Farlowe: Hold Me in the Dark

1953. New York City.

--

It was a rainy, wet morning on the day that Ronald Morehouse came to my office. My door was open and I heard my secretary, Edith, ask for his coat so she could hang it up for him. A minute later she was knocking on my open door.

"A man to see you," she said. "Says he has a job for you."

He came into my office, shook my hand and sat across from my desk. He wore a cheap but decent-looking blue suit, had slickened brown hair and a freshly barbered mustache. He had an air of unfriendliness, but often that fades in the first few minutes of a meeting like this. He told me his wife is missing, she's been gone for almost two weeks.

"You went to the police?" I asked.

"Yes. Department of Missing Persons. A waste of time," he said. "They said they have more important cases, mine was down the list. Said it'd be another week, maybe two, before they could do anything at all. I found you in the phone book."

I nodded. He told me about his wife. Handed me a picture of her. Not a professionally done portrait, this a more casual picture, with him in it, a touch blurry, not the best. It was a photograph taken in someone's backyard, Ronald Morehouse dressed in a white shirt with no tie, his wife in a simple summer dress with a modest pearl necklace around her neck. Her hair was a bit tousled, both their facial expressions blank.

"Nice looking woman. Is that part of it?"

"Part of it?" His eyes didn't understand.

"Part of your worry. Rape, maybe. Something like that."

"Nice looking? Sure," he said. "Look, she's not a beauty queen, but she's mine, see? A man's wife is his to mess with, not anybody else's."

I asked him, "Do you suspect fowl play on her part? Adultery, maybe?"

He paused, almost shrugged. "I'd say she's never been the type, but lately... let's just say she's been hiding something. I need to put an end to it. I need you to find her, and we'll put an end to it."

After he left, I called Edith in to my office. "We're hired. Missing woman. His wife."

Edith nodded stiffly, then spoke her mind. "He gives me the creeps."

"Why is that?" I asked.

"His eyes. Some guys don't look at women right."

I nodded. "We'll start in the morning, he gave me a few leads."

"I'll give you one," Edith said. "She ran away from him."

--

It took a week of shoe leather but I finally connected a solid couple of dots. My cab driver connections told me they'd dropped a woman off in an area across town, a woman who looked very much like Doris Morehouse. Two different drivers looked at the picture I showed them and told me, that to the best of their recollection, they had dropped her there, always on a weekend night, this happening about a month ago, before she went missing.

I drove there to have a look around. It's a dead part of town, warehouses and small-time manufacturing, weeds growing in the cracks in the sidewalks, but as I walked a few of the streets I came upon something of interest. A three-story brownstone with freshly watered flowerpots on its front steps, tucked between two stretches of dirty brick nothing.

Just up the street, on the corner, an old-time barroom had a buzzing neon sign above the door. I went inside to see if anyone knew anything about the brownstone and the people who live there.

"The place with the red door? They call it The Raven," the gray-haired bartender said. He wasn't busy, only two other old-timers in the joint, so he had plenty of time to talk to me. "Some sort of private club," he said. "Lotta speculation that it's Devil worship or some such thing, but I had a nice-lookin' couple stop in here one day. They was on their way there. Said they was too early, so they had a drink here. Nice folks. I mentioned the Devil worship thing and they said no, it ain't that kinda place. They was kinda closemouthed about it, but after we got friendlier I got the gist that they was headin' for some real adult kind of fun, if you get my drift. It's always on a Saturday night, except for the two folks that live there. A man and a woman. I seen 'em a few times, but they never stopped in here as far as I know."

I thanked the old man, tossed him a couple bucks and walked out, down the desolate sidewalk toward the brownstone. It was the middle of the day when I knocked on the red door. A woman opened it.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"My name's Farlowe. I'm a private detective. I'm looking for a woman, she's been missing for a couple of weeks. Two cab drivers said they've dropped her off in this neighborhood." I reached into my breast pocket for the photograph Ronald Morehouse had given me. I showed it to her. "Recognize her?"

"That's Doris," she said without thinking. "But... oh... I really shouldn't say anything. No, I can't say anything more."

She began to close the door but I put my foot in the way. "Just another minute of your time please, ma'am. You wouldn't rather talk to the police, would you? If I don't find her the cops will be coming around here, probably with a warrant, looking into your business. None of us want that, do we?"

The woman shook her head, looked unsure of what to do. "She... came here a few times a month or so ago. She was here three, maybe four weeks. Yes, that's it. She hasn't been back. We haven't seen her since then."

"Once a week? Is that the usual?"

"Saturday nights. That's when the club is open. Like I said, she was here three, maybe four times."

"What can you tell me about her? Did she seem to be in her right mind?"

"Her right mind?"

"She's missing. In these situations suicide is always a possibility."

"Suicide! Oh my gosh! No, I wouldn't say she was anything like that. No. I mean, everybody always leaves here happy. This isn't a place to be doleful, it's the opposite of that. If she didn't walk out of here happy each time then I don't know what to tell you."

I nodded. "The Raven is a meeting place? Drinking?"

"Yeah, meeting, drinking, other things. She drank, like the rest of us, maybe too much. But hey, in this city it's nothin' new, right? You take a cab home, you sleep it off. She didn't look any worse for wear the next week."

"Sounds like you knew her quite well."

"Well, I mean, we get to know each other here. That's what it's all about."

"Private club, though, is that right?"

"That's right."

"Adults only?"

"Yes. Very much so." A twinkle shown in her eyes.

"I'd like to join," I said.

"Why, so you can ask everybody a bunch of questions?"

"I'm trying to find a missing woman."

"I know you are, and I'm trying to be helpful, but this is a private club. Unless you and your wife want to join up and... join in... then I'm sorry but I have to turn you away. Believe me, if I made the rules I'd let single men in, especially those like you, and your brother if you have one, and any of your friends that look like you, but as it is now only women can join up single. Men have to join up with their wives. It's always been that way."

"Doris Morehouse joined as a single woman?"

"That's right. If you're going tell me she's married I'll tell you that's none of my business. We don't ask women about their life outside of here."

"How many women join the club on their own?"

"Our single gals? Gee, it varies. I'm one of 'em, if you're interested. I'd be pleased if you'd call me Norma."

"How many other single gals, Norma?" I asked again. Her twinkling eyes had gotten to me and made me crack a smile.

"Right now there's maybe... ten or fifteen on the books. Most only show up only once in a while though. On an average Saturday it's... maybe eight or ten couples, maybe one or two single men whose wives couldn't make it, and maybe two or three single gals."

"Did Doris Morehouse show up once in a while, or was she a regular, here week after week?"

"Doris? She was here regular, week after week, but... just for three or four, like I said. I think it was four. Yeah, a month in a row, I'd say. Some of the guys got to really like her. We all did. She fit in nice. Real nice girl, I'd say. Now that I'm remembering, she started out shy and quiet, but that's not unusual."

"After four weeks she wasn't quiet and shy anymore?"

"After one week, I'd say. Yeah, now that I'm remembering, she came back that second week and wasn't shy no more."

"In what way?"

"Look, mister, you're a nice guy and all, and like I said, if it was up to me I'd sign you up for a membership right now, but like I said, it's a private club. I can't tell you details about nothing more about it."

"Are you here every Saturday, Norma?"

"My sister Ruth and her husband run the place. I take the train over from Jersey. Usually just Saturday nights, I hate to miss one of those. You caught me today lookin' after their sick dog."

"If I wanted to sign up right now, a membership for me and my wife, could you do that for me?"

Norma smirked. "I shouldn't, because I know what you're up to, but... it's awfully hard to turn away a guy that looks like you." She looked me up and down, still smirking. "If you promise not to tell my sister we had this long talk, yeah, I'll give you a membership. A guy that looks like you will bring up the quality of the place, that's for sure. Yeah, I'll sign you up, but you gotta bring your wife. She gonna be okay with that?"

"I'll make sure of it."

Norma smiled. "A man who's in charge. I like that. Got your checkbook with you? They charge twenty-five dollars for a month."

"Cash alright, Norma?"

"Good-lookin', strong-willed, and money in your pocket? I wish more guys like you would knock on this door. What did you say your name is, honey?"

"Farlowe." I pealed twenty-five off my money roll, handed it to her.

"What's your wife's name?" she asked.

"Oh, it's...... Edith."

"Okay, Farlowe. Saturday nights, 10pm. This is the door. I'll make sure they put your name on the list. Will you have a drink with me, Saturday? I'll be walkin' on sunshine all week waitin' for it."

I walked away with an unexpected spring in my step, this Norma woman not exactly a humdinger in the looks department but there was something about her. Not a full-on hussy but a middle-aged minx of some kind. Full in the hips and definitely full in the bust. Bottle-blonde and blue-eyed. Having a drink with her interested me even though there were others I should talk to when I returned. She'd already given me her piece, but maybe she had more to give.

Back at the office, I wondered who to hire to be my 'wife' on Saturday. Edith's name had been the only one to spring to mind when Norma asked me, but Edith wasn't the woman for the job. One or two of my previous secretaries probably would have been game for it, but Edith, even though she's in her mid 20s, the right age to play a wife, is a little too buttoned down to come across as comfortable out in that kind of hedonistic nightlife. I went out to the file cabinet behind Edith's desk and opened a drawer.

"Can I help you find anything?" she asked.

"Prostitutes. Hired girls. What was the name of that one that helped us on the Kennedy case?"

"Should be in the Kennedy file. I'm sure I put her contact information in there. Looking for a date for a wedding?" Edith smirked.

"Something like that. Maybe short notice, though. Saturday night." I pulled the Kennedy file, found the girl's name. "Here it is. Wilma Thurgis. Out on the street she goes by the name Cherrie Creem."

"What's the job?" Edith asked. "Does it have to be someone with the kind of experience she has? I'm not exactly busting with offers for Saturday night. Of course I'd want you to pay me whatever you were gonna pay her. I could use a few extra dollars."

I looked at Edith. "It's not the kind of thing I'd want to drag you into."

"Who's dragging? As long as there's no bullets flying you won't be dragging. Like I said, I could use a few extra dollars."

"It's the Doris Morehouse case."

"I figured," she said. "You on a trail?"

I nodded. "A bloodhound would be howling. It's a private club, maybe the last place Doris Morehouse was before she disappeared. They won't let me talk to anyone unless I'm a member, and men can't join without their wives. Women, on the other hand, can join-up alone, which is why Doris Morehouse was there. Are you getting the drift of the situation? For this kind of a joint, it'd be a better job for a hired girl, don't you think?"

"Not if she's getting the pay and I'm not. Unless you think I'm not 'enough' to turn the eye of the men. That's what this is, right? Some kind of an... adult... social club?"

I nodded. "I haven't had it spelled out to me in so many words yet but yes, I'm quite sure it's VERY adult. Forget your cares at the door. Leave your wedding rings at home. That kind of place."

Edith nodded. "So? Am I enough? Or do you need Cherrie Creem to sweeten the pie?"

I let my gaze drift down her body because her posture and her smirk seemed to be encouraging me to do so. "Dressed right you'd more than enough. But if someone doesn't like us sniffing around they may get perturbed. I can't guarantee no bullets. I never can."

Edith nodded. "We'll stick together? That's good enough for me."

"I was thinking I'd pay a girl ten dollars an hour. The job will probably be just a quick hour, in and out. That enough to ease your mind?"

Edith smiled. "Ten an hour! That's four times my normal pay! You got more of these extra jobs? What's a 'hired girl' make on the street these days, anyway?"

I smirked. "You'd have to ask Cherrie about that. Or better yet, don't."

"Don't worry, I'm not falling into the underworld. Plenty enough excitement around here. So, Saturday night, you want me dressed like a bimbo? My roommate's got some things I can wear."

I nodded. "You'll be pretending to be my wife but... let's just say our morals are... open."

Edith snapped the gum she'd been chewing. "Married but open. Wow. Okay, I can play that. Of course I'll be hanging on your arm at first. I gotta play up the wife thing, right? You being the husband, you'll probably zero right in on the other women, right? Should I be jealous at first or...?"

I shook my head. "No, that's not how these couples operate. If this place is what I think it is, the whole idea is total freedom, the exact opposite of jealousy. They walk in there and they act like hot-blooded teenagers again, then they walk out at the end of the night back to real life. Doris Morehouse, though, maybe she didn't walk out."

--

Saturday night I took a cab to Edith's apartment. I was about to tell the cabbie to wait, but Edith yelled down from an open window that she was running late and that I should come up. She lives in a sixth-floor walk-up so I was none too happy when I knocked on her door. Her roommate opened it and invited me in.

"You must be the mysterious Farlowe. I've heard so much about you."

"Mysterious? Is that what Edith thinks?"

"It's not," Edith yelled from behind the closed door of the nearby bathroom.

"Just mysterious to me," said the roommate. "I've been trying to picture you. Edith's been holding out on me, you're way more handsome than I thought."

"If she described a gruff, trouble-finding son-of-a-bitch, she was about right," I said.

The roommate smiled. "My name's Bernice. Hopefully we won't be strangers. Edie tells me you two are going to one of those private 'adults-only' clubs? An old boyfriend played me a movie reel once that showed one of those places. It was so raunchy, I sorta wish I could watch it again."

She snapped her gum just then, not unlike the way Edith does at the office sometimes. I nodded at her. "It's all work tonight. We'll have a drink, talk to some people," I said.

Bernice nodded, a twinkle in her eyes. "What kind of stuff do those kind of people talk about?" She snapped her gum again.

"Edith, you almost ready?" I said louder.

"Just a few minutes," she yelled from the bathroom.

"She's making herself irresistible," Bernice said, then snapped her gum again. "Now that I've seen you I don't know if she's doing it for them or for you. She tell you I asked if I could go along?"

"No, she didn't. Wouldn't work, we're playing it as husband and wife."

Bernice smiled, coy. "I'm just sayin', I'm game. Guy like you, couple gals like us... maybe we can... play it that way sometime."

Looking around, it was clear that the tiny apartment had only a table and two chairs and one bed, a lumpy-looking double with rumpled sheets and two side-by-side pillows. Women's clothing was hanging on open racks, with more neatly folded on cheap-looking shelves. Even their underwear was out in the open, lacy pieces that looked soft to the touch. The place smelled of cosmetics and lavender-scented soap. My instincts wanted to ask Bernice what she meant by 'a couple gals like us', but Edith stepped out of the bathroom just then. She looked like a brand new woman, her dress skin-tight and slinky, the hair she wears in a bun at the office now brushed out long and wavy, her face made-up like a perfect late-night temptress.

"That's just the look in your eyes she was hoping for," Bernice said to me, smiling. She snapped her gum again.

"I'm ready," Edith said.

"Ready for anything, maybe," Bernice said.

Edith giggled. I'd heard her laugh before, but never her giggle.

Out on the street, I tried to hail a cab. "You've known Bernice a while?"

"We grew up together. Escaped Toledo together. Neither of us thought living so... small... together would work, but we've learned to enjoy it. You know how expensive apartments are."

"It's a tough city for single people," I said.

"Farlowe, should we talk about our... banter? We're supposed to be married. Where do we live?"

"Right here will do. We both know this address."

She nodded. "What about... the rest of it?" she asked. "How are we playing this? What's out of line? This is work tonight, you're paying me, so, I want to play it the way you want it played."

"I wish I could tell you," I said. "When we walk in there it could be anything. You ready for an eyeful? I would have asked you about your tolerance for that, but one of the reasons I agreed to you going is because you don't seem fazed by all the seedy things you hear about at the office. You're more modern than some women."

Edith smiled. "I'm glad you think so. Let's be modern together. Let's play it... real. That work for you?"

"There's real, and then there's real," I said.

"The second one," she said, then snapped her gum. "I haven't been real in quite a while."

"Sound's like you're the right woman for the job," I said as a cab stopped for us. "Maybe Cherrie Creem is sitting home alone tonight."

Edith smiled. I opened the cab's door for her and watched her legs show more of themselves as she shimmied onto the seat, sliding herself all the way across so I could get in.

Not far across town, I paid the cabbie, and Edith and I entered the club. The woman at the door wasn't Norma, but she smiled when I said my name. She led us to the action. I'd been correct in warning Edith that she might get an eyeful -- there were several nude women, several more in lingerie underwear, and there were couplings ranging from kissing, to fondling, to outright cocksucking.

"Get yourselves a drink at the bar if you'd like. Have fun you two," the woman said, then she went back around the corner to her station at the front door again.

"Our new couple!" said a woman, not nude but topless, smiling as she approached us. "I'm so pleased you're here!" Her big breasts were fully aroused, her curvaceous hips clad in lacy lingerie underpants, her feet elevated on spiky high heels. "It's such a pleasure to meet you, Farlowe. My name's Ruth, my husband and I are your hosts for the night. And you must be Edith," she said, extending a hand as if she wanted it to be kissed. Edith took it and gently shook it. A twinkle shown in Ruth's eyes. "We're all so delighted to meet you and your handsome husband. He nearly swept my sister off her feet the other day. It's not every day a man that looks like him knocks at our door."

"He... has that effect on women," Edith said, glancing at me bashfully.

"But you, my dear, goodness, he has good taste in women," Ruth said, eyeing all of Edith. "My husband will positively adore you. So, you two, are you ready for some fun? Edith, when you're ready to get more comfortable I can help you. We have hangers for your dress, and a drawer for the rest of it, as much or as little as you'd like to take off. Farlowe, the men generally just fend for themselves, hanging their jackets, pants and other things on those coat racks over there. I hope I'm not rushing you, but... goodness I am excited tonight. New members are always a thrill."

My take on Edith's reaction to all this was that she was surprised, embarrassed, or both. We hadn't discussed it in advance but I'm sure she knew that undressing wasn't a part of her job tonight. Ruth's frank talk of it was certainly embarrassing her, though. I didn't stare at her blushing face for long, didn't want to make it worse. All I could do was hope that she'd somehow be able control her emotions and make everyone believe we're husband and wife. This wasn't exactly a normal day at work for her.

A few minutes later, with a martini in my hand and a manhattan in Edith's, we stood quietly by the bar. Ruth had left us, her scantily clad behind nicely wiggling when she'd walked away.

After a big sip of her manhattan, Edith smirked at me. "You weren't kidding about the eyeful. Her sister, the one you talked to the other day, she have a body like that?"

"Similar," I said.

"Busty."

"Yes," I said.

Edith stifled a smile. "It's a cozy room. I expected more privacy. Think there is any?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. Your roommate mentioned a movie she'd seen. I've seen one, too. You ever see one?"

Edith shook her head. "Explain it to me."

"Orgy," I said. "Familiar with the term?"

Edith smirked. "I am. Only in the dictionary sense. Not 'real world' familiarity. This place the real thing, you think?"

"Appears that way," I said. "That alcove with all those pushed-together mattresses on the floor. That kind of thing is more than you'll want to see. With some luck we won't be here long, but if you want out now, or soon, I'll get you out. Just say the word, at any point."

Edith slightly nodded, her glances at a cock being sucked making me wonder if her thoughts were overwhelmed and she didn't hear me. "Doris Morehouse was here, on her own?" she asked.

"Four times," I answered.

Edith nodded with a bit more conviction. "Let's try and get some answers. You questioning the women? Want me to talk to the men?"

I nodded. "Keep it light. Don't sound like a detective. That's rule number one."

Edith thought about it for a moment. "I can say she's a friend of mine, that she told us about this place, that I'm disappointed that she's not here tonight."

"Good," I said. "That'll work. Don't press too hard. Come to me if you get an instinct about someone. Don't forget, Ruth's sister knows what we're up to, but I don't see her here yet. If she shows up I'll point her out to you."

Edith took another big sip, her third or fourth, her drink now gone. I downed mine to catch up with her, caught the bartender's eye, asked for two more. I scanned the patrons again as I waited, a gaggle of still-dressed women now departing, going to another room, Ruth leading them.

"Where are they going?" Edith asked me.

I wasn't sure. "A dressing room, maybe? Ruth mentioned helping, and hangers, and drawers for clothes. Must be in that other room. That's my guess."

Edith's face reddened again. "I'm glad I downed that drink so quickly. This is it, then. Wish me luck."

Edith scurried away as if she needed to move quickly, her nervousness making it that way. She'd left me before I got a word out, before I could assure her that undressing wasn't a part of her job tonight.

Watching Edith scurry away in her skin-tight dress led my eyes to the already nude women, and those in their lingerie. Each of them had eyed me at least once or twice since we'd arrived. One of them, statuesque, beautiful, and fully nude, was headed my way.

"What's your name, honey? I'm Betty."

"Name's Farlowe. My wife and I are just getting a feel for the place. She's friends with a woman who enjoys it here, so we thought we'd stop in and see what it's like."

"Who's your wife's friend?"

"Doris Morehouse."

"Oh, I know Doris! We love Doris. Haven't seen her in a while."

"My wife, Edith, was hoping Doris would be here tonight. A little friendly hand-holding to help with her nerves."

Betty softly smiled. "I get it. Maybe I can help. Will Edith be joining us?"

"Not sure," I said. "I told her to play it however makes her most comfortable."

Betty nodded, a certain something showing in her eyes that I hadn't figured out yet.

"Been coming here long, Betty?"

"Long enough to know a good-looking man when I see one. Kiss me, Farlowe?"

It seemed wise to keep things conversational, maybe offer her Edith's fresh drink that was sitting on the bar, but I thought Edith might need it. Betty wasn't interested in me pausing to think, she just leaned in and kissed me, her hand boldly fondling my crotch, this kiss more powerful than I'd expected.

"Wow," she said. "I have a good feeling about tonight."

Over her shoulder I saw a parade of nude and near nude women entering from the dressing room, rejoining this simmering party, all of them smiling, giggling, laughing. Edith, nude but for her silken pantie-style underpants, was the last of them, her smile bashful, the blushing redness of her face visible even at a distance. A man quickly joined her, blocking my view of her surprisingly plump and perky breasts.

Betty saw me looking at her, her view of Edith a little clearer. "Oh, she's a doll. How long have you two been married?"

"A while."

"That why you're blushing? First time seeing her with... another man?"

I knew my face was warm but red I didn't expect.

"That her drink?" Betty asked. "Let's invite them over. Harvey's a good egg, she picked a good one for her first time. Harvey! " Betty yelled. "Let's all have a drink."

Harvey got the gist, his hand on Edith's back as he guided her toward me, her face seemingly redder and redder as her bare legs and bare feet carried her entrancing toplessness nervously near.

"Hi, Edith, I'm Betty," Betty said. "Harvey, this is Edith's husband, Farlowe."

"A pleasure, old boy," Harvey said, reaching his hand toward me. "First time at The Raven?"

"Yes," I said as I shook his hand. "I was telling Betty, my wife Edith is friends with a member here. Maybe you know her. Doris is her name. Doris Morehouse."

"Yes, yes, Edith mentioned her. Doris is a fun girl. One of my favorites. It's disappointing she hasn't joined us lately. Oh, say, you don't think it has anything to do with that husband of hers, does it? Cranky old chap from what she told me. Doesn't treat her well."

I picked up my drink. "The other day, when I stopped by to join this club, Ruth's sister Norma told me that the women who come here on their own don't mention much about their home life."

Harvey nodded. "That's generally true, but Doris was different. She talked about it."

Betty smiled at Harvey. "That's because you're such sweetheart, Harvey. I'm guessing all us girls tell you too much." Her gaze turned to Edith. "Harvey's just a big old comfortable teddy bear, one who looks great out of his clothes and can fuck all night long. Any unhappily married girl would love to snuggle up to him and be honest with him, I'm sure. You two, though, you and Farlowe, I'm not sensing unhappiness. On the contrary, you both still have eyes for each other. It's nice to see. Farlowe says you've been married a while?"

"Oh, yes," Edith said. "This, tonight, though... this is all new for us."

"He's a good kisser," Betty said. "I hope you don't mind that I sampled him already."

"No, it's... quite alright," Edith said.

Her unblinking eyes watched with keen interest as Betty's hand took a fondling feel of my crotch again. It was different this time because of Edith's closeness. There were nude women all around, Betty's full nudity front and center, but it was Edith's topless near-nudity that was affecting me. All done up with night makeup and flowing hair, her appearance tonight, even before she'd undressed, was so different than her office persona. This Edith was all new, one might even say a party girl in appearance, though her still blushing demeanor at this very moment was giving her an air of adorability. To say it surprised me is an understatement.

"Oooo! You're a BIG boy!" Betty said, her crotch-fondling hand now full of my growing lump.

Edith spoke up, somewhat shyly, trying hard, I could tell, to get her mind on our job. "I'm... a little worried about what you said, Harvey, about Doris. She never told me about her husband being unpleasant. Should I be worried? I haven't talked to her in a while, and she's not here, so... I'm becoming worried about her."

"Yes, none of us liked it," Harvey said. "She didn't hide it. Couldn't, really. In a place like this how are you going to hide the bruises?"

"He beat her?" I asked.

"Yes, that's what she told me," Harvey said. "It was quite obvious, though. Bruises, a makeup-covered black-eye. It had been ongoing. It explains a lot about why she loved it here. We all loved her for it. We all tried to give her our best selves, and she appreciated it, so much."

"That's why we've been sad these last few weeks, without her," Betty added.

"Now I'm quite worried," Edith said.

"Would any of the members here have given her help outside of this place?" I asked. "Who was she closest too?"

Betty answered. "Hard to say. Harvey is a favorite of hers. And Ruth, of course, but Ruth is our den mother. She'd give the shirt off her back to any of us. Of course she doesn't have one on," Betty chuckled. "Those tits, am I right?"

Edith giggled, the first real sign of her relaxing. Her drink was in her hand and half gone already. I caught her eye and she blushed again. She drank her drink right down.

"These tits are lovely enough for me," Harvey said. He eyed Edith's plump and perky bare breasts, then lifted his gaze to her eyes. "May I kiss you, Edith?"

I half expected Edith to lean toward me and whisper in my ear that we should leave, we'd found out some good information and we should leave. But instead she looked up into Harvey's eyes, and she nodded.

"See what I mean?" Betty said to me. "We girls can't resist that big teddy bear. I'm guessing you're going to be a favorite man around here, too, Farlowe. I'm so glad I'm your first."

Betty kissed me again, this time moaning, maybe because my hands were on her this time, feeling the soft warmth of her bare back, or maybe because her fondling hand could now feel the full length of my hardened cock, it's full arousal now extending down the leg of my pants.

It was me who should have been leaning over to Edith now, whispering that we should leave, but instead I opened my eyes as Betty kissed me, and I watched my nice secretary Edith, her arms now fully embracing around Harvey's neck, her nearly nude body up on tip-toes. Harvey's hands roamed down her bare back, all the way down and under her silken underpants, making Edith moan into his kissing mouth as he fondled her buttocks.

In the time all this drinking and talking had taken, the room had become more orgy-like. More mouths on cocks, mouths on cunts, two couples fucking on the nearby mattress-covered floor in the alcove. Perhaps it was affecting Edith, the sights, the sounds, the excitement, like a drug, almost like opium in the air. I wasn't immune to it. Maybe no one is.

Harvey picked Edith up and sat her on the bar. He'd already pushed her underpants down, and now he took them off of her. Fully nude now, Edith's eyes were wide, not looking at me, just looking at him. He lifted her legs, forcing her to catch herself with her arms behind her, her breasts suddenly thrust and her breath suddenly gasping as this big teddy bear of a man mouthed the spread-wide glisten of her cunt. "Oh!... My!" she gasped.

"That's so nice, Edith," Betty said. "There's nothing like a new man, am I right?"

This had all moved fast. It worried me. But it was Edith who'd taken off her dress. It was Edith who'd okayed Harvey's request to kiss her. It was Edith who'd blissfully moaned when his hands slipped under the back of her underpants. Still, this quick shift to out-and-out sex worried me.

"Is it bad form for first-timers to question each other," I asked Betty.

"Not at all," she said. "Edith, honey, your hubby looks worried about you."

"Sorry old man," Harvey said, straightening up from his bent-over position, his lips glistening with cunt-slick. "Are we... having second thoughts? I'm afraid I got carried away, what with Edith being so fresh and exciting."

"Maybe if... Farlowe does the same... to you, Betty?" Edith said, her face suddenly blushing crimson red.

"You sure, Edith?" I asked. "If this is all too much for you we can leave. There's no shame in it."

"Oh, dear, that would be unfortunate," Betty said. "Just when you two have Harvey and me all worked up. But no, I shouldn't say that. A nice married couple like you, you need to make your own decisions."

"Any more drinks for you folks?" the bartender asked.

Edith looked at him. She was quite the sight sitting there fully nude on his bar. "I'll take another manhattan," she said. "Better make it a double."

"Sure, doll," he said.

"Another round for all four of us," Betty said, smiling. "The night is young. Farlowe, help me up onto the bar, will you? I feel the need to spread my legs the way your adorable wife likes to do."

I eyed Edith as I lifted Betty, my instinct that this was a 'new Edith' now more firmly rooted in my mind. I could hardly even picture her in her prim and proper work clothes anymore. No, her nudity, and the fresh memory of her thrust breasts and her gasping breath when Harvey first mouthed her cunt, it was all I could think of as I looked into her curious eyes.

"There's more to learn," she said to me.

"Oh, I do like that idea," Betty said. "So, we're off to the races? The four of us?"

I nodded at Edith, surprised at myself for going along with this fully sexual angle on things. If I'd gone to detective school and taken a course in 'How to be a good boss', what they taught me wouldn't have been anything like this. It wouldn't have been dragging your nice, kind secretary into an orgy. It wouldn't have been eating a cunt so close to her that you can feel the softness of her bare leg. It wouldn't have been getting goosebumps from hearing your secretary's ecstasy as her own cunt is eaten.

"Oh, praise Him!" Betty gasped, her hands firmly holding my head to her cunt as my mouth flooded with her taste. "Praise our good Lord!"

The bartender brought our drinks and left them next to us, the four of us too busy to touch them. Betty and Edith were both in ecstasy now, breasts thrust, cunts writhing against eager mouths. Edith surprised me when she took my hand, placing it on her own inner thigh, the soft feel of it so warm and womanly. Like Betty's soft thigh but different. I wondered if she'd done it to play up the husband and wife angle, but no, that kind of ruse was unnecessary at this point. There was more at play here. Edith was all new, and I was still learning about her.

Harvey and I did our best with our mouths, and our girls took the ball and ran with it, writhing and gasping there on that bar, all the way to orgasms or something very close to them.

"Oh my goodness!" Betty sighed. "You boys just earned extra points. Wow! Get your clothes off, we girls need to return the favor."

I looked at the blissful lust in Edith's eyes.

"Oh no, there's that worry again," Betty said. "Edith, honey, your husband is concerned about you. Are you comfortable taking the next step with Harvey? He really does have a marvelous cock."

"I'm hoping the answer is yes," Harvey said, smiling kindly.

Edith smirked. "It is."

"Goody!" Betty said. "You boys strip, and we'll all tumble onto that space on those nice soft mattresses over there. Something about doing it on the floor makes it all seem wonderfully dirty."

Surprised to hear Edith giggle at such a thing, I wondered if I should, for certain this time, get her and I out of this hedonistic place. Back into a cab, a quiet ride back to her apartment with neither of us knowing what to say. A simple 'See you Monday' as we part, then a quiet, confused ride home to my place, pondering the theory that Doris Morehouse's husband may be responsible for her disappearance, using his hiring of me as a cover-up.

"Such an excited man!" Betty said, seeing Harvey's cock out in the open now, fully hardened, fully horizontally erect. "Sweet Edith really is getting to you. I'm so happy about this. Edith, honey, no need to wait for us if you'd like to get that nice popsicle in your mouth."

Edith giggled again, her corner-of-the-eye glance at me clearly bashful. Surprising me again, she jumped down from the bar, was immediately on her knees, taking Harvey's big 'popsicle' as fully into her mouth as she could.

"Oh, that's it!" he blurted. "Edith, you're a dream!"

"A hungry little wife," Betty said to me, eyes twinkling. "Don't you feed her, Farlowe? Let's see what flavor yours is."

She unzipped me, had me quickly out, my excited stiffness quickly into her moaning mouth. "Edith, you lucky girl," she said, stroking my now full-sized phallus. "You lucky, lucky girl."

I watched Edith's eyes as she first saw me, a spark in them as they flared wide for a second. This was serious now. No more secrets. No more pretending. Yes, I'd hired her because she's attractive. I'd seen a similar spark, a similar flare in her eyes when we'd first met, Edith in my office because she'd answered an ad in the newspaper. Secretary wanted. I hired her on the spot. Her qualifications were good, and I could tell we'd hit it off. In a professional way. Keeping a secretary for more than a few months, let alone a year or more, was becoming a challenge lately. Some of them got married; one of them witnessed a gunfight and got scared; another ran off with a gangster I sometimes work for, his beer-can-sized money roll swaying her more than his slicked-back masculinity. My latest, Lottie, did two of those things: witnessed a gunfight and then married a cop, and now Edith is my fifth in just the last two years. I'm hoping she'll stick around awhile, but this orgy we were tumbling into made me wonder. But hey, if she dumps me because I'm a cad maybe her roommate would like the job.

"Let's get the formalities out of the way," Betty said. "When Harvey gets that nice big teddy bear cock right up against your sweet little wife's nice tight cunt, is he allowed to shove it right in?"

I smiled at Betty's twinkly-eyed bluntness. "That's up to her," I said.

"Good," Betty said. "Yes, I like that answer. Edith, do you like that answer?"

Edith smiled in a new way, like a pink-faced kitten. "I do. And he is," she said, turning her eyes on Harvey. "Allowed, I mean."

"Good," Betty said to her. "And I'm allowed to fuck this big-cocked stallion of yours? Please say yes, please say yes."

Edith smiled. "Only if I get to watch."

"I'll be disappointed if you don't," Betty said. "The four of us, let's see, eight hands, four mouths, two cocks, two cunts. Sound good? There's more, of course, but let's get started with an eight-handed game of orgy. Sound good?"

I watched Edith tighten, all her stomach muscles and some of the rest of her. "Yes," she said. "I've... always wondered about it. Can I ask you though, is your husband here? Harvey, is your wife here?"

"Yes, they're both here," he said. "My Mildred is right over there, with Walter, and Betty's husband, Henry, is over there, with... that woman with the glasses."

"Jane. Her name is Jane," Betty added.

I had a look at them and Jane caught my eye, her fully nude body above average in looks, plenty attractive. Her bottle-blonde hair was in childish pigtails, her face amended with too much makeup, her big thick glasses reminding me of my favorite librarian from when I was a teenager. My friends and I used to joke about what she'd look like if she let her hair down and took off her glasses, my guess always 'beautiful', my friends not so sure. This Jane was a nice enough looking dame, but something about her...

"You've softened up, honey," Betty said to me, still on her knees, massaging my cock and my balls again. "Take off your shirt. Give me the full picture. Nude men are my favorite thing in the world."

I smiled. Her mouth was working on my cock again. I was growing hard. I caught Edith's eye just as she was taking Harvey's hard cock into her mouth again. Even with her mouth full of it her eyes stayed on me, watching me take off my shirt, my body now fully nude. All four of us were nude. This wasn't what I'd expected tonight.

The four of us made the short move to the open spot on the grouped-together mattresses on the floor, Harvey wasting no time posing Edith the way he wanted her, on her knees with her back arched downward, her elbows supporting her, his mouth in deep between her ass cheeks, making her squirm and gasp.

"Edith, your tits hang so nicely like that," Betty said. "Don't you think, Farlowe? You probably never get to see her like this, from a new angle."

"Yes," I said. "Tonight is full of nice surprises."

Edith didn't toss me a look, just squirmed and gasped as Harvey's mouth took full control of her ass and cunt from behind, his mouth eager in there, his moans like primitive grunts.

Edith cried out her love of it when he shoved his cock into her cunt, from behind, in what's called the dog style. I felt like a lech staring at her, so I let my gaze drift, that Jane woman catching my eye again. She and Harvey's husband were both fully nude, as just about everyone was at this point. Her slender but womanly body was squatted on top of him on the floor, her hands on his chest, her cunt riding up and down on his stiff-as-a-pipe cock. With the room not being all that big I had a good view of her, her bliss easy to see, her eyes shy with mine but somehow unable to look away from me each time she opened them. Her thick glasses made her eyes appear small, but I guessed they were nice eyes when not thickly lensed. She seemed as curious with me as I was with her. I began dressing her in my imagination. I took down her childish pigtails and brushed out her hair. I let it grow longer and I dyed it brunette, almost black. I imagined her that way, without glasses, wearing a simple summer dress with a modest pearl necklace around her neck, and now she was a dead ringer for Doris Morehouse. It was her. It had to be.

"Don't look at her, look at me," Betty said. "Kiss me, Farlowe. Kiss my tits. Lay me down. I want to feel you on top of me. I want you to fuck me that way."

"God yes!" Edith cried out next to us. "Fuck me!... Fuck me!"

"Wow, Harvey," Betty said, her eyes on the deep and energetic dog-style fucking he was giving her. "Farlowe, you gonna do me that good?"

With my eyes drawn to Edith again, I watched the enthusiastic way in which she was taking Harvey's skilled, un-ending thrusts, her hips swiveling, their two bodies fully in sync now, Edith fucking him as much as he was fucking her. Her eyelids fluttered as she drifted into the zone. "Oh my God yes!" she grunted, her voice a carnal groan.

"I suppose I shouldn't be interrupting you watching your wife," Betty said, stroking my cock with her gentle hand. "She's got you hard as a rock. You're as big as any of these guys, you know that? Sorry, I don't want you to think I'm needy."

"I don't think that," I said, connecting with Betty again. "You're a delight, and I don't say that about too many women."

Betty smiled. "How 'bout this," she said, posing on knees and elbows right next to Edith. "Fuck me like a dog, Farlowe. Just give it to me. Fuck me with your big cock."

I knew it was wrong, unprofessional, but Betty's ass bowled me over, as did Edith's ass, and Edith's pendulous tits, and Edith's sensuous noises. I found my cock deep in Betty's cunt as if I'd dreamt it there, without thinking, the velvety squeeze of her warm and deep tightness drawing a loud moan from me as I bottomed-out in the mind-melting heaven of her depths. Edith moaned when she heard me.

Harvey and I fucked our girls for a good long time, the four of us glistening with sweat, then he tapped me on the shoulder, orgy language for 'you take mine now'.

He was pulled out and ready for the move, plenty of space for me to move in behind Edith, but I hesitated. She looked over her shoulder at me. "Do it, Farlowe," she lustily said. "Give it to me."

Harvey nudged me, his hard cock eager for Betty's charms. I made the switch, but didn't feel right fucking Edith just yet. She cried out a breathy "Yes!" when my mouth began exploring the deep crack of her round ass.

"Oh fuck yeah!" Betty gasped when Harvey suddenly filled her. "Two big cocks!... My favorite night!"

"It's a fabulous night," Harvey said, his steady thrusts now taking Betty higher.

"Fuck that girl, Farlowe," Betty said to me. "Fuck her like you mean it. Like your wedding night."

I smiled at that.

"Do it, Farlowe," Edith urged. "Fuck me like it's our wedding night."

I straightened up and found her entrance. I pressed in.

"Oh yeah!" she gasped. "Jesus!... Oh yeah!"

Edith felt as deep as the sea, as tight as a virgin. Oh my God! Was she a virgin? Was tonight that... for her? I pulled out, in shock at what I'd done bringing her here.

"No, no," she sighed. "Put it back. Deep. Even deeper."

"Maybe we should go," I said.

She looked over her shoulder at me, a surprised disapointment in her eyes. "Go?... Why?... You don't... like me?"

"Jeepers, what a thing to say," Betty said. "Fuck that girl, Farlowe. Have you ever seen such need in a girl's eyes?"

Edith's hand, under her, guided me back to her entrance. "Oh yeah!" she sighed when I pressed in. "That's it!... That's what I want!"

I knelt almost still now, Edith's hips rocking backwards and forwards, fucking my full length. "I've never had... big like you," she breathily confessed. It worried me because it didn't sound like something a wife would say to her husband, but it eased my mind that she wasn't a virgin.

"I hope I wasn't inadequate," Harvey said.

"Oh my god no!" Edith said.

"Yes, Harvey never disappoints," Betty said, "Harvey dear, let that girl suck your cock while her husband fucks her. That's always a thrill for us girls."

"I'd be delighted," Harvey said, and suddenly my sweet, kind secretary was a full-blown orgy whore, gagging hungrily on a big stiff cock while I deeply fucked the heavenly tightness of her hot velvet cunt.

As I tried to keep at least a bit of my mind on reality, I saw Betty wander off. She kissed her husband. She chatted with his female partner. She went to the pigtailed bottle-blonde, whispered in her ear, then she went to Ruth and whispered some more. Ruth was at my side just a few moments later, then two more women joined us. My cock was being sucked, my balls were being sucked, my chest was being massaged and my mouth was being kissed. It was an assault I'll long remember, and long long for. But maybe the biggest surprise was the way Edith took to the women, mouthing their cunts, sweetly moaning. Yes, this was real orgy now.

Harvey and I were flooded with women. Beautiful, not beautiful, it didn't matter. I began to wonder if there really was opium in the air, so far into the dream I fell. Ruth's sister Norma took me from on top, kissing me as she fucked me. She gave way to Ruth herself, her luscious big tits smothering my wet-mouthing smile as her fingers raked through my hair. A redhead with a red cunt rode my face, cumming so hard I lost track of the brunette riding my cock. When I looked to smile at her it wasn't the brunette I thought it was, it was Edith, using every inch of me again. "Monday will be different," I said. "Yes," she happily sighed, dropping forward to feed my mouth her tits, her cunt as tight as a vice on my cock.

When she moved to another man I rolled onto my side and my mouth found a spread-wide cunt, its pubic hair dark brunette. I ate of it freely, as is the custom at an orgy, so lost in the taste of this new woman I hadn't even looked at her.

"I love it," she sighed, reaching for my head to hold it there. "I love it so."

I lifted my gaze, her flat stomach tense with pleasure, her tits plump and softly moving. She lifted her head to look at me. Childish pigtails, bottle blonde. "Fuck me," she said. "Please fuck me."

"You're Doris, aren't you. You're the woman I'm looking for."

"Oh no!" she said, suddenly emotional, almost in tears. "No, no, don't know me yet. Please... please... don't know me yet, just fuck me," she said, almost begging. "It's the only way to save me. You'll tell my husband you can't find me. If you fuck me it'll give me the power over you. I'd never turn you in, never put your detective's license in jeopardy of course, because I'll be so grateful to you. So very grateful. But if you send me back to my husband he'll kill me. I know he will. Me being gone all this time, he'll be more angry with me than ever. If he doesn't kill me he'll break my bones to keep me home. He'll lock me up. He'll rape me."

"Is this place any better?" I asked. "If you hide away here, if you give yourself to men, how is it different?"

"Affection. Adoration. Friendship. The greatest pleasures. All of those things. They couldn't be more different than home, with him," she said. "Please, Farlowe. Fuck me. That way you'll have to lie to him. That way I'll be free. It's the only way, but... it's also the way I want, more than anything."

"Fuck her, Farlowe," Ruth said. "She's a grown woman, she knows what she wants. It'll be the best, most meaningful fuck of her life."

"Are you all in on this?" I asked. "This whole evening was a con game?"

Ruth shook her head. "That's an unpleasant way of thinking about it. Look at it from the other direction, Farlowe. Yes, my sister told me why you knocked on our door, and she told me about her unfortunate attraction to you that caused her to invite you to our gatherings. I of course immediately told my husband and Doris about you. We decided to call an emergency meeting, everyone came here tonight an hour before you got here. We all decided it was best to have you in on our love of Doris, instead of outside of it. Betty and Harvey volunteered to take the lead. The truth of it, Farlowe, is that you came along at the perfect time, you and Edith. Yes, we're all in on this, and we all manipulated the situation right from the start this evening, but that's only a small part of it. What you've seen here, what you've felt here, that part is all real. This is what we do on Saturday nights. We all love each other. Pleasure for pleasure's sake. Having you two here has made it even more pleasurable. Nothing fake about that. Not a con. Just a beautiful, loving way to take care of our Doris, a sweet and kind woman who needs our help. Don't you want to be in on that part? Just a beautiful, loving way to make this woman safe and happy."

Doris was next to me now, leaning over me from the side, her soft, loving mouth sucking my somewhat flaccid cock, beginning to harden me. She looked over her shoulder at me. "Please, Farlowe. Make me the happiest woman in the world tonight."

She mouthed my cock again. I felt it growing in her mouth as she lifted her leg over me, sixty-nining me, her soft cunt touching my lips and my tongue, a happy gasp of air coming from her mouth.

Edith was soon with her, the two of them sharing my now very hard cock. I breathed the heady scent of Doris's perfumed ass, my mouth now fully engaged with her slippery cunt and clit. I was conflicted as to what the right thing was to do; certainly fucking the wife of a client was not the right thing. Or was it? These good people had seen Doris bruised and battered, and I'd had a bad feeling about her husband from day one. Now the pleasures of the night were sweeping me toward a decision, my hands on Doris's thighs as Edith urged Doris's hips toward my cock, fully stiff now and held upright by Edith's lady-like hand.

"Ohhhhh!" Doris happily exclaimed, as she lowered her welcoming cunt down onto my cock, taking me deeper, and deeper, her blissful sighs like that of the freshest warm breeze. She felt truly safe and free now, I could tell. The hands of so many of her friends were on her, her head tipped back. Yes, she felt truly safe and free, and I silently wished her the best with it.

--

The next day, I did some thinking. I called Ruth at The Raven. I took a cab there, hoping to learn some more details and come up with a plan. In their daytime dresses, with less makeup and basic-brushed hair, Ruth and Doris looked different. Doris showed me the last remnant of scab and bruise on the back of her upper arm, her mood dim when Ruth showed me a small photograph of Doris's frightened face with a black-eye.

"He might never stop looking for you," I said. "But... maybe I can throw him so far off the trail he'll bog down in nothing and give up. I'm willing to try. You were right last night, all of this does put my detective's license at risk, but... I'm willing to do my best for you. I need you to pay me a dollar so you're officially a client of mine. That'll help a little with the ethics."

Doris cried tears of relief and joy. "Thank you, Farlowe. I'll never be able to thank you enough."

We talked some more and we came up with a plan. The next day, I called Ronald Morehouse. He was at my office a few hours later.

"I have a solid lead," I said, "but, let me ask you, did your wife have a dream destination? A vacation place that she dreamed about?"

"She bothered me with travel brochures all the time," he grumbled. "Always the same, always the Bahamas. Tacked up pictures on the wall by the washing machine. Thumbtacks right into the plaster! How childish is that! Ruined the walls!"

"You two never went there? Never went to the Bahamas?"

"No way! What a waste of money!"

I nodded. Right there on the spot I made up a story that fit. "Your wife's trail leads to Miami, as far as I can tell. There's a bum, a grifter, that hangs around the bus station here in the city. He's helped me out before, knows I'll slip him a few bills for information. He keeps his eyes open and has a good memory, he's never steered me wrong. I showed him the picture of Doris, he's sure he saw her at the ticket counter buying a ticket to Miami. I've got a friend down there, runs a charter fishing boat. He's told me about all the boat operators who'll run folks over to the islands, at night, no passports. If you look on a map you'll see it's not one island, it's lots of 'em. A good place to disappear. That's my guess, based on everything I've found and what you've told me. It all adds up. You can hire a private detective down there, or pay me to go down, but Miami's a big city, and it's a big ocean. I can tell you that if you send me down, my expenses will be steep and it's probably a dead-end trail. I'm happy to do it, though. My secretary would look good in a bathing suit, if you know what I mean." I winked.

Morehouse shook his head. "I aint' payin' for no vacation for you and your skank. I'm done with this shit. I'm gonna call the cops and tell 'em she's gone and I don't give a fuck about it. There's other women."

"You're right about that," I said.

After he left, Edith came into my office. "I wanted to hit him upside the head with a baseball bat," she said. "How did it go? Did he buy it?"

"He did. It'll still be touch-and-go for Doris, but if she's careful, or decides to move out of town, I think she'll be alright."

Edith nodded. "Seems like a case well played. Better than some others, right? A happy ending, almost like in the movies."

I smirked. "That's right. No bullets flew."

Edith looked pleased. "Since it's the first case I assisted on with this much... hands-on, I guess you'd say... I thought maybe we should celebrate. Remember my roommate, Bernice? She thought that, she and I, maybe we could make some mac-and-cheese for you tonight, with maybe a couple bottles of wine. At our place."

"Oh," I said, smiling at Edith's blushing. "What kind of wine do you girls like?"

"We usually get Claret, or maybe champagne if we're feeling flush. With that extra pay I just made I guess I can swing it."

"No, I don't want you to spend that on me. I'll bring the wine. Three bottles of champagne. That enough for a threesome?"

Edith's eyes flared, her blush suddenly pinker. "A threesome? Jeepers, Farlowe, you and Bernice have dirty minds. I'm learning, though. I'm... happy about that."

"You surprised me, taking off your dress, at The Raven."

"I surprised myself. Bernice was in my head. I was thinking about what she would do."

"I wondered about that," I said. "Is she a mentor, on the subject of...'worldly' pursuits?"

Edith nodded bashfully. "Do you think less of me? Is a modern girl still a tramp these days? What do men think?"

"What do men think? They wish there was a Raven on every block, a Raven wife in every home."

"They do not," she said. "If you're just trying to make me feel better I'd rather have honesty."

"I am being honest. That's the way men think, as far as I know."

Truly?" she said. "Why don't women know this? Maybe... they want it that way, too. A Raven on every block, I mean."

I smiled. "Three bottles at your place, tonight. I can't think of a better way to celebrate."

"I feel like inviting Doris, and Ruth, and Harvey, but... my apartment is too small."

It seemed like the right time to tell her the rest. "Ruth wanted me to tell you, your name is on the list at the door, if you ever want to go back there on a Saturday night. I'll bet you could bring Bernice with you without a problem. It could be a way to return the favor, show your mentor something new. After that short chat I had with her up in your apartment the other night I'm guessing the men at the Raven would love her. I already know they love you."

"Oh my gosh. Wow," Edith said. "Let's just... not tell her about that. She'd want to go, and... I don't know if I'm ready for that."

"I won't say a word."

"It's not just me though, is it?" Edith asked.

"The open door at The Raven? No, both of us are on the list," I said.

Edith's twinkling eyes looked curious. "Since you're a man, and you wish there was a Raven on every block, I'll assume you'll be stopping in every once in a while?"

I smirked. "That remains to be seen."

"I can hardly believe I'm going to ask you this," she said, "but... would you escort me? I know it's a silly 'woman thing', but if I walk in there alone, or even with Bernice, it seems... less... ladylike. Considering what the place is, that's silly, right?"

"Not at all. Edith, I'd be happy to escort you. Delighted, in fact."

"This Saturday?" she asked.

"Oh. Sure."

"Maybe we could make it a standing date?" she said. "Sorry, I shouldn't presume you don't have other things to do."

"You presume correctly. Unless I'm working a case of course, but otherwise, yes. Saturday's at The Raven, with you. I can think of no better way to end the week."

"We can say we're checking up on Doris, just making sure she's doing well."

"Yes. It's the right thing to do."

Edith smiled. It was the same smile I saw when she opened her apartment door to me later that night, she and Bernice both smiling, both topless, two delightful modern women wearing nothing but lingerie underpants. It was also the same smile I saw in a mirror on the tiny apartment's wall, when the three of us were nude on the lumpy double bed, my cock deeply fucking Edith from behind while Bernice lay under her, mouthing her pendulous breasts. Yes, Edith has a lovely smile. I hope she sticks around for a while.