Blog Tour:Sesame Swallow Private Investigator by D.Scott Meek

Book Info-
Title- Sesame Swallow, Private Investigator
By- D. Scott Meek
Publication Date- November 13, 2013
Genre- Romance/ Mystery/Comedy 
 
Blurb-
Looking for a chance to make a name for herself, Sesame Swallow, wanna-be Baltimore private eye, finds herself in the midst of her first real case and on a slipperier slope than usual to danger.

If Nancy Drew had come of age in the modern world, worn eye-popping short skirts and stilettos and drank Johnny Walker Black with the best of them, she would have been Sesame Swallow, a late-twenties party girl with an oral fetish straight from the not-so-hallowed halls of a local college and looking to make a splash in the shady world of private investigation. After months of questioning her career move, Sesame finally lands her first case: find a missing person, the web-famous wife of a local entrepreneur and wealthy businessman, but she’ll need to get her hands and her knees dirty to do the deed. A raunchy, laugh-out-loud adventure, this first in a series of seductive mysteries finds our sexy heroine doing what she does best: whatever must be done to whomever she must do it.

"I really enjoyed reading Sesame Swallow, there was a dark twist in the story line that just drew you in. The sex scenes were hot, and the connection to the characters was pretty deep. This story also brings to light a global crime that some may not even be aware of—human trafficking. I think it takes talent, like D. Scott Meek's, to bring a very real problem into a fictional story and make it work."
- Thom Cahir, author of "911 Avenged"

 
Excerpt :

Sesame is in her favorite place doing her first research into the missing person, one Goldie Rains, an almost-famous internet porn star on her own website MakingItRain.com. Looking at porn in a public place can result in all kinds of interesting conversations.
*****

Sitting in Starbutts with my tall, skinny, extra whip, white chocolate mocha and blueberry muffin was always enjoyable, and today was or was not an exception – the jury was still out. I had my favorite jeans on, the ones that hugged my ass just right, my white Towson Tigers Soccer hoodie – the tiger was pink and black like a little stuffed animal – and my hair in a ponytail, except for that one little bit that kept falling in my eyes. Comfortable and presentable, maybe even hot by the way I’d caught a few boys giving me the eye. I even had my tortoise shell-rimmed glasses on, my “academic look”, and I’d found the perfect kicks to go with my hoodie – black with pink swoosh. I gazed down at them and smiled, silently thanking Nike yet again for their outlet up in Lancaster. It was never too early in the day to look cute, and besides, my watch looked vaguely like noon, or was it more like one – I couldn’t quite tell because my vision was a little hazy still. Of course, there were a few downers. My head was on the very edge of exploding – probably accounted for the vision thing, and I’d taken as much extra-strength whatever as was possible without sending me into a coma. The pain was fading entirely too slowly, but there was some progress, and the stomach was not so much growling anymore, most of the muffin having disappeared down some dark hole recently reserved for other tasty snacks. Now, with a little caffeine, I was feeling content, if not fully alive. The patient was going to make it.
I was not raring to go, as my father would say. In fact, I was sure that I was supposed to be still sleeping. Wasn’t there a queen-sized bed with my name on it somewhere? I vaguely remembered being in it, and suddenly I was sure Bea still was. Bitch. I frowned, but the thought of her lying there naked in my bed reminded me of the other part of my body – besides my head – that was throbbing, and I squeezed my legs together. She’d expressly told me not to touch until I had gotten a move on in this case, and I didn’t want to disappoint her. To some degree she was right. I needed to get going on this thing and at least put some effort into earning the money I was looking at: ten grand. Otherwise, without a little forceful hand from a friend, I’d be spending most of my day in my yellow Towson Soccer baby doll t-shirt with my hands on my pussy, wasting the day away in an orgasmic frenzy – if she let me. I thought of the big yellow over-stuffed chair sitting in the sun next to bedroom window, my legs open and feet pressed against the warm glass – a window-washer’s dream come true – and I crossed my legs. Not now. As Bea said, if I was a “good girl” and made some progress, there would be something in it for me later. Double bitch. I was hoping it would be something large and hard, so I was going to be a good girl.
Back to work.
I focused on the muffin and stuffed the rest of it into my mouth, following it up with another swig of the mocha – what a combination! – and glanced down at my iPad again. I’d scrawled a few notes on it with my stylus using a very cool new note-taking app that I’d only downloaded a few days before. I stared at my handwriting, felt my eyes struggle to focus, and read off the notes I must have jotted down when I’d come in and was still operating in semi-sleep mode.
Lindsay Rains, aka, Goldie Showers. 23. MakingItRain.com. I tapped the icon next to the url and pulled up the site. It might give me something; it might not. It certainly gave me an eyeful. After the entrance page and typing in my year of birth – getting carded on the web was at least the stupidest thing ever invented – I was brought to the guest/intro page, and there was Lindsay, her torso anyway – from the top of her head to what looked to be just above her nipples, and her eyes shut as a clear liquid came squirting down onto her, splashing first in her hair and then onto her face. She made a little cooing sound and opened her mouth, where the stream was then directed. Then the clip restarted, and she was smiling at me, great big grey eyes, long eyelashes (piss-proof mascara?), and the tops of her massive jugs. The piss started again, and she took it with a smile.
I took a deep breath. Damn, the bitch really went for it. She figuratively, and literally, I guess, drank it down. I stared at it bewildered, not sure how I felt about it – I hated anything on my hair or face, which is why I always swallowed. But this was piss. Or maybe it was water and looked like piss – there was no way to tell now, but maybe it would be clearer as I went deeper into the site. Still, she smiled and she swallowed, and suddenly I wondered if that’s what I’d look like, and if I’d go for the hot steaming stream like she did.
I shuddered, and I squeezed my legs together. Not sure. Didn’t want to think about it.
Suddenly, from behind me, I heard a chuckle. I spun – too quickly, and my head screamed out in pain; I’m not sure if I screamed or not. Behind me, when my vision cleared, were two stupid boys, staring at my iPad. Jesus! Just what I needed – caught in a Starbutts watching a girl get pissed on and trying to decide if it was hot or not!
Kinky,” said the douche on the left. He had his hat on backwards – clear douche sign. The other giggled and sipped his iced coffee through a straw. He was cute, but that made no difference to me at the moment; he could be the Crown Prince of CasholaStan, and I’d have kicked him in the balls. After all, they’d both nearly killed me by making me wrench around so quickly. And they both needed to – .
Fuck off,” I grumbled through a polite-ish smile, keeping my voice low but forceful enough that they’d know what they were getting into. I hoped they could see the murder in my eyes.
Say, sweetness,” said the one with the hat as he leaned down on the back of the chair, entirely too close for my comfort, making me wish I had a taser, “if you are looking for a little wet work, Bobby and I can probably oblige. Right, Bob?” Bob nodded, and I could see the sudden hope light up his face like a firework display on a dark night. Yeah, it’s early on a Saturday, and we are out sipping coffee and hoping to run into a girl who likes to be pissed on – what the fuck? Was this the real world? And then I realized it was the B, and in the B, stupid assholes were everywhere. They didn’t call it “Charm City” for nothing, right?
I squinched up my face as if I was contemplating it and then set them straight. “I tell you what, boys. If you are down, maybe later I’ll come by and show you what a hot shower is all about, huh?” They seemed to both brighten at the prospect, and if I’d looked, I’m sure I would have seen the hint of a boner in both, but I kept my eyes locked on theirs for the moment. “I have a thing for golden showers, as you can see, so if you boys are game, I can stop by and piss on you both. Is that cool?” The smiles faded away quickly, and I almost wanted to laugh. “Just both of you be naked and laying together, say in the tub, and I’ll pull my panties to the side and make it rain. What do you say? I love pissing on cute little boys like you. And afterward, maybe you can make out or jerk each other off. That shit makes me hot.”
They didn’t hang around. “Fuck you, freak,” said Douche Number One, and he walked off. Bob, the cute one, gave me the once over as they headed out the door, and he looked back again when they got to the door. Maybe he thought that was hot. Maybe he didn’t mind grabbing on his boy’s junk for a hot chick – hell, boys weren’t that bright around here from what I’d seen. As for me, well, I certainly would have enjoyed it – not gone through with it, of course, but the idea of pissing on those two dickheads suddenly made my head feel better. So did the idea of getting a taser. I giggled to myself as I watched them disappear and turned back to my business. Douches defeated; it was time to get serious.


*****




Excerpt:

Sesame tracks down some of the missing person’s friend at the local strip club. She needs information, and she gets more than she bargains for, but it comes at a price.
*****
I looked up when a shadow fell over me, and Ariel was there in a tiny baby doll top that did almost nothing to hide her massive mammaries, the smallest pair of turquoise panties I’d ever seen and knee-high patent leather boots that I suddenly desperately needed. Her hair was jet black with a hint, I thought, of purple. Her eyes were blue ice, and when they looked at me, I was suddenly left feeling inadequate. She smiled and put out her hand. I leaned up when I shook it and inhaled. She smelled like coconut, like a piƱa colada, what I would be drinking if I were in Cozumel instead of a strip club in the fucking B on a rainy Sunday.
Hi,” she said with a smile like a ray of sunshine. I watched her size me up, and unlike most women, she seemed perfectly at ease with what she saw, even pleasantly pleased. I imagined it was hard to be envious of other women when you looked like she did; if I’d been a guy, I would have shoved me out of the way to get to her – no doubt. And she seemed nice. So far, so good. Maybe not a total loss.
Hi,” I replied, swallowing. “I’m Swallow, Sesame Swallow. I’m a private investigator.”
Oh, I know, hon. Elektra filled me in. She said you wanted to talk?” Her smile remained in place, she held eye contact, and her voice was easy and inviting. She had a great personality for the business.
Yeah, is that cool? I just have some questions about your friend Lindsay.” I indicated the seat next to me where Elektra had been sitting, but she didn’t flinch.
That’s cool, hon, but I’m working today, and I need to look like I’m making some bills, you know? I can help you if you can help me, you know?”
It took me a second, but then I got it. I nodded, and she immediately extended a hand, which I didn’t hesitate to take. It seemed she knew exactly what was going to happen in this exchange and I was just playing catch-up. “Just leave your stuff here, hon, and follow me. No one will mess with it.”
Confident, inviting, alluring and assuring – she was a master, and I came right out of my seat to follow her to the back room. “K,” I said. I gunned the last of the Johnny Walker and went along for the ride.
It was time for a private dance, which made me wonder – did she have something really juicy to tell me or was she just wanting to get paid while she did her part for her friend? I hoped for the former. I needed more of a clue than I’d gotten from Elektra. Just one clue, I knew, could break the case wide open, and then I could start to get that sense of real job satisfaction that had seemed to be lacking since I started this career. No more cheating boyfriends and skulking around downtown hotels. Credibility – it was within my grasp.
A moment later my grasp was centered on a very large pair of tits as Ariel pushed me down into a private seating area and put my hands on her massive mounds. “Girls can touch. Nobody minds. But boys – hell no.” She smiled and straddled me as something with a smooth beat came on and she began to grind her body against me. I opened my mouth to speak, trying to remember my line of questions, but she pressed in on me and my face was suddenly lost in her cleavage – coconut heaven! I inhaled the dream, luxuriated in the smoothness of her skin and before I realized it, my lips were pressed against her, laying a series of tiny kisses between her breasts, my hands moving on to find her perfect round ass, straining against the urge to yank on the g-string there and rip it from her hips. Before I even realized what I was doing, she dropped her head and her lips were crushing mine, her tongue inside my mouth, and all thoughts of the first question I had for her were gone. Lindsay who?
I was lost, floating in a jumbled fusion of sound, smell and taste, and somewhere in the very center of the pleasure cloud forming around me, I could feel that terrible, delicious ache rearing its needy head. Ariel pushed me and punished me, her body grinding in ways that left me feeling like I was missing an integral part of myself as a woman, left me feeling that I must have been mistaken all these years and perhaps I was really a man. Was this what it felt like to be a dude at a strip club? I’d been to this place dozens of times, and I’d had my mostly drunken fun and thrown my dollars around, and I’d had my share of lap dances, even a private room session with a friend who wanted us both to go back, but never had I experienced the blissful satisfaction that I was feeling at that moment. Ariel was as pure as the driven snow with a heart as black as coal, earning every dollar I knew I would pay, and she must have sensed my need because she didn’t let up, her mouth on my neck and then suddenly her nipples pushing against my lips.
I groaned as she grinded, falling deeper into the seat as she put the music to shame and pressed her belly to my face for the shower of kisses that she must have known would come. I didn’t disappoint, my mouth against her tropical-flavored skin, my tongue finding her belly button – an innie – and then my kisses at the top edge of the tiny triangle of turquoise. I could smell her arousal as strongly as I could feel mine, and if she had pulled the little path of cloth to the side, I would have happily pressed my face into her wetness. I prayed silently that she would, and then suddenly the music stopped and she leaned back, her heavy breathing matching mine, her eyes locked onto mine, and smiled.
Oh, that was fun, huh?” She giggled and reached for her top, standing up and slipping it on over her head and those miracle tits as if nothing had happened. All I could do was watch, a little pout undoubtedly on my face. “You are so pretty and smell so good; I just couldn’t help myself. I hope you don’t mind.”
I –,” I stammered like an idiot. It was official; I’d become a guy. “Thanks.” I was sure I was blushing, and I was absolutely sure if she’d asked me to go home with her right that moment, I would have agreed. She was a top-shelf stripper for Christ’s sake! She was supposed to make you lose your shit, and I had lost mine. “You were…like wow.” And then I knew I’d completely transformed into a man. I couldn’t speak, and I was ready to come in my pants.
She giggled, and I couldn’t help watching her tits jiggle.
So, you had some questions for me, right, hon?” She was on to business before I could even get there myself, and I knew I was done for the day. Before I could even nod, she went on. “Well, you know, I’m working, so can we do this later? We are short-handed today, and that was three songs, so I’m going to have to get back on the main stage in a couple of minutes, and I need time to change and freshen up. Okay?” She seemed honestly apologetic, a little “I’m so sorry” half-smile on her face, innocence personified, as if she had no idea she’d almost changed my gender in one private dance.
Yeah, sure,” I managed. “Let me give you my card, and when you are ready, give me a call. This is important though, so please don’t wait too long. The sooner we find Lindsay, the better, right?”
Ariel nodded, suddenly solemn, and took the card that was proffered. She looked at it for a minute, and then tucked into that tiny turquoise triangle, and I nearly sighed. So close. “Okay, I have to run, hon. That was five songs, so it’ll be an even three fifty.”
 LINKS
About the Author-
What's a mid-40's divorced man to do after wrapping up twenty years in the US Navy? Why, start a career in teaching and writing, of course. Oh, and explore the world some more. And read everything possible. And go back to school. And enjoy every moment to its fullest.
A teacher for the government by day, I ply my wares at night on my laptop, where I'm cranking out silly blog posts, socio-political commentary, poetry, short stories and novels at an excessive rate. If I was driving, I'd have been pulled over by now. Meanwhile, I have kids to raise, a girlfriend to love, and a spunky wiener dog named Sloppy Joe to goof around with.
Beyond that, I'm busy with life, having fun, working out, going to parties, traveling, etc. When I burn out and die, I want to be able to say that I did everything that was possible for me to do. I want to die like I live: with a smile on my face.

 LINKS:


Giveaway-
Giveaway is open to US residents ONLY--3 $10 Amazon Gift Cards & 5 Signed Copies of ‘Sesame Swallow, Private Investigator





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