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Keeping them company was a bozo vying for the cackle factory. The gee kept banging his head against the side of the bench and mixing his words like he was making a salad instead of a sentence. Moe walked over to the only desk with a working boy in blue behind it. A portrait of somebody’s mother was the desk’s main attraction. ‘Any chance Detective Jansen’s still around?’ Moe asked. The copper replied, but his eyes and nose stayed pinned to his copy of Outdoor Life. ‘Who wants to know?’ ‘The name’s Gafferson. Moe Gafferson.’ John Law lifted his eyes and shot a glimpse at Moe. Apparently, he saw nothing to take him away from fly-fishing, and he went back to reading. As an afterthought, he added, ‘Yeah, he’s here. Up the stairs and to the right.’ Moe knew the layout: flatfoots shared the first floor while the suits camped out on the second. The stairwell separating the two floors circled upwards in an ornate scroll like it should be hosting debutantes instead of criminals and fat. I purposely waited for him to enter the lift, then I ran as the lift door closed, he saw me run to the lift, my tits and other parts of my body, bouncing and wiggling. I wanted him to see me run like that in my saree.I entered the lift, gasping for breath, bending down a little to catch my breath and to expose my cleavage even more. I thanked him and placed my flat palm on my cleavage while thanking him. I stood close next to him inside the lift, pulling my hair to the other shoulder to expose my sleeveless shoulder. And I breathed very very heavily, to make sure he notices my craving body.While exiting the lift, I turned to him and whispered in his ear, “Flat no. 709” and walked out of the lift giving him the naughtiest possible expression. I smirked as the lift door closed. I entered my apartment and again threw myself to the bed.As I lifted my saree to touch myself, I heard the door bell ring. I knew who it was. I knew he had come to devour me. I opened the door and there he was..
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