Going Undercover – Dirty Sex, Dirty Money…

Dirty money, dirty sex and rough justice…

Jo Daly certainly knows right from wrong; she is a young, pretty, professional, police detective and relishes enforcing the law and bringing the sharp sword of rough justice to an unfair world. She is 23, married and thinks she has a clear direction and purpose in her life and job.
But Jo is going undercover to expose and then close a notorious, prostitution racket run by the mercurial, dangerous, dark, ‘Mr C’, but right from the start of her investigation things are not as she expects. Quickly she is dragged, tricked and seduced into a sullied, seedy, disturbing sexual world where nothing is quite as it appears to be. and everything that she thinks she understands is called into question. In the end… Detective, Jo Daly comes to fully understand the true value of dirty sex and dirty money!
Tiggy Mills at her intricate, sizzling, sexual, sensual, interracial, perverted and twisted best!



Jo felt the powerful, forceful jets from the shower hit her skin hard and she shuddered in almost physical pleasure; her body ached from her recent run into work, the habit of exercise injected and infused her with energy and strength for the challenge of the coming day ahead.

Station 55 in New York City had a communal, large shower and wash area and she glanced across and saw one of her fellow officers, Miranda Burke, also scrubbing her lithe body after a familiar run into the precinct as she had completed.

The woman was her female colleague and partner, the only other detective of their gender on the detective squad and was a true, hard nose cop like her.

There was simply no messing about with either of them but as the young woman showered Jo noticed once again that Miranda had an understated, gentle femininity that she sensed somewhat lacking in herself.

Her eyes casually, privately, coveted and admired her body, it was slim, lean but definitely shapely and womanly; her breasts were small but perfectly plump and well-formed and her slender legs went all of the way up to her waist leaving a delicate blonde neatly trimmed down of pubic hair between the firm, toned thighs.

Jo noticed a small number 24 tattooed into her soft, white flesh on her backside and being the polite lady she was, never asked her about it but was always intrigued to know what it represented.

She presumed perhaps it was a mere, forgotten, drunken episode of her past or perhaps the fact that more and more women felt the need to randomly decorate or mark their bodies nowadays

However Jo Daly was smart and intelligent and liked to know and be aware of everything, so any little detail like that always made her interested and curious and played on her ever inquisitive and active mind.

They left the large, multi-headed, somewhat grubby, shower area together, grabbed some rough towels and began the process of rubbing themselves dry and the blonde Miranda stared at her and smiled expectantly.

“Big day today, Jo!”

It was not a question more a statement of fact and Jo shivered, as if for effect, and brushed the coarse towel vigorously on her back and shoulders, providing some massage along with the basic drying process.

“Sure is, Mirry!”

That was the pet and clipped title for her friend; all the guys on the force had short, sharp, edgy names and the two of them did not wish to be any different.

The woman took a pair of special, black knickers from a transparent box on a nearby shelf and gently passed them to her companion; Jo quickly let her fingers run over the material and find the tiny transmitter hidden in the lined gusset of the crotch as Miranda murmured quietly and reassuringly to her.

“Don’t worry, Jo…we’ll be able to hear everything…and we can get you straight out of there at the first sign of any trouble!”

Jo was no longer wet now and the slipped this underwear over her ankles and drew the basic clothing snugly around her defined mound and was pleased, given the dangerous nature of her assignment today, to have the protection it gave her and that it was undoubtedly undetectable as it was so miniscule and minute.

Her mind recalled all of the banter she had received from her predominantly male, other police officers, who had teased and needled her endlessly with chants of, “They’ll never find a wire in there, Jo… I mean who would be brave enough to enter such an unknown, precarious, dangerous area!”

She laughed just to fit in but the thing was that, Jo unfortunately had a reputation of being cool and aloof almost to the point of frigidity, and her reputation in the station on even on these tough streets where she worked was the, Ice Queen!

Her pride and sensibilities liked and disliked the name tag in equal measure as, although it represented dedication and a no nonsense approach, Jo felt it was somehow and most definitely underserved; indeed she was a married woman and had a normal sex life!

Well that was not strictly true; she had never told anyone but Miranda who was something of a confidante and a best friend as well as a partner, how bad normal marital, physical and dare she admit, sexual relations were with her podgy, listless husband.

Jo wondered why she ever married Derry and certainly by now should have been divorced from him but in reality and all honesty, she never seemed to have the time to deal with such practical matters as all of her energies went directly into her job.

Her hands shook herself from such indulgent, introspection and thoughts; she had no such time for either this morning and she quickly slipped around her waist a tight, tan, mid length skirt, a beige silk top and a sharp, fawn jacket, a pair of suede high heeled shoes and stared at her refection in the stained, cracked and almost intrusive, large, revealing mirror.

Her refection was strangely alluring; she was only 23, dark haired, slim, attractive with a curved, and she felt, unspectacular shape, but she was reasonably pleased that she still had something appealing and attractive about her.

She would need it today!


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