Series: Kung Fu – The Legend Continues
Summary: This order went wrong
Disclaimer: The characters in this story don’t belong to me. I only borrowed them for some fun. No moneymaking, no violation of copyrights are intended. The story is mine and it is just fanfiction. If you are under age, please stay away. If you have a problem with this topic, then look elsewhere for your entertainment. English is not my native language, so please be patient with my mistakes. Thanks to Lady Charna for the beta. For all remaining errors, blame me.
"Hi, Sweety, may I buy you a drink?"
Henry Blake stared at the leather gloved hand which had been put onto his naked thigh with these words and sighed inwardly. Was he the only interesting guy in this bar, so that everybody had to flirt with him? At least it seemed so to him. He sat now here on the barstool for almost two hours - a more than uncomfortable venture with his scarce skirt - and nursed a single drink. After all he was on duty. Unfortunately.
He had enough of it, honestly. He was tired and hungry, his feet hurt in this damn pumps and the only thing he wanted to do was slipping out this uncomfortable clothes and into his beloved suit, but duty was duty.
Since two weeks, a gang terrorised the bars in Chinatown. Four had already been attacked and robbed. Even if everything had gone off without victims till now - thank God of course - the mayor wished results and therefore the commissioner and Captain Simms, too. And if they couldn’t find the gangsters, they should at least present a trace to them soon. But till now unfortunately even Peter Caine’s best informer Donny Double-D hadn't been able to provide the slightest hint. If nothing else occurred, there was only one thing they could still do: Visiting any bar around in the hope that one of them would be at the right place in the right time. If they couldn’t get the perpetrators alone they at least might be able to provide a useably description of them with which they could further. Till now, unfortunately, whether the robbed bar visitors nor the staff hat noticed anything useful.
One may think to be the whole evening in a bar on payment of the police would be the purest pleasure. But that was wrong. Particularly for Henry Blake. Of course he had got the well-known transvestite bar again. Because he always would make such a good figure at undercover operations in dress Chief Strenlich had said ambiguously and grinned significantly at this. So Henry already wondered if he perhaps suspected something about his true sexual preferences. He usually would not have the slightest objection against the company of other men, but not these transvestites, please. He preferred real guys. Such like Frank, but he unfortunately was obviously hopelessly heterosexual. Besides Henry really could do without this whole make up stuff. And it was hard to flirt and enjoy while one had to watch the whole bar and the guests attentively at once.
Therefore he also wanted to turn down the current offer like the others this evening as he looked up and realised who was standing in front of him: Frank Strenlich in person and in a skin-tight leather outfit. Henry suddenly felt very hot and he mumbled his consent.
Frank waved his hands to the bartender. "For me a double whiskey and for my friend here (he winked toward Blake) the same once more." Blake would also have preferred a proper drink instead of this coloured cocktail - he even couldn't remember what one he had originally ordered an eternity before like it seemed to him - but this didn't match with his role as transvestite. Therefore he obediently sipped from the glass which the bartender - a small type in glitter - had put in front of him.
He just wanted to ask Frank, who to his knowledge had a day off today, why he had come into the bar, if perhaps there were new developments in the case - perhaps the colleagues had learned that this bar would be the next aim and Strenlich had come to his aid – as suddenly Strenlich bent to Henry's ear, his hand again on the thigh: "What’s your name, Sweety?"
Henry stopped the words in his throat and thought feverishly about that. Either Frank considered it necessary to be particularly careful with their interaction and to make sure not to give the slightest hint that they knew each other or he really hadn't recognised him. It occurred to Henry that Strenlich hadn't seen him in his disguise at all as he had not been on the precinct then. Did he really take him for a woman? No, impossible. He had to know what kind of a bar this was. In addition his hand just ran into something under the skirt which would left no doubt about the gender of his owner.
"Henriette," Blake breathed because nothing better occurred to him so quickly.
"A beautiful name for a beautiful woman," Frank whispered and nibbled tenderly at Henry's ear while his hand stroked Henry’s member under his silken slip.
Blake felt even hotter, as far as this was still possible. What was this all about? Did Strenlich, happy -- or in his opinion rather sadly -- divorced father of three children actual flirt with him in a transvestite bar or had he just set his eyes upon the first best transvestite who coincidental happened to be him? Henry was confused and he knew very well he wouldn't be able to control himself if Frank stroked him further and continued to suck tenderly at his neck. He already felt his cock getting stiff.
"I’m Blake," he whispered, being sure Frank would immediately abandon him.
But on the contrary, Franks stroking became even more intensive. "I know," he whispered. “…and I have come to make your evening a bit sweeter."
He abandoned Blake, jumped off the barstool and pulled the other one with him. “Come,” he said and hurried into the direction of the back of the bar. Frank opened a door which led to a walk from which one could enter several small rooms. Blake briefly wondered why his supervisor knew so much around this bar, however he followed him dumbly. Frank entered one of the rooms and locked the door.
Henry looked briefly around. An armchair, a little table, on which various "toys" stood and an ottoman were the only pieces of furniture. The light was dimmed. Frank already had his trousers opened and gripped to Henry's slip to pull it down. He then indicated Henry to bend over the armchair and to shove up his skirt.
"You don't know how long I have wanted your sexy ass,” Frank breathed and grasped a tube from the table. "You want it too, don’t you"?
Blake only could nod, Franks impressive manhood had left him speechless. Frank didn't give a thought to a foreplay, he just lubricated himself, then went straight behind Blake.
"I’m going to fuck you so that you never want another men again," he whispered into Henry's ear as he penetrated him.
Blake moaned and believed to hear bells and sirens wailing as Frank started immediately to pump into him. It take a while until he realised that the noises didn’t ring in his head but were real. "Frank, the alarm," he whispered.
But Strenlich was so much lost into their act that Blake had to repeat it two more times till he heard him. "Which alarm?" Frank asked and pumped further.
Blake moaned. "The attack. It must be the attack."
"Damn!" Strenlich left him from one moment to the other and dragged his trousers up. "How the hell shall we explain this to the captain?”