Strangers Wearing Makeup: Chapter One [Introductions]

This city is a nightmare, every inch of it's brick and concrete body is trying to kill you. If its not the air, its the people. If its not the people, its the cars. If its not the cars, its the buildings. If its not the buildings...well I think you get it.
And yet, I find myself absolutely in love with this city.

I walk from my house, its my office too, down a few blocks to the local liquor store. I head to the drink coolers, get an orange juice, and wait in line for a dozen minutes. I hand the towel head my juice and ask for some unfiltered cigarettes, the kind that no pronounced correctly. The kind that turn your teeth yellow after two hits, you know the kind I'm talking about, the kind only the homeless can afford. Well, that's the shit I smoke.
I get some matches and head out. I walk a few more blocks to this tiny little Mexican food place, owned by a Korean family. I walk through the back door and take the daughter by the hand. She's just out of high school, a math major at the university, and she's my Tuesday.
I walk her into the women's bathroom and lift her into the sink. I slide her pants off, the all black work pants that so many women wear. She's not wearing any panties, and it turns me on. I feel her fingers picking at my zipper, then I hear the zip and feel that rush of fresh air that my penis so lovingly enjoys. I take both of my hands and scoop them into the sink, grabbing her lower back. I lift her into me and we start fucking.
She wraps her legs around me, locking her heels together. She wraps her right arm around my head, holding on to my right ear, her left arm folding around my head, her fingers resting on my forehead. She holds on tight as I push into her, each time more powerful than the last. With each push a tiny little moan escapes her lips, covered in a wet orgasmic breath that tingles the back of my neck. Each push makes the moan a little bit louder.
Then she squeezes me tight with her vagina, and pulls her legs harder. I start to push into her, faster and harder, and soon all I can hear is the pounding of bone against the porcelain sink. She presses her mouth against my left ear and bites me and I can feel the wet from her mouth sliding down my ear.
She moves her right arm from around my head, across my back, and tears the back of my shirt. Her breath is getting faster and louder, and soon the moans start blending together. Then I feel her cum.
All around me, I feel it gush out and pour down the insides of my legs. She loosens her hold on me, and I cum. I cum hard into her, a few good shots, and then I'm weak. I realize that I'm face against the mirror and practically lying on her, but its okay, because we're both out of breath and recovering.
I put my pants on and leave. As I head down the street I light a cigarette.
Only in this town am I so alive. I stop at a Chinese food stand on the side of the road, I grab a to-go box of chow mien and head home.
I open the door and say hello to my woman.
"Hey, Dinah. I'm home." She meows to me. "Hey, did anyone call for me, baby?" I look at the answering machine.
"Three new voice messages. First new message" Then there's a,

BEEP!!!!

"Yeah, Gus this is your father. I'm still trying to get a hold of you-"

"Message skipped. Next message."

"Hello, I'm calling for a Mr. Gustavo Green. My name is Ted Bigsby, I'm calling on behalf of-"

"Message skipped. Next Message."

"Hello, Mr. Green. My name is Allison Anderson, I was referred to you by a Mr. Sean Parker. He told me you were the best P.I. in the city. I'm sure what else to say, um, my number is 555-6661. Thank you."

Hmmmm.
I sat eating chow mien for a while, thinking it over in my head. Should I take the job? I didn't know the woman, but she sounded pretty hot. Maybe some small brunette with a nice rack? But I was referred to her by Sean, a guy I shoot pool with every so often. He's a pushover, some young kid with eyes too big for his stomach. I've had to get him outta plenty of messes. But she did sound hot, and a job's a job.
Fuck it.
I finished my chow mien and replied the tape.
"555-6661." I called the number.

"Hello?" A female voice, the same as the one on my machine said.
"Hello, Mrs. Anderson? This is Gus Green I'm replying to your message." I said.
"Oh, yes. Hello, Mr. Green How are you?" She asked.
"I'm good, but if we can skip the small talk and get to business, we'd both spend less on this call." I said.
"Oh, well I suppose you're right." She said, slightly shocked. "Umm, can you meet me at The Shell Beach Club in an hour?" I looked at the clock, it was only seven thirty-three.
"Sure, I can do that." I told her and hung up.

I hated The Shell Beach Club, I mean sure, everyone can enjoy and respect jazz. But that cross-dressing bar tender, Sandy, never did sit well with me. I was never sure if he was gay or straight, I've heard some guys just like to wear dresses, which disturbs me. Like strangers wearing makeup. The worst part of it all, is Sandy's a gorgeous girl, until she speaks and you find out she's and he. Then you just want to take all those thoughts and burn them. It was settled then, I wouldn't talk to him, and besides, a job's and job.
A job's a job.
And so I got dressed.

-Sir Jestro