Come here, Frank.” She patted the bed beside her. With the coiled reflexes of an Ewok with ADD, Frank pounced on Freda and, feeling her syrupy moistness, thrust deep inside. Unprepared for the feeling of completeness, of perfect oblivion, he almost immediately popped his load, and collapsed on Freda, utterly spent.
“Oh for fuck's sake. Is that it?” said Freda angrily. Just then, yet again, he heard a familiar throat being cleared.
Loose Ends - Chapter 15
Posted: Mon Dec 15, 2003 5:59 pm
Frank noted thankfully that the noise was emenating from behind the closed bedroom door, and swiftly covered himself with a corner of the sheet. The bedroom door swung noiselessly on its hinges, revealing Jeeves carrying a tray of cucumber sandwiches. "Your lunch madam." he cooed, and raised his eyebrows into a sneer. "Would madam like me to get her cigarettes for her, too?".
"There's no need, I'm afraid. Just put the tray over there," Freda gestured towards a puce dressing table, delicately covered with a puce throw, "and get out."
Jeeves placed the tray, and backed out of the room hastily. The moment the door was closed, Freda wheeled to face Frank. "What the hell was that?!"
"You asked me, and I quote, to do you like I’ve never done anyone before. I was merely following instructions Freda. That is exactly how I would do you if I'd never done anyone before. If on the other hand, you had asked me to satisfy you completely, like a caring and sensitive lover ..." Frank gabbled, and fidgeted nervously with the sheet covering his lap.
"In that case, perhaps you should try again, you silly boy." Freda lunged towards Frank, knocking him heavily to the ground, before stripping him of the sheet, which he had pulled with him off the bed.
"You've twisted my arm." Frank said, his voice muffled by Freda's turgid knockers.
Freda giggled wantonly, "I knew you'd see it my way."
"No, you've actually twisted my arm." Frank pleaded, "It really hurts, can you get off me?"
Freda sprung from Frank's prostrate form, flung open her bedroom door, and stormed out of the room.
"Freda? Freda!" Frank wailed, "I hope you're getting some ice ..." He pulled himself gingerly to a sitting position - fleetingly wishing he had haunches - and gently cradled his injured limb. As he looked around him for something to use as a bandage, he realised with some dismay that Freda had left without putting any clothes on. She was parading around butt naked, and he wasn't there to appreciate it. Clumsily, because of his injury, he pulled his trousers on, and left the room in search of Freda.