A Private Eye Full
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Category: Erotica/Multicultural-Interracial Erotica
Description: Mike was a Private Investigator on a case. The husband he was watching was dormant, but others in the block were active - including a big, balck dude called Hammer. When Hammer got shot, Mike happened upon an attache case he once owned - full of lists of white women who'd do anything for black clients. And that was how Mike got to become a pimp and how, in the space of a short while he sampled the various women and fixed them up with clients, just before Hammer's brother appeared on the scene - and then the word gangbang took on a whole new meaning.
eBook Publisher: Fiction4All/Black Stud,
eBookwise Release Date: April 2012
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [89 KB]
Reading time: 55-78 min.
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I was watching an apartment complex. That's what I was being paid to do, I'm a private investigator. My mission was to record the coming and going of an estranged man whose wife believed he was up to no good. I had been watching the apartments off and on for two weeks and had come to know who belonged and who didn't. Up to this point the subject of my surveillance came home from work, went in to his apartment, and stayed there until he left for work the following morning. From what I could tell he was behaving himself. In fact he was boring as hell.
The woman in the apartment above him was a hot to trot blonde and she was rowdy enough for several people, but no one was paying me to keep up with Blondie, which I considered a shame.
I had noticed that the apartment at the far end of the two story strip was occupied by a large impressive black man. I also noticed that the big black man didn't lack company and like the blonde he seemed to be a social creature. Both the blonde and the black were active, but my subject was about as active as a turnip.
I had reported to my client that there didn't appear to be any hanky-panky, but she insisted that I continue on. She was paying so I was staying. I was hoping that I didn't die from sheer boredom.
I knew from watching the apartment that the trash collectors would be coming early the next morning so I made plans to come back during the night and collect my clients husband's trash. I recognize that it's not very noble, but as a rule it's very educational. People have this stupid mind set that if they wad it up and toss it, that it's gone for good. Nothing could be further from the truth. Never, never throw anything away that you don't want the world to know. If it has your name or any identifying numbers, such as account numbers, credit card numbers, bank records, best shred or otherwise destroy it before you toss it.
I arrived back at the apartments about three in the morning. My thinking was that everybody should be in bed by that time. I was right about that. The neighborhood was as quite as a tomb, but I had made one slight miscalculation....none of the trash containers were marked. I didn't know which belonged to the subject of my investigation. Like a good scout I was prepared so I bagged all the trash from each of the six large cans.
There were eight apartments, but two were empty, so I had six large trash bags to search.
I decided to wait until later in the morning, at a civilized hour, to check the trash bags. I took a shower and went to bed. I remember smiling as I drifted off to sleep, wondering what the city trash collector would think when they came to six empty containers.
I got up at the crack of noon and was soon hard at work on the trash bags. I quickly identified the first three by mail that had been carelessly thrown away. The fourth container was not from my subject's apartment, but it was, by far, the most interesting. There were two large photo albums and nine video tapes cassettes. A quick examination of the photo albums aroused my interest. The big black man and apparently some of his black male friends, were photographed in all types of action shots with white women. There was a wide variety of action, twosomes, threesomes and group shots. All were of black men and white women. This type activity is one of my things and I have long recognized that I am a voyeur. I guess all investigators and photographers are voyeurs if they'll admit it. I lay the photos and tapes aside and continued what proved to be a fruitless search of the rest of the trash. My subject had thrown nothing incriminating away, but I wasn't too surprised. I had a suspicion that the poor man was just trying to get away from the woman he had married.