Proof of Purchase: A Jack Grant Mystery (The Jack Grant Mysteries)

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One minute Lenny adored the guy, and the next he hated him. Freddie watched me, waiting for me to make a move.

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Pushing me away, Freddie flopped down on the bed and, lifting his hips, slid off his gym shorts. His dick was semi-hard in anticipation and belonged on a much bigger man. I slipped off my jacket and began to undo the underarm holster holding my 9mm Sig Sauer. I threw my jacket on the floor and joined Freddie on the bed. Taking him into my arms, I kissed him long and deep.

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There was something sexy about his being completely naked and my having most of my clothes still on. My hard-on rubbed against his, the cotton of my jeans making it all the more exciting. He pulled away from me and looked into my eyes. I thanked him for the compliment by kissing him some more. His hands were in my jeans, working to unbutton them and set my dick free.

Once he got it into the open, he gave an appreciative little growl.

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He jerked me a few times and then rubbed our cocks together. I ran my hands across his chest, pinching his nipples. He reached behind himself, grabbing my dick and rubbing the head along the crack of his ass. His breathing began to come faster, and, somewhat abruptly, he reached around the edge of the mattress and pulled out a small container of Vaseline. Quickly, he lubed up my dick and his pucker hole. I fucked him slowly for a bit, lying there on my side with my pants down around my knees, giving him time to relax into it.

Soon, though, I became impatient and pushed him over until he was face down. I crawled on top of him and slipped my cock back into him. He groaned happily.

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My hands on his hips, I had to splay my legs wide to get a good angle. I thrust into him until the muscles on the insides of my legs began to ache. I pulled my legs closer together and lifted him up with me. His knees were off the bed, his ass practically floating in front of me as I pounded into him.

His moaning began to blend into one long keening sound that reminded me of a siren.

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Then I flipped him over. I wanted to see the look on his face while I screwed him. When he looked up at me, he stopped moaning and grinned. I slid back into him. Taking his cock into my hand, I started to jack him off. Matching each stroke with a thrust. He pushed my hand away.

I wanted to make him come, though, so I fucked him harder and faster. My holstered gun bounced against my ribs. He arched his hips, meeting each thrust. His hard cock bounced on his belly, and then he was coming. I reached out and jerked him a few times to help him along. All the while, I kept fucking him. I pulled out of him and began to jack myself off. I collapsed on top of him. He slipped his arms around me and squeezed me close. This big, burly black guy took pity on me.

After that, all I remember is holding onto a bathroom sink in some apartment while the black guy fucked the living daylights out of me.

I woke up the next morning around eleven. I had no idea where I was. Was he that desperate to display his sexual prowess? Did he want to present himself as some kind of slut?


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Freddie thought for a moment, then smiled. It was time for me to leave, so I got off the bed. My hands and cock were still gooey with Vaseline. With my pants around my ankles, I had to waddle across the hall. When I got halfway to the john, the front door opened and in walked Bobby Martin. Immediately, I remembered him. I never saw him after that. He took a moment to look me up and down. My greasy shirttails, my red, sticky cock hanging out, my hairy knees. He has won the Lambda Award for Gay Mystery three times. He is a member of Mystery Writers of America.

Few, if any, abused this privilege. Technically, she flew standby, and she had to dress as a representative of the airline. She liked dressing nicely and did so for work all the time. She also had no guarantee of first-class privileges but would be bumped up if they could accommodate her.

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She was lucky this time. She boarded the plane in New York, and her first-class seat was waiting for her on the trip to Antwerp, Belgium. She leaned back in the luxurious seat and enjoyed the ride, oblivious of the fact that she probably knew the pilot and trying not to think of the things that could happen to a plane, as they had to her beloved wife. Instead, she tried to enjoy the flight: reading the magazines the airline provided, savoring the excellent meal that Into the Air was known for, and meeting her fellow passengers. She chatted easily about her career as a decorator and enjoyed herself immensely.

A taxi whisked her from the airport to her hotel, and she checked in, enjoying the well-appointed surroundings and the old-world charm. After taking a small nap, Jess felt rested and went out to explore the city. She found some of the jewelry stores that catered to tourists and went looking for a bargain, not only in jewelry but also in the diamonds that Antwerp was known for.

She smiled as she looked at the expensive displays. She enjoyed herself as she wandered around, getting lost half a dozen times as she explored. She finally called a taxi to take her back to her hotel, realizing too late that she was a mere block away. It was amusing, and she tipped the taxi driver for their discretion. The next day, Jess took a taxi to the address on the paperwork and arrived at a rather imposing, old building made of large blocks of cut stone, its grey coloring mirroring the sky above.