Nancy stretched her legs wide to either side of her pink bedspread as the fingers of her right hand found their way through the tangle of blonde down that covered her mons Venus. Meanwhile, she grazed her torso with the nails and fingertips of her left hand. She ran her hand in a circuit from her hip, up to her tummy, between her small breasts, to her neck, then down along her rip cage back to its origin. Goosebumps trailed her fingers.

All the while she thought of Thomas Crowley, her father’s newest client. Nancy didn't have any idea why older men turned her on so much. Unlike most things in her life, she was reluctant to pursue the mystery. But, that forty-something assuredness, the fatherly attention, and the penetrating look older men often gave her, invariably combined to make Nancy wet.

Thomas Crowley was especially attractive. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with deep, dark eyes. His hair matched his eyes except for the gray at his temples. He had a way of looking at her, with a slight, knowing smile, that somehow seemed to say, “Strip.”

Nancy’s right fingers began to press harder and move faster against the little man in her quickly flooding boat. Her left hand concentrated on one of her breasts. She cupped what little flesh she had and pinched the turgid nipple.

“Mmm,” Nancy murmured, “Oh, Thomas, we shouldn't.” She was imagining visiting Mr. Crowley at his home. Her hands worked her body as she wished Thomas might, as if he was reaching under her dress to fondle her. She leapt to imagine being naked with him, pressing against one of his soft Italian suits.

A contraction began to build within her. Nancy pulled her legs up, and put both hands to work on her sopping pussy. She was close now, so close.

“Nancy. Nancy!” her father called from downstairs. “Nancy,” he called again, now closer. Tap, tap. He rapped on the door.

Nancy rolled from her bed, pulling the bedspread around her nakedness.

“Yes, Father? I’m…I'm dressing. Don't come in!” Nancy answered, trying to suppress a shriek.

“Yes, Dear. But, Tom Crowley is downstairs. He has some new information, and I think we could use your investigative talents. Come down to the study as soon as you are dressed.”

Nancy breathlessly pulled on a button-front dress, brushed her hair, and put on some lipstick before rushing downstairs.

She sat in one of her father's leather wingback chairs as Mr. Crowley explained his situation. Nancy smiled to herself as she realized that Thomas was as distracted by her bare knee sticking out beneath the buttons of her dress as she was distracted by his handsome face. Mr. Crowley explained that his senile father, Edward Crowley, had been taken over by the Topham family. In his debilitated state, the Tophams, relatives of the senior’s deceased wife, had moved into his mansion.

“At first, I was actually pleased,” Thomas said. “I was glad he had people to watch over the house and the staff. He’d always resisted myself or my sister’s efforts to help him. But, after a short while, the Topham clan made it harder and harder for us to see Dad. Worse, they changed doctors so Dad’s longtime physician and friend, Dr. Carter, couldn’t see him at all.”

Nancy crossed and uncrossed her legs as she followed Mr. Crowley’s story. She was still wet from her digitinteruptus, and listening to Tom’s baritone voice wasn’t lessening the rivulet between her legs.

“Anyway, it all came to a head in the last few days. The Tophams made an elaborate exercise of announcing that Dad had changed his will. They have a document they claim Dad signed that leaves everything — the house, the grounds, the yacht, everything, to them!” Thomas finished with a clenched fist pounding into the arm of his chair.

“Well, pardon me, Mr. Crowley, but if that’s what he wants, what can be done?” Nancy asked.

“That’s just it,” Crowley answered. “I’m quite confident that is not what Dad wants. On one of my last visits with him, he told me in a whisper that he had made handwritten notes on the original will and placed it in one of his African art pieces. The Tophams say Dad is too sick to see anyone. I say they want to shut him up, and they for sure don't want anyone to find that other will.”

Nancy enjoyed Mr. Crowley’s passionate anger. She thought she’d quite like to be lying underneath that snarl. The image of Tom gripping her neck while thrusting into her with deep strokes and growling that she was a “bad girl,” flashed across her mind. She shook her head to banish it.

“So, let me guess,” Nancy said with a slight smile as she glanced back and forth between her father and Crowley, “You want me to get into that house, check on your Dad, and find that will.”

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Thomas said.

Mmm, yeah, you will, Nancy thought.

~

Nancy knew the Topham sisters from high school. They were Irish twins. Sarah was an incoming senior at River Heights High, the same as Nancy. She had raven-colored hair with eyes to match and was actually quite pretty, though not particularly popular. She ran track and starred on the field hockey team, but her tomboy ways kept her an outsider.

Janet, the elder, was similarly dark and pretty. Nancy recalled Janet being popular — nominated for homecoming queen, in fact — but that an accusation that she may have been involved with the disappearance of cash from the Student Council kitty caused her to finish school under a cloud.

Nancy trumped up a reason to visit the Crowley house and the Topham sisters. She would go door to door selling tickets to the River Heights Garden Club Ball and Raffle. It was the biggest event of the season, and Nancy thought at least the image-conscious elder sister would be tempted.

Nancy approached a couple of houses for appearances and then walked up the long flagstone path to the Crowley house. The heels of her black pumps clicked on the walkway, her powder blue A-line dress swished, and her heartbeat rang in her ears as she nervously reached for the ornate door knocker.

After knocking twice and waiting long enough that Nancy considered sneaking around back to peek in a rear window, the large black door creaked open. Peering at her were the coal-black eyes of Sarah Topham.

“Oh, hey,” Sarah said with a curious tilt of her head. “What are you doing here?”

“Hi, Sarah,” Nancy feigned confusion. “I thought this was Mr. Crowley’s house. I’m selling tickets to the Garden Club event. He’s always been a big supporter.”

“Um…we…our family…take care of him now. I don’t think he’s in any shape to buy anything today,” Sarah awkwardly explained.

“I see,” Nancy responded. “Would your parents want to buy some raffle tickets? Would you and Janet want to go to the Ball?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Janet loves that crap,” she said, opening the door and waving Nancy in. Sarah was in cut-off dungarees and a tight white t-shirt. She kept her eyes fixed on Nancy as she called to her sister. “Janet!”

Nancy stepped into the large foyer. Sarah turned and padded in bare feet across the tile floor toward a large sitting room. She waved for Nancy to follow, who dutifully clicked behind.

Sarah sat on a sofa and curled her fit, tan legs under her. She followed Nancy closely with her eyes as she sat across from her. “Janet!” Sarah called again. “She’ll take her sweet time.”

“What about your parents?” Nancy asked, scanning the room for any African artifacts that matched Thomas’s description.

“They’re up at Old Man Crowley’s cabin on the Lake,” Sarah answered as she hungrily looked Nancy up and down. “They leave the dirty work to us.”

“Is it difficult? Taking care of Mr. Crowley?” Nancy asked with growing anxiety.

“I guess it’s not that bad. He sleeps most of the time. Janet and I have the run of the place,” Sarah said, her stern face suddenly brightening. “The old guy has a really nice pool. Want to take a dip? You must be hot from walking.”

“Oh, um, I don’t know. I mean I don’t have a bathing suit or anything,” Nancy answered wondering if she would need to accept the offer in order to have an excuse to look around.

“You won’t need one, blondie,” Sarah said with a mischievous smile. “I never wear one. Feels great just being naked. You’ll love it.”

“Who do we have here?” Nancy heard from the foyer. She turned to see Janet stride in. Unlike her casually dressed sister, Janet was in a striking red dress and matching heels. She was wearing pearl earrings and a double-strand pearl necklace. I bet those pearls belonged to the late Mrs. Crowley, Nancy thought to herself.

“Yeah, Nancy Drew here is selling tickets to the Garden Club Ball. Seems right up your alley, Little Miss Society. She needs some cash. How much tits— I mean toots?” Sarah teased, getting bolder every minute.

“Raffle tickets are ten dollars a piece. Ball tickets are twenty-five,” Nancy explained.

“Hmmm. Let me see what we have on hand,” Janet said.

“Great! Now how about that dip, Nancy?” Sarah asked again.

“Oh, I need to inquire at several more houses. How about this instead? You give me a tour of the house and show me that pool, while your sister gathers up her generous donation,” Nancy offered. Sarah beamed while her sister pursed her lips with suspicion.

Sarah led Nancy through the expansive house, taking care to grasp Nancy’s hand, or gently touch her lower back, as she did so. Nancy now fully understood Sarah’s intentions. How far will I have to go for this case? she wondered. Sarah slid open a pair of pocket doors.

“This used to be the billiard room, but my parents converted it to Mr. Crowley’s sick room. That way, we don’t have to go up and down stairs all the time.” Sarah narrated their tour. Nancy nodded as she peeked in and tried to catch Ed Crowley’s eye. He was out cold.

Sarah made one last effort to get Nancy naked as they reached the pool. “Just a quick plunge. No one needs to know, but you and I,” Sarah winked.

“I have heard that Mr. Crowley has a very large collection of African art and artifacts,” Nancy deflected once more.

Sarah sighed in resignation. “Yeah, all that weird shit is in the library,” she said as she hooked an arm around Nancy’s waist.

~

Nancy and Sarah walked into the library arm in arm. The room had twelve-foot ceilings and was more like a museum than a library. In addition to countless books, there were diverse artistic pieces from all over the world. A wall was devoted exclusively to Africa. Nancy’s eyes darted from piece to piece, searching for the item that Thomas Crowley thought held the authentic last will and testament.

He said that the artifact was made from black rhinoceros horn. It was a black, slightly bowed, hollow cylinder about ten inches long and two inches around. It sat on a bulbous base that had openings through which a sash made of leopard fur ran as if it were some kind of a belt. When he had described it, Nancy was confident she would easily identify it. But, now, at this moment, she felt hopeless. Amidst the many masks, ornate clubs, colorful baskets, and carvings were a number of objects that looked a bit like what Thomas Crowley had described, if smaller and of a different color.

At last, Nancy eyed it. She worked her way toward it as casually as possible, knowing that Sarah’s oversexed eyes were unlikely to leave her even for a second.

“Sarah,” Nancy said. “Do you think your sister would find us in here?”

“Find us? Are we hiding?” Sarah asked with thirsty curiosity.

“Hiding…a kiss,” Nancy said with a nervous smile.

Sarah looked momentarily stunned, then gleefully turned and skipped toward the door. At that moment, Nancy sprang toward the object. She picked it up and looked underneath. Nothing. Then she inserted two fingers past the leopard skin sash and into the large cavity. There! There it is!

Nancy pulled a scroll of thick paper from the cylinder and quickly crumpled it into the pocket of her dress.

“I threw the latch. That will slow Janet down. Though, if she really wants to get in here, she can use any of the half dozen skeleton keys Old Man Crowley has strewn ar—.” Sarah stopped abruptly as she turned to see Nancy holding a Nubian ceremonial dong. “Oh yeah! Blondie wants way more than a kiss! Fuck yes, let’s get to it!”

Sarah whipped off her T-shirt and dropped her shorts, revealing a pair of perky tits and an all-over tan. Nancy stood stock still, as the nude girl bounded to her, her short dark bob bouncing in rhythm with her erect nipples. The athletic lesbian was upon Nancy in seconds. Nancy’s first instinct was to protect the will in her pocket. Her second instinct was to not drop what she supposed was a priceless artifact. Her third instinct would have been to fend off the fiery Sapphist, but Nancy was too late.

Before Nancy fully realized what was happening, Sarah’s lips were on her own, and her dress was unzipped. Just as suddenly, the black piece was removed from her hands, and the dress was around her ankles. Sarah pulled Nancy to the oriental rug beneath their feet. Sarah proved quite adept. She touched and stroked Nancy with firm but knowledgeable hands. Against her conscious will, Nancy responded to Sarah’s touch such that she returned Sarah’s kisses with equal intensity. Sarah pinned Nancy to the floor, pressing her hands above her, as she ground against Nancy’s silk-covered mound. Nancy groaned into Sarah’s mouth as the pleasure built within her. Sarah unclipped Nancy’s garter and pulled her panties over her long legs.

“Now I’ll give you what you were after in the first place,” Sarah growled as she wrapped the leopard skin around her waist. It’s a cock! And you call yourself a detective, Nancy laughed to herself when she realized what the ancient artifact was and how Sarah intended to use it. Sarah nuzzled Nancy’s blonde puss, parted her down with her nose and fingers, and then proceeded to lick Nancy’s lips and nub! Nancy had never felt anything like it. Not with her own fingers. Not with her bedpost. Not with her teddy bear. And certainly not with the clumsy efforts of her boyfriend, Ned. Sarah’s tongue was replaced by fingers and then, at last, by the Nubian she-cock.

Nancy had truly never been with a woman before, and hardly any men. There was Ned, of course, and the PE coach, the Dean of Students, a couple of her Dad’s clients, those guys under the grandstand at the Fair, and the lifeguard at the pool. But, truly, hardly anymore. She surely had never had anything as thick or as long as the cool chunk of black ivory that plowed her, now. Sarah liked it rough and Nancy began to realize she might, too. Sarah fucked Nancy deep, hard, and fast, all the while mixing in a smattering of slapping, biting, and choking. Nancy convulsed in orgasm suddenly and uncontrollably. She screamed out as she arched off the rug. Sarah pushed Nancy back down and continued her glorious pounding.

Nancy was far too distracted to hear Janet call Sarah from outside the library or her fiddling with the latch. Indeed, she didn’t notice anything other than Sarah’s powerful fucking until Janet was standing over the both of them.

“Ha! Well, who would have known?! Prissy, stuck-up, Nancy Drew has a submissive dyke inside her!” Janet said with a sneering laugh. And with that, Janet stood astride Nancy’s head, raised her skirt, and squatted directly onto Nancy’s grimaced face.

All Nancy saw was a flash of the red fabric of Janet’s dress, followed by the dark hair of her pussy. She was all but blind after that. She sensed the softness of Janet’s thighs, her musky fragrance, and the briny, tangy flavor. Nancy struggled to breathe as Janet ground against her mouth and nose. She was horrified, but also strangely excited. Nancy heard both girls groan to a finish as they used her the same way she used her teddy bear at home.

Nancy lay sprawled on the library floor, too stunned and exhausted to move. Janet tossed some bills onto Nancy’s still-heaving torso.

“Here you go, Nancy Drew. See you at the Ball. Now get out.”

~

Nancy got the original will back to her father and Thomas Crowley right away. Mr. Drew made the case to a judge, and within a few weeks, the Tophams were out of the senior Crowley’s house, and Mr. Crowley was in a proper doctor’s care. Once he was off whatever drug concoction they had been giving him, Mr. Crowley confirmed what his son had suspected. He had been under duress the whole time. The Tophams were charged with kidnapping, extortion, theft, and forgery. They would be going away for a long time. When the charges were filed, Thomas Crowley offered to take Nancy to dinner to celebrate.

Nancy could barely contain her excitement. She wore her sexiest black cocktail dress with matching lace lingerie underneath for luck. Thomas looked every bit the sexy older man she desperately wanted.

“I just can’t thank you enough, Nancy,” Thomas said, raising a glass of wine to her. “My father is safe, because of you.”

Nancy reached out and touched Tom’s hand, letting it linger just as she let her eyes linger on his.

“Oh, Thomas. I’m so happy everything has worked out,” she said with a humble, embarrassed smile.

“I was scared for you. Going into that house with the Tophams there. I swear if they had hurt you in any way, I would have stormed in there and made them pay,” Thomas said with bravado.

“I know you would have, Tom,” Nancy said, now gripping his hand. “When I did get scared, I thought of you.”

These were the tried and true methods of feminine seduction, of course. The touching of the arm or hand, reflecting men’s inflated opinions of themselves, laughing at their jokes, prolonged eye contact with a shy double blink tossed in at the end.

In this case, Nancy’s use of the female quiver of desire was not to make herself more attractive to Thomas. She knew full well that nearly all men desired her youthful, lithe, blonde body. Rather, it was to lower Thomas’s armor of propriety. It was to assure him that the eighteen-year-old beauty in front of him was open and eager for his advances.

His defenses fell away as she hoped they would. An hour later, they were necking in Thomas’s Cadillac. Twenty minutes after that, they were in Crowley’s spacious office, and Nancy was bent over his tufted leather couch, taking his cock with well-satisfied grunts. His was a delightful cock, if not quite the African super-schlong that had filled her weeks earlier. While he was giving her a fine fucking, Nancy could not turn off her skilled manipulation. A fine fuck could become a great fuck. after all.

“Oh my, God, Tom. This is so good! I’ve never felt like this before,” she babbled as a perfectly run-of-the-mill orgasm began to build. Her encouragement had the desired effect as Tom thrust harder and faster, and he gripped her garter-clad hips more tightly. That did it, as Nancy groaned out her orgasm and her tunnel squeezed Tom’s thrusting member.

Nancy sensed that Tom would soon fill her. “I need your beautiful thing in my mouth, Tom!” Nancy screamed. She wanted his cock and his seed, that was true. She also wanted him to come back for more. And she most definitely did not want an extended trip to the home for unwed mothers.

Nancy twisted and fell to her knees as Thomas pulled out. She took his glistening member between her lips, relishing the briny taste and the feeling of his smooth head against her tongue and palate.

“My god, Nancy, you’re better than any escort in the city!” Tom groaned. He meant it as a compliment, and Nancy took it that way as she sucked his thick staff into her throat as if to underline his point. She looked up at Tom with hungry blue eyes. In false submission, she dominated him, teasing him to the edge and then backing off. Her expert tongue flicked when and where he least expected it, and her small fist pumped him as she worked his bulbous head. She moaned desperate, yummy sounds, begging for his issue without words.

At last, Thomas could take no more. He grabbed Nancy’s cornsilk hair, as if he were in charge, and exploded exactly when Nancy wanted him to. She happily swallowed his oyster down as Thomas groaned his primal satisfaction.

They lay entangled on the leather sofa. Nancy’s long legs stretched out along the couch. Somehow, she retained both a flawless stocking and shoe on her right leg, while the hose on her left was torn to shreds, and her pump was nowhere to be found. They caught their breath.

“Thomas,” Nancy said after a long silence. “Do you have access to your father’s African artifacts, now?”

“Oh yes,” Thomas answered. “I do. Thanks to you, my dear. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason,” Nancy sighed.