He takes control

He lead me over to a couch and gently pushed me down. I straightened my clothes and crossed my legs. I took in the room. Exquisite carvings showed mythological scenes all along the borders. Greek, Roman, and Egyptian mythological images, floral motifs, Latin sayings, etc. Its like the designer couldn't make up his mind. A fireplace was in the corner and the whole floor was covered in a thick Persian rug. Without saying anything, he mixed up a couple of drinks and handed one to me. Scotch, and expensive. He sat down beside me and looked into my eyes. We drank the first glass in silence. He mixed another for both of us, and put a record on the player.

"So, Priscilla. You have a gun in that handbag, roaming eyes that tried too hard to take the whole place in when you came in, asked the only question a girl who looks like you ever asked when they are looking for this place in particular, and thought those perfect breasts of yours would melt the brains of my informants. So, now that that is out of the way, mind telling me what you are looking for?" he said, his thick fingers nearly making the glass he was holding disappear. I sipped my drink and blushed. I'd been made before on a job, but never before I even had a chance to start.

"I'm with a detective agency, looking for a missing person." I said, biting my lower lip after I said it. The scotch was strong, and working fast.

"Yeah. Who might that be?"

"Miss Valerie Chase. We were informed that you knew her." I watched his eyes flash. He knew her, alright. I could practically still smell her on his breath. He thought about lying, but sighed and came clean.

"Yeah, I know her, and her "sister" quite well. She sings here. Stick around and she'll be onstage in a couple hours." She aint missing." he said, eyes getting a little glassy from the Scotch. I took a sip of mine, and couldn't believe I actually found a lead before Mike. I smiled, and he took that to mean I was happy with that proposition. I finished my second glass of scotch. He mixed up a third, and grabbed another cigarette. He sat it down, and pulled his jacket off. He was very well muscled under that shirt. I felt it again. I was getting wet. He started to light his cigarette, and paused. He sniffed the air, and smiled at me.

I held my breath as he slid over to me and put his hands on my knees. "Its like that, eh?" he said, and put one hand under my left knee, sliding his thick fingers up my stockinged thigh. My blue eyes locked onto his and I held my breath as I felt his thick, calloused finger slide up my pussy lips, feeling the slick, wet meat. I shuddered at the touch. He held my gaze and slowly, excruciatingly slowly, slid that big finger into me.