The Shadow, (tripleX)

[ariosto]

http://www.ariosto.homestead.com/files/shadow.jpg


OOC:

Lamar Cranston, near-do-well scion of a fantastically rich family of New York nabobs, had lived the kind of wild and licentious life that many would have envied during the hedonistic ‘roaring twenties’. Then came the great crash and in the face of the rapidly vanishing Cranston fortune, his mother and father took the easy way out and both were found dead on a chilly January morning in their Park Avenue penthouse.
Young Cranston rushed home from his sybaritic life as a Yale grad student to bury his parents and consolidate what was left of the dynasty’s millions.
There wasn’t much.
Seeing first hand what avarice could come to and facing the gray hopeless landscape of the deepening depression, Lamar underwent an epiphany of sorts. He sold everything that was left and journeyed to the Far East to seek enlightenment, free from the fetters of materialism.
He all but disappeared for five long years.

When he returned it was with a burning drive to fight greed and injustice, violence and crime. He had with him a powerful, no an unbelievable weapon, for in those years so far from home he had learned to MAKE HIMSELF INVISIBLE!

Incredible as it seems we can hear first hand the testimony of Cranston’s long time friend and fiancé Margo Lane;

"When Lamar pawned our engagement ring and disappeared I was devastated. I gave up my act at Minsky’s (Miss Lane was a headliner in the Exotic Dance department) and decided to go back to school.
I was working on my PHD at Vassar in Criminal Justice and engaged to Senator Buddy Frisch when Lamar returned one night VERY unexpectedly.
The Senator and I had just finished…uhhhh...
Well we had just finished.
And I was standing in my kitchen wearing my big terry cloth robe, the dusky rose one, when all of a sudden I felt warm hands on my body, just all over the place, and then my gown was jerked off and I screamed because nobody was there!
The Senator came running into the room and here I am, spread out across the kitchen table like a hot cross bun!
Then I hear a voice in my ear…”It’s me, Margo…Lamar.”
And I feel something slip on my finger and it’s …it’s the engagement ring!"
(Miss Lane pauses to wipe tears from her eyes, and catches her breath.)

"Well, next thing you know, there he is in the flesh, lying right on top of me. Poor Senator Frisch, keeled over right there with a heart attack. You can read it in the papers.
Anyway Lamar and I have been together ever since.

And together they stayed, through the halcyon days of heady success as the Nation’s top crime fighting duo, breaking up gangs of racketeers, racks of gangsters, white slavery rings and bringing murderers, arsonists, thieves, pickpockets and jaywalkers to the scales of justice with almost supernatural ease. It was all too wonderful to last!
And it didn’t.

Lamar’s dependence on booze increased in step with his own success.
Margo tried repeatedly to warn him that a crash was coming and when it did it fell like a sledgehammer!

THE SHADOW CONVICTED OF MULTIPLE COUNTS OF INDECENT EXPOSURE!
The headline read.

In order to exercise his arcane skill of invisibility it was necessary for Cranston to be naked. But when in his cups, four sheets to the wind and snockered so to speak, he often was unable to hold to his shadowy cloak and increasingly embarrassing exposures of his nude and often tumescent 'privates' began to multiply, finally coming to a head in Jean Harlow’s dressing room, where Lamar had no business at all.

A year in the slammer cured him of the drinking habit but didn’t rehabilitate him in the eyes of a disillusioned public. When he was released all that was left was his tattered ‘gift’ and the ever loyal Margo Lane.

Opening a storefront private investigation service on the seedy lower east side they began the slow process of recovery. Handling two bit divorce cases for the most part, for with Cranston’s skill, he was hard to beat in the adultery department.


NEEDED! one creative lady to play Margo Lane and all other femmes who appear in our story. I will play all male roles.
I'm looking for someone with a good sense of humor and a lusty imagination.
I am not a rapid fire poster so if you can commit to a few posts a week that's great.
Please PM me if you're interested.
thanks, Ari






IC:

The story begins;

He was sitting at his desk one cold Sunday morning, his worn shoes propped up, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand when Margo burst in.
It was amazing that she still looked like the girl he’d met fifteen years ago. Jean Harlow was nothing compared to her…

“Lamar!…have you heard the news?!
The Japs have bombed Pearl Harbor!”
She was brimming over with excitement.

“I’m too old to enlist baby and I don’t think I’d look good in khaki’s”

She stamped her foot.
“No! Don’t you see? This could be our ticket back to the Big Time!”

 

[Lady_Kit]

Lamar looked unimpressed by the opportunity before them.

“Big Time?” He questioned, raising one brow in that sexy way he had.

“Yes, The Big Time…just like the old days. You remember how it was when the mayor called us in to help stamp out the Shoe Horn gang on the south side, when we could get a table at 21 just by flashing the maître d' a smile and a ten spot, when I could go into a decent store and buy myself a new nightie without wondering if we could make the rent.”

Margo was not a vain or materialistic woman by nature, but she enjoyed the creature comforts, and the way that Lamar reacted to a new nightie. Times had been hard since her man got out of the slammer. The War seemed like a great way to get them back on their feet.

If Margo had learned anything at Minskys’ (and she’d learned a lot both on stage and off!) she’d learned how to seize the moment. That was, after all, how she became the headliner. One minute a chorus girl, then Little Egypt gets knocked on her keester by an elephant that she was trying out for a new act, and Margo Lane is center stage. Oh, those were the days! But the moment would pass them by if she couldn’t get Lamar to see things her way.

“Lamar,” she purred as she pushed aside his size 12s and settled her bottom on the corner of his desk.

“I know things have been hard for us since you got out, but this could be a real chance to get back on top…and you know how you love to be on top.”

The double entendre was emphasized by a little flutter of the sooty lashes surrounding her big blue eyes.

“With those sneaky Japs on the attack, our country will need men like you. Men who can find out things, do undercover work,”

Margo slapped at Lamars’ hand as it tried to do some “underskirt work” and gave him a stern look.

“New nighties? Hmmm….you might have something there Margo. I’ll give it some thought.”

 

[ariosto]

Cranston sat up straight.
You're kidding right?

Now I'm not, turn on the radio..go ahead.

Uhhhh, that's okay I believe you.
He'd pawned the radio yesterday.


Wow!
The Japs attacked Pearl Harbor, that was BIG news.
But how would be the best way to profit from it and serve the country...of course.

He laid his hand on Margo's pretty knee and pondered, he pondered a lot these days.

So?

Her eyes were bright with possibilities that were alluding him at the moment.

So, Lamar what do you think?


About being on top again? It's awfully early Margo, maybe after brunch.
He grinned, fingers started walking.

You're Hopeless Cranston, this is news, BIG NEWS, just think about it for goodness sakes!
She slid off the desk and walked to the greasy window, the strangely empty
streets of Metropolis spread out below.

I miss the old life Lamar. I'm tired of living like a bum.

I like your bum, Margo. It's one of your best features.

The telephone book flew at him, he dodged it easily, there'd a lot of practice lately.

Okay, okay. I know a guy at the War Department, maybe he'll remember us. I can give him a call and see what he's got.
Cranston reached for the receiver and suddenly found a very frisky Margo in his lap.

Oh' Lamar I love you! This will be like old times, won't it?.

He squeezed her boobs and chuckled

Yeah baby, like old times.

 

[Lady_Kit]

Margo wiggled a little, letting Lamar know she enjoyed the way he responded to having her on his lap, and the way he handled her melons. But, lately, with no business coming in they’d spent too many afternoons playing hide the salami and as fun as that was it didn’t pay the bills. Much as she hated to be all business, they needed work. With a sigh of regret, Margo moved back to the edge of the desk so Lamar could make his call.

“Now what?” He asked with a confused look. “I was just getting my hands warmed up.”

“Yes you were, and the heat was coming all the way through my dress.”

Margo brushed her hands over the tight bodice, smoothing out the fabric before permanent creases marred the front of her second best frock.

“Now, you just go ahead and call that nice man from the War Department.”

“Then can I play with your boobs some more?”

Lamar leered at her and wiggled his hands comically in front of her size D breasts.

“Baby,” Margo whispered in her most sultry voice, “you get us some work with the Big Wigs at the War Department,” she leaned forward, giving him a view of the pale mounds of flesh struggling to break out of a black lace bra, “and you can play with anything you want.”

Lamar pulled the phone to the edge of the desk and started dialing.

“Leave it to me, Margo, we’ll be on the trail of those dirty Japs by sundown!”

 

[ariosto]

When he finally hung up on the assistant to the assistant undersecretary of the Civil War Battlefield Preservation Committee of the US War Department, snow flurries were falling in the evening dusk, Margo was passed out on the cracked leather sofa and Lamar in addition to realizing that his stock in the nation's capitol had disappeared with Wendall Wilkie, knew he was facing a phone bill from Hell

Damn the Japs anyway!
Weren't Nazi's enough for chrissake!

Walking over to the window where the few cars on Manhattan's frozen Sunday evening streets were bleating mournfully he could not help but pause by Margo's sleeping form and gently unbutton her blouse, slip her lacey French bra, a Christmas present two years ago as he recalled, over the ripe upward curves of her wonderful tits and kneeling protectively beside her, suck the hell out of them.
Margo's nipples beat her eyes to the wide awake position by half a second.

"Lamar!"

"Yummm", he said, tongue lapping at the stiffening cherry tops.

Margo considered a quick punch in the nose but this was rather pleasant afterall.

"Gee, I guess it must be really good news to make you so horny...

Lamar darlingr, your fading."

And indeed caught up in the moment, his clothes halfway off Cranston was slowly beginning to disappear.