Guest number 1 picked up plate number 2 with pasta and walked over to Heather, who frantically tried to move away. It was pointless and he slowly pour...d the pasta and tomato sauce over her head. She looked like a droopy cat, covered with pasta over her face, not being able to move it and the sauce dripping over her body. Unlike the others, she was not taking it sitting down. She started cursing like a sailor as the guest walked away. The guest’s third plate had a banana and he walked up to. She looked down at herself and started to close her legs, then opened them farther.“Does that mean you want to fuck me?”“Um ... It means my body has prepared for sexual intercourse. It doesn’t mean my head has agreed.”“I’d do it. If it wasn’t for Paula.” She flopped down on the bed beside me then rolled to hug me. “It was nice to be held last night. Thank you.” My head had finally gotten the message to my cock that it was not needed and it started to deflate. Nicki seemed no longer interested.. It definitely does. I admit that my appearance and ... obnoxiousness has turned off a few clients. But I generally pose as a bum on the job, and wearing cheap clothes, smelling, and looking unkempt goes very well with that cover.Naturally, I love the excitement of my job. I love the hard work, the gunfights, the thrill of solving a murder, of getting a crook behind bars. I solve difficult cases the police are too incompetent to handle. I get all the damsels in distress; I right the wrongs of. It runs in my family. See, everyone I'm related to is built like a biker. We're all chunky, but under that bit'o'flab is pure muscle. The guy who grabbed my mother's arm on Black Friday wasn't expecting that. I'm getting off track already, I apologize...Right, details. I have brown hair and grey eyes. My lookers are probably my best feature. I've never really liked anything else body-wise, so they're kinda the only thing I like besides one OTHER thing...Anyway, on with this story...A while.