SAM SLADE IN HOLLYWOOD, Part One
written by:
Old Timer

The hot blonde entered my office, slinging her hips, and I sprang to attention behind my cluttered desk. Call me Sam Slade, private detective to the stars...and to anyone else who had fifty bucks to retain me for a day. Plus expenses, of course.

Fifty bucks was big money in 1946. It rented a furnished apartment for a month (utilities included), bought an excellent suit of clothes, or made a payment on my Hudson convertible. But back to the blonde...

"Put it on the wood, honey," I said to her, and she looked at me as if I was something that had crawled out from under a rock. But we private dicks talked that way, and she might as well get used to it.

She sat on a straight chair near my desk which was cunningly positioned so I could appreciate the scenery when a pretty woman crossed her legs. She did, and I did. Her skirt pulled back from a perfect pair of knees sheathed in nylon. I got a glimpse of a garter clipped to a stocking top, and bare thigh above. I adjusted myself in my swivel chair so my buddy Pete, down below, had plenty of room to stretch out.

"What can I do for you, Miss uh...?" I was thinking of a few things already.

"Betty Culver," she said, showing pearly teeth behind red lips that knew how to smile. I eyeballed her chest, appreciating the perky bulges.

"And?" I smiled back in the stiff-lip style of Humphrey Bogart, who was my idol. Neither of us was handsome, but we both did all right with the babes. Attitude was everything, and I made it a point to copy his.

"I'm an actress," Betty said, not surprising me although I had never heard of her. "I need a detective, I think."

"Now why would an aspiring young starlet like yourself require the services of a dick like me?" I inquired, fondling a forty-five shell that I kept on my desk. "Oh. Cigarette?" I put the bullet down and shook a pack of Camels at her.

"Thanks," she said and leaned forward to take one. This gave me a quick pleasing peek at her titties. As I lit her smoke, I noted that Friend Pete was beginning to enjoy himself down south.

I lit up also, and we started to befoul the air of my messy office.

"In answer to your question," Betty said, pluming smoke, "there's a guy who's following me."

"I'm not surprised." Again I gave her my Bogart grin. "Have you told the police?"

"No. I think the guy works for a studio bigshot. I just want to know who that is."

"Ah! Well, I will be glad to follow you myself, Miss Culver, and when I observe the mysterious fellow, I will switch to following HIM. We will get to the bottom of this." Right then it was Betty Culver's bottom that I really wanted to get to.

"And just what will this cost me, Mister Slade?" she asked with a sweet smile calculated to drive my price down.

The smile didn't work. "Fifty a day," I said firmly, "plus expenses. It will be at least a two-day job, I judge."

"Oh my! I'm only working as an extra, and my rent is due tomorrow..."

"That does pose a problem, but maybe you can suggest a solution," I urged. Pete was rooting me on.

Betty blushed a little. Yes, even Hollywood girls could blush. They were actresses, after all.

"Well, I'm a nice girl, Mister Slade..." She slowly uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, revealing more gorgeous scenery that pleased Pete a lot. "But perhaps..." She left the way open for me to enter.

I picked up the clunky black phone on my desk, pressed a button, and told Daisy in the outer room that I was not to be disturbed. Betty smiled while still blushing some. I stood, not minding that Pete was asserting himself, and I took Betty's hand, leading her to the side of the office where my trusty couch awaited. I put my arms around her, moved in close, and tasted her cherry lips. She didn't recoil, and her lips were warm. Pete definitely wanted to get to know them.

After the kiss ended, Betty backed off, locked her baby blues with my steely gray eyes, and asked, "Now this will cover the full hundred, right?"

The babe knew how to bargain. I was surprised that she was still an extra.

"With oral," I stipulated, because in 1946 some girls thought it was nasty to take a guy's cock in their mouth. Like eighty percent or so nationwide. In Hollywood, the percentage was down to about twenty, so I figured I was on fairly firm ground.

Betty made a little face, just to prove she really was a nice girl, then said, "Okay."

I unzipped my pants, and the pretty blonde knelt on my well-worn carpet. Pete leaped out at her, and we were off to the races, like Santa Anita on a Saturday afternoon. Proving she was no novice, Betty began by licking the crown of my cock all over, and then she took it into her warm wet mouth. She still wore her cute little hat as she began to bob her head up and down on my dong.

I grinned to myself and felt like Louie B. Mayer interviewing a prospective starlet. As the talented extra pumped her mouth on my cock, sucking nicely and taking most of my modest six inches with each lunge, she reached into my pants and brought out my balls. At that point it occurred to me that maybe she wanted to limit her obligation to just this, finishing me off quick and easy, but that wouldn't do. I let her fondle my nutsack for awhile as she pleasured Pete with her stroking lips and lapping tongue, then I gently pushed her away.

"What's the matter, wasn't it good?" the blonde asked, looking up at me with wide eyes.

"Damned right," I said in my best Bogart growl. "But the couch is waiting."

"Ooh, all right..."

"I want to see what's under those cute clothes of yours," I added, and now I was Everyman.

"You mean I have to strip?"

"Every stitch, baby," I insisted, and sank into a chair to watch.

Betty obviously had done this before, and she knew how to strip slowly and seductively, the way men liked it. Hollywood girls learned those tricks. First she set her little pillbox hat aside and reached behind her to unfasten her dress. This required that she arch her back, which pushed her titties farther forward, and they were nice ones! My friend Pete called on me for assistance.

Still projecting from the open fly of my suit pants, my cock was super-stiff, the plum-like head bulging. I wrapped a hand around my rod and began slowly to stroke it while Betty watched.

"That's nasty," she opined and stepped out of her dress.

"Yep," I said, "but I don't give a shit. I enjoy it." I kept pleasuring Pete.

Betty stepped from her half-slip, flexing lovely legs in stockings and garters. She still wore heels, and her underwear consisted of a white bra and peach-pink panties over a white garter belt. What a sexy picture that was! It got even better when she unhooked her Maindenform and took it away. Betty's tits were delectable, jutting forward as if suspended from invisible rubber strings that made them bob as she moved. She had stiff beige nipples centered in neat disks no larger than quarters.

She posed for me without shyness because she knew she was a knockout. Too bad I wasn't a casting director or she would have nailed a movie role on the spot, even though the censors of that day wouldn't have let her appear in her undies. Narrow- minded bastards!

"Turn around, baby," I said, slowly stroking myself.

Betty turned and I ogled her bottom cuddled in her sleek rayon pants, the elastics tucked under her cheeky buttocks. I made a mental note to browse back there.

"Take off your panties, dear," I directed, then added, "SLOWLY strip them down," because she had hooked the top elastic with a thumb and quickly stretched it out. Being an obedient girl, she let the elastic snap back, then used both hands to slowly lower her briefs, as she bent forward in front of me. Her titties hung and swayed like tolling bells. Dear Lord, was there a sweeter sight?

Betty stepped from her pants, let them dangle for a moment from a rigid forefinger, then tossed the peachy-pink puff to me. She was really getting into the spirit of the occasion! So was I as I sniffed her panties while continuing to stroke myself.

"Lie down on the couch, sweet thing," I said, my voice turning husky.

I got up and approached her, my pecker pointing the way. As Betty stretched out on the couch, I knelt beside it. Her nubile form offered a smorgasbord feast, and I hardly knew where to begin. At the top, I decided and kissed her soft lips, licking between them. She made a little sound and writhed just slightly.

I kissed onto her tits, holding them and licking them, and tugging at each rigid nipple. I kept kissing along, tickling her belly button with my tongue. I skipped over the white band of her garter belt and entered her fun zone. To make it fully accessible, I lifted her near leg, liking the way it felt in her nylon stocking. I boosted her leg over my head and hooked it on my far shoulder.

What a sight pretty Betty presented in that pose, with her thighs spread apart. The succulent inner slopes of them were smooth and creamy above the gartered tops of her light-brown stockings. In the V was a lush growth of dark hair because only figure models shaved in those days. I bent and nuzzled Betty's bush, making her exclaim "Oh!" She smelled sweet and a little tangy. I parted the lips of her pussy with my thumbs and sent my tongue on a thrilling journey of exploration.

Pete approved, sticking up hard from my open pants-front and pounding with lust. He would get his chance, but right now my lips and tongue were having their turn, along with my nose and taste buds. I licked up and down the girl's slippery split which was rapidly moistening itself, my saliva helping. She ooo-ed and aah-ed, writhing voluptuously as I tongued her. I began to focus on her clit, licking round and round it, then using my tongue to lash it, which made the little head poke from its hood. I clamped onto the tasty slick nubbin and sucked.

"Oooh!" Betty cried. "Damn it, that's good! I love it! Don't stop!"

I kept sucking Betty's clit and chomping on it, too. She squirmed and slammed her wet cunt against me, smearing pussy-juice all over my mouth and letting enough drain inside so that I had to swallow it. I let go of her clit and poked my tongue into her hot hole.

"Fuck!" nice-girl Betty exclaimed as I did exactly that to her with my tongue.

After a bit, I lifted my head and inserted my stiff middle finger in her quim. I stroked my digit in and out, in and out, as I looked down at Betty's pretty, passion- charged face. She looked like she needed another taste of my cock, so I stood up and partially lifted her. She caught the head of my projecting prick in her mouth and pumped on it, rolling her eyes as she looked up at me, making muffled moans.

"Yes, baby...yesss," I crooned, petting her blond hair. "You're a sweet little cocksucker."

I pulled back, rolled her over on the leather, and knelt to kiss her lush bottom. She liked that. All women like that. They especially like it when you spread their asscheeks apart and lick between them. That's what I did with Betty, and she yelped in pleasure, shaking her buttocks against my face. I raised my head, gave her a slap across both asscheeks, then bent and kissed her again. Finally I was ready to fuck.

I stripped off my clothes as fast as I could while Betty smoldered. I let her stay on her tummy and boosted her ass in the air, kneeling on the sofa behind her. Her bottom was beautiful in the frame of garters tugging ribbed stocking tops. But what I really liked was the hairy bun that peeped at me from between the tops of her thighs. Needless to say, my horny friend Pete was focused on that.

I moved Betty's legs farther apart and pushed down on her back so that her tits and shoulders were pressed against the leather. My thumbs opened her pussy like a ripe peach and I bent to lick it once again, my nose nestling between her billowy satin buttocks. Then I was onto my knees, clutching my cock, and I let Pete charge all the way up the girl's snug, slippery fuckway. The thrill made my eyes roll back.

Pete was in his glory as he stroked in and out, in and out of Betty's warm, bobbing cunt. She knew how to move with a man. Why that babe wasn't up there with Lana Turner and Rita Hayworth, I had no idea. I was sure they couldn't please a producer any better.

I fucked Betty steadily, not slackening once, and going deep with every thrust. I knew she was close to climaxing, and my juice was bubbling in my balls. I smacked her bottom with my front each time I powered into her. I loved that fleshy sound and also the sloshing of my cock in her wet sump. I fucked her hard, growling with lust. Since Pete couldn't talk, I gave voice to his pleasure.

The girl moaned and moved excitedly. I felt her cunt muscles grip my pistoning prick, and I heard her gasp. "Oooh, NOWWWW!" she bellowed, and I gave her a dozen fast, hard strokes that shook her from hips to shoulders. She wailed, jerking as she came, and I knew that a wave of warm pure pleasure was washing over her.

I pulled out, because I wasn't using a rubber. Pete ejaculated in long, looping spurts, and soon there was a pool of creamy cum on Betty's back. Reaching for a tissue from the box I kept next to the sofa, I carefully wiped it off, then helped the girl up. I wiped off my dick, as well, thinking it might be a bit much to ask her to lick it clean for me. She probably would have done it though.

I wasn't sure at that moment whether Betty was just a hot slut, was especially attracted to me, or thought I was a contact she should take extra care to cultivate. In any event, I was going to do a job for her and give it my best. And even though her initial bill was paid, I hoped to fuck her again, perhaps just for fun next time.

Truth was, I had no idea what excitement lay in store for me. Look for a continuation of Sam Slade's adventures, and you will find out...