The Law Rises to the Occasion Pt. 04

Ağustos 22, 2024 Yazar admin 0

Amateur

Franko had a final, formal meeting with his two support cops, Mitch and Jacob, along with the department’s IT guy. Franko was given a fake purse which contained a miniature wireless microphone which would enable his fellow officers to listen in on his encounters. On the shoulder strap of the purse was a concealed button which, when pressed, would send an emergency “help” signal. Finally, the purse also contained a GPS detector, which would tell Mitch and Jacob exactly where Franko/Jess was if he went for a car ride or long walk.

They discussed how Franko would operate. His MO would be to engage johns in conversation, asking what kind of sex they wanted, and playing along with them. He was never to engage in actual sex. “Jess” would find ways to gracefully withdraw from consummating anything, by saying she suddenly felt ill or saying she wasn’t into that kind of sex.

“So,” said Franko, “I’m going to be the world’s best tease.”

He would carry a small revolver in his purse, should the need arise.

Franko showed the two officers photos of himself as Jess. They were satisfied he could pass, with Jacob saying, “How come you get to do the fun stuff, while we have to sit in a dark van?”

“We’ll see how much fun this is,” Franko shot back. “You want to wear a bra for eight hours a day? Put on fake eyelashes every day?”

“Don’t forget your tampons every month,” added Mitch.

They all laughed.

Franko moved into a second-floor room of the Crown Vista motel in the center of the action on Bellevue Boulevard, lugging two large suitcases along with a makeup kit. He had already spotted two hookers, one near a liquor store and one supposedly walking her dog, in the middle of the day. The neighborhood was seedy, with rundown auto repair places, used clothing stores, storefront churches, bars, corner grocery stores, pawnshops, and dollar stores.

Before taking “Jess” for a dry run, he spent several days reconnoitering the area, eating at greasy spoon or chain restaurants, walking nearby residential neighborhoods, and looking for illicit activities. He had a cop’s eye for such things.

He reserved his most important trips for the nighttime, when streetwalkers came out of the woodwork to ply their trade. In his area, he noted around 15 of them, from young to their 40s. He noted how they dressed and acted, and stealthily observed them talking to johns in their cars. He even conversed with several hookers himself, asking how much they’d charge for a blowjob, hand job, fuck, or sleepover. Because he didn’t approach them in a car, they were leery of him, suspecting he was a voyeur and not a potential customer.

Then it was time for him to stick his toe in the water and become Jess. With Mitch and Jacob, a Thursday night was selected for a dry run. Franko was extremely nervous. He dressed as gerze escort closely as possible to the “loose woman” look that he’d observed, putting on his padded girdle, bra, wig, patterned nylons, earrings, and tight top and short come-hither skirt. He fumbled his makeup the first time around, and had to start completely over again. Finally, looking in the cheap motel’s mirror, he was satisfied. He was fuckable, a wench.

Stepping out of “Jess’s” motel room (the management had been made aware of his mission), Jess turned on the electronics in her purse, and made her way down to the street. She noticed that every motel guest she passed gave her an intent look, and she wasn’t sure if they saw through her, or were making judgements about her — just a sexy broad, or someone soliciting?

On this particular run, she merely walked sidewalks, walking like a woman, checking out the hookers, who checked her out as well. She visited a bar, had a beer, tried to keep her voice in the feminine vocal range, and conversed with a foolish young man who seemed taken by her looks. She. On the way back to the motel, she stopped at a chain burger place, and stood in line with customers to place her order. She could feel their looks as they tried to decipher what strata of society she fit into, and what her level of sexuality was.

By the time she returned to the motel, she’d gained a good deal more confidence in herself. A phone call to the unmarked police van revealed that Mitch and Jacob had listened in and followed her progress with ease. They called it a night and drove away, saying, “Nighty night, Jess. Sleep tight.”

Franko slept the night in a nightie. It was the only article of women’s clothing he himself had bought. He wasn’t even embarrassed buying it, because he knew it was common for men to buy their spouse or partner such a thing. Wearing it to bed felt like the right thing to do.

The next morning Franko woke and watched TV for a while. He went out as a guy and had breakfast at a greasy spoon restaurant, with ham and eggs and coffee, then returned. He figured he’d go out walking again to see the neighborhood as a “civilian” but before he motivated himself for that excursion, he was feeling markedly horny. Horny like a Texas longhorn steer.

He was conscious of his dick seeking adventure, and his nipples needing attention. So in the privacy of his anonymous motel existence, he somewhat guiltily pulled on a pair of panties and fit himself into a sexy bra with breast forms. As Sheila had instructed, his entire body was completely shaven. Then on came the long-hair wig and earrings. Looking in the mirror, he was quite turned on.

Copious drops of clear pre-cum soon appeared on his penis, which he delightedly smoothed around its tip. He lay down, and using some skin lotion giresun escort he’d wisely brought along, he stroked himself to the spurt-spurt-spurt of a rousing climax. Now he could relax more.

After walking and killing time throughout a languid day, he went out for another meal, trying to eat halfway healthily but finding it difficult in that environment.

Returning, and putting on panties and patterned nylons, he was sorely tempted to beat off again, but disciplined himself to go to work.

After completely transforming himself into Jess, and happy with the result, he checked in with his backups, had good communication, and left for the street with his large purse. This time, he/she walked a little more provocatively, enjoying the feeling of having a woman’s tits, hips and long hair. The sun had just set on a warm, humid summer day, and hookers were showing up, being dropped off by pimps, or on their own.

As the women strolled their turf, or stationed themselves at strategic spots, Jess walked by, looking for a spot she could call her own. One tall, black streetwalker asked her, “Darling, who the hell are you? What you doin? You stay oughta my way, girl.”

Jess smiled and kept walking.

Guys were getting off work. It was Friday, and many had just cashed their paychecks. Some would be single and wanting a good time and some were looking for a quickie before going home to wives and families. And somewhere out there, one or two would be rapists or even a killer. Jess’ snubnose Smith and Wesson.357 magnum revolver in her bag gave her a high level of confidence she could handle anything.

Halfway down a block, while passing Ernie’s Liquor House, a voice from a darkened car beckoned her over. The voice came from a lanky black man in a silver and yellow jogging suit: “Hey, girl, what your name? You new on the street?”

Jess summoned up her best Jess voice: “Hi. Yeah, new here.”

“You got a pretty deep voice, girl. You sure you got a cunt between yo legs?”

“Well, you’re never going to find out, are you?”

The man laughed heartily, and turned to his companion deeper into the darkened car. “You hear that. This girl’s got some spunk. Punk spunk! Listen, listen good. Workin’ girl on these streets; it’s dangerous. You know about girls gettin’ messed up, even gettin’ killed ’round here?”

Jess played ignorant.

“Just tellin’ ya. Me, I’m here to protect my girl. I keep an eye on her and make sure she safe. I can do that for you too. You think about it. White girl, black guy, it’s OK. I’ll protect you. Even give you a place to stay.”

“Hey, I’ll keep that in mind. What’s your name?”

“They call me Half and Half. That’s cuz I do some music on the side.”

Jess created her best dazzling smile and thanked H&H for his concerns. As she walked girne escort away she observed what must’ve been H&H’s “girl” — black and young, wearing pants so tight one might’ve spotted a quarter inside her pocket — and the shape of her camel’s toe was clearly evident. The girl looked Jess over, too, and showed displeasure for talking with her pimp.

Finally, Jess found a spot, in front of a palm reader’s shop (closed for the day) — where she sat on a bus stop bench. She crossed her legs and impatiently bobbed one high-heeled foot up and down as she looked up and down the street. When a bus approached, she waved it off.

Just as she was giving up on any action, a gleaming black Infinity pulled alongside and the passenger-side window smoothly receded. A white man apparently in his 50s and a bit on the puffy side, said, “Hi there. You available? Come on over.”

Jess obliged, and walked over, in no particular hurry, and leaned into the window opening. She was acutely aware of her presentation: tits healthily pushing against a light top, lips painted a provocative red, dangling hoop earrings, and long brown hair cascading down past her shoulders.

“Hi,” she said.

“You working tonight? Never seen you hereabouts before.”

“New here,” Jess smiled. “Yeah, I’m available. You like the young ones?”

The man seemed pleased. “Sure do. You got nice tits, baby. I’m a tits man.”

“So, Mr. Infiniti, what’r you cruising for? What you looking for?” With that, Jess glanced up and down the street as though being wary of cops cruising by.

The man smiled, then reached down and undid his zipper, revealing a fifty-dollar bill underneath.

“Ah,” said Jess, “no question at all — not the subtle type are you? Deep throat.”

“Oh, yes,” said Mr. Infinity. “Nothing like a royal BJ.”

“Well, then, where should we get some lipstick on your royal prick?”

“We can drive to my favorite spot. Private, safe.”

They began to negotiate a price. Jess said the fifty dollars was merely what guys often tipped her after an act. She then asked for such a high price that Mr. Infinity eventually gave up, frustrated, and roared off, looking for his next possibility.

Jess let out a sigh of relief, then laughed. So this was how the street worked. Fifty dollars over a guy’s cock!

With that, she returned to her motel. There, her backups indicated they heard everything and complimented her/him on his first encounters.

“You’re learning fast, girl,” said Jacob. “One thing, you usually don’t find guys down here looking for sex driving an Infinity. Otherwise, he seemed harmless enough. Average john.”

Franko was glad to return to his male voice. “Kind of fun, jousting with these guys. See ya tomorrow, boys.”

As Franko got into bed, after showering and removing makeup, and putting on his nightie, he lay there gradually relaxing.

The oddest thought got into his head: What was it like to give another man a blow job, when you’re dressed as a woman and filling that role? He had never given this a thought before. Of course he would never do that, would he?

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