My Sexy Futa Private Investigator

Sneak Peek

The rules of the world were simple in Jordan Hall’s eyes.

Everyone was a liar, a crook, a cheater, and a scum bag. Jordan couldn’t really blame them. At the end of the day, no matter how charitable or selfless someone was they always had their own motives and agendas. If someone was too nice they got screwed over. And if someone did what they believed was the right thing, they especially got screwed over…

And ended up getting arrested for something they didn't do.

Yes, she was the person.

Jordan Hall was forced to do time for a crime she didn’t commit, while her good for nothing rich father (who actually did do it) forgot who she was just to save his own ass. So yes, she had trust issues. And no, she didn’t care who knew it and sincerely hoped the "fuck you" and "not today" were now in bold font on her forehead.

Her father was a business man. A good one she supposed, if being a cheap and manipulative bastard was apart of the job description. But as a fresh faced eighteen year old who just wanted to make her daddy happy and take over the kingdom one day, she’d trusted him implicitly.

The gig was art. She helped her old man sell artwork and meet artists, and even created her own art, but she had no idea he was raising the bids for said artwork by using fake names and signing paperwork to make it seem legit. At some point, he must have gotten lazy, or had a falling out with his source who made all of the fake papers he needed, because he came to Jordan one day asking her to sign.

She regretted signing those papers for ten years while she rotted away in prison.

Jordan’s father said she acted alone and that she’d known exactly what she was doing. He even went as far as telling the judge that it wasn't the first time she’d pulled a scam like that.

Since she couldn't afford a good lawyer (because dear old dad took all of the money she’d ever earned while the rest was confiscated) Jordan was stuck with her very own public defense attorney. The poor thing barely even made it to the court hearing on time.

Needless to say, she didn’t win.

Prison was nothing like the movies or tv shows portrayed. Everyone, for the most part, minded their own business. Did they test her? Yeah. Especially when it was discovered she was a futa. Jordan supposed the only reason she’d managed to escape men’s prison was because of the problems it would cause since she was definitely all woman, minus that one hard fact.

The beautiful brunette quickly assimilated and drew lines in the sand for anyone who got any ideas, so she was respected. She minded her own business, save for the occasional hookups with inmates, a couple prison guards, the church chaplain, and even the warden a time or two. It didn’t hurt that she gained a muscled and toned body from the daily weights, fight training, and running she did to keep sane.

Her looks, body, dick, and easy going attitude made her a fast favorite and she soon had her fair share of special treatment.

So, maybe prison wasn't the worst thing to happen to her, minus the years of her life that were taken away.

Ten long years. But she came out of prison a whole new person. Jaded, rugged, and with a new view of the world. It wasn’t easy to find a job, but she made do.

It all started one night at a bar, as most things usually do.

Jordan was full of whiskey and her cock was hard. Honestly, she was just looking for a fuck before turning in for the night, but instead a woman named Claire sat next to her crying. Crying wasn’t exactly conducive to a boner, so Jordan settled for listening.

It turned out, maybe she still a little of that kindness left after all.

Claire told her how her husband had grown distant. All of the late nights, not answering phone calls and texts, and the smell of perfume on his clothing. She wanted a divorce, but there was no way she could prove it, and without proof she could lose everything in the process. Jordan wasn’t sure what came over her, but she informed the poor thing that she’d get to the bottom of it.

Maybe it was the need for justice, or closure that she herself couldn’t get from the scumbag man in her own life. Or, maybe she was just bored.

But she scouted him like it was an episode of Cheaters for about a week before she snuck into the hospital he worked.

Her efforts proved fruitful, because the asshole was in the middle of fucking some nurse in one of the on call rooms. She snapped a few photos, and may or may not have stolen their scrubs.

Oh, how she wished she could have stuck around to see them try and sneak out as naked as the day they were born.

Claire was as heartbroken as she was relieved. Jordan didn't ask for compensation, but the soon to be divorcee flung herself at the brunette, and gave her $500. Jordan wasn't entirely sure if Claire was paying for the photos or her body, but either way she didn't mind.

Good to know she wasn't a cheap fuck, and she made sure that Claire had the time of her life in every position that they could manage in twenty-four hours.

And that was how her career as a bounty hunter and private investigator began.

She got to put away those so called "good" people with hidden motives and secret lives, and it was like she’d found her calling in life.

And also how she found herself in bed with a jewel thief, but we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves.

On the day her real adventure began, Jordan Hall was bored out of her mind, and aching for something new. In more ways than one. She was horny as hell, and desperate for release. But if she couldn't bury herself as deeply as possible into a gorgeous woman? Well goddamnit, she'd settle for a new case.

One that didn't involve cheating spouses and who stole grandma's money.

Jordan rested her head back against her desk chair and rubbed her swollen bulge through her jeans. The futa had been rock hard since the moment she woke up and decided if she stroked one out she'd be good to go. Clearly, she was mistaken. Her eyes closed as she contemplated succumbing to fantasy and once again pleasuring herself.

Then her office door burst open and quickly she jerked her hand away, assuming an innocent expression.

“Hey Jordan, I’ve got a guy outside that looks like good money,” her partner Kenneth said as he poked his head into her office.

Kenneth was a curly haired, big brown eyed pretty boy that had been just as down on his luck as Jordan had once been when she found him. He learned quickly and as sweet as he was, he was a bear when it came to taking down marks. Jordan could handle her own, but she preferred to keep her hands as clean as possible and stuck to the stealth side of things. And thankfully, he also pretended not to notice if her hands weren't visible.

The brunette lifted boot clad feet to rest them on her desk. She flashed a dimpled smile, and her sea green eyes twinkled as she arched a brow and bit into a donut.

“They usually do. What’s this one want? Catch his wife banging the pool boy?” She made a face and her words were muffled as she chewed. “Come on, Kenny dude, give me something fresh.”

Kenneth grinned, “Not quite. Trust me, boss. It’s real fresh.”

“You better not be full of shit. Let him in and bring me a coffee.”

Kenneth grinned and disappeared.

“Black, like my soul!” Jordan called loudly after him and dusted the crumbs of the donuts off of her shirt before lowering her legs just in time for the money man to arrive.

He was a handsome older man, pushing late forties with a silver fox grace, but honestly if his wife was cheating it was no surprise. He had distinguished sleaze written all over him and he’d probably cheated on her first. Jordan wasn’t one to judge, but being observant was second nature at this point and she was rarely wrong.

“Miss Hall, thank you for seeing me. I’m Henry Alexander Zapdos, I’ve heard quite a bit about your skills and I’ll be frank. I’d like to make use of them.”

Oh, stuffy handsome man had airs too. Even his name sounded douchey. Okay. Jordan could play that game. She rose and took his proffered hand, delighting in the glaze she left on his fingertips that he dusted off on a handkerchief.

“Mr. Zapdos. It’s a pleasure to meet you, though if you’re here it’s probably not under the best circumstances. What’s going on with your wife?”

He settled, seeming to dismiss the slight, and held her unwavering gaze.

“I believe my wife is a jewel thief.”

Jordan choked on the donut she’d continued eating and blinked at him. Okay, she hadn’t been expecting that. Definitely not the same old cheating bit.

Kenneth returned with her coffee and set it in front of her before moving quietly into a corner to watch and listen.

“I’m sorry, did you say you think your wife is a jewel thief?”

“Yes. You heard me correctly. Specifically,” Mr. Zapdos withdrew several newspaper clippings from the pocket of his stylish blazer and slid them across the desk to her. “The one mentioned in the news.”

Jordan blinked again, but took the clippings, though she was well aware of the news stories. She’d followed them in fascination. Jewel thieves were practically myths these days when it was so much easier to steal digital currency, or hack into government data and ransom it to the highest bidder. It was almost antique, in fact, and yet that made it all the better.

Some speculated the thief was a man. He’d robbed several royal jewelry exhibits around the world, Tiffany’s vaults, Cartier, and the jewelry scene was officially quaking in their boots. Jordan, however, had always imagined it was a woman.

In fact, her favorite movie involved a jewel thief, and no one imagined the innocent little French girl was a cat burglar either.

“And what makes you think that, Mr. Zapdos?” Kenneth urged.

“I don’t think, I know. At the very least she’s somehow aiding the real one.” Henry said. “At the time of each robbery, my wife was there. She went along with me for business trips and such. Other times she went alone for shopping. I believe I’ve even seen a couple of the pieces, though I know a lot of the houses have tried to keep what was stolen a secret.”

“Why not go to the police?” Jordan asked.

“I have. They laughed it off. And the better they did. I’ve a reputation to uphold, and if word of this ever got out, I could lose several valuable clients. So, if it is true I merely want to know so I can handle the matter as discretely as possible.”

Ah, so he wanted to save his own ass. Of course. Typical.

Jordan resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but she was definitely intrigued. Still, she allowed an extended silence just to make him sweat.

“I’m not cheap.” Jordan said.

“And I’m not poor. I’m willing to pay you whatever price you name to find the truth. Preferably as soon as possible.””

Well la di freaking da.

***

Jordan began her reconnaissance on Mrs. Barbara Zapdos. Now, initially with a name like that, Jordan had expected either a sixty year old or some cat haired cardigan wearing lady. Ridiculous things to imagine, considering neither would be likely to scale roofs and steal jewelry.

And the photograph provided by her husband proved exactly that.

Jordan almost dropped her coffee when she saw the hourglass figure hugged in pale blue cashmere of a blonde she could only describe as inhumanely beautiful. Her lips were so plush all Jordan could imagine were how amazing they’d feel wrapped around her cock as it stirred to life in her jeans. She could barely focus on anything the husband and fantasies of discovering everything that made Barbara Zapdos moan sprang to vivid life in her mind.

Fantasies that left her aching with a pulsing erection all day until she arrived home and barely closed the door before closing her eyes to fumble with her jeans. Washboard abs tightened with arousal as she withdrew the rigid evidence that felt like hot iron in her hands. Barbara’s hypnotizing ass, that insane smile, her full breasts that had threatened to spill over the neckline of her dress, everything about her left Jordan’s blood hot and she spat in her own hand to stroke the hard inches of her cock.

Her groan filled the hallway of her apartment as she closed her eyes and it was far too easy to imagine Barbara on her knees in front of her with Jordan’s hands in her hair as her head bobbed and her mouth drove the former convict to insanity.

The lewd sounds of her self pleasure joined the moans and heavy breaths of her pleasure while the fingers of her left dipped down below heavy balls to feel how wet her cunt was. She’d be the first to admit she was glad she was a futa. Admittedly she was far too greedy to ever live without the pleasure of both.

She brought herself to a messy orgasm that left her weak in the knees and cum all over the floor. It also trickled in creamy rivulets down the opposite wall and Jordan allowed herself to come down before she cleaned.

If she thought that was the end of it, she quickly found out she was sorely mistaken.

In person, well as much in person as a camera lens could get her, Barbara’s beauty was much more acute. Jordan had never seen a woman so curvy in all her life. A golden goddess that literally glowed, and shamefully Jordan had never gotten a hard-on so quickly from the mere sight of a woman.

For weeks Jordan tailed Barbara’s every move. She went to the same coffee shop, at the same time every day. Shopped in the same places, met with the same friends, and for the most part was everything a gorgeous trophy wife should be. After awhile, Jordan wondered if she was just watching Barbara simply because it was difficult to stop.

It all came to a head when Barbara left her home one night in a trench coat and an umbrella to shield herself from the falling rain.

Jordan shadowed her at a discrete distance, but apparently this was the night things deviated from the norm.

A group of men cat called the beauty from across the street. Barbara ignored them, her footsteps quickening as she kept her head down, but the group of men were not so easily deterred and meandered across the street towards her.

"Hey gorgeous I wonder what's underneath that coat?"

Oh shit. Jordan found herself in a compromising position. She could just let it play out, or she could interfere and made sure nothing happened to the woman she was beginning to obsess over. Even as she considered the dangers of it, she already knew the option she’d choose.

Well, here went weeks of surveillance, up in smoke.