Michele Bravo and the Mystery of Mr. Largo, ch 1

Chapter One: Afternoon Delight

Michele Bravo’s keen eyes caught the brightly colored sign of the Frosticles far in the distance, and assumed correctly that it would turn out to be an ice cream parlor. Her eyes flicked quickly to the dashboard clock. It was just after noon, and she had another hour to go before she arrived at the Thunder Sky Casino, just outside of Minneapolis, Minnesota. And once she was there, she’d have another seven hours to weight before her appointment with…. Mr. Largo.

Frosticles it would be, then.

Michele drove into the parking lot. She drove through it slowly, not so much looking for a parking spot but looking at the lay of the land. It was a habit of hers. She liked to ensure that she could make a fast getaway if she needed to do so.

And, indeed, the parking lot had two entrances. One was in front, in front of the Frosticles building itself, and one was in the rear. The front lot was half empty, there were no cars in the back. Michele reversed her car into one of the spots closest to the exit.

Grabbing her carryall from the passenger’s seat, Michelle walked into the ice cream parlor, glanced around casually as she did so. She saw nothing more than a few couples, and a couple of families, out enjoying themselves. She ordered a small hot fudge sundae, and took it into a rear booth so that she could watch all comings and goings while she savored her treat.

Finally, regretfully, she gazed into the empty icecream bowl. She would have liked another one, but she didn’t dare. For the next couple of weeks she’d be on the job, and probably wouldn’t be able to work out at all. Considering the role she’d be playing, she’d probably have to eat a lot and not be able to exercise, so she’d put on a few pounds. Best not to get started too early.

Michele emptied her tray into the nearest rubbish bin, and then took her bag into the bathroom. She locked herself into the large handicapped stall. There, she reached into her carryall, and took out a padded long-sleeve sweatshirt, which she drew on over her t-shirt, and padded sweatpants, which she drew on over her shorts. There was not too much padding. She didn’t want to look so overweight as to be memorable, she only wanted to look overweight enough so that the roving eyes of young men would rove over her and move on without interest.

Finally, to complete the ensemble, she inserted pads in her cheeks, to plump them out.

Zipping her carryall securely, she exited the stall and glanced at herself quickly in the mirror. She nodded approval. Transformation complete.

Turning back onto the highway, Michele turned on her CD player. Robin Bailey, reading Catherine Aird’s The Stately Home Murders. The versatile actor gave voice to each character with a different type of British accent, from Nottinghamshire to Cockney. As he spoke, Michele amused herself by trying to match his pronunciations of the various vowels. She wouldn’t need such accents in this present job, but she always liked to be learning something that she could use in the future.

She arrived at the Thunder Sky Casino to find that, even at one o’clock in the afternoon, the parking lots were two thirds full. Michele shook her head at the folly of mankind. The hotel section of the parking lot, however, had plenty of empty spaces, and she found one to her liking.

The clerk who checked her in was pleasant, and she took her two bags up to her room. She unpacked only a few pieces from one of them, including her laptop, which she plugged in and turned on.

Michele glanced at her watch. A few more hours before the appointment. Well…she’d relax and read a book.

The bed in her room was large and sumptuous. She took all of the pillows and arranged them behind her as a backrest, then dug into her purse for her book on the Entartete Kunst. She knew the book by heart – indeed, she was supposed to be an expert in the subject, that’s why she’d been tapped for this little project by …. Mr. Largo.

As she opened the book and began to read, she began to hear a rhythmic bumping noise coming from the wall.

Michele closed the book and grinned. Someone was grabbing a little afternoon delight.

She listened for a few minutes. A man and a woman. She couldn’t hear what they were saying through the wall, but she could hear the sound of their voices, low and chuckling, and that ever present rhythmic bumping, as the headboard from the bed on the other side knocked against the wall, thanks no doubt to the rhythmic pelvic thrusts of the man on top of the woman…

Michele felt a fluttering between her legs.

It had been a long time since she’d had sex. There was more than one reason for that. She was between men, for one thing, and for another, although she carried a vibrator with her at all times, she felt about it as she did about hot fudge sundaes or other dietary pleasures… it all tasted better the more infrequent it was.

Now…now was the time.

Michele went to the door and made sure that she had locked and chained it. Then she stripped out of her “fat-suit.” There was a full-length mirror in this hallway portion of the room, she turned sideways, looking at her body. She had an athlete’s body, one gained by years of working out with weights. Not too excess…she had no desire to look like a man with breasts, but the natural bicep curves of a woman who was more interested in power and endurance. Her stomach was flat, her thighs firm from years of bike riding and roller blading. Her breasts just the right size, not too big. “Pert,” as her first boyfriend had told her.

Michele grinned. Moving with purpose now, she took her vibrator out of its bag. It was a simple thing, a tapering gold metallic cylinder that she’d had for years. She took out her DVD case, flipped through the movies, until she found her Fencing Duels compilation DVD. She put this into her laptop and started it.

Then, relaxing once more against the bunched pillows, with her feet drawn up so her knees were akimbo, she turned on the vibrator and applied it between her legs. For a few seconds she rubbed it up and down, up and down, then side to side, spreading the lips of her clitoris apart, getting things lubricated. But it had been a long time since she’d pleasured herself in this way, and she knew it wouldn’t be long.

So she relaxed, and just pressed the barrel of the vibrator up against her clitoris. She began to feel it working its magic almost at once. The muscles in her outer thighs were tightening, and there was a fluttering sensation in her inner thighs. Then, there was a sudden feeling of heat between her legs, and then an upwelling of sheer pleasure. She could feel the contractions of pleasure, feel the warmth of it…

After the initial surge of pleasure, she lay there, eyes closed now, even as Basil Rathbone sneered at Tyrone Power and their duel began… after a few seconds the pleasure came again, warm and sweet….

Michelle sighed. Such intense pleasure…lasting so briefly.

She wiped off the vibrator and returned it to its case, watched the end of the duel with Power killing Rathbone, and then padded into the bathroom and took a long, mice hot shower, to complete the experience.

Coming out of the bathroom, she checked the time again. Just a few more hours now before she met…. Mr. Largo.