In the unlikeliest of places, I run into a friend from school

Going back to work at the On-Demand Detective Agency-- yes, I'm still calling it that-- felt like a betrayal of all of the logic and rationality that either a detective or an aspiring mystery writer ought to employ. Just the other day, I'd spent my first day on the job trying to suss out a mystery where there was none, being tossed around a wrestling ring, then having my futa parts milked, then having someone else's futa parts unloaded onto my face. It had been a nightmare of a day, in other words, one that could only be called pleasurable in the brief, carnal sense that having your penis tugged until you cum has to be called pleasurable.

However... going back to that "aspiring mystery writer" part, I was quite broke. Extremely broke. Broke enough to wake up and put back on my pant-suit for another day at ODD. It might seem strange to you, but bruised and humiliated as I was by yesterday's events, I had been given work... well-paying work. My pride could not stand up to the mysterious oodles of cash that Genkei had to throw at a rookie detective with no qualifications like me. As such, I reported back the next day and went to greet my boss. I will say, in preservation of my character: just because I wanted the money didn't mean I wanted to see the grinning, hyper-enthusiastic face of my perverse, futanari-fetishist employer. On the contrary, I think meeting with him was the part I dreaded the most, rather than any aspect of humiliation the work might have in store for me or my penis.

It was to my great surprise that I found the morning starting on a brighter note than I'd expected. As I rounded the corner from the outer reception area towards the back of the office, coffee in one hand and suitcase in the other, I nearly ran into a surprisingly familiar face-- a rather handsome one at that! This fetching lady, with the blonde hair and blue eyes of a foreigner, dressed in a sharp tan blazer and skirt, was one of my dearest friends from back during my school days: Ms. Charlee Hawthorne! We'd fallen out of touch as of late-- kind of hard to keep up with old acquaintances when one is so hard on money that one is doing, well, all of this-- but she was the one I most wanted to reconnect with. She'd always been such an inspiration! While I'd studied to become a novelist of the mystery genre, she'd walked the walk for real, aiming to become a true detective. I could only imagine how high she'd already climbed in her chosen field.

There were other reasons I wanted to meet her again too, which, if we've come this far, I will not be ashamed to spell out. With her gorgeous, model-like height, pretty, fair skin, and slender figure, as well as what I know to be rather sizable futa endowments, she was not just the woman I admired the most, but also, one who I'd always hoped to find an occasion to date. We'd always been friends, but she was just so stunning, so pretty, that I'd always wondered if we'd become more than that. Slumber parties were spent staring wistfully. Study sessions were spent distracted. Trips to the beach were burned spending awkward amounts of time staring at the shape of a bulge against her otherwise elegant, lady-like swimsuit. Late nights were spent stroking my own less significant penis against the caress of a tissue as I--

O-Okay, I think you get the drift. She's hot, okay? That's what I'm getting at. Plus, add to all of that that she's a real detective, like a heroine straight out of one of my novels?! Can you blame me for being a bit horny?

I said none of this as I babbled out a nerdy, socially awkward "hello, ma'am." I couldn't bring myself to say her name, reintroduce herself, or anything further. Like me, she was carrying a coffee cup and seemed to be in a slight bit of a hurry before we nearly collided. If she didn't recognize me, I'd just quietly slip on by and, you know, wither and curse myself at my ineptitude somewhere down the line for failing to seize upon this very moment--

"Katsumi Hojo, my old mate! I hadn't an inkling I'd run into you this morning," she spoke in that blended dialect I'd always found so appealing. My heart leaped into my throat as I tried not to let my affections show on my face. The girl shifted her coffee to her other hand, then smiled warmly as she extended her shaking hand out towards me.

I set down my briefcase, then took her hand with my own shaking fingers, returning the handshake awkwardly as my lips curled into a self-conscious smile. She was still so radiant... even more so than when we were in school! Her expression was shining like the sun... so bright! I felt peaceful and blissful for just a moment, before suddenly, it all shattered thanks to those dreaded words, next out her mouth:

"What are you doing in a place like this?"

Suddenly, my goofy smile shriveled into a pursed frown and my eyes bulged like saucers behind my thick-framed glasses. I couldn't tell her. I'd be mad to do so. This stunning paragon of decency, charm, and intellect could not possibly be allowed to know that I was knowingly offering my services out to various sexual enterprises under the paper-thin guise of playing detective. Without thinking, I turned the question around on her: "what are you doing here?" It was the stupidest thing I could possibly ask. I imagine you, dear reader, are remembering all of the stupidest things you've ever asked to an old flame of yours.

That said, I was curious.

Her expression when I asked that question wasn't one I'd anticipated; her smile turned suddenly uncomfortable and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Ah, well... Just a quick in-and-out before I go head out to my natural profession--"

Feeling a sense of foreboding, I pried further. It was like picking at a scab that you know will bleed. You have no good reason to do it, but you just can't help yourself, and you suffer for your lack of willpower immediately after. "Which is?"

The girl's lips tightened into a thin line as she withdrew one hand to rest in the side pocket of her blazer and leaned against the wall, crossing one of her long, shapely legs over the other. Even with her being dodgy and cornered like this, I still found her so roguishly attractive. "You first, Katsumi."

I sighed and slumped my shoulders, then told her: "I work here." It was the worst thing I could possibly admit to my idol, a true detective--

"Me too," Charlee admitted quietly, then took a long sip from her coffee while her open, blue eyes stared meaningfully into mine, urging me to think about the implications of that statement.

...

Even writing it now, I can't quite believe it. What is this place? Is it some kind of black hole that draws in not only failing writers of detective novels, but also full-blown, legitimate, qualified detectives with their whole bright futures ahead of them? I was never as smart or as pretty or as ambitious as Charlee... "How could we possibly be working in the same place? Why would we be?" I clasped my hands over my mouth in terror and self-admonishment as I realized I'd said those insulting words out loud! I wished now that she had a real detective's gun, so that there would be some chance she might shoot me and get it over with.

The girl laughed genially, then pushed off the wall. "I'm here because I want to be, though it's still embarrassing to talk to someone I know about it," she answered politely in a sonorous voice.

I couldn't help prodding: "why?"

"The money, obviously," she answered, taking another very suspicious sip of her brew. This time, her eyes didn't meet mine. I got the feeling she was hiding something from me...

Anyways, in some ways, this was a good thing, right? I may not be happy to see that she got stuck in the same ant trap I ended up in, but compared to the Princess I met the other day, Charlee was a ray of sunshine! Smart, saavy, dedicated, friendly, not the type to look at me as though I was a shit-stain on the bottom of their high-heeled boot. In other words, whereas the Princess was brash and moved through life by throwing her muscle and dominance around, Charlee was the nice kind of person that's always helping others and making a good impression! I told her honestly that I was happy I bumped into her.

"Oh, same! Really was great catching up with you, Katsumi. We'll have to have coffee some time," Charlee finished, suddenly seeming to burst back into full-speed as she passed by me.

Wait! Why?! W-We're both drinking coffee right now, aren't we?! Shouldn't we catch up over coffee right now? Don't leave me here to report to Genkei!! I wanted to shout all of these things but the words were caught in my throat. Fortunately, something else stopped Charlee before she could finish her dash out the door.