The Sleepwalking Detective
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This story is entered in the 2016 Nude Day contest. This is a longish tale with anal, incest, first time, group, lesbian, non-consent and regular sex. Our group of amateur detectives must bare it all to catch a killer.
“Uh . . . Uh . . . Uh,” Tony grunted as he thrust. He rhythmically shoved his cock into the hairy hole of his coitus partner. They were screwing doggie-style. Patsy matched him thrust for thrust and groan for groan.
“Oh . . . Oh . . . Oh,” moaned Patsy as she enjoyed his thick cock.
Betty Lou ignored the fact that the bedroom door in the mobile home was closed. She burst into the room and said to her husband and her eighteen year-old daughter,
“You two still going at it? Knock it off or come all ready. I’ve got important stuff to talk about.”
Tony shifted into another gear and more rapidly fucked his step-daughter. Betty Lou leaned over, grabbed her daughter’s chunky nipple and twisted hard.
“Fuucckk!” Patsy cried out. First in pain then her cry changed to one of ecstasy as she climaxed. Her young pussy clenched down on Tony’s ample dick and he blew his load in her twat.
Betty Lou walked out to the kitchen area, grabbed a cup and poured herself some coffee. She slid into the dinette seat as the two lovers convulsed and then recovered. They tossed on some clothes and joined her.
Betty Lou said, “I’ve found our next mark. Just look at this goofball.”
She held up a flier with Lawrence Clunk’s photo. It showed an unkempt, middle-aged man. The pale face, thick glasses and uncombed hair shouted “nutty professor” which was a pretty good description of the man with two PhD’s.
Betty Lou said, “My Prince Charming is rich and recently widowed. Does he strike you as the kind of man who can get along on his own?”
Patsy replied, “No. Look at what he’s wearing. Plaid and strips. Please! And look how thin he is. That’s concentration camp skinny.”
“He needs me,” Betty Lou teased. She smiled like a hungry wolf and added, “And I need his money.”
They all had a good laugh. Then Betty Lou said, “He’s lecturing at a place called Maymont. It’s a public park with an old house, a zoo, water falls and some fancy gardens. Sounds like a weird combination to me. Either of you know anything about the Gilded Age?”
Both shook their head “No”.
She said, “Me neither. Anyway. I’m going to meet this guy, dazzle him with my big boobs, marry him and then become a very rich widow.”
“Huh. What?” Malcolm groaned. He had been sound asleep. He clumsily reached for the ringing phone and knocked the receiver off the cradle. He picked it off the floor and said, “Hello?”
“Son! Dad here. I have news.”
“Is Winnie okay?” He asked anxiously about his sister. Aside from his father, she was the only immediate family he had.
“Winnifred? I guess she’s okay. Oh wait. I’m not calling with bad news. This is good news.”
“Dad, it’s three in the morning here. You scared the crap out of me. People think bad news is coming when the phone rings in the middle of the night.”
“I’m sorry, son. It didn’t occur to me that a phone call in the middle of the night might unnerve you, but then you know I’m not wired like most people. Listen, I’m in Las Vegas and I’m feeling a little giddy. I just got married. I felt I should tell you.”
“Married? I didn’t know you were dating.”
Malcolm’s dad, Lawrence, had been a widower for just six months. His wife of 22 years passed away in an unfortunate accident. She had been sitting on a bench in their yard, a tree limb fell and hit her on the head. She died two days later.
“Well, yes,” his father answered embarrassed. He had a habit of stuttering when he was anxious or ashamed.
“I . . . I . . . I was lecturing at Maymont Park on industrialization during the Gilded Age a few months back and I met Betty Lou. She complimented me on my presentation and said she had a few questions so we had a coffee. We started dating and well . . . now we’re married.
“Sorry for not inviting you to the wedding, son. It was a spur of the moment decision. Betty Lou told me today that she was pregnant. We went to a chapel to make things right.”
“Oh, I see. Umm. Congratulations.”
“Thanks. Ah . . . Well, that’s all I have to say. Stop by the old homestead when you get back in the States. I have to let your sister know. Bye.”
“Bye,” Malcolm said. His dad didn’t hear him because he’d all ready hung up the phone.
“Christ Almighty” Malcolm said out loud to himself. “Way to go Dad. The Clunks social awkwardness rears its ugly head again. Who gets married six months after burying their wife of twenty years? Only someone clueless about society’s norms. . . A Clunk!”
Malcolm answered the ringing phone and heard, “Hello, Malcolm. It’s Winnie. I have unwelcomed information.”
“What is it Sis?”
“Dad’s been admitted into the hospital. He was involved in a severe vehicular accident. The doctor said he isn’t in danger of expiring, but he’s got kartal escort multiple injuries: lacerations, abrasions and a fractured tibia.”
“He was motoring to town on Route 6. When he reached the stretch of road everyone calls “Dead Man’s Curve”, his brakes malfunctioned. He crashed through the barrier, went down the knoll and ended up in the ravine.”
“Damn it! Him and his old cars. Mom was always worried that one of the muscle cars he’s always restoring would be the death of him.”
“I’m guessing you’ve met the new wife. What’s she like?”
“Flashy. Verbose. She couldn’t be more different from Mom. She describes herself as “just a little old country girl from Texas with big hair and big boobs”. I’m uncomfortable around her.”
“Ha!” Malcolm laughed. “Of course you are. We Clunks are anxious and uncomfortable around everyone. We just aren’t “people” people.”
The rental car pulled up and Malcolm quickly got out. His sister ran out of their childhood home to meet him.
“Oh Malcolm! The ambulance just took Dad back to the hospital,” Winnifred said. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She hugged him tight and said,
“When he first came home from the hospital, he seemed to be be improving, but in the last couple of days, he just became more infirm and languid. I’m really concerned. “
She sobbed. He held his sister tight. They comforted one another and then got into his car and drove to the hospital.
Betty Lou and Patsy sat in the car at the hospital.
“Damn you Patsy! This is all your fault.”
“Me! Why me? I gave him the poison like you told me. It’s not my fault that the tough, old buzzard wouldn’t die.”
“Now we’re in a pickle. The son will be here soon. I don’t want him interfering with our plan. We have to finish Larry off. I have stuff in my purse that’ll do the job.”
Betty Lou and Patsy went into Lawrence’s hospital room. They tried their best to look like concerned family members. Betty Lou went to her unconscious husband and said,”Come on, Larry. Wake up. “
She turned to the male nurse in the room who was checking the many machines that were aiding or monitoring her husband. She asked, “How’s he doing?”
“He appears stable,” he said. He gave her a small, encouraging smile and then went back to checking the readings of his instruments.
Betty Lou walked over to Patsy and whispered, “We have to bump Larry off now. Go in the bathroom and take your bra off. Here’s the plan. . . . .”
Betty Lou stood by Larry’s side waiting for her daughter to return. Patsy entered the room and pretended to trip. She dumped her purse on the floor.
“Oh no. What a mess I’ve made,” Patsy said trying to sound helpless.
Patsy got on her hands and knees to pick up the contents of her purse. Her top fell away from her chest exposing her bobbing boobs and her small pink nipples. The nurse’s eyes instantly focused on her mammaries. He dropped to a knee and helped Patsy gather her stuff while he helped himself to a close up view of her unrestrained tits.
The planned distraction was 100% effective and Betty Lou took full advantaged. She pulled a syringe out of her purse, injected an overdose quantity of medicine into one of Lawrence’s line. Almost before she could return the syringe to her bag, Larry was dying.
Malcolm and Winnifred met Betty Lou and her daughter, Patsy, in the waiting area. Betty Lou said,
“You must be Malcolm. You look so much like your Dad. You have his lanky build. I’m sorry that we have to meet in a hospital. The doctor was just here. He told us that your father has passed away.
She enveloped him in a big hug and pressed her large breasts into his slender frame. Malcolm at first stood there, unresponsive, his arms at his side. She said, “There. There. I know this is a difficult time.”
Patsy went to Winnie and clasped her hands. She appeared sad and said, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“What happened?” Malcolm asked.
“The doctor said it was his heart.”
Malcolm was stunned and confused. “It was a car accident. He broke his leg.”
“The doctor said it was all too much. The accident, his injuries and the general state of his health. He wasn’t getting any better and then suddenly, he took a turn for the worst. He just slipped away. The doctor said he didn’t suffer. Thank God!” Betty explained.
The Clunks in general were ill at ease with people. Stress-filled situations like this, were even more difficult for them. It was as if they had been born missing some social component that the rest of the world seem to have naturally.
The Clunks knew certain behaviors were expected of them, but they innately didn’t know what to do or say and therefore often did or said the wrong thing. Their lack of a proper response often caused problems. People would make fun of them or ostracize them. They quickly got categorized as being different, strange, odd.
Malcolm eventually realized that he, his sister and father kurtköy escort were not like other people. They lacked a certain social awareness. This deficiency made him an outcast and a laughingstock in high school. He also suffered while attending the state university. He had few friends and no girls were interested in dating the college weirdo.
For a time, Malcolm felt certain that he would die a virgin. Over the summer of his sophomore year when he was still a dateless, unkissed virgin, he vowed to overcome the family curse.
In his junior and senior years at college, he worked hard to overcome this deficiency. He took classes in psychology, sociology and human behavior. He learned the actions and emotional responses that came naturally to others. He learned them much like a person might learn a foreign culture and language.
The proof that he now was fluent and could pass in society as a normal person came in a blow out, after graduation frat party. He chatted up a classmate, got her phone number and a goodnight kiss.
Malcolm tamped down his anxiety and forced himself to return Betty Lou’s hug. He allowed her to comfort him even though the close contact with a person he’d just met made him uneasy. He waited until she finished speaking and then gave the learned, appropriate response. He said,”Thank you.”
Betty Lou moved on. She hugged and offered comfort and condolences to Winnie. She embraced her and said, “Come here you. I know just how you feel. I can remember as if it was yesterday the day when I lost my pa.”
Winnie cringed at the contact and didn’t return the hug. It took all her strength not to scream. She prayed the contact would soon end. When Betty Lou released the young woman, Winnie said, “What
is your due date?”
“When are you expecting to give birth to my half-brother or half-sister?”
Betty Lou was confused gave her a perplexed look.
Malcolm couldn’t believe it, no that wasn’t right, his sister would ask such a question as such an inappropriate time. “Oh God!,” he thought. “Only a Clunk would asked a personal question like that to a just widowed woman”. He hung his head.
Betty Lou was shocked that Winnie picked this moment to ask that question. She looked at her strangely and then said, “Are you talking about the baby that Larry and I thought we were going to have? It turned out to be a false alarm.”
She changed the subject saying, “Let’s all go home. There’s nothing we can do here. Larry and I had talked about this — what to do if one of us died. He asked to be cremated and have a simple family gathering at the house. No grave-side service.”
Winnie cried out. “Dad had taphophobia!”
Patsy and Betty Lou looked at her in bewilderment. The young woman with the mass of unruly black hair frightened them with her outburst. They had no clue what she was talking about.
Malcolm explained, “Taphophobia is the fear of being buried alive. Many times our father told us that that was his greatest fear. He asked us to delay his burial for three days . . . “
“NO!” Betty shouted. She had just killed the man. She needed all evidence of the murder destroyed.
She said in a calmer tone, “Your father was a man of science. If the doctors at the hospital say he’s dead, he’s dead.”
On the ride home, Winnie said, “Malcolm, something’s not right. Why did Dad never tell his wife about his fear of being buried alive?”
“I don’t know Sis. He told me many times that he wanted his body to be laid out for three days to be sure that he was really dead. The other more likely possibility is he told Betty Lou and she is disregarding his wishes. “
“Why would Betty Lou lie?” Winnie asked. “I . . . I” she stuttered embarrassed to admit her failing. “I lack a connection and a good understanding of people. It causes problems sometimes. Is my condition causing me to miss something?”
“Sis, I don’t believe we are mis-reading anything. I think it is odd that Betty Lou is ignorant of or flat out disregarding Dad’s long expressed wish to delay his burial. Unfortunately since she is his wife, she gets to make that decision.”
When Winnie and Malcolm came down for dinner there were two new people in the room. Betty Lou pointed to the man seated at the table and said,
“In times like these, it helps to have family around. This is my brother Tony. Tony, this is Malcolm and his sister Winnifred, Larry’s children.”
Tony tipped his cowboy hat and said, “Howdy.”
Tony looked like a stereotypical cowboy. He wasn’t tall, but he was powerfully built. He had a tanned and weathered face. It was easy to imagine him riding a horse and roping a steer.
Betty Lou continued with the introductions. She pointed to the slender blonde who at present had her back to everyone. Betty Lou asked, “Do you recognize your cousin, Nancy Drew? She says she hasn’t seen you in years. She is going to be a student at University. She showed up today unexpectedly.”
Malcolm said, “Raquel, is that you?”
“Raquel? pendik escort I thought you said your name was Nancy Drew?” A confused Betty Lou asked.
“Sorry Mrs. Clunk. It’s an inside joke. When I was in middle school, Malcolm, Winnie and I used to play detective. Malcolm was Sherlock Holmes. Winnie and I fought over who would be Nancy Drew.
My real name is Raquel Larsson.”
Raquel smiled showing bright, strong teeth. She was cute. Maybe pretty on a good hair day. She had small eyes and a nose that was a little too big for her face. The best thing going for her was her personality. She outgoing and an vivacious.
Winnie said, “Raquel, when you and your parents decamped and went to dwell among an indigenous tribe in South America, we were so envious!”
“Of course you were! After I graduated from high school, I went to live in a world without electricity. I was completely isolated from the modern world. The heat was relentless. The humidity was stifling. And bugs were my constant companions. On the plus side, I got a nice all over tan.
“My parents where in the Amazon to study an isolated tribe and to learn their customs. They decided we should live among them and as they did. So I got to eat grubs and termites and go naked like the natives.”
She pulled at the collar of her shirt and said, “It’s nice to be back in the USA, but it will take me some time to get use to wearing clothes. They feel funny and are so confining. I found a soft pair of panties I could tolerate, but I couldn’t make myself wear a bra.”
Raquel was simply dressed. She had on a soft cotton shirt and a pair of blue jeans. She obvious was not wearing a bra. Her high-beams were on and her pointy nipples dented the shirt. The guys had already noticed, but they took a second look to confirm it anyway.
The newcomers looked over Malcolm and Winnie. They saw a pair of tall, awkward, thin people. They each had bad haircuts and unbecoming clothes. They obviously had no sense of fashion. Winnie wore no make-up and from the looks of the tangle mass of black hair on her head, one doubted she ever combed it. The adjectives, nerd and dorky, came to mind when anyone saw these siblings.
Dinner was more fun than anyone would have expected under the circumstances. The wine flowed freely. Raquel dominated the table by force of personality. She told stories of her time in the rain forest. After the dinner party broke up, everyone went their own way.
Malcolm went for walk in the garden and then found himself in his father’s office. He sat at the desk and looked out the window. He said, “Dad, this room is so you. Your books, your precious filing cabinets . . .”
“Hello. I guess you didn’t see me,” Raquel said in a soft voice from the other side of the room. She hated to intrude on Malcolm’s reminiscence of his dad. “I’ll just grab a book and go.”
Malcolm was startled to discover that he wasn’t alone, but he was pleased when he learned it was Raquel. He said, “No please stay. I could use a friend.”
“Okay.” Raquel walked over to him.
He asked, “What do you enjoy reading?”
“Like you, I enjoy mysteries. They’re a pleasant change from school text books.”
Malcolm got up and went to a section of the bookcase. “Here are my favorites. Books by Agatha Christy and stories about Sherlock Holmes and the Hardy Boys. Winnie’s Nancy Drew books are here too.”
Malcolm pulled a book off the shelf and smiled. He teased her and said, “This is one of the original Hardy Boys novels. Not the revised crap put out in the 1950’s and 60’s where Frank and Joe were presented as more affluent and respectful of the law. In this one from 1927, they are not agents of the adult ruling class.”
She liked his smiled. She also had a thing for tall guys. She judged him to be six feet 5 inches tall, fourteen inches taller than she was. She returned the smile and walked over to him. He could see her unrestrained breasts rolling and bouncing under her thin cotton top as she moved. She knew he was looking at her tits. He knew she knew and he boldly did it anyway.
She reached for the book. Their hands touched. She let her fingers with their pink painted nails, linger on his digits longer than necessary. She played along and said, “So in this one they are individuals, non-conformist. They haven’t sold out their values for wealth or fame.”
“Absolutely not and . . .” He paused for effect and then added, “They solve the mystery.”
She snatched the book, studied the synopsis on the cover and turned quickly on her heels. Her hips swayed seductively as she exited the room. In a flirty tone, she said without turning around,
“Interesting. The protagonist makes a good first impression. He’s tall, smart, funny. But the heroine likes things with depth. Will the initial appeal develop into something significant? Hmmm.”
She left Malcolm standing there wondering what had just happened. After she had exited the room, he said, “I think she likes me.” Malcolm leaned against a filing cabinet and said, “I like her. This chick is mysterious and who doesn’t enjoy a good mystery?”
Eventually he re-focused on the room. The filing cabinet beside him was labeled “Cars”. He opened it. The first file dealt with the last car his father had re-built, the one he crashed. He pulled it out and said out loud,
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