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The Pole

By: insidious



It had all begun with a trip to her parents’ anniversary celebration, which she normally avoided. Her cousin had left without her date that night. He'd been so self-assured, and she'd been drawn to his confidence, which she lacked herself. They seemed to compliment each other perfectly, each filling in for the other's deficiencies. Around him, she didn't have to be such a control freak, because her imperfections were ignored in favor of her better aspects.

Six months later....

Jennifer was wishing she'd never met Kevin in the first place. Most girls broke up with their boyfriends due to forgotten birthdays and anniversaries, or having affairs. Half of her friends had given up on men completely (until the next time they went out to the bars or just plain needed to get fucked). No, she had to be the exception. She had to be the one with the boyfriend who had counted her mistakes and embarrassments from the beginning, and later punished her for them. She had to be the one who threatened to leave when he hit her the first time, and then ended up in the hospital when he beat her to prevent her from being able to walk out the door. The one who wanted to lose control.

Kevin had been so normal until about three months ago, when Jennifer accidentally pushed the "off" button on the phone while talking to him. She gave up trying to call him back after five minutes when he didn't answer his home or cell phones. He'd forgotten his cell in his rush to head over to her apartment, barging through the door to scream abuse at her. At first she'd shouted back, saying that it was an accident, that she hadn't meant to hang up on him. But when he slapped her, she was shocked into silence for long enough that she took him a little bit more seriously when he threatened to kill her if she tried to leave him. She obviously hadn't taken him seriously enough, because she'd been in a coma for two days after she tried to walk out the door - driven out of her own apartment! How could she have been so stupid? And then he'd managed to get the doctors to believe that she had been robbed, and the burglar had beaten her. He had found her lying on the floor. After the first doctor berated her for trying to tell him the truth, saying that she was ungrateful for Kevin saving her life, she'd given up doing anything but agreeing. And he hadn't been happy that she'd tried to talk.

It had kept going from there. He'd moved in after a male coworker, strapped for time, suggested a lunch meeting and Kevin had seen the two of them from a distance. Claiming his trust in her was broken, he'd sworn that he needed to know she wasn't cheating on him every night that she wasn't with him. She’d indulged him when she shouldn't have. 

Then came the night when Jennifer had woken up sleepily to find she'd been tied to the bed, spread eagled. She found out later that he'd drugged her, unnecessarily enhancing her exhaustion from a horrid day at work. She hadn't thought to be suspicious then when he'd uncharacteristically made her some tea. When he took her, brutally, that night, she had still been too woozy to protest. It was the next morning, when she saw blood on 
her thighs, that she realized he hadn't bothered to see that she was wet. And at the time, she'd thought that perhaps it was her own fault, that the birth control she was on took away some of the juices that she normally would have had without it. She'd never thought that it was just one of his kinks, because she didn't know he'd had any before now. Hell, if it weren't for the marks on her wrists and ankles, she might have thought she'd imagined it entirely.

Until it happened again, and again. He'd waited a week or so between each, giving her time to heal. The rest of the time he was such a courteous lover....and she'd never been in a particularly serious relationship before. It all had seemed so normal. Oh, when he'd stopped bothering to use the drug before strapping her into the restraints, she'd protested and fought. But she hadn't wanted to seriously hurt him at the time, and because of that she'd been overpowered fairly easily. As time went on, he'd gradually become more creative. Shibari, the art of Japanese rope bondage, had always been a fascination of his, one that she'd thought was only due to the aesthetic nature of the models. With the rope criss-crossed over her breasts, surrounding them, it then wound back and forth down to her waist. She was immobilized entirely by the nylon lines holding her legs apart at the top of her thighs, mid-way down, and at her knees and ankles. And because Kevin usually caught her off guard by waking her when she was sleeping, snapping handcuffs to her wrists around one of the poles on the headboard, her protests were ignored. She'd tried screaming once, and had ended up with a black eye and a broken nose. Since then, her words had been muffled when a ring gag was shoved into her mouth after her wrists were pinned down. The dildo that snapped into place inside the ring was later replaced by his own cock.

Eventually, Jennifer had begun enjoying it to an extent. Kevin usually began licking her cunt and nibbling at her thighs after she was frozen into position, all the while fingering her, hitting her G-spot. The fact that she was unable to move frustrated her, since she couldn't even thrust her hips up to meet him when he was done playing and decided to finally fuck her. That only happened once she was begging and moaning behind the gag for him to enter her, to finish what he had started with his teasing.

Then he brought in the pain. She didn't want to be whipped or beaten. That was part of why she'd stayed in the relationship as long as she had - why risk another coma when eventually she was sure he'd get bored with her? Her own family didn't believe the truth of what had happened, saying she'd been confused by the concussion, that her memories were inaccurate. And she'd been willing to do near anything to avoid being whipped - why couldn't he have at least brought in something more gentle than a bullwhip tonight, for God's sake? She willingly would admit to herself that she was a control freak, that she secretly did want to lose control. After a while, the doubts she'd always had about herself came to the forefront when Kevin brought up all her mistakes, all her failures. It had almost seemed appropriate when he'd said that he needed to punish her for them. Yes, she had needed to learn where she had gone wrong with her decisions. It was simply negative reinforcement. And so she'd soon worn her marks - and a few scars - as proof that she was stronger and better than she had been before. But the bullwhip she feared. All the other times there had been smaller implements of pain - the paddle, the cat-o'-nine, his hand slapping her, marking her ass.

She frantically thought about what she could have done to infuriate him this badly. She'd never seen him in such a rage before. His company had been in jeopardy for some time now. Was it possible that he'd lost his job today? Or maybe that she'd run into an old friend and had spent an hour or so having coffee, so she was late getting home. She hadn't had a great day at work, but she hadn't taken it out on him, she hadn't had the chance! Maybe....oh, God, no! She glanced over at the table and saw what she'd hoped to never have seen again. She'd forgotten that she still had those pictures from the time her ex and she had decided to set the camera to take pictures every thirty seconds while they got some "exercise" together. Jennifer had thought he'd taken them with him when he had moved out. Why the hell had he left them? And why hadn't she found them before?

"We're going to be playing a little game tonight, Jennifer," he whispered in her ear. "It's called 'I get to hurt you' - and believe me, you deserve it for doing this to me." At the moment, she was handcuffed with her back to the ceiling support pole in the basement flat she had, and that was all. She'd tested the bonds earlier, but now she desperately tried to free herself to no avail. The cuffs were tighter than they'd ever been tonight, cutting deeply into her flesh even when she wasn't moving. Kevin didn't bother with the fuzzy kind, calling them weak and pointless. The steel links were usually locked into place so they couldn't get any tighter, but now he leaned over and tightened them one more notch before he inserted the key to lock them. "This is just for now, Jenny dear. We've got loads more to come. You'll be in some interesting positions tonight, and you won't get to enjoy them much." He laughed, and she shivered. This was going way too far. She hadn't agreed to any of this to begin with! She suddenly realized something that horrified her. She hadn't agreed....which meant she didn't have a safeword. And it didn't seem likely that he would honor that safeword at all even if she did.

She was still in a business suit. She'd come home after work and coffee to be seized as soon as she'd walked in the door. That first blow had dazed her enough that she'd lost the fight before it had even begun. But the knife that Kevin carried didn't bode well for the future life of her clothing. She froze as she felt the cool metal slide against her skin - Kevin wasn't bothering to be careful about not cutting her tonight. He turned her as much as her bonds would allow and strapped on the butterfly. Jennifer didn't understand. He didn't want her to enjoy tonight, but he was making sure her clit would be stimulated, that she would be dripping with anticipation of a fierce fucking to come? He released her hands and she sighed with relief as the blood rushed back with a tingling sensation. Then she came to her senses and bolted for the door.

She should have known better. By the look in his eyes, Kevin had just become even more furious, which she wouldn't have thought possible until now. Her head had snapped back when he grabbed her hair to catch her, and her neck now ached with tension. Slamming her down to the floor, his body pressed into hers as he growled, "Well, now that wasn't being a good little girl like you were supposed to be, now was it?" She felt sick when he ground his erection against her stomach. He was getting off on this, and she was only truly coming to grasp with this now, after six months. Pain - her pain - was all he had ever wanted.

He let his full weight sink onto her body as she futilely began to struggle. She was only 5'5", and he was over six feet tall. The odds were not even slightly in her favor. 

He picked her up and spun her around. She hadn't been able to see before now what was different about the pole she'd been slumped on for the past hour, and too confused and worried to pay much attention on what he was really doing. She gasped at the two thick dildos now jutting out of the pole, then looked up and saw the hook that had been added to the ceiling. Jennifer tried to look at him, questions in her eyes, but he kept her facing forward. "This is what you have to look forward to, my dear. This will be part of your punishment. How well you perform for me tonight may have a slight effect in how severe the rest of it is. But for now...." He cuffed her hands tightly again, in front of her this time, and turned to get the rest of his supplies. They were in a black bag she'd never seen before, but she didn't pay much attention to it. She was busy gauging her chances at making it to the door before he could stop her again. They weren't good. She screamed instead, hoping that someone would hear her even though the apartment above was vacant. Another bad idea. She'd been waiting to be hit, and expected the gag. She got both, but Kevin had other, different ideas for tonight.

The rope wrapped around her throat, looping until her entire neck was covered. She didn't realize she'd have to focus so much attention on breathing, and she couldn't move her head at all. He yanked out the dildo plug from the gag and forced his cock into her mouth. He started fucking her face as she gagged. Her throat couldn't expand the way it needed to for Kevin to get his full length into her comfortably. He obviously didn't care about that. Trying to breathe while giving a forced blowjob was too much for Jennifer, and she started choking. Seeing her distress, he started laughing, then began moaning and spurted into her mouth. With his dick out of her throat, she tried to gasp for breath through her nose without worrying about swallowing. When she tried to, she found she couldn't swallow at all. The ropes around her neck were too tight. Kevin laughed again, sealing her mouth with the rubber cock. "You'll just have to enjoy the taste of my cum for a while, bitch."

Kevin picked her up and placed her on a stool, attaching her cuffs to the hook in the ceiling and tying off the rope to the links. She didn't understand how she was supposed to fit onto the dildos - they were at least four inches lower, and the rope only had maybe two or three inches of slack. She inhaled quickly as he suddenly switched on the clit vibrator, bending over slightly until the tug at her throat stopped her. He took off his belt and pinned her waist to the pole, leaving it a bit loose. She started imperceptibly trying to thrust her hips against the pole, wanting more in spite of herself. 

"Good. You're getting wet." She glanced at him, wondering what the hell was going on in his mind. He moved out of sight behind her. A wet noise told her that he was likely putting lubricant on one of the dildos hovering below her now soaked pussy. He suddenly shoved two fingers inside her briefly, making her moan. It sounded like he was moving away - was he going to just leave her here?

He walked back, holding another piece of rope in his hands. "Did you think I would leave you, Jenny darling? That would have been too easy on you. You see, I ran into Jake today, and did he ever have some interesting things to tell me about your sex life. He felt very used, you see. He moved in after a month, you got a few pictures and some great sex, and you kicked him out a week later. Apparently you burnt the negatives, but hey....you forgot about the pictures. He'd been waiting to use them for blackmail at some point. I told him what my plans were for you tonight after that little revelation, and he decided that he'd give up the tame, vanilla sex pictures for some of you being punished." Her eyes bulged at him while he said this. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Jake had left her!

"Now, Jennifer, this rope around your neck is a little stretchy. Between that and the handcuffs, you shouldn't choke too much." She looked at him questioningly, since she still stood on the stool. He wouldn't do that,  would he? He couldn't! "I understand that reduced oxygen to the brain increases pleasure, anyway. Now, let's see. Since you have no choice in what I'm going to do, I have no reason to tell you. But I'll explain it anyway, since from the looks you're giving me, I can tell you don't understand the game yet." He held up the rope. "This, my dear, is going to tie your ankles together." That didn't sound so bad, she thought. "On the other side of the pole. The one without a footstool. You are going to have to try to hold yourself up as much as possible on your own. The handcuffs are as tight as they are to make it more difficult, you see. The more you slip down, the closer you get to these wonderful new friends of yours drilled into the very convenient pole you have here. They, of course, will start vibrating once they've entered you at all. Just to be a little more distracting." She had been right after all. As if this wasn't bad enough, she'd never taken anything up her ass before. He'd always left that particular hole alone....

But Kevin wasn't done talking yet. "I will, of course, put a spacer bar between your knees so you can't cling to the pole with your legs. Can't have that, now can we? And in case you don't recall, I told you that you wouldn't enjoy tonight much. I suppose you could say I lied. You will, somewhat. But for every time you cum, you'll get ten lashes. Every five minutes, you will receive five. You might try, but you won't be able to help yourself once you start cumming. Your body will relax after the first orgasm, and you won't be able to hold yourself up as well anymore. You'll have to let the dildos take your full weight." His eyes had been roaming up and down her body all the while he talked, and now he stopped and looked directly into her eyes. "And since you'll be on this pole for a full hour, I'm sure you'll be cumming plenty of times tonight. After a while, I'm sure you'll be in pain just from being too sensitive. I'll be sure to relish it. In the meantime, I'll be taking pictures when I'm not whipping you. And believe me, I'm very good with both a camera and a bullwhip. Oh, and Jennifer? Try not to choke on my cum, darling, I'd like you to survive this."

Her eyes widened at this news. She might not *survive*? He wasn't going to stop if she passed out? And - oh God, no! - she felt an orgasm imminent. He gazed at her, laughing as he recognized the look on her face, and picked up the bullwhip. "I'll let you have this one before I finish binding you. You should be able to experience at least one orgasm before you have to hold yourself up for such a long time. Besides, this will take some of your energy and weaken you. I think I like that idea." She tried to think of something, anything unerotic. Cleaning the bathroom. Talking to her parents. Filing paperwork at the office - she moaned as her body shook. And screamed into the gag as the first stroke of the whip landed. 

She was exhausted after one orgasm and ten lashes - what was she going to do in five minutes when the next five came? For that matter, how was she supposed to hang onto the hook in the ceiling to keep herself from reaching the dildos when the handcuffs were so tight she couldn't feel her fingers? Kevin kicked the stool away suddenly, and she jerked in the air before yanking herself up as high as she could, clinging to the pole with her legs. "I warned you that you wouldn't be able to keep doing that. You really should exercise more, you know. Your arm strength, from what I recall, isn't much." He finished tying her ankles together and reached behind her for the spreader bar, prying her knees apart to attach the ends one by one. 

She dangled helplessly, pressed by the belt to the pole so that she couldn't even try to move her body over the dildos in an attempt to keep from cumming again. And in spite of the pain in her back, it was impossible to ignore the vibrations on her clit. "You're not moving fast enough for my tastes." And with that, Kevin began finger-fucking her. The problem with dating someone is that they know how to get you off, she thought. She was close to the edge when he backed away and picked up his camera. "Digital, Jennifer, digital. No negatives to burn, and much easier to post online and make copies of. And just think, your face is still easily identifiable with that gag being the only thing obstructing the view." He clicked away while he talked, moving in a circle as she desperately tried not to cum. She knew she was sliding further down toward the dildos, and the tightness of the rope around her neck was her incentive at this point to keep from falling down more. He put down the camera and started fingering her again, faster and faster until she clamped her muscles around him and trembled with the combination of cumming and the effort of clinging to the ceiling. He slapped her ass suddenly, and laughed when she tried to jump away from his hand, only succeeding in dropping another inch.

"All in all, you're holding up fairly well so far. But since five minutes have gone by *and* you came again, well, that makes fifteen, doesn't it!" The whip cracked over and over again, keeping time as he whistled a jaunty tune. "Your screams, my dear, delight me. I love seeing a woman in pain, and especially you. You, in particular, have always been a source of....pleasure for me. Consider yourself special." At this point, Jennifer was barely brushing the tips of the dildos, trying to lever herself up to give herself more time. "Actually, I'm getting bored with waiting." And with that, he put his hands on her shoulders and shoved her fully down onto the rubber cocks. He activated them with the remote. "There, isn't that better?" She began screaming through the gag, shuddering over and over in both pain and pleasure.


The Pole



Cheryl

Tonight I am ready for him; my dearest husband I have missed so much. Why did he have to go for so long; why couldn't he be here during those cold, lonely nights? He's working hard for me that's why; for us, for our future. Things have been tough lately, with not enough money coming in even though both of us work insanely hard. We will be okay though, everything will be good again when the love of my life returns to me, holding me in that safe embrace; hands cradling my face, lips locking onto mine. I want to please him; for this I have been preparing, not only is he coming home today, but it is also his birthday and I aim to make it one he'll never forget.

Little does he know for the last few months while he's been away, I have been working hard on something especially for him; my tutor Alicia has been moulding me into a lean pole dancing queen. Every night when I finished work I would leave the office and call Jack to see how his day had been; I would tell him I love him and I was missing him and then head off for my private lesson. My skyscraper heels and my small pink hot pants and vest top would be already waiting in a bag the whole time I was working. As soon as I hung up the phone on Jack I would rush in excitement to Alicia's studio down town. Once I got there it would be straight down to business, Alicia would hit play on the music system and have me stand in front of her as a mirror image to warm up. 

'Okay Cheryl, eyes on mine at all times. Let's start with our head, shoulders and arm stretches.' Of course I would comply, moving my muscles and joints in rotations to work out the kinks. 'That's good Cheryl. Remember, sultry eyes; you want your husband to look at you and be completely hooked. Let's do those hips and legs now.' My body would sway and rock, releasing all of the days' tension. I'd look deep into her eyes and hold her gaze, working on that sultry look she was teaching me.

'Much better Cheryl; that's exactly the look we're going for, it's as much about the eyes as it is your body.' We would finish our warm up and I'd get my things from my bag to change into. I would come back into the room, my heels making me look taller and my legs leaner; my short pink hot pants would hug my ass and my vest top would pull me in and push me up in all the right places.

'Hey Cheryl if you look that good in your training gear your husband is in for a right treat when you get your sex on!'

'I guess I just need you to give me some new moves now then huh?' We would laugh together before running through the pole routine again. 

'Just always remember to think sexy and you'll be fine.'

'Will do babe' and I'd give her a wink and a cheeky grin.

'That's my girl! Now show me those pins twirl around that pole. Just imagine its Jacks dick!' I'd laugh and in one swift motion I'd mount the pole as the music began to pump out the large speakers.

And now here I am; any minute now Jack will come home and find me; I'm fully kitted out in black lace after taking Alicia's advice. My black hair is falling in long, glossy waves to my breasts. My eyes are dramatic and dark with lips blood red. I put my hands on my hips and wait for him to discover me. His transformed wife; now his special birthday slut.

Jack

It's been too long; all I want to do is nuzzle my face into my wife's neck and inhale her sweet comforting scent. My how I've missed her. I push the front door open and call her to let her know I'm home now. 'Cheryl! Honey where are you?' No response; if she isn't here how come the door was unlocked?

I look in the front room -- empty; the kitchen -- empty. I move up the stairs and hear music, not my wife's taste at all, it's fast paced and bouncy with a loud bass. Who the hell is in MY bedroom playing THAT? I fear the worst hoping to god that there isn't another man in there. I hold onto the door handle and close my eyes for a moment before swinging the door open and barging into our bedroom.

I'm stunned. There is no man in here to my relief; instead a woman, tall, dark with the sexiest lips, plump and being pulled from her teeth in a way that oozes sex appeal. Her eyes are locked onto me, inviting me into her. God I want to make those eyes roll back with the pleasure of my dick fucking her and filling her up.

I look at her some more -- she's wearing those 'fuck me shoes' I love so much and dark stockings that travel up to her thighs. My eyes shift to her stomach, smooth and tight made even more gorgeous by the addition of the black suspender belt. Oh how I want to run my hands and tongue all over her skin and further up to those full and firm...Oh My God

How has it taken me this long to realise. No bra; she isn't bare though; those voluptuous breasts of hers, pert wearing dark sparkling diamonds that surround her nipples. The pattern reminds me of fireworks - she looks so hot.

'Happy birthday baby.'

My wife, my beautiful, sexy hot wife! I have never seen her this way before; she is normally so shy and would normally only ever have sex in the dark. 'Don't drool honey, look in my eyes.' I've just noticed my mouth has been hung open in shock since I walked in. 'Sit baby.'

She places me on a chair that I haven't seen in here before and closes the door behind us. 'Put your hands behind you.' I oblige still in utter awe of this woman; she takes my tie from my shirt and binds my hands together so I can't touch her. 'You like our new addition?' I look around not realising what she means and then I see it -- that shining silver pole behind her, hidden in the dim light. I can do nothing other than nod in response. 'Good. I'm glad you approve. Would you like me to dance for you baby?'

'I would.' I almost choke the words out and she bends down taking my hair in her hands and yanking my head back to meet her gaze. Fuck that's hot. 

'Then a dance you shall have sir.' She kisses me on the forehead and I can feel her lipstick print remain on me when her lips leave and she walks away from me. Effortlessly she uses her arms and propels herself half way up the pole, entwining her legs around the top, spinning her body so she ends up upside down with her stomach and breasts facing me. It's an unbelievable sight with those 'fuck me shoes' and that lacy underwear. God how I would rip them off with my teeth in seconds. The whole time she spins her body and grinds her pelvis down and then up the pole her eyes are burning into mine with pure seduction.

The way her hips are moving; just the sheer sight makes my cock hard and I can feel the throbbing sensation as it tries to burst free from my pants. 'Cheryl! Enough; come here to me!' I cannot sit here with my wrists restrained much longer, I need to touch her. 

'You want me to stop baby?' Her voice is teasing me.

'I want, Mrs White, to fuck you. Get over here and release me or I may be inclined to put you over my knee later.' And with that she slides down from the pole and moves over to me at a frustratingly slow pace. The tie is becoming a real pain in the ass now; I want to grab her and throw her down on our bed and fuck her until her nails dig into my back and I hear that long, loud moan of my name that I've missed so much.

'I don't think I can release you, but... I can fuck you.' She never swears; the sound of her emphasising the word 'fuck' almost makes me spontaneously combust in my pants. She never fucks ME either; it is ALWAYS me that fucks HER. She drops to her knees and moves her head so her hair flies back behind her -- that sultry gaze staring into my soul as she unzips me and pulls down my pants in slow motion while biting her bottom lip.

'Would you like one of my special kisses before I fuck you sir?'

'God yes!' With the excitement in my voice and present in her eyes, she grabs at my dick clenching a fist around me, holding me tighter before licking from my balls to my tip. She rolls her tongue over me and plunges me deep into her mouth. 'Arrrgh, god Cheryl!' I pull on my restraining tie wanting to touch her face and tug on her hair. It's been so long since my wife has taken me this way, way before I left for work; it makes me feel that pressurised build up already. 'Untie me Cheryl; I don't want to come yet'.

She glances up at me and slowly slips my throbbing erection out of her mouth. That red lipstick of hers, staining her imprinted kiss on my pubic bone. She carries on holding my stare as she stands up to straddle me. 'I don't want you to come yet either. I want to fuck you first Jack, just hold it back for me.' God she is sexy when she's in this mood.

Her hands normally shaking, expertly undo the buttons of my shirt while her plumped lips kiss and caress me from my mouth, down my neck and over my chest. 'Mmm.' A low groan escapes my mouth. 'God Cheryl I've missed you.'

'I've missed you too Jack.' She moves the lacy material of her panties to the side and moves my tip along her length. I can feel her arousal and wetness and I push my hips up to feel her entry. 'So impatient sir.' She flashes me a smug and cheeky smile.

'I want you now.' Before my words even leave my lips our tongues are rolling around together in a frenzied dance of passion. At that exact moment I feel her walls close in around my shaft and I expect her to move herself up and down but she doesn't. She rolls her hips instead in long, sensual circles and I can feel her from angles I haven't had the pleasure of feeling before. Her touch brings me close to the brink but I'm distracted by the sudden change of movement as she moves up and down, pulling herself almost off me completely before allowing me to plunge back in.

One of her hands pulls on my hair as the other moves slowly along her neck, over her breasts and squeezing. She's doing to herself what she knows I would be doing to her if my hands were freed. Her hand continues lower until I can see her fingers rub her clit while she still pumps me in and out of her.

We rock together and both moan into each other's mouths in ecstasy. I feel her contract and flutter around my cock when her back arches and her head is thrown back with the scream of her orgasm. The sound of her coming alone sends me over the edge and the pulsation of her pussy makes me explode inside her.

We fall limp together, still wrapped up on this chair. I feel the tie slide off from my wrists and I feel the dull ache of where they've dug into my skin. I push my fingers through her hair and move her head so her eyes meet mine. 'I love you Cheryl.' I whisper, leaving a trail of soft kisses over her cheek, eye lids and forehead. 

'I love you too Jack. Happy birthday.'



The Pole Dancer



It's my turn to sit in the chair and watch. I feel a little queasy, which surprises me. It's not as if I've never done this before. I used to feel this way when I first started coming here, but I've been a regular for over a year now and I wonder why I'm so nervous. Not everyone has the privilege of watching scantily clad women dance for them. In this place, especially, there are unspoken rules - an etiquette to follow. That's if you want to be welcomed back. 

She stands in her shadow waiting for the music to prompt her out. "Come my lady, come come my lady..." Crazy Town sings what I am thinking in the chair. 

Her silhouette reveals sensuous curves. As she steps from her shadow, I am taken by a vision of erotic promise. Her auburn curls caress her silky bare shoulders, while just below, her full breasts strain against a corset of red satin and midnight lace. Each breath teases as her breasts seek to push over and beyond their constraints. She lifts her right hand to grasp the top of the pole and propels herself around it by wrapping her right leg around the cold metal shaft. She scans us all with careful neutrality and stops her spin gracefully by planting the tips of her toes on the floor. Her legs splay open to reveal the red sliver of her thong. 

The beat pulses the air. Slowly....slowly.... she bends backwards in an arch, sliding head first towards the floor. Crotch facing me. Still grasping the pole with her right hand, her left struggles to get loose from her tangled hair, hungry to explore the rest of her body. Fingers draw the contours of her delicate face, travelling down the side of her neck and steadily downwards. The tips of her fingers brush the tips of her nipples which stand erect at her touch. Her thumb catches the metal zipper on her shorts and rests there. Lingering. Waiting. Not knowing where she will go next. She decides to move her hand away and rests it on the of inside her creamy thigh before moving on. She melts onto the floor like piping hot fudge being poured over ice cream and stretches out on the floor arms spread out, legs waiting to spread. 

Turning on her belly she crawls on all fours towards me, arms reaching into my space. She moves beneath the beat, supremely confident in her ability to make us want more. I feel so lucky to be in that chair! My fingernails scratch the cording of the chair arm, anticipating the weight of her body on mine. Her body moves to the rhythmic beat of the music slowly, sensually, creating a tension palpable in the room. Lithely pulling her way up towards me, she draws me helpless into her web. I am paralyzed but the whistles and cheers of "Oh YEAH!" interrupt my trance and awakens me to reality.

Kneeling in front of me she takes each of my hands and plants them firmly on the arms of the chair. I remind myself, no touching. Those are the rules. She nuzzles her head between my legs, teasing them apart where she settles her knee in the space between my legs. She climbs onto the chair and straddles me, hovering over me like a hawk. I remind myself to relax into the chair -- unsuccessfully trying to control my breath. I lean my head back and close my eyes as I turn my face up towards her. She smells sweet, like honeysuckle, as she rubs her head against my neck. Her lap dance is by turns controlled and wild. I am lucky to sit in that chair today and she knows it. Her tits move over my face as she brushes them across my face. I hold my breath trying to control my body's reactions. Like a mantra I whisper to myself, "No touching. No tasting. No reaching out." Only yearn, want, need. Accept the gift of the dance. Revel in her offering. I am starting to relax and give out a slow relaxed breath when she descends down my legs leaving me shuddering and cold as she crawls away from me. 

The g-string she picked to wear today is held together by a silver snake with eyes of green glass. Eyes that cast a cold glare as if stating who is in control. Wanting to see the impact of my loss, she turns and takes one last look at the damage she left on the chair. The corner of her mouth turns up in a flirty smile as her eyes turn from inviting to distant as the music ends. I realize now why I was so nervous. I'm finally admitting to myself that watching these women dance makes me wet. I think that's against one of the unspoken rules. 

Claps and cheers follow. "That was HOT!" the instructor says, giving her the supportive feedback that we all come for. "I love the way you ended it! Good job - I love the way you took your power and slowed down this time. You didn't rush through it and I see a big difference from the beginning of this session. Keep it up I'm really happy for you!" The next one in line moves to take my place. I have secretly regained my composure so I vacate my chair and make my own way to the dance floor. 

Pole dancing classes have been my escape and my refuge from my life in the confines of the suburbs and responsibility. I love my family and the choices I've made in my life but I've discovered my need for the edge. The edge gets my blood flowing and gives me the endorphin rush I crave. 

Remembering my first class and how nervous I was, I can hardly believe I've been at for almost a year. Before my first class I had to pop a pill to open myself up. Seems crazy to waste a pill on something like this but it turns out I was good at it. And I got better as I released my inhibitions. My first lap dance was the hardest thing I ever did. I had a routine down but I had never before been so close to a woman in silk panties and a bra. Now I do lap dances without thinking twice about it, each dance has become a meditation on breaking down my walls. 

That's when I knew I was ready to take on the pros. I surprised my husband on our 7th anniversary by taking him to a strip club. I had been taking pole dancing classes for a few months and wanted to see how the pros do it. Having never been to a strip club before, I thought it would be something fun and risqué to do with him. There was some deniability too since I brought it up to him as some 'research' that I was doing. I went even further by offering to buy him a lap dance. He knew what I really wanted though and instead bought me a lap dance. I was a little high -- deniability again -- and was up for anything. "I'll do it for you," I said. He smiled knowingly, "Yes, do it for me." "Her?" I pointed. "Yes." But first, we watched her dance.

The girl on the stage had skin like ivory, small tits but tight pink nipples partially covered by nipple shields. She was clearly experienced, but wasn't nearly as skillful as the women in my class. But I guess here's less invested in making a dance look pretty when it's mostly for men and it's all a transaction. The difference is this: we dance for ourselves. 

These girls should dance for women who truly appreciate their sensuality, who can give what they get. It's an emotional and unreasonable thought. Of course I know that's not what they want. For them it's about money and the brief control they exert over desperate men. But oh, how much more glorious they could be! I'm not putting down how they take and exert their power though. I understand the money is good. 

After all, who am I to judge?

Next chapter:

Behind Red Velvet Curtains 



The Pole



It lasted far longer than an hour. He eased her shaking, bleeding body off the pole gently, saying, "I know I said an hour, but think of it this way. You got extra orgasms for free while I made up for the ones you had too quickly for me to get the ten strokes in." He smiled to himself. "I do have to admit that I probably went a little overboard and counted a few too many, but what can I say? I was having fun." He glanced down at her. Jennifer had passed out and was breathing shallowly. He took off the gag and let his cum trickle out of her mouth at last, then finished unwrapping the rope from her neck. "And, I think, it's time for some more fun. It doesn't matter if you're awake or not, this is all for me. I've been waiting over an hour to fuck your ass. I'm just sorry that it was a dildo to fuck you there first, but that was how it had to be." He plunged into the bleeding, still tight hole. "And really, this is just the beginning of your punishment."



The Police Officer



Author's Note: This is really part two of "The Chess Player", as it took place immediately after the incident in the motel with the chess game. Thought you'd like to know that in case you're keeping score.

* * * * *

As I got into the front seat of our BMW, I made no effort to cover my legs with my dress. It had settled comfortably about two-thirds up my thighs. I knew Patrick enjoyed looking at my exposed skin, at my long silk encased legs, and there was no reason to cover them up. As we drove along, his right hand rested on my left knee. I parted my legs just a bit, in case he wanted to go higher. I always try to make myself accessible to whoever has their hand on my body. Always!

"Bet a button?" My husband asked.

Now, I should probably explain what "bet-a-button" means. We often play this game, especially when I'm wearing a dress that buttons up the front. As a prelude to our game time, Patrick will often bet me a button that a certain event will take place. If he wins, I undo a button off my dress, either from the top or the bottom, my choice, and if I win, I get a monetary payoff, usually, fifty dollars. Now the dress I was wearing that night had twelve buttons, all fastened.

The top button was affixed about two inches from my neckline, the bottom one was about two inches from the hem. As I mentioned in a previous section to this story, this dress, when buttoned all the way, was quite respectful, but as they came undone, the dress gave way to a more sexual quality.

"On what?" I replied.

"Oh, I don't care. You pick something."

"Pull over here."

Patrick curbed the car, facing a small grocery store.

"Look at me," I said.

"How can I help looking at you," he replied with a grin.

"Next person out of the store across the street. Man or woman?"

"Man."

We both turned to watch the store. The front door opened. A man walked out. I'd lost that one. I reached down to the hem of the skirt and undid the bottom button. Patrick smiled. "Looks like I'm off to a good start."

He glided our Beamer back into traffic. I didn't mind losing, but I hated the smugness on my husband's face. I began looking for another opportunity to place another bet. I didn't have to wait long. I spotted a car pulling into a liquor store.

"Patrick, driver gets out and goes into the store!"

My husband looked over at the car, still not yet parked and replied, "Deal, but for double stakes."

"Done," I replied.

We watched as the car parked, and the passenger side door opened. Damn! I'd lost again!

"That'll be two buttons, ma'am."

"I know, I can count." I undid one more off the bottom, and one from the top. I was still pretty respectably dressed. I could easily go into any store without raising eyebrows.

As we continued to our destination, Patrick teased me some more. "Care to try to win back your honor?"

He is such a prick! He knew I didn't mind undoing my dress, but I absolutely hate to lose a bet. Yeah, I wanted a chance to avenge myself.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Nothing really, just wanted to know if you were still game for the game?

"Yeah, I'm game. Pull over."

Once more, Patrick stopped our Beamer. "What did you have in mind, sweetie?"

I didn't really have a plan, but I didn't want him to know. I sort of made it up as I went.

"I'll bet you three buttons that I can make a car stop for me in less than a minute."

Patrick thought about that for a second. This had possibilities, but there was also an element of danger, and Patrick always tries to keep me safe, even on adventuresome nights like that one was.

"Okay, but if someone stops, you get back in this car immediately."

With that, I was out of my seat belt and outside our car in a flash. I started to walk down the street, heels clicking, dress whipping in the wind. I didn't make any overt effort to stop a vehicle, even though there was nothing in the bet to say I couldn't. I know this world well enough to know that any man driving past me on this highway would stop his car to offer me assistance, even if it meant dumping his wife and kids on the side of the road!

And I was right. I hadn't taken twenty steps when I heard a car pull off the road behind me. I knew Patrick was close by, so I wasn't worried. I turned around, however, and was surprised to see who'd stopped for me. It was a police cruiser! I smiled at the officer behind the wheel, and turned to walk back toward our car, parked just a few feet behind the cop's car. As I walked past the passenger side of the patrol car, the officer got out of his vehicle.

"Excuse me, ma'am. I need to talk to you."

I started to explain to him that my husband was right behind him, parked about a half-block away, but thought better of the idea. After all, it is kind of hard to explain some of the games Patrick and I play, especially to a straight citizen like I was sure this guy was. I decided to see what this scenario would hold for me.

"Yes, sir?"

He came around the back of his car to the side I was standing on. I couldn't help notice how handsome he was, how virile looking in his uniform. There's something about a man in leather and brass, and the gun made him look soooo rugged! I could feel my pussy start to juice.

"Are you in some sort of trouble, ma'am?"

"Oh, no, officer. I was just taking a short walk."

I realized how lame that sounded. But at that point, there was no way to make it sound better.

"May I see some identification, please." His voice was becoming more formal. And it was then I realized I didn't have my purse. It was in the car with Patrick, and Patrick wasn't coming to my aid. I stalled for a moment, thinking of how to handle this. I needn't have worried. My policeman was doing the thinking for both of us.

"You do have some I. D., don't you?"

"Well, no, not exactly. You see, I left my purse somewhere."

"Ma'am?"

"Well, I mean...no. I have no I. D., officer. Sorry."

I knew that wouldn't be good enough, but then, I also knew that if push came to shove, Patrick would rescue me. "I'm going to have to ask you to step inside my car."

"Are you arresting me?"

"No, but I want to get you off the side of the street. It isn't safe to be standing here. We could get hit by an oncoming vehicle. Please step inside my car."

I absolutely loved the way he spoke. His voice was so calm, yet so controlling. He was in charge, and I was being told what to do. But this was not the time for fantasy, and I knew I had to get control of the situation back.

"Officer, I really don't think that will be necessary. My husband..."

I never finished the sentence. The police officer took my left hand, and before I knew what was happening, he'd slapped a handcuff on it, and bringing it around behind me in the same motion, he'd cuffed my right hand also. In the blink of an eye, my hands were suddenly cuffed behind me, and I stood helpless on the side of the road.

"Sorry, ma'am, but I must have your cooperation. We're looking for a woman who robbed a liquor store a few blocks away and fled on foot. Now, please get inside the car."

I didn't know what to say, or how to react. Patrick was still inside our car, and even now, with the escalation of this situation, he had made no move to get out and come to my rescue. Fine, I'll go along with this. After all, I hadn't done anything wrong. I was sure I'd be able to clear this up as soon as we got inside the officer's vehicle. I started to walk over to the side door when the cop spoke again.

"Wait just a second, ma'am." He walked up behind me, and I was totally unprepared for what happened next. I felt his hands touch the top of my shoulders, and start to pat me down, along the arms, under them, and down my side. He brushed over my breasts, down across my stomach, and around my waist. They continued to feel my buttocks, and then, to my surprise, he reached around in front of me and felt the front of my dress, running his hands over my pussy. Next, he ran his hands down my legs, first on the outside, and then, on the way back up, on the inside. Again, his hand touched my pussy, although still through the thin material of my dress. But I was wearing no panties, so when his hand came into contact with my cunny, I know he could feel the pussy hairs right through the dress!

"Sorry, ma'am, but regulations require I do a preliminary search for weapons. Please get in the car now."

I was speechless. In less time than it takes to light a cigarette, this police officer had felt my body's most intimate places, and touched my pussy twice! And now, I was being placed in the front seat of a squad car, and treated like a criminal. Before I could say anything else, the door was closed, and my police officer was coming around to the driver's side. He got in, picked up a clip board, removed a pen from his pocket and prepared to write. It was then he noticed my dress had come up when I got in his car. With my hands cuffed behind me, I could not pull it down. The tops of my stocking was visible on my right leg, and the white flesh above the stocking was exposed on the left one.

If my being exposed like this bothered the officer, he certainly didn't indicate it. He glanced down at my legs, and then back at his clip board.

"Name?"

I started to lie, but this was not the time, nor the place to get cute. I started to worry about just where this might lead.

"I said, I need your name, ma'am."

"Rachael. Rachael Blaine."

I gave it to him.

"You live in Dallas?"

"My husband...we were just going to the movies..." I didn't know what to say. I wanted to tell him about the bet, but by now, I was getting scared. He might not understand. He might think it unusual that a husband would make bets like Patrick and I'd made. I decided to put together a reasonable story.

"My husband and I had a minor difference of opinion. I got out of the car, and started walking down this street. And that's when you stopped me. That's why I don't have my purse. It's in the car with him."

"And where is he?"

"He was parked about half a block behind us when you stopped me."

The officer looked in his rear view mirror. "You all drive a red BMW?"

"Yes, sir."

The cop picked up his microphone from the console. He called in our license plate number. Within seconds, the radio rasped out Patrick's name and our address. The cop replaced the mike and putting his car in reverse, backed up to where Patrick was sitting in our car.

"I'll be right back," he said, exiting the prowl car. I couldn't see much from where I was sitting. I could see Patrick hand his driver's license to the officer, and I could see them talking. Then the officer handed back my husband's license, shook hands, and walked back over to the patrol car.

Getting back into the car, I noticed a difference in the officer's attitude. Before, he had seemed overly cautious, almost too polite. Now he seemed friendlier, much nicer. I was confident Patrick had straightened the whole thing out. "Your husband explained to me what you all were doing. Did he tell me the truth?"

"Well, I don't know what he told you, but I'm sure it was the truth. Patrick doesn't lie."

"He told me that you were walking on the side of the street to see if you could get a man to stop in less than a minute. Said that you and he had a bet going. Is that the truth?"

"Yeah, I guess that's about it."

"He also told me that you like being handcuffed. That true also?"

"Sometimes. Are you going to let me go now?"

"Well, in a minute. In a minute. First, I want to tell you how much trouble you could have been in."

"Look, officer, I appreciate your time, and I really think you're nice, but if you don't mind, could we skip the good citizen routine and let me go now. I really don't have a lot of time for this sort of crap."

I don't know what possessed me to say those things to him. I guess I was just getting tired of this game, and wanted to get back in the car. By now, I didn't really even want to go to the movie. I was getting out of the mood, and getting out quickly!

The cop looked surprised by my outburst. "You know, your husband said you could be a real bitch! I thought he was just being a typical married guy, but I believe he was right."

"Fuck you. Just undo these cuffs, and I mean, undo them now!"

"Well, ma'am. It's not nice to talk to police officers like that. It's not nice, and it's not legal. I'm afraid I'm going to have to book you for that." Saying that, he reached down for the ignition and started the engine.

"Wait! What are you doing?"

"Why, I'm going to take you to jail. Let's see how cute you are in a cell with hookers, drunks, and druggies."

"Wait. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude to you. Please don't take me to jail."

"Well, I don't know. I really should book you. I mean, you did break the law...and it's not like we were friends or anything...I really should run you in."

I suddenly understood. I knew what he wanted me to do. And just as suddenly, I was in the mood again! This would be fun. "Please, officer. Isn't there anything I could do for you to make us friends? I really do want to be your friend!"

"Well, Gosh, ma'am. I don't know what it would be. You got any ideas?"

"If you undid my cuffs, I'm sure I could think of something." I was really getting into this. I'd never fucked a cop in uniform, and the idea was turning me on something fierce!

"Oh, I couldn't undo the cuffs while you're in my custody. If you thought of something, something that would make us friends, you'd have to be able to do it without hands."

"I can't unzip your fly without using my hands."

"Well, maybe I could help you with that," he said as his fingers went to the tab on his zipper. I waited with anticipation as he pulled down the closure that confined his cop dick inside his pants. Reaching inside his trousers, my policeman withdrew a very nice, firm cock, and laid it on the outside of his pants.

"There. That help?"

I leaned forward, and to the side. My hands were still cuffed behind me as my mouth made contact with the cop's cock. I spent a few moments kissing it lengthwise, and enjoying the sensation of it as it jerked and started to gain size right before my eyes, or should I say, "mouth?"

I lifted it with my lips, and worked it inside my oral cavity. It gained rigidity as my lips worked up and down, in and over, and outside my mouth. It glistened with the love juices my mouth was making for his hard cock. I wanted to touch it so badly, to hold it in my hands as I continued sucking him, to run my nails down the shaft, over the sac of balls I could now not see or touch, and still further south, to his ass hole. I wanted to touch his ass hole, to feel its rubbery texture with my fingers, with my tongue. His cock was rock hard now, and he plunged it into my willing mouth!

I lifted my head of his dick. "Please, undo the cuffs so I can handle this giant!" His answer was unspoken. Taking his hand, he placed it on the back of my head, and firmly pushed my face back down to his crotch. He wanted no more interruptions. I understood. Sucking now with all the talent I possessed, I pulled his dick hard into my throat. My husband tells me no one can suck a cock like I can, and I meant to live up to that praise. His hard dick fucked my mouth! There was nothing else I could do. His hand held my head in place, his bucking hips kept delivering his loaded cock to the back of my throat. I felt his throbbing dick start to inflate. I knew he was going to shoot, and judging from the thickness of his man meat, I knew it would be a huge load. I was ready!

And I was right! Once he started unloading his cum in my mouth, there seemed to be no end to it. I swallowed as fast as I could, and for a moment, I was pretty sure that I would not be able to handle it all. Most of it went in my mouth, down my throat, but a little bit, just a little, slipped down his cock, and settled around the base. I managed to swallow what I had in my mouth, then lick up the spillage. When I finished, his cock was already deflating. I knew he was done for a while. Ymmmmmmm! Cop cock! I'd always wanted to do that, and now I had. I sat back up in my seat. Licking the corners of my mouth, I spoke for the first time in minutes.

"Can you uncuff me now?"

Instead of reaching for the key for the cuffs, he reached over and undid one more button on my dress top, and two more on the bottom. "Your husband told me you lost three more buttons, and asked me to assist you in the undoing. As for the cuffs, he has the key. This was his idea."

I wasn't surprised. Patrick knows all my fantasies, and does his best to fulfill them whenever possible. He'd told the cop about our adventure, about the button bet, about my fantasy to suck off a cop in the front seat of a patrol car. And he'd given the officer permission to stick his cock in my mouth! No wonder I love him so!

He did more than just open the buttons, though. He cupped my breasts in his hand, twisting the nipples around, pinching them, making them stand out, harder, redder than before. Then, when he got to the bottom buttons, he snaked his hand under my dress, found my pussy and shoved one finger inside it. "That's a tight squeeze, baby. I'll bet you're one fine fuck."

I thought he was going to fuck me right then. I thought for sure he'd lift the hem of my dress, push me back on the seat, spread my legs, and ram his now hardening cock inside my wet, steamy cunt. But he didn't. Instead, opening the door on my side of the car, the young officer helped me out and walked me, hands still cuffed, to our car. As I got in, he leaned over me and told Patrick, "You were right. The bitch can suck a dick! Thanks."

"No problem Wally. Next time, if the circumstances allow it, I'll let you fuck her."

"I'd like that. Bet her pussy is tight."

"It's tight enough to make a grown man cry." The two men were discussing me, my most intimate body parts, and laughing, like I was some street whore. I loved it! Officer Walter Simms reached across the seat, squeezed my breast one more time, and withdrew from the car.

"Night, Phil, and thanks again."

"No problem, Wally. Anytime."

And he was gone. He hadn't even said goodnight to me, to the woman who'd just sucked his dick to a fare-thee-well, the woman whose mouth he'd used for his passion, and he didn't even say goodnight! I guess he didn't think manners matter with a slut. And I guess they don't!

Patrick started the car.

"Aren't you going to undo my cuffs?"

"Why?"

"I feel so vulnerable like this. Please undo them."

Patrick's only response was to reach over to my skirt and skin it back, exposing my legs up to my pussy. Then he said the words that started my next orgasm. "No, I think I'll leave you like that for awhile. Who knows who I'll find that wants to fuck you, and with your hands behind your back, you really won't be any trouble."

Patrick drove down the street, making small talk with me, talking as if everything was normal. Everything was not normal, however! My dress only had six buttons left fastened, and I was virtually hanging out of it. My hands were cuffed behind my back. And my darling husband had opened the hem of my dress far enough to the point my pussy was exposed. As we drove, Patrick fondled my left breast, which was totally outside the confines of my dress. The only saving grace to all this was that it was dark outside. Of course, if a car pulled along side us, the driver would be able to see my breasts, and if it was a pickup or van, my pussy would be visible also.

"Oh, my!" Patrick said with an air of mockery, "We only have 3/4 of a tank of gas. That won't do. I think I'll pull into that station and top off the tank."

I knew we didn't have to stop. We could have driven all the way back to our house with that much gas. This unneeded pit stop was solely for the purpose of humiliating me, showing me off to other people. But I didn't mind. I never have been shy about exhibiting myself. The only thing that added an element of excitement to this was the fact that my hands were behind my back, and I couldn't stop anyone from touching me, or worse!




The Police Officer



She pushed the car up to one hundred and thirty kilometres an hour, trance thumping through her body, the air beating in the window, and the rainforest blurring into pastel greens. Her hands gripped the wheel, and warm thrills and shivers rippled through her body as she relished the speed, leaving the memories of New Years Eve behind her. She could almost taste Paul's cum from when he'd shot across her tongue, and she smiled, remembering the creamy texture as it had dribbled down her chin. It was a night of dancing, drinking, kissing and fucking. Her hand fluttered off the wheel, softly caressing a breast and sliding down to gently press between her legs. She sucked in a breath and pushed her foot slightly harder on the accelerator.

Waking her from her pleasant thoughts was the flash of blue and red lights in the rear view mirror, followed by a pulse of high-beams coming from a central motorcycle headlight. "Fuck," she muttered, instantly easing off the pedal. The bike's indicator came on, and a gloved hand pointed toward the side of the highway. 'That's all I need at ten o' clock in the bloody morning,' she thought, braking gently and pulling the Audi over to the gravel shoulder.

The cop took his time to slide his visor up, unbuckle the clasp, flick out the stand, remove his gloves and switch off the bike. She adjusted her flimsy dress, making sure her breasts were concealed and pulling the hem as far as she could down her thighs. The cop climbed from the bike, removed his helmet and slowly walked towards her car. She noticed his hair was thick, dark and tousled from the helmet. Her heart beat faster as he approached and she prayed he wouldn't test her for any substances. 

"Morning Miss," he said, towering beside her window, his hand brushing back his hair and sunlight gleaming on his dark glasses. "Do you have your licence on you?" His face was angular and she could see the dark outline of his whiskers. She noticed flecks of grey running through his hair.

"Just a moment..." She picked up her silver handbag and searched for her purse. 'He's pretty cute,' she thought as she turned back to him. "I've got it here... Here you are."

He took the card and turned slightly, examining it, then sighed loudly. "Okay Sara, I'm going to go write you a ticket. Just wait a moment, and keep the engine switched off." His voice was chocolaty smooth, and she picked up a tone of playfulness. As if he thought she had been a naughty little girl.

Sara watched him walk back to the bike, checking out the way his rump moved under the cotton fabric of his uniform. 'He sure is a handsome son-of-a-bitch,' she thought, noticing the way his leather jacket gripped his frame tightly, angling up beneath his arms to cover broad, thick shoulders. Ideas curled through her mind, from stories she'd read in her brother's Penthouse magazine's 'Forum'. She recalled one particular tale where a girl was pulled over by a cop, and she'd sucked him off to avoid getting a ticket. 'God, I wouldn't half mind doing that to him, for any reason,' she thought, becoming aware her nipples were hard and somewhat noticeable through her dress. Tingling anticipation settled deep in her belly and she felt herself begin to smoulder within her panties.

He was beside her window again as she smoothed her hemline once more, glimpsing an enticing shape packaged beneath his sparkling belt-buckle. His belt was slung low holding his black baton, silver handcuffs and his sidearm. She could make out the thick, rounded shape of his cock through the material and by all indications, he appeared to be partially erect. Excitement crept up her spine as the Penthouse story again sprang to mind. She gulped as she realised she was staring at the bulge of his cock, and felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment. He smiled and leant down closer to her window, the ticket in his hand. She realised she could smell her own excitement, her pussy releasing fragrant aromas of musky sexuality. She felt herself blush even more fiercely.

"Is there anything you want to tell me?" He asked, and she heard him inhale deeply. 

"I'm not sure what you mean," she gulped, feeling the sexual tension rising like a curtain between them. 'Does he mean what I think he means?' she wondered, incredulous. He was so handsome, and had a mature, experienced air of charisma about him, as if he'd seen it all, and understood the way of the world. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

"What do you think I mean?" She watched as his tongue moistened his dry lips and his fingers curled over the window edge.

Suddenly her nervousness peaked, and she moved beyond herself, to a place where the curtain of tension disintegrated. "I'd like to tell you to forget the ticket," she said, keeping her voice low. "I'd like to help you to forget the ticket." She let her own tongue flicker across her lips, and sucked gently on her lower lip, brushing back a bang of sandy hair.

His face suddenly hardened, and he stood up tall, his sunglasses gleaming in the Byron Bay sunshine. "You do realise that attempting to bribe a police officer is a serious offence. As is solicitation," he added. "Just how far do you think you can go, Miss?"

His words were like a slap in the face. "Umm, oh, that's not what I meant! I'm sorry..." She cringed, in a hot bath of embarrassment. 'This is not what happened in Penthouse,' she thought. "Jesus. Please officer, just give me the ticket and I'll get out of your way. I'm truly sorry."

"It's too late for that." He said. The rasp of leather from his jacket became the only sound in the quiet country road. "I think you'd better step out of the vehicle." He tugged on her door and it clinked open, his other hand rested threateningly on his nightstick.

"I'm fucking sorry. Please, I take it back, I don't know what came over me. It's just... I just thought... Oh, it doesn't matter." Realising she'd made a huge mistake, she unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed out of the car. The asphalt felt hot beneath her feet and she could smell the salty sea air.

"I've got the whole thing on tape. You understand you'll need to get a solicitor. But right now, you're going to have to follow me into the station, have them print you, and check out your file." His words were pure business, a well practiced authoritarian routine. 

"I don't have a file. And I've never been in trouble with the law. Please, just let me go, I promise I'll never do anything like this again." Her thoughts went to her parents, and she could hardly bare to think about what they would say when they found out. 'God, my father,' she thought, 'he'll think I'm a fucking prostitute.' She shuddered with hopeless frustration.

"Turn around and put your hands on the car." He ordered, his notebook in hand and his police uniform spotless and gleaming.

Feeling tears spring to her eyes she turned around and held the warm roof of her father's Audi. A breeze fluttered her thin dress and she was uncomfortably aware of how slutty she looked. Like a cheap whore in her skimpy dress, with no bra, g-string lines visible, and long sandy windswept hair. Her bare feet and toe rings wouldn't help either, garnished with bright pink nail polish. She sighed miserably and sniffed as she felt her eyes begin to water.

"What I meant was," the smooth voice said behind her, very close to her ear. "If you had anything to tell me, such as anything you might have in the car that maybe shouldn't be there. I think you know what I mean. Or does your boyfriend take care of all that."

"God, no," She sniffed. "No, there's nothing like that."

"I suppose it's probably all gone after last night. New Years in Byron Bay. I know what goes on." He brushed his hands down her sides, over her waist and around her hips. The leather toe of his boot nudged her soft calf, and she parted her legs slightly. She had never felt more vulnerable.

"I don't do drugs. I don't even smoke cigarettes. Please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by what I said. I'm really a good girl."

His hands slid down her left leg, pressing inches away from her crotch, which was rapidly cooling as razor sharp fear began to slice through her. "You're a good girl," he repeated with a dangerous tone, crossing to her right leg, tracing the straps of her panties where they ran tightly across her rump. 

"Hey!" she spat, curling her head. "You can't touch me like that. I'm supposed to have rights."

"Can't I?" He replied. "A moment ago you were offering me sexual favours to tear up your ticket." He leaned closer, inhaling deeply beside her neck. She felt a rush of excitement pulse through her body, down to her fingertips and up again, prickling up the skin on her scalp, then rushing down to her toes before settling deep within her belly. She felt her molten core begin to melt like lava, the warmth again surfacing inside her.

His hands touched her sides ever-so-gently, barely scraping her through the material before caressing her bare armpits, and she suddenly felt his cock press against her rump. She shivered, then groaned. Lust burned inside her, and her nipples crinkled erect. She realised she was about to be raped by a uniformed policeman, and the feel of his hands cut through her fears and filled her with steaming liquids of tingling desire.

"What are you going to do to me?" She moaned as his hands curled around her breasts, holding them gently and warming her nipples. The sound of an approaching car tore through the silence, and he quickly released her. A red car swirled past in a whirlwind of air, and she caught sight of a pale face looking at her through the window.

Sara turned and saw the cop had removed his sunglasses. His eyes were as crystal blue as the crashing waves, yet they seemed somewhat gentle. "Let's go in there," he motioned towards an opening in the rainforest. "Lock your car, and bring the keys." He swiftly walked to his bike, his boots crunching in the gravel, and the sound of a bird whistle flittered past her. 'This is becoming a weird morning,' she thought, rolling up the window and slamming the door. She watched as he rolled his bike into the shadows of a Poinciana, its bright orange flowers punctuating the canopy like Christmas lights. "Come on," he coaxed, his eyes gleaming feverishly.

She took his hand, nervous, anxious, excited and scared all at once. She wondered if she should be doing this. What the possible dangers were. He was a cop, but cops can be psychos too. 'I can't turn back now,' she knew, and a spark of adventure lighted up inside her knew and she decided she didn't really care. She stepped carefully through the mat of leaves and moss, trying to avoid any sharp objects piercing her tender skin.

"Here," he stopped, turned and pulled her body against him. "Let me look at you. You're just amazing. I'm going to do such filthy, depraved things to you." He pulled her against his uniformed body, and she pressed her cheek against the leather. His face angled down until his lips met with hers and she pressed herself closer, pushing her tongue into his mouth and sliding her hand down over his firm rump. He groaned into her mouth, his hands running over her skin, pulling the hem of her dress up, sliding over the milky sides of her breasts. His cock jutted against the fabric of his pants and felt hot and solid against her. Her tongue licked over his, sliding over the edges of his teeth.

He pulled up her dress, releasing their lips as he lifted the flimsy garment over her head, then kissed her passionately again as she folded her almost naked body against him. Her panties felt sopping at the crotch, and so hot it felt as though she'd wet herself. She couldn't believe the lust she was feeling. There was an electric current coursing through her body. 

He knelt down in the damp mat of rotting plant matter and moved his face toward her steaming centre. She groaned as she heard him inhaling her female aroma, smelling the erotic scent of her sex. She gripped his thick hair with both hands and parted her legs as much as she could to allow him greater access. His fingers held her thighs and she felt him penetrate the elastic of her panties, pulling them aside, one edge getting trapped within the folds of her pussy, soaking up the fluids gathering there. Then his hot tongue touched her, and she almost collapsed as her knees trembled uncontrollably. He pushed his face into her, his whiskers roughly brushing her thighs as his tongue sluiced through her plump pussy lips, collecting layers of her magma and flicking over the hole of her urethra. Her clitoris pulsed rhythmically, and her body shuddered as he sucked her inner lips into his mouth, pressing them against his teeth and releasing them, then doing the same with her little clitoris. It was as if he wanted to suck all the juices out of her, to drink the liquids of her sex like a religious sacrament. 

He removed his hungry tongue from her depths and tore her panties from her body, his face feverish and shiny with her fresh juices. "Take out your cock." She whispered throatily. He stood up in the shadowed canopy of the rainforest and pulled off his leather jacket. His shirt underneath was wet around the arms with sweat and she saw his shiny police badge, making the gravity of the situation surface once more. His fly unzipped and he pushed his underwear aside to release a mammoth cock, at full strength, with blue veins bulging out all over it like a bodybuilder's torso. The head was golden and tremendously engorged, its vertical slit partly open, looking like a snake ready to spit hot venom across her belly. His body was trim and muscular, with a thatch of dark, curly hair across his pectorals that ran down to his crotch.

She gulped at his size, painfully aware his cock was much bigger than any of the boys' around her own age. She almost expected it to sizzle when she touched it, like a hot branding iron plunged into cold water. He moaned as her fingers curled around it and she knelt down before him, ready to pray to the god of cock, her fingers frantically tugging at his belt buckle. She wanted him open and bare in the cool of the forest. With a delicious anticipation she licked at the eye, dabbing her saliva onto it, testing its temperature with the tip of her tongue. She felt it pulse, and a large bulb of clear fluid worked its way to the surface. Sighing, Sara touched her tongue to it, and watched as a sticky strand stretched from his raw opening to the tip of her tongue. 

Finally she unclasped his buckle and tugged his pants down, the angry beast wobbling before her eyes, the strand breaking and another swirl of pre-cum staining her as the head bumped against her cheek. With the weight of his police equipment, his pants crumpled around his ankles, and the gun slapped against his motorcycle boot with a heavy thud. She curled her hands around his buttocks, parting them, squeezing them and rubbing them, before opening her mouth as wide as she could and taking the head of his cock into her mouth. 

It felt like a huge fleshy gobstopper as she sucked gently, her tongue moving to the opening and snaking inside. He groaned as she sucked, and forced as much of him into her mouth as she could. Her hand reached between his cheeks for his balls, and she stroked his perineum gently before rubbing the hot, bulging sack. His cock tasted salty and sweet. She forced it further into her mouth until it pressed against her tonsils, and she felt her body tense in response, fighting the mechanical urge, before she released it covered in thick globules and bubbles of saliva, hanging between them in strands. Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead. "Fucking hell, that is the nicest cock I've ever seen," she said, licking her lips with admiration before engulfing it once more.

Her pussy was streaming with juices, and her hand reached under her to rub her clitoris and slide around in the slippery fluid. She reached further under until she could feel her own arsehole, rubbing her juices all over it, and pushing her fingertip inside. In her squatting position she felt it open and suck in her digit, and she reached back around and did the same to him, finding his tightly coiled ring and hearing him grunt even more loudly. As soon as she pushed her finger in she felt his cock swell, his balls contract, and everything explode with pungent semen into her open mouth. The taste was buttery and sweet, streaming down her throat and filling her mouth. She felt some escape from the corners of her mouth as his cock convulsed again and again, huge globules of semen spurting into her welcoming mouth. His cock slipped from her lips with a soft pop and another geyser of sperm shot right out before her eyes, splashing across her nose, catching on her eyelash and painting her cheek. Hungrily she engulfed him again, her tongue running circles around the head until the eruptions subsided, and she removed her finger and gently massaged his heavy balls.

"Whoa Sara," he breathed. "That was fucking intense. Where did you learn those tricks at your age?" He sighed with exhaustion, sucking in the cool forest air, and swaying slightly before her. He bent forward and began picking up his pants.

She slowly stood up, her face dribbling thick sperm, some of her eyelashes pasted together with it, and her knees dirty from the ground. "I want you to fuck me. I want you to make me come." She fingered her clitoris, rubbing her finger around it with a steady, circular motion. "I need to be fucked hard." She reached his drooping cock with her other hand, pulling and slapping at it. She licked her juices off her fingers, smearing his white frosting across her lips. "Can you get it up again, Officer?"

His face glowered at her, his eyes like cold blue steel. "Bend over. Hold onto that tree," he indicated roughly, pulling his nightstick out of his utility belt. "I'll start you off with this."

She met his challenge, the fire in her belly burning so intensely made it impossible to turn back. She leaned over as far as she could and took hold of the tree trunk, arching her back and spreading her legs so her bottom opened, and she knew from his moan he was feasting his eyes on her ripe pussy and anus. "Give it to me."

She felt his hands grab her roughly and his face press into her backside before his tongue lashed between her parted lips and stab into her hole. She felt screams escape her lungs, and her nails dug into the flesh of the tree. His tongue licked every crevice and probed every hole as his whiskers scratched against her white, parted cheeks. He was like a starving man on a chocolate cake. She shuddered as he stretched her apart and stabbed into her again, making his tongue hard and venturing deep within her, then making it soft and lapping at her like a puppy. She could sense his love for the flavours of each of her holes. Then his face left her, and she heard him licking his lips. Looking between her legs she saw him dribbling and rubbing his saliva over the nightstick. His cock was hanging like a donkey's, semi-erect but starting to move. He pressed the end of the stick against her pussy, rubbing it up and down, over her clitoris and up to her anus. "Stick it in me, Officer. Fuck, I need it badly," she hissed, her fingers returning to her clitoris to rub at it furiously. She could already feel the makings of a guttural orgasm sewing its seeds deep inside her belly. 

As felt it poised at the entrance to her pussy, she pushed herself back onto it. Inch by inch it travelled up inside her until it bumped against her womb. Deliciously full, she increased the tempo and pressure on her bud, revelling in the feeling the nightstick was giving her. 

"Oh, you dirty little bitch," the cop growled. "You love it, don't you?"

"Come on, move it harder and faster," she panted, her legs beginning to wobble. "Oh, fuck," she groaned.

He moved the nightstick like a piston, in and out, hammering against her womb. Looking between her legs she noticed his cock was back to full strength, jerking out in front of him knight's lance. "Give me that fucking hard dick, Officer!" 




The Police Officer



He pulled the nightstick out of her and dropped it to the ground, then pushed his cock up against her slippery centre. "Come on, come on, stick it in motherfucker. I'm almost there..."

His cock forced her pussy to expand as he inserted it slowly, his knuckle pressing against her clenching anus. She screamed again as each vein pushed past her entrance, and felt it bump up against her back wall. "Yes, yes, yes, yes." She rode back and forth, feeling like an complete slut, her clitoris swelling and hardening with each thrust. He pounded into her, his hands grabbing her flesh on each side of her rump, his balls slapping against her wriggling fingers. "Oh God," she gasped as her orgasm sent ripples of pleasure up her spine, her thighs shook, and her mind exploded into an array of pyrotechnics. Juices sluiced over her fingers, and the policeman's cock jerked deep inside her.

Sara climaxed harder than ever before, her clitoris releasing shockwaves of violent pleasure and her urethra spurting girl-cum across her fingers. The policeman's cock inside her slammed into her womb and she felt torrents of smoking hot semen cascade into the deepest possible recesses of her body. She almost collapsed into the tree trunk as he continued thrusting, shot after shot emptying into her. Her fingers reflexively went to her mouth and she licked at the sticky, creamy girl-cum. She panted, sucking each finger like she'd just had KFC, feeling him slip out of her and her pussy and anus clench rhythmically, beckoning him to return.

With shaking hands she picked up her tiny dress and ruined panties. The policeman pulled his own pants back on, watching her as she dressed, and smiling at her. "I hope you've learnt your lesson. And I hope you won't be speeding anymore." 

She smiled at him, his semen drying on her skin. "No Officer. I think I have learnt my lesson," she winked playfully. 

He grinned back at her as he buttoned his shirt, when the sound of a police siren startled them both. His smile vanished. "What the fuck!" he whispered, his eyes wide. Sara pulled her dress down quickly and saw him unclip his gun. "Stay here, I'm going to check it out."

Sara ducked behind a shrub and prayed she could soon be on her way, her pussy feeling strangely empty and trickling sperm. 



The Police Officer



I am on a business trip in the USA. 2 weeks away from home. I took the chance of being over here and asked for 2 weeks of holiday. Abit of traveling around. Las Vegas... New York... L.A… Disneyland. After 5 days I am now in Orlando. It’s sunny and warm. I know exactly why I am here. I want to see you. You have never told me where you live, so my only chance is to catch you at work, but where do I start. 

I pick the next best phone book and start calling into the headquarters, asking for Officer Miller. Eventually I find yours and make my way to it. As I enter it a young cop asks me if he could help me. I can see in his look that he didn’t ask because he wanted to, but because of the clothes I had decided to wear. I am in a short shirt tied under my full breast. A very short skirt that moved slightly with every step I take, and black high heels. 

I ask him where I can find your office and he informs me that you aren’t in at the moment, but should return soon. I ask him if its possible to wait in your office and he says no. Not the answer I wanted to hear. I move closer to him. Let my finger run along his chest and ask softly "Please. I will behave!” 

He starts sweating and as he answers me he stutters, “I will...ehh...show you the way, m´am". With my hips swaying I follow him. Officers turning to look at me all the way down to your office door. I smile at the young cop and ask him not to inform you that I am waiting in your office. He nods and nearly falls over a chair as he looks over his shoulder at me whilst returning to wherever he belongs. 

I enter the room and close the door behind me. I smile at the cops that are looking at me through the glass windows. I clean of a corner of your table and sit down on it, crossing my legs. After 5 or 6 minutes I can see you and another officer make your way to your office. You are both busy talking and so you don’t look up. You open the door and come in your back first. Telling your colleague that you will get the papers to him later. 

I smile and huskily say "Hello Officer Miller!” you turn and stare at me. You know instantly who I am. You whisper a light hello as you close the door behind you. I jump of the table corner and prowl over to you. I pull your tie around my hand which makes you come lower. Closer with your face. 

“Is that all?????" I ask sweetly. You can hear a horny tone in my voice. My smile is devilish and before you have the chance to answer I pull you close and kiss you. You put your arms around me and pull me close. So tight that it nearly knocks the air out of me. My second hand goes up into your neck. Our kiss is hungry and hard. Your colleagues can’t believe what they are seeing. I rub my body against yours and feel the bulge in your pants. 

“Close the shades" I say, my voice nearly failing me. You reach behind your back and I can hear the door lock clicking. Then you pull down the shades. I can imagine vividly what is going on in your colleague’s heads right now and that makes me smile even more. The moment the shades are down you pull me back into your arms. The force of your body against mine makes me take a few steps back till I hit the table. I jump back on it and you enter between my spread thighs. I lock my legs around your waist. Both of us are shaking. 

You still seem somewhat in a daze and so I undo the knot in my shirt. It falls open to reveal you my breasts in a lacey bra. You gasp. My hand sinks between us and I undo your belt…the button…the zipper. Your pants drop down to your ankles. Your hands start going up my tights. Under my skirt and as you reach my ass you can feel that I have no panties on. 

I hear you mutter a "Sweet Jesus!” I let my hand go down into your boxers and both of us moan out as I touch your cock for the first time. It feels soft and hard at the same time. I free him out of the cage and slowly guide him with trembling fingers to the entrance of my cave. I slide him up along the wetness and you stop breathing. I enter the head into me, and as I am so wet you enter me with no problems. I pull you close with my legs on your hips and you slide in deep. All the way. 

I moan into your chest, so I wont be heard. You pull my head back and kiss me with hard force. You start thrusting into me. Your hands on my ass…on my breasts. Whilst I claw into your dressed back. Our breath gets faster and we moan into each other’s mouth. Both of us are so hot and excited that it doesn’t take long before I feel you shooting your cum up into me and you feel me orgasm onto your cock. After a while our breath gets normal again and you look down at me. 

"I...I..." you start, but I interrupt.

"Don’t you dare apologize. It was the best I ever had. But I am expecting more. Alot more whilst I am here!” You grin and we get dressed again. 

“I will take you home now," you say. And knowing what that means my devilish smile returns.



The Police Officer



It's Wednesday night and I'm driving home when suddenly I see lights flashing behind me. I stare in my mirror to see what's going on. A white car is flashing it's lights and I begin to wonder if something is wrong with my car? There is enough space to pass me if they are in a hurry.

The car catches up with me and pulls up alongside of me, I look inside the car and see a police officer waving and winking to follow. "God damnit" I swear "what the fuck did I do?" I have no choice then to follow and the cop pulls in on an abandon empty side road.

We stop, I turn off the ignition and already take my papers out of my wallet, I want to get out of here as fast as possible. The white car's door open and a female police officer steps out. She walks to my car and seems to be inspecting my car. "Good evening sir" she says through the open window 

"Good evening ma'am" I answer "Something wrong officer?" She smiles and just asks for my papers.

She goes through them and takes out her ticket book "What's wrong?" I ask again "I wasn't speeding" 

She bends forward and looks me straight in my eyes "Your left back light is not working, and that is a safety issue" she smiles. 

"Awh come on" I sigh "are you really going to give me a ticket for that?" She nods and starts writing. I notice she is alone and that white car is obviously no police vehicle "Can you do that? it seems to me your actually not on duty?" 

She smiles again and stops writing "You're a smart ass aren't you" she nods her head a bit "Yes I am on my way to home, Yes I am officially not on duty and Yes I still can write you a ticket" I mumble something inside my mouth 

"But you know what, If you fix your light right now then I can let you go" I get out of my car and open the trunk to see if I have some spare lights. I go through the junk that I collected over the years but can't find any light at all. I turn around and want to tell her that. She stands in front of her car and the light of her idling car creates a back light. She is a head shorter as I am and has blond hair tight in a knot. 

She is actually looking pretty good. Dark eyes, delicate nose and thin lips that are shaped beautiful. Her police uniform shows a slim body. I open my mouth to tell her I can't find any light but decide to give it a last shot and dive in my trunk again.

"Hold it right there" I hear behind me and she sounds serious, I get up and look over my shoulder. She pulled her gun and is pointing it at me. 

"What the hell" I cry, is she really pointing a gun at me? what the fuck is wrong? 

"Close your trunk, place your hands on the hood where I can see them" she demands. 

I follow her orders and with her feet she kicks my feet apart "What's wrong officer?"

"An armored robbery, the suspect has your description" Great, just fucking great. "I am going to do a strip search" With one hand she holds the gun and the other goes quickly over my body "I'm looking for a gun" she says. Of course she doesn't find any and she makes me turn around. Slowly she kneels down and looks up at me, with one hand she opens my pants 

"Do you have a gun on you?" she smiles and I shake my head 

"what is going on?" I wonder. "Euh ma'am" I whisper "what are you doing?" 

she pulls my pants down and lays her hand on my crotch. "looking for a gun" she sighs "a big dangerous gun" and she dives her hand in my shorts grabbing my cock. 

"Euh.... Ma'am...euhhh" I stumble "I am married you know" It's true, I am married for 15 years and still in love with my wife. She looks up at me "So?" 

"Well, I am not a cheating person" Suddenly she pulls her gun again and points it at my shorts.

"Are you sure" she smiles "What the fuck" I cry and get scared, it seems to me this woman is a bit Loony. She pulls out my cock and points her gun at him "I need to confiscate this gun" she sighs and closes her lips around him. 

She pushes my soft cock deeper inside her mouth and begins to suck, of course he grows fast I just can't help it. Soon he is at maximum size and I hear her moan approvingly. 

I look around, we are on this road alone, I see some cars passing by but they are all on the main road. I wonder if the headlights of the white car will draw some attention, for now they only light this slutty cop sucking my dick.

With her hands she pushes down my jeans and shorts all the way to my ankles, she lays the gun on her knees, grabs my ass and begins to push me deeper down her throat. I place my hands behind me on the trunk, what should I do? 

Enjoy it and feel guilty? Endure it and hope my wife doesn't notice anything? or go for an escape?

She pulls my wet cock out of her mouth and stands up. "I think you need to fuck me boy" she whispers. I look at her again, she is attractive I'll give her that. She takes out the knot that holds her hair together, and it waves down over her shoulder, she shakes her head a bit swirling her hair around.

"Open my pants" she demands but I hesitate 

"Open" and she grabs her gun again 

"my" she points it at my chest 

"pants" she pulls the hammer back. 

Quickly I open her belt, unbutton the top and pull the zipper down, I happen to see her hard nipples shining through her blouse, this girl is really getting horny from all of this "Pull em down" she smiles and I do.

She wears a purple string covered by black lace and her gun waving down orders me to pull those down too. Slowly her pussy reveals herself. A big hairy bush appears, glistening from her juices. She does have a beautiful pussy, her lips already opened showing the pinkish inside a bit. 

Her lips surrounded by a trail of dark pubic hair, tracing down to her ass. The top is shaved in a straight line so that you can't see it when she wears a string.

She pushes me back with her gun, turns around and lays herself half over my trunk. Then she spreads her legs. "fuck me" she says and I take place behind her. I look at her ass, her pussy sparkles in the headlights and again I hesitate. I don't want to cheat on my wife, but do I have a choice?

"you really should start to fuck me" she circles her arm around her body pointing the gun at me again "really boy... you really should"

I sigh and take my cock, guiding it to her pussy. I place the head between her lips and feel instantly how hot and wet she is, then I push forward. She moans "owh yeah" and I begin to fuck the police officer. 

I grab her hips and thrust my hips back and forth. Her pussy leaves her wetness on my cock and I can't help it but I actually begin to enjoy fucking her. 

She notices it and takes the gun back. "fuck me harder" she moans and I begin to slam my cock inside her. She holds the gun in front of her and my eyes almost pop out of my head when I see that she begins to suck the barrel. "hmm" she moans and squirms her cunt tighter around my cock.

I start to pound her cunt and this horny police officer begins to push back at me "make me cum" she orders and I do my best to please her. Faster my cock jams inside her pussy, faster and harder until she explodes 

"OWH FUCK" she screams and her body shakes underneath me, pouring her juices all over my cock. I am about to burst myself but with her hands she pushes me back, she quickly turns around and climbs on the trunk, her face is red from excitement and she sweats a little bit.

"fuck my ass" she smiles and lifts her legs in the air, she spreads them as far as her pants dangling around her ankles allow her. Then she throws her legs over my head, one on each side so that I am trapped between them. 

I am stuck; I can't move nor get away. "Stick him in my ass" she says again and points the gun at my cock again. I shake my head and subconsciously have to smile. I place my head on her ass hole and push forward.

"HOLY SHIT" she screams as my cock rips open her ass. She wants to get fucked in her ass? Then she can get it.

I pound her ass right from the start. When my wife wants to go anal, I gently push him in and give her some time to get used to it. But not with this crazy bitch. 

I wrap my hands around the legs laying up my chest and ram my cock as hard as I can in the police officer's ass "OWH YOU FUCKER" she screams, and a little tear appears in the corner of her eye. Her ass feels really tight and dry. "FUCK FUCK FUCK" she cries as my cock tears open her ass hole.

I slam, I pound, I batter and I go nuts on her ass. She thinks she can get away with this? simply because she has a gun and represents the law? 

Her ass loosens up under the constant beating of my cock. "Fuck me motherfucker" she grims and grabs my neck with both hands, she begins to pound back on my cock. 

"FUCK YEAH" she yells as our bodies slam into each other. My sperm begins to boil inside my balls and I know I am going to cum soon. I jam my cock inside her ass as fast as I can and feel my sperm rising from my balls to the head of my cock. One last hard slam inside her and I exploder "Owh yeah" I cry and pour my cum inside her ass. 

I keep on fucking her, emptying my balls more with every slam. Finally my cock softens and I pull him out.

Her ass is a mess, a big gaping hole. She opens and closes her and it looks like a little fish gasping for air. I relieve myself from the grip her legs still have me in and take a few steps back and watch how my cum begins to drip out of her gaping hole 

"I'm not done yet" she smiles and stares at my cock "but your useless cock is I guess" She grabs her gun again and I sigh "here we go again"

Instead of pointing it at me, she jams the barrel inside her ass "What the fuck???" I think, but I have to see this. She fucks herself fast with the steel barrel, ramming it inside her. When she pulls it back for another deeper push, I see my cum glistening and dripping from the barrel. This woman is insane!

She begins to rub her clit with her free hand and looks at me. "you like that right? you little piece of shit" Her fingers make fast little circles on her clit while she keeps on slamming the barrel inside her ass. 

She squirms and moans on the trunk of my car. Her fingers slip inside her soaking cunt and she slams them deeper. This self-created double fuck sure has the right effect on her. Her body begins to tremble and she shakes her head wildly, her chest pumps up and down and she arches her back, then she explodes. 

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT" she screams bucking up and down on my car. She drops the gun on the ground and grabs her tits, who are still hiding under her uniform, and squeezes them as hard as she can. Giving her the last wave of excitement.

Finally she settles down and climbs off my car. She pulls up her string and pants and takes the gun from the ground and puts it in the holster. "Next time I won't be letting you go this easy" she smiles and walks away. 

She steps in her car and takes off. I watch her disappear in the night and when the red back lights vanished I pull up my own pants , step in my car and drive home.

I pull up my drive way and park behind my wife's car. Lights are still on in the house and I know she must be waiting for me. 

I walk through the kitchen inside the living room. "Hi baby" she says, although she can't see me because our sofa is facing the TV and not the kitchen. Slowly she stands up, turns around and walks towards me 

"Care for another round?" she smiles, unbuttoning the police uniform's blouse she has been wearing all night. 

I grin "owh yeah" and take her hand, leading her to the bedroom.



The Police Officer



As we pulled up to the pumps, Patrick completely lowered my window with the button on his side of the car. He stopped the engine and got out. "Gonna stretch my legs, babe. You want to get out?"

He didn't wait for an answer. I was into exhibition, but not to the point of arrest. Besides, there was no one there except a young man and the cashier. Patrick went into the station, passing the boy on the way out to service the car.

"Fill 'er up, and make sure you wash the windshield, son. Especially on my wife's side."

"Yes, sir."

The young boy made his way to the pumps. He inserted the nozzle, (from the gas pump, silly!) He was very young looking, I would guess him to be around eighteen. He was tall for his age, and I imagine he must have been almost six foot, two inches tall. And skinny as a rail! As he started washing the window, I knew he still hadn't seen me. But as he progressed to the middle of the screen, he suddenly stopped in mid motion. Bingo! He'd spotted me sitting there, and for at least five seconds he just stood and took in the picture I must have made. And why not? My skirt was pushed up to my pussy, and the top of my dress was open, both breasts visible, including the nipples, which were by that time rock hard!

He slowly made his way over to my side of the car. As he washed the windshield, (much slower this time than he was when he was washing my husband's side) he managed to take his eyes off my body and noticed my face for the first time. He seemed shocked when instead of being angry with him for staring at my exposed body, my lips broke into a soft, sexy smile. I winked at him, and I swear I think I saw the bulge in his pants start to twitch!

He was standing by my window, leaning over to wash the windshield, (ever so slowly). By now he noticed I had my hands behind my back. He couldn't know I was handcuffed, and must have taken my posture to be one of invitation. I broke the ice by speaking to him.

"You did a good job on the window."

He stammered out a weak, "Thank you, ma'am."

"Am I embarrassing you?" I asked him.

"Oh, no, ma'am. I was just thinking 'bout how beautiful you are. I don't think I've ever seen such a pretty set of...of...of..."

"Tits?" I asked him with a definite flirt in my voice.

"Yes, ma'am. Tits."

"So you like them?"

"Like 'em! I ain't never seen none that pretty, or that big. Sure I like 'em." Then he suddenly seemed to realize he was talking to a nearly naked woman, and her date was just inside the store. He suddenly seemed almost scared. I knew I could lose him if I wasn't careful.

"Listen, sweetie...What's your name?"

"Alex."

"Listen, Alex. Could you do me a favor?"

"Hell yes. What do you need?"

"Well, as you can see, my hands are behind my back, and my right breast has a terrible need to be scratched. Would you mind helping me out of this predicament?"

"Do what?"

"Could you just scratch my right breast for a moment? It really does itch, and I really can't do it myself."

He looked back toward the station's office. Patrick's back was toward us, and that was probably the only thing that allowed the boy to stand next to me. He was torn between wanting to touch me, and a genuine fear of my husband. Finally he found his voice.

"You want me to scratch it?"

"If you don't mind. You see, my husband handcuffed me behind my back, and I just can't make the itch stop!"

He didn't need anymore prompting. His hand slipped inside the car, and found my right tit. True to my request, the boy scratched gently all around the firm white boob. My nipple started to get harder as the boy's hand became bolder. His fingers found my nipple, and started twisting it, firmly, but with a bit more pressure then I thought he would. A soft moan escaped my lips.

"Oh, Alex. That feels so good. Do the other one too!"

Now, to reach the left boob, he had to lean more into the car. And when he did, he saw my pussy was bare. He jumped like he'd just spotted a snake.

"Hey, baby, it's okay. Just touch the left one now."

"You ain't got no panties on!"

"I know. You like the way my pussy looks?"

"I ain't never seen a woman's pussy before."

"You haven't! Well, take a good look. You like it?" He looked once more in Patrick's direction. Then, looking back at me, (or maybe at my pussy) he sort of whispered.

"Can I touch it?"

I didn't answer. Instead, I just smiled at the boy, leaned back against the seat, and spread my legs for him. He reached down and put one finger in my hairy area. As soon as his finger made contact, his hand jerked back, like he'd been bit. "Hey, sweetie, relax! It won't hurt you. Go ahead, feel it up real good. Make my pussy cry for you. You ever touched a pussy before?"

"Course I have! I get around. I've just never touched a woman as old as you. I mean...I don't mean you're old, I just mean...I like your...It feels hot!"

I could tell by how skittish he was that he'd never seen a real pussy, let alone touch one. But that didn't matter. What he lacked in experience he made up for with enthusiasm. His hand was fondling my cunt like he was a gynecologist. I was a bit surprised, however, when he slipped his middle finger inside me. And when he did, the knuckle on his thumb rubbed against my clitoris, making me hotter still. The boy's head was inside the car. I leaned forward just a bit and nibbled on his ear. And he jerked back again. This boy was nervous!

He returned to his hand movements, and I returned to his ear. This time, instead of biting it, I ran my tongue around it, licking the lobes, and the nape of his neck. "Is there anything I can do for you?" I whispered against his neck, licking it, kissing it. His hand was all over my cunt now, but he hadn't established any sort of rhythm. It felt good, but I would never be able to achieve a climax with his method of pussy-fore play. He didn't answer my question, so I continued to whisper to him, to allow my words to be delivered to his ears on hot short breaths. "If you'll unzip your pants and pull your cock out, I'll give it a little kiss. Would you like that?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he pulled his fingers out of my pussy, withdrew his head from the car and stood next to the window, looking back to the office window. Then, without looking back in to the car, I watched as he unzipped his pants, and pulled open the zipper. He put his hands on the top of the car, and leaned into me.

"You've got to take your cock out, sweetie. I can't suck it if I can't reach it."

"Oh, sorry ma'am. I'm a little nervous." With that he withdrew his stiff cock from inside his jeans. Now he might have been young, but that dick wasn't! It was larger than Patrick's! I was at eye level with his cock.

"Now, lean into the car, sweetie, bring it close enough for me to suck."

He didn't have to be told twice. His boy dick was just inches from my face. I made up the difference. Leaning over, toward the open window, (and invading cock) I allowed my mouth to be pierced by his hard penis. I could sense the boy had never had his cock sucked before. He'll never forget me, I thought. Patrick told me once that a man never forgets his first fuck or his first blow job!

As his cock sunk deeper inside my mouth, I became more aroused. I started to moan softly as I continued to suckle this young boy's hard penis. He was pumping his hips back and forth, trying to get more of his cock into my mouth. His balls were still inside his jeans. I would have loved to lick them too! His cock was getting excited, and I knew he wouldn't be able to hold off long. I tried to remember how long it had been since I'd sucked off a boy this young. As I continued to accept him in my mouth, my mind wandered back, back to the vacation we had taken in Jamaica last summer.

The boy that summer had been young, too. I first thought he must be nineteen or twenty.. It was not ill after I'd already had him that his true age became known to me. I was horrified. I'd actually had sex with a boy that age!. But he was certainly not built like a boy! It happened by accident, actually. This is not to say that I hadn't planned to get some strange cock while on vacation, it was only that I hadn't planned on giving my favors to a boy.

His name was Julius. And he was beautiful. When we checked into our hotel room, it was Julius who had taken our bags up to our room. Patrick noticed me looking at the boy's cute ass, and asked me if I intended to rob the kiddie section while we were there.

"Don't be silly! He's just a kid."

"They grow up quick in the Islands, sweetie. And I know you've always wanted to be the first fuck of some kid. I don't mind if you want to fuck him."

This didn't come as a shock. Patrick wouldn't mind if I fucked a kangaroo, as long as he could watch! As we followed the boy, I realized for the first time that he wasn't exactly white. He wasn't black either, sort of a mixture.

"Mulatto," Patrick said.

"What?" My husband's voice had broken into the private world of my fantasies.

"Mulatto. Half black and half white."

It amazes me how Patrick can always seem to know what I'm thinking. It's a good thing we have such an open relationship. If I ever saw someone I wanted to fuck, and didn't tell my husband, he'd know anyway. Luckily that's not a problem I ever face. Our deal is simple. I spot 'em, I come on to them, and I fuck 'em. Unless Patrick tells me otherwise. Only twice has he told me I couldn't fuck someone, and both times he was right. But right then, while watching the boy walk ahead of us, up the steps of the bungalow we had rented for the rest of the month, my mind was turning over the possibilities of tasting a bit of the Island, if you follow my drift!

"He is kinda cute," I remarked to my husband.

"And I'll bet he's hung like a horse!" Patrick replied.

That was the end of the discussion about Julius, and for the next few weeks I spent most of my days on the beach and my nights either in the club near our house, or in bed, with my husband and our new found friends. It was not till I had a conversation with a new lover, Marci, that I learned the true nature of the Island boys. She and I were in bed, both of us blown away by an incredibly hot love making session, when the subject of Julius' brother came up.

His name was Ramone, and there should have been a law against any person being that well built. Marci was telling me that Ramone was particularly adept at licking pussy, but that his real claim to fame rested on his seemingly inexhaustible hard-ons. Marci told me that Ramone had fucked both her, and her husband, come in both their mouths, as well as her pussy, her husband's ass, plus masturbated all over her breasts, neck and face! All in one evening. What she felt the worst about was that when the boy left their room that night, his cock was still bone hard! That's when she asked me if I'd fucked Julius yet. I felt really strange, having to say no, I hadn't seriously considered it, when Marci made the decision for me.

"Well, if you're not going to use him, do you mind if I do? I've just gotta know if he's as good as his older brother."

"No, Marci," I began, "I think I might have just the job for that young man. But you can certainly have him when I'm finished."

"Great. Tell you what. You have a time with Julius, and then I'll send Ramone over to finish you off. Heavens knows I can't wear the boy out!"

The next afternoon, Julius was up at the house, helping me prepare supper. I was wearing my string bikini, and an apron over it. From the front I looked quite domestic, but when I turned around, all you saw was the strings from the suit. My backside was almost totally naked, including my fine, taunt ass! I made sure I did a lot of turning around, too. I wanted to be sure Julius could see as much as me as he could use, in fact, I wanted to put him into overload. It didn't take long.

He was sitting across from me as I was peeling a cucumber. After finishing the third one, I realized how much it looked like a cock, except for the color of course. (It's always been my policy to avoid green cocks.) I offered the cucumber to Julius, thinking he might be hungry. He declined to take a bite. So I did. I slowly brought the slimy peeled vegetable to my mouth, and slipped it past my lips, but not biting, only sucking, slurping, swirling my tongue around it and bobbing my head down the shaft. My point was not lost on the boy. His eyes had not left my lips since I'd begun the cucumber seduction!

After about two minutes of this, I set the cucumber on the counter and motioned for him to come to me.

"Yes'm?" He asked

"Julius, could your reach behind me and undo my apron strings, please?"

He started to walk around behind me, but I stopped him. "No, sweetie, just reach around me."

When he did, his face was less than an inch away from my breasts. I pushed forward, and closed that gap. The boy did not pull away, but rather seemed to bury his face in the valley between my two 38DD bikini cups. His hands fumbled around behind us, trying to find the right strings. I felt the strings loosen, but they were not the apron strings. Rather, he had undone the top to my bathing suit. As his face pulled away from my breasts, the top of my suit fell forward also. Now he was staring at my naked breasts. Now he could see my hardened nipples poking straight at him. I considered what to tell him next when I realized the boy was not as shy as he looked or acted.

On his own power, Julius leaned forward and placed his mouth on my left nipple, while handling the right one with firmness but gentleness. He sucked my nipple into his mouth, as his fingers twisted the other with the dexterity of someone trying to open a safe, a box full of treasure. My hands found the tie that held his pants around his waist, and without breaking off his oral assault on my breast, I managed to loosen the tie, and let his pants fall around his ankles. I could not see the cock I had just freed, so when my hands plunged downward, into the space I imagined I would find his small, boy-like cock, I was mortified to find myself feeling a dick larger than my husband's. And this young man wasn't even fully hard yet!

I pushed his head away from the sucking he was doing. It was my turn to suck now. I slid from the stool on which I'd been sitting, to the kitchen floor. Neither of us needed to be told what we wanted. I wanted to feel Julius' cock in my mouth, and he wanted to put it there! I sucked his hard dick for what seemed like an hour before we heard Patrick come in the front door. Julius hadn't come yet, but I knew he was close. At the point that I anticipated his squirting his load down my throat, the slamming of the front door scared my young lover to the point that he suddenly forced his cock into his pants, and headed for the window.

Patrick came into the kitchen, realized what he'd interrupted and started to laugh. "What's so funny?" I asked, pissed that I'd been cheated of my young lover's cum.

"Nothing, really," my husband responded as his laughing started to subside. "I just can't believe a thirteen year old boy would try to fuck anyone like you!"

"Meaning?"

"Fuck, Rachael, when I was his age, I'd have been terrified of a woman who looked like you. I mean, you aren't the average woman you know."

"I guess that's a compliment. And I wasn't trying to fuck him. I only wanted to taste his...What do you mean...thirteen?"

"That's how old he is. I ran into Marci and Ron on the way back to the house, and Marci was bragging about her young island lover, someone named Ramone. Turns out he's Julius' older brother. Two years older. And Ramone is only fifteen!"

I was shocked! I had been trying to seduce a child! But his cock wasn't the cock of a child. And he had gotten out the window before we completed anything, but still...My thoughts of Julius vanished as I continued to suck the gas station attendant through my car window. He was starting to convulse his penis now, and I knew it was only a matter of seconds before I relieved this handsome youngster of his load and I wanted to swallow it all.

I would have, too, had Patrick not chosen that very moment to come out of the station's office. My gas station lad was in the middle of shooting his load down my throat when he spotted my husband walking toward the car.

"Oh, shit, lady. Your old man's coming!"

Before I had a chance to tell him it's alright, that my husband didn't care if I sucked off a stranger, if I exposed my pussy to a man whose name I didn't know, if I gave up my pussy to a passing man, a man who I wouldn't ever see again. My husband didn't care, but the boy didn't wait to find that out. One moment I was swallowing the boy's hot come, the next his cock was gone, leaving only a small final shot of his juice hanging from my chin.

Patrick got in the car. I was so frustrated. Twice in the last half hour, my mouth had been used, had been fucked, by males I would never see again, and neither one had the decency to say, "thanks." If my fantasy tonight was to be a whore, I was certainly getting it fulfilled!

My husband, if he had noticed what was going on, didn't say anything. He started the car, put it into gear, and began moving toward the street. He stopped just before returning to traffic. Looking at me, he only said, "Tsk, tsk! Rachael, you are so sloppy sometimes. Look here." With this he reached over to my chin and scooped up the last remnant of the boy's excitement off my skin. Catching it with his fore finger, he only shook his head. And then fed it to me right off his finger. I took it eagerly!

We were back on the street, heading toward the theater where Patrick would finish this night of forbidden passion. And I sat next to him, dress open, pussy and breasts exposed, hands cuffed behind my back, and wondering. Wondering if I would suck more cocks tonight. And wondering if I would ever get fucked!

To Be Continued...

* * * * *

Drop her or me a note at the link below.



The Police Woman



(Author's Note: Just popping in to note that I've mostly enjoyed the reception my previous stories received, and I hope you like this one. It has no connection with those stories - for the time being, at least. If you are under 18, you shouldn't be on this site anyway, but it bears repeating: this is for adults. All the characters in it are at least 18. Last of all, yes, I am aware that I don't write realistic stories. If any of you get magic powers that allow you to turn random women into horny bimbos, though, please let me know, and feel free to visit me.)

*

We were just about to finish our shift when the dispatch came through. Obviously. Hey, guys, there's some crazy ass motherfucker wigging out on the corner of Parrott and Delorme. You guys are pretty close, right? Why don't you go check that out? Who cares if you've got other places to be? Go and find the headcase, and then come back so we can make you fill out reams of paperwork about the headcase.

"Goddammit," I growled when I heard the location. If the folks at Dispatch were screwing around, I promised myself I would rip out their intestines and hang their smart asses from the ceiling. A few weeks back, they'd sent three patrol cars after a supposed robbery in progress, over on Compton Road. Until, that is, they realized that Hugh Jass might not be an actual person. I couldn't believe those clowns at Dispatch were allowed out of their fucking playpens, what with how much competence they'd demonstrated.

"Oh, that's right, you had a date, didn't you, Ellen?" said my partner Rick, as he made a U-turn and flipped on the lights and sirens. I'd just made a grumpy confirmation to Dispatch. And I didn't particularly feel like getting shit from Rick "I've-Asked-Out-Every-Girl-Living-Or-Dead" DiFontano. Particularly since he didn't seem to think I was a member of the fairer sex. Or maybe he just wasn't into Asians. Whatever. I would've turned him down, anyway.

"Shut up and drive," I replied. He was right, of course. But it wasn't just any date I'd gotten. I'd managed to get the hottest cop in the whole county, Mike O'Connor, to agree to a night out. All the other girls in the precinct had been jealous of me, except for my friend Tina Alvarez from Vice. She had more of a thing for Lieutenant Swanson, but Tina had always been a bit weird.

He started to say something, and I shot him a withering glare. If my eyes had shot daggers, he'd've been a pincushion. If I could've lit a match with a look, he would've turned into a strikingly hot inferno. If this had been an Indiana Jones movie, his face would've melted off. As it was, he just shut up. And kept driving.

We reached the area of the report, and sure enough, there was some nutjob running around. He was shrieking something, though it was hard to make out. Rick brought us to an abrupt stop and killed the sirens. I was caught up in reporting to Dispatch, so I didn't notice that he'd already gotten out until I heard the shrieks redouble in volume.

The man's arms were flailing around as Rick tried to get him to settle down. It didn't seem to be working, so I dropped the report and hopped out of the car. "Settle down, sir," Rick kept saying. "Please, settle down, and come with us, so we can get this sorted out. If you don't, I'll be forced to arrest you as a public nuisance, sir."

But the moment I met his eye, something changed. He inhaled deeply and seemed to remember something. "Good," he said, looking into my eyes. "Good. Good." Somehow, I had the feeling he was seeing deeper than I even knew.

"Wow, Ellen, you got him enthralled," Rick said, as I stepped up next to him. He slapped me on the ass. "Next, you just put-"

Rick never got to finish that sentence, because the crazy guy snarled and launched himself at Rick. He sunk his teeth into Rick's shoulder, and his nails into Rick's face. If I'd been able to, I would've just savored the tableau unfolding before me. My annoying partner getting mauled by a headcase, apparently for patting my ass.

Sadly, duty called. With a sigh, I pulled out my stick and waded in. I drew my arm back, holding the stick exactly like they had taught at the academy. This was going to leave a mark.

Before it landed, though, the guy seemed to realize that something was going on. He looked up from where Rick was fruitlessly attempting to fend him off, and his eyes widened. "Good," he said, and rolled off of Rick, holding his hands up. "Good. Good. Good," he repeated, locking his eyes with mine. I lowered my stick and stowed it on my belt again. He still held my gaze, long past the point where it was disturbing.

"Help me up, won't you?" Rick groaned, panting on the ground. I was pulling out my handcuffs to get John Doe into the back of the car. The formerly violent man wasn't even resisting me. He actually got up and put his hands behind his back.

"Probably not a good idea, don't you think?" I pointed out. "Last time we touched, this guy tried to bite your head off. Literally." I put the cuffs on John Doe and opened the back door. "Mind your head," I told him. He ducked obligingly as he got inside.

"You gonna take him out, Ellen?" Rick asked, trying to push himself to his feet. He was on his knees, but his wobbly stomach seemed to be keeping him there. "Or you just gonna fuck him?"

"You want me to report you to IA, Rick?" I replied sweetly. "Or should I just kick the shit outta you?" He reddened but shut up. John Doe had managed to draw blood with his fingernails, giving Rick a little red slice on his forehead. It made him look much better than usual, and I indulged, for just a second, in imagining Rick covered in blood.

I laughed and finally gave him a hand. He grunted as he rose to his feet. "What's so funny?" he asked suspiciously. I shook my head, then nodded it back at the car. Rick laughed too, though I don't think he knew what he was laughing at.

John Doe didn't seem to be perturbed at the sight of me helping my partner up. He was just staring at me, eyes wide. His eyes followed me as I got into my seat. It felt so creepy that I started tingling, as though I could feel the impact of his stare.

I called in the incident, and Rick put the car back in gear. There was no one nearby to ask about John Doe, so we turned around and headed into the station. An idle thought ran through my head: Parrott and Delorme was a fucking wasteland. On all four corners, there was nothing. Yet someone had somehow seen John Doe and bothered to tell us about him. Who could that have been? And why would they call us?

Before I could say anything, I felt my brain tingle. It occurred to me that whoever it was could've been passing through. Or maybe they were an ex-con who didn't want to deal with cops. That made more sense than some dark conspiracy, or whatever I'd been about to concoct in my imagination. Just people being people.

I rubbed my ass. Man, there were some times I hated having to wear pants on the job. I'd gotten a real butt when I'd gone into puberty, and it had thrown off my martial arts for a bit. Since then, I'd learned to cope, but it was still hard to find clothing to fit my butt and the rest of my body, which was as slender as you'd expect. When I was off duty, I kinda liked to wear skirts, because they gave me some room to breathe.

"Ellen..." Rick started to say. I put up a hand to forestall him.

"Rick, if you're going to do that whole 'junk in the trunk' thing again, I swear I'll throw you out of the window," I told him. "It's not funny, and I don't like it. At the very least, I'll definitely report you for harassment."

He looked bewildered. "I didn't..." he stammered. "I never..."

"Just shut your trap and let's get this over with," I said. "Seriously, Rick, you might think you're God's gift to women just 'cause you've got a badge and a gun, but you need a hell of a lot more than that." His mouth opened and closed like a fish trying to breath air. "And did it ever occur to you that I might not like having an ass like this? Maybe it gets in the way quite a bit?"

Wisely, he shut up, but not before sneaking a glance, his eyes wide. It wasn't the first time he'd looked at me like that, nor was he the only man to do so. And every time I thought I was used to the comments, I got another, throwing me off my game. I really should've been used to it by now, but maybe it was just wishful thinking. Maybe I was naive to think that people would treat me professionally, just because I was being professional.

When we reached the precinct, I led John Doe out of the back. He seemed to have calmed down, and this time, he just hissed at Rick, rather than trying to attack him. Still, Rick gave him a wide berth. I almost laughed again, but managed to hold it in. My scalp tingled a bit, and I reached up to scratch it.

"So, this is the guy who managed to beat up poor Rick," said Charlotte, the African-American desk sergeant. John Doe beamed at her, and she chuckled. "He's a real hard one, huh?" she said to Rick, who glowered at all of us.

"I dunnoh what he's thinking," Rick said, trying to just shrug it off. "He's just nuts, that's all. Maybe he's just got a thing for chicks, who the hell knows?" Charlotte and I exchanged smirks.

I started to maneuver John Doe away, towards the holding cells, when Charlotte held up a hand. "By the way, Ellen," she said. "I know you've got that wonderful head of hair, but you know it's supposed to be up when you're on duty, right?"

"Oh, sorry, Sarge," I said, feeling at the back of my neck. Sure enough, my ass-length curtain of straight black hair had come undone. It had all cascaded down in all of its glory. Must've been when I'd been cuffing John Doe. "I'm about to go off the clock, okay? Just gotta take this guy to the lockup."

"Alright, I suppose," Charlotte replied. Her own hair looked pretty decent, and it was streaming down her back, too, but I decided not to point that out. Mostly because she was a sergeant and I was not. And that meant she might chew me out and force me to stay and do my paperwork. I had already lost too much time I could've spent on my date with Mike. He might understand, what with both of us being cops, if I were late, but I didn't want to chance it.

When I got to the lockup part of the precinct, I found my least favorite cop in the whole world, Kristine Jensen, on duty there. That blond bitch thought she was hot shit, just because her daddy was the police chief. Thought she could give the rest of us orders, even when I had more seniority than she did. Thought she could go behind our backs and carry stories to her daddy, because she was so fucking special. God, what a bitch.

"Much as I appreciate the offer," Kristine said, smiling lazily behind the desk, "he's supposed to be in interrogation. And the Captain said she wanted you to stay a little bit longer, to help with him." She nodded at John Doe. He smiled at her and she smiled back. God, what a slut.

"What the fuck!" I shouted in frustration. A few people nearby gave me a sidelong glance, but I ignored them. "C'mon, that's just not fair," I said, trying not to whine too much. "I'm about to go off duty."

"You can ask the Captain, if you want," Kristine said, tearing herself away from John Doe's eyes. "She was pretty clear about it, though. I think they're going to bring in Detective Ramirez, and have her take a look at him. Maybe a shrink, or something. They probably want you because he likes you. Or whatever." She unbuttoned the top part of her uniform, showing a surprising amount of cleavage.

I muttered something uncomplimentary under my breath, a little Mandarin curse word I'd picked up from Great-Uncle Ho. It implied something about the Captain's taste in men (specifically, what she liked to taste). Kristine gave me a smirk. She didn't speak any Mandarin, as far as I knew, but my tone must've said enough. God, what a slutty bitch.

"Have fun missing your date," Kristine called to me as I walked away with John Doe. I ground my teeth but said nothing. It just wasn't worth it to get into a mess with her. Even if her daddy dearest didn't listen to her complaints, she could still make my life hell in the precinct. Besides, my ass beat her boobs any day of the week.

I took John Doe to the interrogation room and said, "Have a seat, please." He sat down, as I asked, then looked up at me and smiled. I got another tingly feeling, this time around my chest. Something felt a little off about it, besides the tingles.

When I looked down, I realized that I'd forgotten to wear my usual uniform. My boobs had popped out all over the place right around the time my ass had done the same. That had made martial arts even more of a challenge, but I'd managed. And running was harder, but I still managed to bring in most of my perps. Some of them just gave themselves up when they saw my rack. Once, I'd gotten a murderer to put himself in handcuffs in exchange for a hug and a kiss. It was a bit unconventional, perhaps, but it had worked.

The only problem with being the hottest cop around was that I had to wear a special uniform to accommodate my boobs and ass. Now that I thought back to the beginning of my shift, I remembered what had happened. That klutz Tommy Czernitsky had spilled the new office water tank all over me, from head to toe. I'd borrowed a spare uniform from someone else, and all I'd needed to do was switch nametags. It was a bit of a problem, though, when all they had were normal uniforms.

Surely no one would mind if I eased my burdens just a little bit. I unfastened the top two buttons on my top. Sure, it would show a bit too much cleavage, but I was supposed to be going off duty right about now. If Detective Ramirez came in, maybe I could convince her that I should be let off babysitting John Doe.

Just as I was thinking that, the door opened, and in walked Detective Lieutenant Angelica Ramirez, and a woman I didn't recognize. The other woman was a pale-skinned redhead in a very businesslike navy blue suit. From the expression on her face, she'd just heard a joke she'd liked. Detective Ramirez was smiling, too, which was a bit unusual.

Right when the door was about to close, it swung open again, and Rupinder the Prick walked in, causing Detective Ramirez and I to groan simultaneously. Rupinder Misra, everyone's favorite humorless social worker, had a terrible reputation in the precinct. Partly it was just that her job often required her to be antagonistic to us. But our dislike of her mostly came from the fact that she went out of her way to insult us constantly. Her favorite was the "I've got way better degrees than you guys" gambit. Oh, great, you went to Yale, lah-dee-dah. Too bad they didn't teach you how not to be a bitch.

"Why is John Doe in handcuffs?" she asked briskly, and Detective Ramirez looked over at me.

I started out of a bit of a reverie. "Because he assaulted my partner, Ms. Misra," I said. "I was about to read him his rights when everyone came in here."

"That assumes he's mentally competent to understand those rights," the Prick said. "And it assumes that he was mentally competent at the time of the incident in the first place. Besides, we don't even know his name..."

"I am well aware of that, Ms. Misra," Detective Ramirez replied, with a surprising amount of patience. "That's why I asked Dr. Alexandra Wood to evaluate him. She's a clinical psychologist specializing in amnesia, and a professor at Taylor University, too. Believe me, I want to get to the bottom of this, too. And if he really was not mentally competent, I doubt we'll end up charging Mr. Doe." She gave a little smile. "Besides, he went after Rick DiFontano. No one around here would've lost sleep if John Doe here had killed that little scumbag." I could only agree with Detective Ramirez on that count.

"Please, call me Alex," Dr. Wood said. "Based off of the description I got, this seems very much like a fugue state. A dissociative fugue, to be more technical. It can be seen as a subtype of what we call dissociative amnesia. This is characterized by a subject having difficulty retrieving stored memories, even to the point of losing their identity. A fugue state is often reversible, but it can last anywhere from hours to years."

"Umm, Detective Ramirez," I interjected meekly. Everyone in the room turned to look at me, various levels of annoyance on their faces. "My shift is supposed to be over, and if you don't mind, I'd like to clock out. I mean, if you don't need me here..." I trailed off.

"No, Officer Zhou, I'm going to need you," the detective said. "We're going to need your description of the events that led to John Doe's detention, in order to decide whether to arrest him formally. And you've demonstrated a certain rapport with him, which might be useful." She stroked her chin meditatively. "On the other hand, we don't need you right now. Why don't you take a bathroom break? If you've got plans for the evening, you can get those figured out while you're out."

"Okay," I said, ducking out of the room. Behind me, I could hear the Prick renew her argument, until the door closed completely. I pulled my cell phone out of my tight pocket, and saw that Mike had texted me.

"Heard you had to stay late. Reschedule?" his message said. My brain tingled a bit, and I tried to remember my schedule for the next few days. I had the same shift for the rest of the week, but on Thursday and Friday, I was going to be doing a little freelancing at Paradise, the "gentlemen's" club down the street from my apartment. When I'd moved into the neighborhood, I'd thought it was a bad place, but it turned out that putting my assets to a good use could make me a hell of a lot of money.

"Saturday," I replied, then stowed my phone again. As I walked towards the bathroom, I passed the locker room. My brain tingled again, and I had a good idea. I didn't really have much in there, aside from my keys and some clothes I'd been planning to wear on my date. If I packed them up, I could save some time when Detective Ramirez let me go.

I opened up my locker and got out my keys and my clothes. Maybe a more modest woman would've found the clothes embarrassingly skimpy. I was a woman who made part of her living from showing off her naked body, so modesty wasn't my top concern. The keys fit in my pocket only with a huge amount of effort, so I didn't bother trying to wedge in my clothes, even though they were pretty small.

Actually, it turned out I didn't really need to go to the bathroom that much. All I really needed was a chance to walk around a bit. Pretty soon, I was marching back into the interrogation room, carrying my clothes.

When I opened the door to the interrogation room, I nearly dropped my clothes out of sheer astonishment. The Prick was smiling. She was wearing her usual "I'm a professional with a new set of tits" clothes, but somehow, she was smiling. Maybe she'd just gotten the memo about how men react best to hot women when the hot women aren't frowning. It was a pretty good look on her, actually. I reached up and unfastened another button without really thinking about it.

"We need to find out who this guapetón ees, chicas," Angel said in her fluid accent. "Esomeone must know quien él es. Loook at heem! Would choo pass up esuch a estud?" Alexandra blushed and stammered, "N-n-no," then licked her thick, cocksucking lips.

God, Angel had no idea how much I envied her that accent. It was liquid sex for the ear. My folks had been in America too long for me to have a sexy accent. And even if I did have an accent, it would probably just make people think of chopsticks and General Tso's Chicken.

"'Ut i' he hash dish 'ugue thing," Rupinder said, "how can we 'ind out who he ish?" Her lips weren't moving much. That was probably the most irritating thing about her. If Rupinder's mushmouth came from some freak accident, she had all my sympathies. But if this was some weird affectation, she was obviously a total bitch. My guess was that it was an affectation.




The Police Woman



"Um, I know this may seem odd," Alexandra interjected, "but my clothes are really itchy. Can I take them off? I- I don't want to disturb anyone, but..." She trailed off nervously, scratching at her chest.

"Esure you cahn, mi chica," said Angel. "_¿No somos mojigatas, sí?_ Chust eshow us yoor _chichis_ hwenever joo like." I didn't know a lot of Spanish, but I got the gist of it. And I completely agreed. There was nothing wrong with the furiously blushing redhead taking off every scrap of clothing, as she had started to do. Unrestrained, her _chichis_, as Angel called them, were even bigger than mine. But I had a much better ass.

Alli sat back down, her giant breasts slapping against the table. Her whole body seemed red with embarrassment, but I had a sneaking suspicion she enjoyed the humiliation. Part of that may've been that I could see the fluid that was leaking from her pussy onto the chair. The other part was that her nipples were rock-hard.

"As long as we're, like, changing clothes and stuff, can I, like, put on my cool clothes?" I asked, and Angel nodded. I had no qualms about taking my clothes off in front of other people. In fact, I briefly considered asking everyone else in the room for money, for the show I was going to put on. But that might've taken things a little too far.

I grabbed my borrowed uniform shirt and pulled hard. The overstressed buttons popped off, flying all over the place. One of them bounced off of Rupi's plasticky head. Another struck Alli's right titty, causing it to quiver. When I looked closer, I could see that a bead of white liquid had formed at the point of her right nipple.

"Ohhhhh... moooooooo..." she groaned. "Sooooo... gooooooood..." She squeezed both of her titties, sending a stream of milk into Rupi's wide-open mouth. It was a great bit of nourishment for Rupi, who was the best precinct sex doll anyone could want. With a herky-jerky motion, she silently wiped some of the milk from her face, using her straight hand, the one she used for the female officers. Her circular blowjob hand usually saw a bit more use, since there were more male officers.

More milk spilled from Alli's titties, all over the table. Angel looked slightly annoyed. "I tought dat joo wass goin' to meelk yoorself before we came een here, chica," she said. "Deed I noht tell joo dat, joo vaca estupida?"

"Moooooo," Alli said in response. Her big brown eyes were vacant of thought. When I looked into them, all I could see was milk, and the promise of milk to come.

With a start, I realized that I had forgotten to finish undressing. Alli was just that sexy. I tossed my ruined shirt aside and began the task of extracting myself from my pants. This was a task that required some serious pushing and pulling. Man, I really should've remembered my normal clothes. By the time my borrowed pants hit the ground, they were coming apart in several places. Tina was going to have a lot of trouble wearing these again.

I unfolded my change of clothes and started putting them on. The chest was a bit tighter than I'd expected, but my top was partly spandex, so it fit well enough. Why had I even bought these clothes, when they obviously didn't fit me that well? I shook my head. They looked pretty nice, so that was probably why I'd picked them up.

John Doe shifted next to Rupi, catching my eye. I'd almost forgotten about him, and I wasn't entirely sure why. Now that I got a good look at him, though, I had no idea why I'd taken my eyes off of him in the first place. He was so handsome and dreamy. His arms rippled with muscles, and...

Ah-ha. The voice echoed through my head, and I froze. That's how that works. I'd totally forgotten how to do that. Where could it be coming from?

Confused, I looked back at John Doe. He smiled at me and nodded. It's good to actually be able to talk to you, Ellie. I mean, aside from saying, "Good," like some retard.

"You're actually talking to me," I said in disbelief. "Angelica, I mean, Angel! Alli! Rupi! Something weird is happening!"

The other three women were all busy with their own pleasures. Angel was sucking from Alli's leaky tits while she fingered herself, swapping nipples every so often to milk the redhead evenly. Rupi was under the table, her plasticky ass sticking out. I could see her licking Alli's bare pussy, tongue sticking out as usual. I'd seen Rupi doing that thousands of times - or had I?

Oh, dear, John Doe said. It looks like you're a bit confused, Ellie. Was that my actual name? Didn't I hate being called Ellie? Because it was demeaning, or something vaguely feministish? Perhaps if I fuck you, you'll feel a lot better.

"Yes! Yes, I would!" I exclaimed. It was the perfect solution. Gosh, John Doe was brilliant. He was the smartest smarty around!

I bent down onto the table and spread my legs, ignoring the fact that my skirt was ripping itself apart. That just made it easier for John Doe to get at me. With one last groan, I split it the rest of the way, leaving only a bit of material at the waist intact. My skirt was still on me, but it now covered up nothing important.

John Doe's hands gripped me from behind, and I felt skin pushing up against my cunt. His cock brushed against my clit, and I shuddered. Could I get an orgasm just from having my clit touched? His cock touched my rock-hard clit again, and I got my answer.

"Ooooooh fuuuuuuck!" I screamed as I orgasmed. John Doe took the opportunity to slip his cock in my dripping cunt and begin fucking me in earnest. I bucked and screamed with another orgasm the moment his cock entered me. Why wasn't sex always this good?

He slammed me forward against the table, and I felt something wet on my cheek. I opened my eyes again, and found that a lot of Alli's milk had ended up on the table, and that it was pooling near me. I lapped a bit up, and orgasmed again. Alli had such delicious milk, as if all her orgasms had gone into her breasts.

Another powerful thrust from John Doe reminded me that I was getting fucked, and I giggled. That was so Ellie, getting distracted by milk while a hot guy was plowing me from behind. His hands reached around to cup my breasts through my top. I felt his fingers touch my diamond-hard nipples, and I orgasmed once again.

Every time John Doe touched me, like magic, I orgasmed. Every time he thrust deeper, I orgasmed. Every time I lapped up another bit of Alli's milk, I orgasmed. By the time I heard John Doe grunt, and felt his cum shoot into my cunt, I must've orgasmed, like, I dunnoh how many times. And of course, when he stuffed me full of his cum, I orgasmed for what felt like forever.

When I came down from that orgasm-induced high, I found myself sprawled across the table. My cunt was still wet as hell, though some of the might've been John Doe's cum. A squirt of something wet hit me in the face, and I licked it up. Alli had given me a little milk, and I orgasmed once again. John Doe had taken Rupi out from under the table, and was holding her upside down. His cock was deep inside the sex doll's cunt. She seemed completely unfazed at being fucked upside down. For her, it was just a very sexy handstand.

"Oooh, chica," said Angel. "Joo are esoooo esexy! Can I leeck yoor panocha, yoor poosy?" I nodded, and Angel got on her knees. She wasn't quite able to reach me, so I sat up and scooted a little closer. At last, I felt her tongue flicker over my clit, and I moaned in pleasure, closing my eyes.

Skin brushed up against my face, and I opened my eyes. Alli was standing over me, a big, vacant smile on her dumb cow face. "Mooooooo," she said, then got up onto the table. She straddled me and aimed a nipple towards my mouth.

"Great idea, Alli!" I said, taking the offered nipple between my lips. At the same time, I reached down and started rubbing at Alli's cunt. She mooed again, and I went deeper, slipping two fingers into her sopping wet cunt. Her mooing became louder and louder, until she climaxed.

Her climax sent an extra helping of milk into my mouth, which I swallowed as fast as I could. The milk, combined with my preexisting state of horniness and Angel's licking, brought me to a sort of dazed multi-orgasmic paradise. I knew that I was shaking with orgasms, and that my two companions were shaking with me. But I felt sort of disconnected from all of that, drifting through a haze of pleasure.

At some point, it had to come to an end, and that was a big disappointment. I came out of it feeling utterly spent and pleasantly buzzed. That had to have been a world record for "best orgasm ever". All I could do was sit there and grin, as Angel and Alli fell to the side, panting in exhaustion.

Well, that was all lovely, John Doe told me in my mind, but it's time for us to get out of here. Make yourselves a little more presentable, girls. I nodded, and started wringing the milk out of my hair. There was nothing I could do about my ripped up skirt, or my milk-drenched top, but I could try and make my hair a little less wet.

Rupi didn't need much work to make herself presentable, though she looked awkward while doing it. Sex dolls always had a sort of herky-jerky motion to them, which I supposed had to do with actual dolls, like Barbies. But it could be inconvenient at times, and it was hard to make it look sexy.

Angel and Alli were licking each other clean, giggling and shuddering as they did so. Those two were so airheaded, that even I was smarter than them. I didn't know how intelligent Rupi was, because she couldn't talk, though I did remember something about her going to Harvard. Which was silly. Sex dolls didn't go to the Ivy Leagues.

We're going to need a nice diversion to get ourselves out of here, John Doe said, rebut toning his shirt. He closed his eyes and grimaced. I imagined that I could feel something pass through me, like a wave of energy. It felt nice, like I was being tickled in all the best places. A wave of giggles came out of my mouth, and I could hear Angel and Alli following suit. Rupi, being a sex doll, said nothing.

That's what I'm talking about. John Doe sounded very satisfied with himself. We just need to wait a little bit, and the coast will be clear. The women will be uninterested in stopping us, and the men will be... busy. He grinned, and I grinned back at him.

The five of us stood there for a little while, not doing much, which was hard. All four of us ladies wanted to have sex, because we were still so horny. Or, at least, I presumed Rupi wanted sex, since she still wasn't talking. But any time one of us let a hand stray towards anyone's pussy, John Doe shot us a hard glance, and we pulled back. I guess it just wasn't time for sexy business.

After some time, we started hearing the sounds of orgasms through the walls. John Doe nodded and gestured us forward. I was about to move when something occurred to me. "Uh, wait a minute," I said. "You, like, never told us your name."

John Doe looked startled, then thoughtful. I... I don't know my name, he told me finally. It's just not there. You've been calling me John Doe. Why don't you keep calling me that? It's as good a name as any.

I nodded, and John opened the door. The interrogation room had seen plenty of debauchery since we'd gone into it, and that seemed to have spilled out onto the floor of the precinct. Every woman in the place seemed to have gotten plumped-up and bimboey. Every man in the place seemed to be fucking the women. I saw Kristine Jensen getting all three holes stuffed by a balding detective and two junkies who had been in the holding cells. Served her right for being such a stuck-up bitch. And my boobies were way bigger than hers. So there.

Rupi slowed us down just a little, but that meant we could take in some of the sights around us. Two high school seniors, working as interns, were plowing into Delores, the captain's secretary, who must've been four times their age. Or perhaps the same age as them, which is what she looked like. Sometimes I had trouble remembering.

Right next to them, a white girl wearing an intern badge was taking it hard from a burly black patrolman. She grinned stupidly ahead, her enormous tits shaking as her new friend screwed the brains out of her silly head. A Hispanic guy from Personnel saw her empty mouth and unzipped his pants, a big grin on his face. None of them so much as glanced at the five of us.

Being around this many men is not pleasant, John Doe said, and I saw him shudder. And I can't affect them the way I can affect you, my dears. I smiled at what he was "saying". But I'm not surprised that lesser men are distracted by your lovely sisters. I pouted a bit. They're not as lovely as you, Ellie, he added, and my pout subsided.

We passed the conference room, where the Captain was on top of the table. Her titties hung down, nipples brushing against the table. A fat consultant had his cock up her ass while the other men in the room either jacked their cocks onto the table, or partook of a female consultant. Even though the door was closed, I could hear the Captain barking as the consultant thrust himself into her asshole.

At last, we reached the lobby, and found two separate little parties. In one corner, Tina Alvarez had shacked up with Lieutenant Swanson, and a young man who looked like he might be related to Lieutenant Swanson. That was when I remembered hearing that the kid's mom had needed to go on a business trip, so the kid had come in to work with his dad. Well, Junior Swanson, whatever his name was, sure was getting an education. Right now, he was becoming very familiar with Tina's mouth.

Behind the desk, an African-American bimbo who vaguely resembled Charlotte, the desk sergeant, was taking it hard from three other cops. I recognized my partner Rick on Charlotte's mouth. The other two were unfamiliar to me. Perhaps they were from another precinct. But they seemed just as happy as Rick to be screwing Charlotte.

John threw open the double doors at the front of the precinct, and stepped out into the evening. Free! he exclaimed, and I smiled, as did Angel and Alli. Rupi couldn't smile, but I bet she was happy, too. How could she not be happy for John, our Master?

A big, black SUV turned left on to the street in front of the precinct. John seemed to zero in on the SUV, narrowing his eyes. The SUV screeched to a halt, and the driver's side door opened.

"Come on, Cassandra, get out," said the driver, who was taking her own advice. She was an older-looking blond woman. Her clothes were really boring, but I knew John could improve her body, at least. "We gotta get into the backseat. Master says so."

John stepped out into the street, carefully looking both ways. Ellie, you take the driver's seat. Callista and Cassandra will ride in the back with me, he said. The previous driver, who I assumed was Callista, opened the rear door, and John hopped in. Angel and Alli, you can ride in the middle. Don't get milk everywhere. Rupi, you're up front in the passenger's seat, because you won't distract the driver as much.

"Mooom!" said the blond young woman in the passenger's seat. "What's going on here? This is so weird. What are you doing?" John frowned, and Cassandra stopped talking, unbuckled her seatbelt, stepped out, and got into the back with her mother. Angel and Alli got into the middle, giggling the whole way.

Rupi had a long way to go, and she was the slowest, so I took the time to settle in. Angel and Alli both seemed to be having trouble with their seatbelts, but I buckled mine instantly. Even if I wasn't some kind of Einstein, I was definitely smarter than either of them put together. At last, I took mercy on them, as they struggled to put the buckles into their holders. "Imagine Master's sticking his cock in your pussy," I told them, and shortly thereafter, I heard two clicks.

When Rupi got in and buckled herself in, I looked back in the mirror. Cassandra and Callista sat on either side of John, and both looked a lot hotter than they had before. "Where do you wanna go, Master?" I asked, as the blonds' titties got noticeably bigger.

He looked up, and smiled. You should know where, he said, and now that I thought about it, he was right. The answer was already in my mind. "Thanks, Master," I said, as I put the car into "D", for "Drive". The whole car rumbled a little, and Alli and Angel moaned. Then they started making out, and milk spilled from Alli's titties, like usual.

As I drove, I thought a bit, which might seem unusual for a bimbo. Maybe Rupi was thinking, too, but she still couldn't talk. She was, instead, sliding her straight hand into her pussy, as deep as her joints would let her get. But I couldn't help but think: why was I John's driver? Why was I even capable of thinking? Why wasn't I just another giggly slut? Why did I even think of him as John, and not as Master?

Because you were the first person I've ever known to show me even a little kindness, John said to me. I looked in the rearview mirror, and saw Callie and Cassie giggling as they ripped off the shreds of their old, boring clothes. It was almost impossible to tell the twins apart. I barely remember what happened before we met, but what I do remember is not kind. You were willing to trust me, just a little bit. And you're a beautiful woman, too. I blushed at his compliment.

Then something occurred to me. Obviously, John had the power to change women's minds and bodies. Our escape had more than demonstrated that. "Uh, Master? Did you change me?" I asked, turning onto a highway.

John threw his head back in silent laughter. No, Ellie, I didn't change a thing about you. You're perfect just the way you are. Why mess with such a good thing?



The Policeman: An Urban Legend



Officer Joe Stevenson was a happy man. He sat sipping his post-dinner coffee across the table from his beautiful eighteen year old daughter. She was still dressed in her prep school skirt as she absent mindedly twirled a strand of blonde hair that had fallen loose from the bun on her head. She was intently studying her school work oblivious to everything else. He was proud of her, she was a good, decent girl, not a straight A student, but close. 

He glanced over at his wife, Mary doing the dishes. She was a loving, supportive, and compassionate woman who devoted her free time to various community and church activities. Even after twenty years of marriage, he still got a stiffy watching her ass shake while she scrubbed the dishes. Why, if his daughter wasn't here, he'd throw his wife over the table and fuck the shit out of her right this moment. She was still a knock-out at forty and they had an active and satisfying sex life. Yeah, life is good, he thought. He had a wonderful, sexual wife and a decent daughter with a bright future. 

He was ten years older then his wife and set to retire in five years. They planned to do a lot of traveling then, as their daughter would probably still be away at college. The only thing he was unhappy about was working the 8-4 night shift with his new partner. Jackson. His partner was a handsome well-built black man, with an arrogant, cocky attitude and Joe thought he might even be a little corrupt, not to mention the fact that he smoked. Jackson was always bragging about his sexual exploits and his favorite story was how he made some married woman blow into his 10" black breathalyzer to get out of a DUI. He said that after five minutes she was begging him to fuck her with his giant black cock and he did just that. He wished Jackson was exaggerating, but he had seen his partner's dick in the shower and knew he wasn't lying. Stevenson glanced at his watch, he was supposed to drop his daughter off at the library and his wife had a church meeting to attend, so they were both coming with him. 

"Ok family, lets get a move on it." 

His wife and daughter both ran to gather up their things and joined him in the car. Joe drove his daughter to the library first and she said she'd walk home as her mom was going to be at church late. Joe wasn't worried as they lived in a very nice neighborhood and it was only a few blocks. His daughter kissed him and his wife on their cheeks and headed into the library, grabbing her bag along the way. 

Their next stop was the police station. Jackson was waiting for him in the parking lot. Joe and his wife got out of the car and Joe introduced his wife to his new partner. He saw Jackson run his eyes up and down Mary's body and he felt that his partner held onto her hand a little too long to be polite. Mary seemed a little flustered by the big black man openly staring at her, and she quickly kissed her husband goodbye as she got into the car and drove off. Jackson's eyes never left her until she was gone. 

"Man, that sure is one hot wife, you got there partner," Jackson said as they began walking into the station. 

"Thanks," Joe grunted. 

"What's she doing with an old guy like you?" the black man said jokingly. 

"Fuck you Jackson." 

"You know buddy, partners are supposed to share everything." Jackson said. "Why don't you let me introduce your wife to some black cock, so she can have some good sex for a change."

"Fuck you Jackson," he replied again. "Now shut the fuck up."

"Just kidding partner," Jackson said. 

He wasn't though. Jackson vowed that if he ever got the chance, he'd fuck Mary Stevenson until she begged to be his cock-slut and that would bring old Joe "fucking" Stevenson down a notch or two. The two gathered their gear in silence and within a few minutes were on patrol. 

********** 

What a long fucking night, thought Jackson. They'd only been patroling for two hours but it felt like forever as Joe wasn't saying much. I must have really pissed him off tonight talking about his wife. His cock stiffened a little as he thought about Mary's hot body. He hadn't gotten any pussy in three days and was horny as hell. 

They were driving along the edge of the dismal swamp and Jackson motioned for his partner to drive through the boat launch area. Teens would hang out there from time to time, making out or drinking beer. 

They cut their lights to sneak up on anyone and were plunged into an almost complete darkness expect for a little light from the moon . They saw the moon light reflecting off a solitary pickup truck parked in the far corner and they headed that way. 

Joe stopped the car about a hundred feet away so that whoever was in the pickup wouldn't hear the engines. Not that those two could hear anything, he thought, as he and Jackson got out of the car. The truck was bouncing up and down from the intense fucking going on in back. Joe stayed with the car, close to the radio and Jackson crept up to investigate. Jackson drew his billy club and peered in the back. He watched the two teens fuck for a few minutes before beating the sides of the truck with his club and yelling at the top of his lungs. 

Joe laughed as he heard the two kids screaming in fear. He watched Jackson haul the boy out while ordering the girl to stay in back. The boy was naked from the waist down and it looked like all he had on was a shirt but, Joe couldn't tell in the darkness. 

Jackson leaned the boy across the side of the truck and patted him down around his shirt, before handcuffing him. Jackson sat the boy on the back of the pick up and looked down at the girl. He turned his flashlight on and shined it on her body. She was heavily made up and looked to be in her early twenties though she was probably much younger. She had long blonde hair that framed her face prettily and had the nicest tits he had ever seen. They were big, firm and perfectly shaped. She had almost no aureola's but her nipples were big and long, about as long as that little boys cock she had just been fucking, he thought with a grin. She had managed to pull on a pair of lacy white see thru panties. The panties revealed that she was a natural blonde. Jackson had never fucked a girl with blonde pubes before and figured she'd have to be his first. 

Jackson pulled the girl out of the truck and made her assume the position.

"Bitch, I didn't give you permission to put them panties on," he barked at her. "I'm gonna have to frisk you now." 

Jackson heard her sobbing as he ran his hands down her naked sides. She gasped as he reached around and pinched her nipples. He ran his hands down over her lean, flat stomach and felt her suck it in as he ran his hand down her panty covered crotch. He ran his hands down the outsides of her legs and then up the insides of her thighs. 

"Sorry, but I gotta check you for drugs, it's the law." 

Jackson pulled down her panties and shined his light at her wet pussy. "Wait I think I see something," he said and pushed one of his long black fingers in her to the joint. She gasped and he pushed it in to the knuckle. He pushed a second finger into her and was rewarded by a soft moan escaping her lips. Both his fingers were bigger then her boyfriend's little prick and he moved them in and out of her pretending to feel around for drugs. Her tight young pussy was clamping down on his fingers and he was panting at the thought of getting his cock in her. She whimpered a little when he pulled out and he stood back up and pushed his crotch against her ass. 

Joe wanted to know what his partner was doing and turned the patrol car's spotlight on them. The girls head was down and her hands were tightly holding onto the truck. Joe was in awe at the sight of her big breasts and that firm young ass arched upward as Jackson pressed his crotch into her like he was fucking her. For some reason he found himself becoming aroused at the sight of the big black cop in uniform pushing his crotch against such a well built naked white girl. 

"Do you feel how big that black cock is?" 

The girl nodded and Jackson grinned to himself. He noticed that Stevenson had blinked the search light at him to get his attention, before turning it off completely. Disgusted, he let the girl get in the back of the truck with her boyfriend and did a quick search of the front of the pick up. He chuckled with glee when his search turned up a roach clip with a half smoked joint and an open bottle of cheap wine. He grabbed the boy and hauled him back to the police car. 

"What the hell do you think you were doing back there," Joe asked? 

"Just checking her for drugs partner," responded Jackson as he pushed the boy in the back seat. 

Joe was getting ready to call the station when Jackson stopped him with a wink. 

"Lets see some I.D. boy." 

The teenager handed over his drivers license and Jackson read the name Ryan Anderson on it. 

"Ryan, I have you on possession, underage consumption, open container, indecent exposure and a lot of other charges that can have you spending some time in prison," said the big black cop. 

He watched the scared boy's little penis shrink back into his scrotum from his fear. 

"Is any of the booze or drugs your girlfriends," Jackson asked? 

"N.no Sir," 

"You know boy, I don't feel like doing all the paperwork to send you to jail tonight," said Jackson and he saw the boys eyes light up with hope. "So I'll tell you what. If you let me fuck that hot young girlfriend of yours, I'll let you go with a warning." 

"Jackson, what the f...," Joe said. 

"Shut up Joe," Jackson barked back at his partner. 

Jackson looked back at the wimpy little teenager. He looked crestfallen again. "Well," growled the big black man threateningly. 

"I..I can't do that sir," stuttered the boy. 

"Well why the fuck not" 

"Cause I love her, sir" 

Jackson laughed at that and opened the car door. "Well we'll just have to see if she loves you enough to keep you out of prison. She is over eighteen right?" 

Jackson left the car when the boy nodded yes. Joe ran out of the car to catch his partner. 

"Jackson you can't do this, It's wrong." 

"Joe," he replied. "I'm going to get me some pussy tonight and unless you want to take me home to your wife, I'm gonna fuck this girl." Jackson watched his partner step back in shock. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna make her do anything she don't consent to and you can even get a crack at her if you want, though she won't even notice your fucking her after I get done with her." 

Jackson left his partner standing there with his mouth open and headed for the kids pick-up. 

Stevenson cursed to himself and got back in the squad car. He looked back at the dejected looking teenager in the back seat. He was still naked from the waist down and wore a black tee shirt with some crazy band he had never heard of printed on it. He had a pierced nose and a tattoo on one arm. Just the kind of punk kid I hate, thought officer Joe Stevenson. How'd this loser ever score a babe with a body like that? Still, he was kind of noble in a way, sticking up for his girlfriend like that. 

Jackson peeked into the back of the truck and saw the girl, still naked, sitting with her arms around her knees and rocking back and forth as she sobbed. 

"What's your name girl"

"J.Jenny" 

"Well Jenny, it's like this. I found drugs and alcohol in the truck and your boyfriend back there says that they belong to you." he paused to let his words sink in. The girl looked horrified and started crying in fear for herself and at her lovers betrayal. "I'm going to have to arrest you and call your parents...." 

The mention of her parents had her begging him to let her go. Jackson saw her eyes light up when he said he'd let her off with a warning and then her look of disbelief when he told what she'd have to do for it. Jenny just nodded her head reluctantly and he climbed into the back with her. Jackson stepped over the air mattress in the back and removed his shirt as he leaned back against the cab. 

"Come take my pants off, bitch and I'll show you what a real man's cock looks like." 

Jenny was confused. She didn't want to cheat on her boyfriend, but being naked before this good looking black giant had her turned on. He was so strong and dominant and she found herself wanting to obey him. She had wanted to see his dick ever since she had felt it through his uniform when he frisked her. It had felt so much larger then her boyfriends and so powerful. 

Jenny crawled over to the cop and looked up his muscular chest at the black face grinning down at her lustfully, his white teeth shining in the moonlight. She reached out a trembling hand and unbuckled his belt. She saw his large cock shifting under his trousers and licked her lips in fear and anticipation. Jenny unbuttoned his trousers and slowly pulled the zipper down. The weight of the equipment on his belt caused his pants to fall to the floor of the truck leaving him clad only in a pair of white briefs. The bulge in his underwear was simply unbelievable. It was completely beyond the teenage girls comprehension, that a penis could be that big. Ryan's dick was the only one she had ever seen and he had told her how lucky she was for it was considered well above average at five inches. She couldn't wait any longer and grabbing the waist band of his briefs, she pulled them down. 

She gasped in fear at the black monster that revealed itself to her. It had been coiled up like a snake and when she freed it from it's prison the big head had leaped at her like it was getting ready to strike. The giant cock hung down half hard before her pointing right at her lips. The fat head was throbbing with desire for her and she flushed with pride at the thought of causing him to react this way. It was so beautiful, so big, and hard, she thought as it continued to grow before her eyes.. The cop's black cock was at least twice as big as Ryan's and three times as thick. The tip was lighter in color then the rest and was about half the size of her fist. 

She tentatively reached out to touch it and felt it leap beneath her fingers. Jenny put her hand under his black cock amazed at it's weight . 

"You have the right to suck on my cock," said Jackson reaching out for her. 

She felt his hands roughly grab her hair and pull her head forward. Without hesitating she parted her lips to welcome his cock inside her mouth. She let her instincts take over and soon became an animal slurping on his cock lovingly, kissing the sides, and trying to deep throat him as much as possible. She could kiss Ryan's pubic hairs with his little penis buried completely in her mouth, but she couldn't even take half this cop's big cock. He seemed to be enjoying it though, as he was making little thrusting motions with his hips and grunting from time to time. 

Jackson was impressed by the girl's cock sucking ability. Her enthusiasm readily made up for her lack of experience. He looked down at the beautiful teenager. Her eyes were closed in concentration as her lips rose rapidly up and down his black shaft. He could see her hand rapidly moving between her legs as she desperately frigged herself. 

Joe Stevenson could make out his partners large torso leaning against the truck's cabin with the girls blonde head moving between his legs. He felt his penis move in his pants as he pictured the girl's hot young body and imagined her sucking on Jackson's long black cock. Then for some reason he pictured his wife naked before his partner and sucking on the ten inch monster, he had seen half erect in the showers at the station. He was disgusted at himself for thinking that but was surprised to see that his penis was now completely erect at the thought of his wife being with Jackson. Ryan was crying and moaning in the back seat at his girlfriends betrayal, but he also seemed to be straining his eyes to see more. Stevenson glanced down and was surprised to see the teenagers little dick was hard also. 

Jackson had yet to meet the white bitch who could resist submitting to him completely after seeing his cock. He remembered Jenny's type from high school twenty years ago. There was no doubt in his mind that she'd break up with her boyfriend and start looking around for big black cocks to fuck. She'd end up giving her pussy to some black punk on the football team and would probably wind up pregnant by the time she was twenty. Jackson knew, because he had been that punk football player twenty years ago. He felt his balls start to ache and the semen flew up through his cock and blew out the head. 

"You have the right to swallow my black seed," he gasped as he came. 

Jenny felt the head of the cop's giant cock swell up even bigger and she tried to stop before he came as she wanted to feel him in her pussy, but she was too late. His hot semen sprayed the back of her throat and quickly filled her mouth. She enjoyed swallowing Ryan's cum but, never seemed to get enough as he only came several drops. The black cock on the other hand was cumming in gushers and quickly filled her belly and spilled out the sides of her mouth. She released his cock and it continued to squirt his jism on her nude body. She collapsed on the air mattress gasping for breath. When she looked up, she was delighted to see that his cock was still fully erect. 

Jenny laid back on the air mattress and spread her legs invitingly. The cop looked like some kind of black god standing before her, with the moonlight shining on his muscles and cock as he stepped out of his pants and removed is shoes. Everything about him was big, powerful, and dominant. Ryan had always left her wanting more and she knew that this black giant would teach her all about having sex with a real man.

"I have the right to get fucked by a 10" black cock," she said causing the cop to laugh.

The cop kneeled down between her spread legs and nestled his cock head on her wet vaginal lips. He slowly pushed the fat head in and Jenny moaned in pleasure. He had one of her knees in each arm and was rotating his hips as he worked a little more of his penis into her with each thrust . He was as deep as Ryan's little prick ever got, but the width was a new experience that felt incredible, and he was only halfway in.

"So goddammed tight," Jackson groaned and pushed in about seven inches.

The pleasure was fading and being replaced by an intense pain as her pussy got stretched out by his cock. She found herself struggling to get away from him, begging him to let her go and sighed in relief when he pulled most of his cock out of her leaving only the head in. Then she screamed as his cock slammed into her to the hilt, his balls slapping her ass. It felt like she was losing her virginity all over again and she realized that in a way she was getting fucked for the first time as she graduated from little white boys to big black men.

Thankfully, he had stopped with his cock buried in her to let her get used to his size. The pain was being replaced by a sense of fullness. It didn't feel good, but then it didn't hurt her any more either and Jenny felt her pussy acting weird. Her juices were pouring all around his cock lubricating it completely and her vaginal muscles were spasming around his dick, trying to rub against the black invader alternately trying to push it out and pull it in. She started writhing around his massive cock wanting him to move it.

"Pleease fuuck mee," she stuttered out then moaned as he started to move.

Jackson slowly began pulling out his cock so that only the head was left in, then he rammed it back in. He began fucking her with its entire length like that and soon she was raising her hips to meet his thrusts, grunting every time he buried it in her.

Jenny had never in her life imagined sex could be this good. Her body was tingling and she was throwing her head from side to side as the pressure built up within her. She felt the cop drop her legs and then he laid down on top of her. She wrapped her legs around his back and leaned up to kiss him. She was overcome by emotions as she was engulfed by his body. She felt safe, protected within his arms, and also she felt owned, and she liked the feeling of being subservient to a dominant male.




The Policeman: An Urban Legend



She was passionately kissing her new master, when she felt her pussy blow up like a balloon around his cock as it sprayed her juices out of her vagina soaking his balls and the air mattress. Their lips were still locked and Jenny saw him staring at her intently when her eyes opened with shock as the waves of pleasure from her first orgasm reached her brain, overwhelming her senses. 

Jackson saw the look of surprise on the white girls face when she came. She quit kissing him and screamed as her eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed on the mattress. Jackson wasn't anywhere close to finishing and just kept pounding her hard as she fainted. She had been out for about fifteen minutes when he noticed her start writhing beneath him moaning softly.

Jenny had been dreaming of the black football players at Ryan's school when she awoke to the cops relentless fucking. He was losing is rhythm and his cock seemed to swell up even bigger. A series of orgasms erupted from her like firecrackers going off as his semen sprayed the insides of her pussy. The orgasms just kept growing in strength as his hot cum filled her pussy and she fainted again.

Jackson pulled his still squirting cock to of her pussy and covered her belly in his semen. He had given her a good cum bath tonight, her face and breasts were covered in dried sperm from the blow job and now her crotch and stomach were soaked with his black seed.

Joe had been mesmerized as the pickup truck just kept rocking up and down for the last half hour. He could here the sounds of their fucking echo across the parking lot and through the swamp. Joe pictured in his mind Jackson's body crushing the girl beneath him as he jack hammered the gigantic prick into her. He hadn't gotten a good look at the girls face and he found himself picturing his wife's face on the girls body. What the hell was wrong with him, he asked himself? Joe decided that tonight he would fantasize, but from now on he wouldn't let his partner come anywhere near his wife. Ryan had cried himself to sleep in the back and Joe noticed his stiff little prick twitching as he dreamed about who knows what. Joe was about to take his own stiff dick out of his pants to relieve some of the pressure, when he noticed Jackson staggering toward him in the moonlight. Jackson was still naked, his long penis hanging down halfway to his knees. His body was covered in sweat and he glistened in the moonlight.

"All done," Joe asked?

"Two holes down, one to go," he replied reaching into the car to grab his cigarettes off the dash. "I just need a few minutes to recharge, then you can get a crack at her when I'm done fucking her ass."

He watched his partner finish the cigarette and then head back to the pick up truck. He briefly pictured his wife's ass stuffed with black cock and angrily suppressed the image.

Jackson kept tugging on his cock to get it hard again as he walked back to the unsuspecting girl. He hadn't had a work out like this in about three weeks and he felt invigorated in the night air. He climbed back into the truck and rolled Jenny over onto her stomach, pulling her hips up. He kneeled behind her and pushed his cock back into her pussy to lubricate it again and he heard her moan in her sleep as he wiggled it around. Jackson removed his cock and held the head against her tiny rosebud.

It resisted opening for him at first, but he pushed harder and it yielded to his power. Jenny's eyes flew open and she screamed as he pushed it in about halfway.

"Stop," she cried. "Take it out, please it hurts."

"You have the right to have my cock shoved in your ass," he said

The pain in her pussy was nothing compared to the pain in her ass and she was biting her knuckles as tears rolled down her face.

"Please, take it out," she begged around her clenched fist.

"If you choose to waive that right, I'm going to fuck your ass anyway." he said as he pushed all 10" inside her.

She had never felt a pain this intense and he wasn't letting her get used to him this time. After about ten minutes the pain subsided some, and she had time to think. She remembered worshipping his cock with her mouth and felt a strange sense of pride at being able to take his entire length up her ass. The pain faded a little more and she remembered the feeling of her orgasms as he fucked her pussy. She moaned with pleasure at the memory, Letting him fuck her ass was a small price to pay in exchange for all the orgasms he had given her. There was only a little pain as she thought about Ryan's worthless little dick. She wanted to experience more of what this black cop had to offer and the only way she could be sure he'd keep fucking her was to give him whatever he wanted. She moaned in pleasure and began pushing her ass backwards to match his thrusts.

"Oh god, fuck my ass," she cried. "Don't ever stop fucking me." 

Jackson grinned, pushed her head back down into the mat and he began fucking her harder. 

"I love your black cock," she screamed loudly.

...black cock" echoed across the lake and Joe couldn't stand it anymore. He had been ready to go rescue the girl when she screamed but, now she appeared to be loving it. He just had to see this. He grabbed his flashlight and approached the truck.

Joe peered in on the couple. Jackson was holding her head down so that her ass was thrust into the air as he pistoned his cock in and out of her. He turned on his light and shined it on her ass. Joe saw his partner turn and smile at him when he noticed the light come on. Joe ignored Jackson and just stared at that monster black dick burying itself in the blondes perfect ass. Without thinking he dropped his pants and began stroking his own averaged sized penis. He had almost stopped Jackson from taking advantage of this girl and was glad he hadn't as this was the most erotic sight he'd ever seen. He hadn't gotten far jerking off, when he heard Jackson bellow and he saw semen squirt out of her ass as his partner came for a third time. Joe was in awe as Jackson slowly pulled his cock out of her ass hole. It just seemed to keep coming and coming until finally he pulled it out entirely. Joe saw another glob of sperm fly from the tip of his partner's cock and splatter on her ass. The girls knees had gone all wobbly and she collapsed on her stomach, with Jackson falling on top of her. Jackson rested for a minute and then grabbed his clothes. 

"Your turn partner," said the black man

"I..I don't think so," replied Joe.

"Just do it, you know you want to," said Jackson as he pointed at Joe's erect penis. "Besides she won't even remember anything about your dick."

Joe watched his partner returning to the squad car laughing as he held his uniform to his chest. Joe looked over at the girl and shined his light on her ass again. His cock jerked as he looked at her. Her ass hole was red rimmed and gaping wide open. Jackson's semen was trickling out of her ass and her pussy. Joe thought of how big and firm her breasts had looked as Jackson frisked her nude body outside the truck. He gave in to temptation and stepped out of his pants. 

Joe tentatively reached out a finger and slowly ran it down the crack of her ass. When he reached her rectum he slowly pushed his finger inside to the knuckle feeling how full of Jackson's sperm it was. He pulled his finger out and ran it down to her pussy. He buried first one then two fingers inside her vagina feeling how hot and wet she was. She stirred a little as he fingered her. He had never cheated on his wife and growing impatient for his first fresh pussy in twenty years he kneeled behind her and rolled her over to her back. He positioned his cock at her pussy and ran his light up her body noticing how covered it was in dried semen. When he shined his light in her face she was looking at him in horror.

"Oh my god," he cried. "Jenny."

"D.Daddy" she stammered.

* * * * *

Author's Note: This urban legend has been around for many years. I've never heard it as an interracial story, but the basic plot is always the same. Cop's partner sleeps with girl and cop discovers it's his daughter. Variations are known to exist, one of which is the man who orders a prostitute, only to find out it's his daughter. 



The Policeman's Ball



Note to Readers: It's best to imagine this one in 40's cinema style. Yes, complete with clicking camera and over acting. Popcorn and crackling candy wrappers optional.

* * * * *  

Quiet mumbles and flashing lights illuminated the grisly scene. Behind yellow Police tape, a man had been brutally executed. A popular baseball bat was shoved deeply into his anal cavity, lubricated with a heavy brown grease. Below the grotesque statue, a large pool of white liquid congealed below his limp, dangling oversized penis. 

Upon closer inspection, we find a large red kiss mark on the man's right buttock. As we move towards the pool of blood under his head, we see the same lip marks on the man's terror stricken, bloodless face. 

"That's bearing grease, Steve." Sergeant O'Reily brought a sample on an inspection cloth. "I'd know that smell anywhere." 

A quick whiff confirmed the Sergeant's findings. "Thank's Quinlan."

"What shade would you call that lipstick, by the way?" O'Reily and Harding were pals, and spoke to each other easily, even though Steve outranked him. 

"I'd call it Cotton Candy Red." It sounded as if he was talking out of the side of his mouth, but it was just crooked. "Notify me about the slug, I'll add it to my lead sheet."

"I didn't know you was into slugs, huh, huh," the big Sergeant chuckled to himself.

"Why, I oughta...," the much smaller detective raised his hand menacingly. He chased Quinlan off with a growl. 

Detective Steve Harding traversed the small room looking for clues. He stood by the open window and looked outside to see how far up it was. Not too high, but a bitch to climb up none-the- less. Somebody he knew then. The fingerprints on the bat will help. 

The simply furnished apartment didn't look lived in. A one night stand perhaps? No, a woman that he knew, who could get him to do...that. Not much here...'cept a matchbook, yoink. "The Dirty Thirty." Hmm, sounds interesting. Steve put it in an evidence bag, and left the scene with a thousand things to do. First thing, talk to this guys wife. The ring finger of his left hand displayed a very expensive looking gold band.

"Hello?" A very attractive brunette answered the large, ornate wooden door. Her hair was cut short and clung tightly to her head in flowing waves. She looked about forty, and the darkest brown eyes dazzled expectantly. 

"Detective Harding ma'am, I spoke to you on the phone about your husband," the lone detective was stunned by her beauty, but stuck to business.

Mrs. Hargrove's face paled. She swallowed and looked away slightly, "Yes, of course. Won't you come in?" She tried sounding polite, but it was difficult. "May I offer you a drink, a twelve year old Scotch perhaps? My husband liked to keep a fully stocked bar." As she walked toward the bar, she stopped and touched it tenderly. 

Pleasant memories? "No thank you Mrs. Hargrove, let's just get to business. Did your husband have any enemies or business rivals?" He took out his notepad and a pencil, and sat on an ottoman in front of an over stuffed sofa. 

Mrs. Hargrove noticed how his neatly pressed grey suit fitted his muscular body perfectly as he sat down. She sat across from him on the sofa and crossed her legs. 

"No, Detective. My husband was a good man and ran a clean business. He was respected and loved through out the city." She turned away melodramatically, "I... loved him very much as well." She was on the verge of tears, but was determined to show no weakness to the policeman.

Right, show me a clean businessman, and I'll show you a clean lawyer, "I understand that ma'am, I'm trying to find a motive. You wouldn't have one would you?" He knew her reaction before he got it, but it was important to clear up that point right away.

Francis Hargrove glared at him icily, chilling him to the bone. "No. Of course not. We were very much in love, and I'll miss him dearly." 

Steve had to admit, she did sound genuine. "Was he cheating on you, that you know of?" He expected claws and hissing but was surprised at her answer.

"Yes, he was. My husband was...a very potent man, and I could not keep up with his libido. So, several years ago we... tacitly agreed, that he could see other women, if he never left me. We were happy with that arrangement until..." 

"Until somebody kissed his ass goodbye, you mean?" He knew he was being cruel, but you had to push the suspects buttons to get the answers you wanted.

Francis broke down traumatically, "We've been happily married for years, he was my soulmate!" Sparkling tears streaked down her smooth cheeks and landed on her heaving bosom. Her lips quivered with soul bending misery. "And you needn't worry about the money, most of it was mine to begin with anyway!" Her hurt face turned into a snarl, as her pain lashed out from the dark, empty pit in her stomach.

"Do you know the name of the girl?"

"Hm," she grunted brusquely, "which one? There were many." Her reply was pregnant with many unresolved feelings.

"The one he might have been most serious about, perhaps." He softened a bit, and gave her a pleasant tone, "Any names would be very helpful in solving this heinous crime, ma'am."

"There is something you must know about my husband first, Mr. Harding." She paused to light a cigarette. "Did you... see the body?" She blew a smoke ring.

"Yes ma'am."

"Did you notice anything, out of the ordinary?"

"Besides the bat and the hole in his head?"

She gave him a black hole stare, "Yes, besides those things."

"He did have an enormous..."

"Exactly. I loved my husband very much, and when we made love it was... incredible. But lately, he wanted to put it, someplace unnatural." She shifted in her seat slightly, as she tried to force the image out of her mind.

"I'm not sure I follow, Mrs. Hargrove."

She leveled her eyes at him, and flicked her ashes in the ashtray. "He wanted to make love to me in the ass, Detective. Or anybody else for that matter, because I wouldn't. I almost wish I had, he might still be alive," she wiped a tear with a handkerchief. She anguished over the sad, ironic coincidence when the coroner told her about the baseball bat.

"That helps some ma'am. Can I have that name now, please?" His pencil poised over his tattered notepad.

"Cynthia Graves, his secretary," spat Francis. At one point she seriously thought that she could share her husband with another woman, and not feel hurt by it. She never expected to lose him over it, that much was certain.

"Thank you ma'am. I'll keep in touch." Detective Harding put his hat over his sleek black hair and walked toward the door. Francis followed him.

"Detective?" She waited breathlessly. "If it is her, make sure she gets what she deserves?" 

"I'll try ma'am. It's up to Lady Justice to deal out the punishment, not I." He didn't mind punishing himself once in a while, but not on women. 

Loud, quick clicking steps echoed down the long marble hallway. In the distance, Harding saw a lone secretary in front of a large wooden door. Sunlight streamed in through tall windows, creating a heavenly glow around her. His steady gait mingled harmoniously with her rhythmic typing, as Detective Harding approached one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. 

Her long, straight, platinum blond hair was pulled tightly into a bun, high on the back of her well balanced head. Short reading glasses perched on the end of her delicate nose. A tight blue dress hugged dangerously to every curve. She looked up brightly to greet the visitor.

"Good Afternoon! Welcome to Bear and Hargrove, how may I help you today, sir?" Her blue eyes sparkled like diamonds, and the sun shone with her smile.

"Miss Graves? I'm Detective Steven Harding of the Police Department, ma'am. I need to ask you a few questions, I'll just be a minute." He sat down and took out his pad. He loved to do that, it got them all defensive and pouty if they were guilty.

She winked, "Why certainly Mr. Harding, I've been expecting you." She took off her glasses, and gave him her full attention. She laced her slender fingers together, and smiled valiantly.

"Miss Graves, I understand you and the deceased were having an affair." Best to jump right on it, he thought. It might rattle her cage a little.

She blinked once, and gave him a brief glassy stare, then said quietly, "We went out on a few occasions, for business reasons. We never did anything... unprofessional, Detective Harding," Cynthia pursed her crimson lips together, and waited for the next question.

"Yes of course, just following leads ma'am. Where did you work before you came here?"

"I was a fashion model for many years. You may have seen me in ladies undergarment catalogs?" An eyebrow arched conspiratorially.

"I thought you looked familiar. Why the change in careers?"

"Mr. Hargrove offered me... much more for my services." Cynthia looked away briefly.

She's covering something up. "I'm sorry to bother you about this Miss Graves, but could you mimeograph this for me. It's a very important clue, and I need a copy of it for myself before I turn it in as evidence." He fumbled around in his pockets, and pulled out a crumpled up laundry list. 

Cynthia looked annoyed, but thought it wise to cooperate fully. She smiled and said, "Of course, Detective. I'll just be a minute." She took the useless paper, and stood up to leave.

Wow. Steve watched her walk away, his eyes followed the pendulous swing of her wide hips. Long sturdy legs made her perfect ass dance rhythmically up and down, as long spiked heels clicked away to distant white noise. He shook his head to clear the fog, and made himself stand up. 

He went to her desk and started opening drawers. Bingo. Lipstick...red, yoink. And...ah ha, a matchbook, 'The Dirty Thirty' . Perfect. He heard her come back, and sat down quickly.

"Here you are Detective. I trust that is all you need?" Cynthia settled in her chair, and resumed her posture as before.

"That's all for now, Miss Graves. Thank you very much for your time, I'll keep in touch." Steve stood, nodded politely and gave her his lopsided smile. He left her his card in case she had any questions, and left.

"Prints match, Steve." The lab technician just finished comparing fingerprints, and called Detective Harding to tell him the news. "Another thing, the deceased prints are also on the matchbook you gave me."

"That's swell. Thanks Dave." Steve hung up the phone, and picked up his coat and hat on the way out. 

"Miss Graves, you are charged with the murder of Robert Hargrove. You have the right to remain silent..."

Cynthia Graves pale skin went a shade whiter, and nodded shallowly. She picked up her belongings, and allowed Detective Harding to take her arm, and drive her downtown. 

Steve tried not looking back, but it was extremely difficult. She was quite captivating. Cynthia's huge breasts swayed slightly with every bump and turn. Her flawless white face hid behind a light blue veil attached to her fashionable hat. Full red lips mumbled slightly, as her bright blue eyes followed the street activity. Long eyelashes batted back at him. 

What's she trying to pull? Steve asked himself. 

He pulled to a stop and escorted her to the interrogation room. Cynthia was left alone under a bright light, while Harding went to get other officers to assist in the questioning.

Cynthia sat quietly on the stool, legs crossed and looking at her fingernails. She heard footsteps as several men walked into the room talking and smoking. This was the first any of them, besides Harding, had seen her and they all immediately quieted down when they saw her. She smiled politely, but didn't get up.

"Miss Graves, may I call you Cynthia?" A slight nod and a tiny "yes" allowed the new face to continue. "My name is Detective Grant ma'am, I will be conducting this proceeding." 

Detective Grant was a large stony faced black man with a deep, gravelly voice. He worked hard to get where he was, and would beat anyone's ass who tried to take it away from him. He took his job very seriously.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm sure." She tried to shine, but her lucky stars grew dim.

"Cynthia, where were you on the night of March 3rd?"

"In my apartment, reading. I had Chinese food delivered at seven o'clock, and went to bed at ten o'clock, after my radio program was finished." She looked satisfied with her answer.

"That's not true, Cynthia. Your landlady said she saw you enter the building a little after nine."

"Oh, yes. I forgot some dry cleaning. I had to pick it up." Oh my god, how could I be cracking up this easily, Cynthia thought. Calm down, be cool. Smile, show a little leg...you'll have them eating out of your hands as usual.

The men in the room gawked as Cynthia hiked her dress up slightly as she re-crossed her legs. Detective Grant was having none of it, he knew her game.

"Miss Graves. Please refrain from your present course of action, these men are trained police officers, not trained seals." He took out several evidence bags and leveled a smouldering glare at her, "The fingerprints on this lipstick case match the ones on the baseball bat, and the color is the same as what's on the body. Cynthia, it's time you came clean."

Cynthia slumped forward slightly, exhausted. She shook slightly, and heaved a deep sigh, resting her head in the palms of her hands. 

"I thought he loved me," she started off slowly. "Everyday he told me he was going to leave his wife. Deep down I knew he wouldn't, but I always had hope. 

"A few weeks into our... relationship, I became suspicious that he was cheating on me." Her gaze sharpened to a point on the table, and her lips tightened when she almost whispered, "I could handle sharing him with his wife, but no one else."

"Why the bat Cynthia?" His tone shifted to a soothing chant. 

"I was hired for my expertise," her eyebrows raised, trying to stretch her point. "He offered me more money than I ever earned as a model, on one condition."

"What condition was that, Cynthia?"

She stopped before she went forward, this was getting difficult. "On the condition that I...let him make love to my ass. I had done it before, and I thought it was an fair enough deal. But I agreed before I saw...it." 

"Go on," Grant's voice rumbled softly.

"His cock was so huge, it scared me senseless. But he really was a gentle lover, and he took his time. It took a while, but I came to...love it." She sniffled up tears into her laced handkerchief.

"The bat, please?"

"Yes, yes the bat, just a minute," she sounded annoyed as she blew her nose lightly. "When I found out he not only had one more mistress besides me, but three others, I was furious. The time he took with me and the things he gave me, made me think he loved me. 

"I went looking for him, and on the way I stumbled across a sporting goods store. I saw the bat in the window. I pressed my face to the cold glass, and marveled at it's size. It reminded me of Robert so much, I bought it thinking I was just going to scare him with it."

"Yes?" Grant crossed his arms.

"It was easy enough to get him to meet me in a lonely apartment, we did it all the time. I told him I wanted to do something different, he agreed. Then I showed him the bat, and he started to back pedal. 

"I laughed at him, and said something to the effect of, 'Oh, you can dish it out but you can't take it. If you ever want my ass again, you'll let me have your ass.' 

"He understood grudgingly and got undressed, as I greased the bat up. I could tell it hurt him, but I didn't really care. He hurt me in more ways than one, that pig!" She spat on the table, clearly still furious at her dead lover.

FLASH! We see Cynthia holding the bat in both hands like a cock. She kisses the top with sparkling red lips and says sweetly, "C'mon Bobby, don't you want to feel how good you make me feel?"

"Cynthia, what about the gun?" Grant leaned forward, resting his big arms on the table in front of him. 

"The gun was his, he always carried it in the breast pocket of his coat. When he turned around and bent down, I took it out and placed it near me when he wasn't looking, just in case it got ugly. I wasn't planning on killing him, I just wanted to protect myself in case he got violent," she sounded very shaky, like the truth was fighting to get out. 

"Robert was really getting into it, I was...shocked. As he reached his climax he started calling out 'Francis, oh god Francis!'

"I was the one fucking him not his wife!" Cynthia pounded the table with an angry fist. "I saw red. I started really giving it to him hard, twisting and plunging it in and out with cold, furious vengeance. Then I remembered the gun."

"Yes?" Grant said calmly. Every officer in the small room squirmed nervously in their chairs as she related her gruesome tale. Sympathetic pain? Or wondering uneasily if they themselves wouldn't do anything this goddess asked of them.

"He loved it... until I shot him." Tears rolled down her cheeks as she showed true remorse over the horrible thing she had done.

A muscular, older man with grey hair stepped forward from the shadows, "Miss Graves, do you understand you are looking at life in prison for what you did? It's curtains for you. A pretty girl like you won't last a day in the slammer." Captain Hertzke was terrorizing her on purpose, he had other plans for her.

The blood left her face and her lip trembled, "I understand that, I didn't want to kill him, I just... I just," Cynthia cried uncontrollably until the Captain spoke again.

"Miss Graves, please calm down," Captain Hertzke looked back at the others in the room, and winked. "I'm prepared to offer you a deal, Cynthia." She quieted down to listen. 

"It seems that Mr. Hargrove posed a threat to several... operations for us. You actually did us a favor." 

She brightened visibly. "You mean, I can... go?" Cynthia whimpered.

There was a brief hush, before a roar of laughter erupted from the officers in the room. "Miss Graves, Miss Graves, I believe you misunderstood me. You still owe a debt to society," he looked at Detective Harding, and nodded towards her. Steve walked up to her, and handed her a piece of paper.

"What's this? 'You are cordially invited to The Policeman's Ball, tomorrow at 9:00 p.m.' What does this mean?" She put the gold embossed invitation on the table in front of her. 

Captain Hertzke rested his hands on the table and almost boomed, "It means, Miss Graves, that we are giving you an escape route, if you attend 'The Ball'. It will be hard work, but you will be free. 

"Of course we will keep an eye on you, and you're not allowed to leave the city for a while, but you can go about your everyday business. Let us know what you decide." He turned to leave the room, all the rest stood to follow him out.

"What do I need to do?" Cynthia asked slightly worried.

"All you have to do is show up, instructions will be given to you there. Be early." They all left, leaving Cynthia feeling greatly relieved, but even more worried.

Cynthia was dressed to the nines by 9:00. Black spiked heels pushed her legs up into shapely wonders. Silk panty hose, and a tight midnight black dress followed every exaggerated curve of her voluptuous body. 

The dress was backless, and cut low in front. She wore a pearl necklace and matching earrings, and a simple black hat with veil. Long white gloves came to her elbows. She sat in her car for hours before she went in. She noticed only men entering, then it hit her like a .38 slug. She was very glad she dressed like this. 

"I'm going to get away with murder, and all I have to do is fuck a room full of men?" Cynthia spoke aloud in disbelief. Her beautiful red lips pulled back into an ironic smile.




The Policeman's Ball



During her modeling days, she had been on so many casting couches, and under every desk to get where she wanted to be. She used the weakness of men to her advantage, to become one of the highest paid models in the business. Now, it seemed only natural to her that men would trade her life for her pleasures. 

This blond bombshell slept her way to the top of the modeling world, one designer at a time, ruthlessly. But for the amount of work she was doing, Cynthia still felt like she wasn't getting paid enough. She left all men behind her weak and breathless, and even gave one old geezer a heart attack. Cynthia felt bad at the time, but not for long, she had bigger fish to fry. 

Shortly after that, Robert Hargrove saw her on the runway, and charmed her into the back of his limousine. He offered her the best job ever. Company car, lots of money, flexible hours and a pleasant, good looking boss to take her to dinner every once and a while.

She grinned out of the corner of her mouth, "What's in it for you?" Like she didn't already know.

"Oh, from time to time there might be duties you may have to perform." He caressed her soft alabaster shoulder.

"What, like sucking your cock?" She was a lady, but only when she had to be.

He was a little shocked, but kept going. He laughed a little then said, "Yes, like sucking my cock. And other things." His caressing hand slid to her firm round buttocks.

Her left eyebrow raised as she looked him dead in the eye, "So, you'll give me all that, and I just have to fuck you once in a while? Sounds too easy."

"Not exactly once in a while. Once, maybe twice a day, and... I really want to fuck you in the ass." He had an ass fetish for as long as he could remember, and it was driving him crazy that he couldn't do it with his wife, or anyone else. He had to find someone, maybe if he bribed them with the perfect job...

Now it was her turn to be shocked. She had anal sex more times than she could count, and liked it very much, but could she handle it all the time? Then dollar signs, and beautiful dresses glittered like fountainous jewels before her eyes. Limousines, expensive restaurants...everything she deserved. She couldn't pass this opportunity up.

"O.K., deal." She held out her hand to seal the deal. He didn't take it.

"This calls for something a little more appropriate don't you think?" His strong, handsome face came closer to hers, his hand cradled her head slightly as they kissed. It wasn't a long passionate kiss, just a brief interlude to satisfy the bargain. 

She felt something tickle the back of her mind. He's not telling me something, she thought. "Is there something else I should know?" Her tone told him he'd better be straight with her.

"Yes, I'm afraid there is." He didn't look afraid however, as his smile broadened to show all his white teeth. "Maybe it's time you found out. Why don't you come down here...good. And unzip... that's right. Ahhh."

As Cynthia knelt in front of him in the back of the moving limousine, she reached into his tuxedo and found... Oh my god, she gasped to herself. She hauled out the longest, fattest cock she had ever seen. 

"I better get a penthouse apartment for this, understand?" She looked deadly serious as she held the monster up to her face. She loved big cocks, but not this big. Cynthia began to worry, but didn't let it show. She decided to practice a while with her ass before she let him do it.

"Yes, yes, of course. But you will let me fuck your ass, right?" He sounded worried. So many deals like this fell though at the sight of his cock.

"Not tonight, next Monday. After I start my new job." She had to admit, she was getting turned on holding him. She kissed the head as the streetlights outside illuminated the cab of the limo. 

He could see everything. Her gorgeous face looking up at him, with his cock being sucked slowly into her painted mouth. He was looking forward to her employment. 

Cynthia licked along the length and tongued his balls before she took a long, fluttering lick back up the underside of his long shaft. She smiled at him, and laughed at him huskily. Her red lips parted wide, as she flattened her tongue, and beat his cock against it with a wet clicking sound. Then she pursed her lips together to dribble spit on the head. With both hands she slicked his cock up with her spit, and really started sucking.

All Robert could do was watch through half shut eyes as she started devouring his cock. Cynthia's head bobbed up and down on half of his cock. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get anymore in. So she made what she could get in feel so special, and stroked the rest with her strong, practiced hands rhythmically. It didn't take long at this steady sucking pace to get Robert's balls rumbling.

She felt his jism work its way past her stroking fingers, and removed her mouth. She closed her eyes, and laid her tongue underneath his soon to be erupting cock. A moment elapsed before she felt a hot rope of cum streak across her face, and land in her perfectly quaffed hair. Several more blasts followed before he stopped, filling her mouth completely and creating a warm blanket all over her face. She swallowed her mouthful and probed his hole for leftovers.

Her crystal blue eyes twinkled as globs of white goo clung to her long fluttering black eyelashes. Cynthia kissed the head before settling back to wipe her face with the handkerchief Robert handed her.

Robert couldn't help but smile at the gorgeous girl who's face he'd just painted with his seed. I could do that all day long, he thought. He watched her lick her fingers clean after putting his handkerchief in the garbage bag, then helped her to her seat.

"That was wonderful, Cindy. Where can we take you?" He rolled the middle window down to talk to his driver, Herb.

"It's Cynthia actually, and I live across town... after dinner."

As Cynthia approached the appointed building, her heart raced, and butterflies settled in the pit of her stomach. 

It seemed so easy earlier, can I really go through with this? Then she remembered Robert, Poor Robert, she almost cried. If she had the balls to kill a man, she concluded, she could certainly fuck the brains out of a bunch of cops. She turned the brass door knob with apprehension.

Cynthia summoned her catwalk cool at the last minute, and was rewarded with an hushed awe. All talking ceased as Cynthia opened the door. Nearly fifty men were wearing suits, and drinking. Some of the tuxedoed men were smoking funny smelling cigarettes. 

This is what she loved about modeling, all eyes were on her. It all came back. She stood radiantly in the doorway, searching for the Captain. She saw him and walked her runway toward him. Long strides, head held high, arms hugging her hips in front, she turned all heads.

He pretended not to notice, and pulled it off masterfully. Captain Hertzke was talking to Detective Grant about horse racing, and was turned slightly away from her when she approached. Cynthia had to tap him on the shoulder to get his attention.

"Ah, Miss Graves. So happy to see you." He reached into his pocket, and dug out a folded piece of paper. "Here are your instructions. Take your time in getting ready, and make sure you read it thoroughly. Fred, please escort her to the changing room."

"Yes Captain. Come with me miss?" Fred Grant hooked arms with Cynthia, and led her to a bathroom.

"Thank you." Cynthia said quietly as Grant closed the door behind him to rejoin the party. Let's look at these instructions, shall we, Cynthia said to herself. My my, what have we here? 

Instructions for the Ballee: All articles of clothing, except shoes, will be removed.

The Ballee will perform all sexual tasks with a smile and 

"can-do" attitude.

The Ballee will not object to being called names, such as 

"bitch, slut", etc.

All Ballers will leave satisfied.

Hmm, sounds pretty straight forward. Just what I would expect from a bunch of pigs. Cynthia got undressed and checked herself in the mirror.

Outside the door, Captain Hertzke had the men in formation. His back was toward the bathroom door and was giving them a pep-talk.

"Gentlemen, we have ourselves a bona-fide murderer in our midst. Now through a stroke of luck, Miss Cynthia Graves killed a man that was marked for disposal anyway. Blame has been shifted to someone... more suitable to the crime. 

"She is a cold-blooded killer boys, and should be treated as such. We all know what we are here to do, don't we? If you're not sure what you're doing here, leave. 

"No one? Good. Let's give her everything we got boys, and make society proud." He wanted to laugh at his crass comment, but the men cheered loudly at the close of his rousing oratory.

Cynthia opened the door to cheering. Wow, is that for me?! The widest smile broke from her face as she looked out over the small sea of faces. They're all naked now, and who is this man with the golden ass in front of me? Cynthia waited to see.

Captain Hertzke noticed the men's attention was no longer on him, but behind him. He turned around. Jesus Christ, what a knock out. Too bad she's German.

When he was a younger Jew he went to a University in Greece. Because of his prominent Mediteranean features, he was overlooked by Nazi conspirators. Word was filtering down through letters from family, and the college information network about the treatment of Jews in occupied Europe. 

Atrocities were whispered about in the halls, and young Stanley Hertzke was terrified, for himself and his family. If he survived this, he was going to do his part to get revenge.

And here it was, standing right in front of him. Blond hair, blue eyes, high cheekbones and tall. He tried to hate her, but she was so beautiful. He must try harder. What is she looking at? He followed her eyes.

Cynthia was staring at the Captain's cock. It looks as big as Robert's cock...oh my, she thought. Before she knew what she was doing, she knelt before him and kissed it tenderly. 

I thought I lost you. I'm sorry I left you for something so temporary as another woman, she looked up into the handsome, chiseled face of the older Captain. She felt his burning glare. She went back to kissing his cock.

"Fred! Please help Miss Graves to the rings," Stanley called loudly.

Cynthia wondered if she had done something wrong when she was stood up, and walked away. The naked crowd parted like the Red Sea as she was led to rings hanging from the ceiling in the center of the gym. The men followed like a wave, and circled around the beautiful woman. Fred Grant waited with her for the Captain to approach from the outside. All the men were handed a shot- glass, and allowed the Captain to enter the loose congregation. 

"Miss Graves," said the Captain loudly so everyone could hear, "why are you here?"

Is he serious? "I killed my boyfriend," Cynthia said quietly.

"Louder please, not everyone heard you."

"I killed my boyfriend," she spoke louder. He looked satisfied.

"The first honor goes to the man who made the arrest. Steve Harding." The Captain almost sounded like a guest announcer on a game show. Everyone clapped and whistled loudly as Harding entered the circle. 

"Steve, if you would stand here. Now reach up and grab the rings. Tony, lower the rings please! Miss Graves, you do know what you are here to do, don't you?" The Captain looked her in the eyes as he helped her to her knees in front of Harding.

"I'm here to pay my debt to society, aren't I?" She winked playfully, as she swam in the joy of impending freedom.

She's not taking this seriously enough. She will when I'm through with her. The Captain nodded and said politely, "Smart girl, now show Steve how good of a job you do, then when you're through," his arm waved expansively, "everyone else gets the same. Understood?"

Cynthia nodded gravely as she switched her now lustful gaze up to Steve. "Detective Steve Harding," she poured on the sparkling charm. "Are you a Private Dick as well?" She reached to gently grab his slab. It fit weightily in her hands, and was pulsing with hot blood. 

"Not any more," he looked around at the other men and laughed. He looked back down and was hard in seconds, as he watched this glamorous blond lightly stroke his cock. He had plenty of dames before, but none as drop dead gorgeous as her. Cynthia kissed the bloated head, then slid her saliva slick tongue over it. She fluttered and licked along the length and down to his balls.

Electric shocks raced from each contact of her soft, wet tongue on his throbbing cock. Steve watched her as she pressed her lips to the side, and slid up and down, humming like she were playing an harmonica. 

She found his hairy balls, and tipped her head back to suck on each one gently. Several men gave voice to their lust. "Yeah baby, suck those nuts!", and "Damn, what a slut," and other such expletives were heard frequently as she licked back up to the head like a salivating animal.

Robert loved my blow jobs, Cynthia remembered. He told me I gave the best. Did he say that to all the girls? A sudden hatred flared as she bit the head tightly, and growled. A rousing cheer broke as all the men looked forward to their turn with raging erections.

Captain Hertzke approached quickly, and whispered in her ear, "Miss Graves could you hurry it along please. The men are getting anxious." She nodded and turned toward the crowd. She arched her brow provocatively, and blew a kiss to the crowd before she became a pig of herself.

A few moments later, Cynthia was swallowing down the last few inches of Harding's cock. When she got there, she ground her face into his pubic bone to get every last inch. She growled on the full length of his cock, as she swirled her tongue all around the shaft. She learned long ago how to contract her throat muscles, and was giving his cock the squeeze.

When she was comfortable with her technique, her sucking increased ten fold. Copious amounts of white, bubbly saliva appeared in the pubic hair around her mouth, as she gargled her throat muscles around his dick. The results were instantaneous. 

Harding started fucking her gripping mouth up and down his spit slippery cock. Cynthia fucked back, and controlled his bucking hips with her slender white fingers. She threw her head to the base repeatedly as she continued her interior assault. 

Harding's cock expanded and shook wildly. Cynthia kept her mouth tight and opened her throat as she went down one last time. She didn't even taste the hot buttery goo as it shot down her throat like a slug of whiskey. She sucked, and sucked on the spent dick until she was certain she got it all, then withdrew her mouth with a slight pop. 

"Next!" Cynthia always wanted to say that.

Steve held onto the rings tightly as his knees gave out. Every man cheered, even the Captain and Grant, as they each looked forward to their turn at the killer. 

The rookie who was supposed to be next, shot off prematurely, and found out why they were given shot glasses. He was still in shock as Cynthia took his full glass from him.

She saluted the officer, and lowered her lips over the warm, sticky glass. With her teeth locking around the rim and her lips creating a seal, she kicked her head back with a loud wet gulp. He watched as her pink tongue swirled around in the tiny glass, licking it clean.

There was a deafening roar as all the men crowded still closer to be next. They all got their turn, almost. Not every man made it to Cynthia's mouth with a loaded pistol, but Cynthia took each shot with a smile, and swallowed its contents happily. She had never sucked so much cock before, or swallowed so much semen. She was starting to get full, and had to pee. 

After she finished off the last man, Cynthia's face was dripping with drool and excess cum. A tiny burp escaped her messy white lips. A pearly bubble formed, and popped before she asked politely, "Captain, may I go to the bathroom please?".

"Yes Miss Graves, but hurry. Round two is about to start." He gave her a cockeyed grin. He hadn't spent his load, or gotten a blow job. He wanted to give everything he had to her ass.

After her ablutions, Cynthia cleaned the mess that clung to her chin, and refreshed her make- up. She was so glad she swallowed everything, and not gotten it in her hair. 

The men had moved over to a pommel horse, and left a pathway for her to enter. She slinked towards the crowd in eager anticipation. The worst they could do is kill me, but they wouldn't do that I'm sure, she told herself. I'm sure I'll enjoy myself immensely. Her pussy started getting moist at the thought of the fucking she was going to get.

She stood in front of the pommel horse, and turned toward the men with a bright smile. "Thank's boys, I needed to make room," she patted her belly lightly as she spoke in a whorehouse drawl, like some Hollywood diva.

Captain Hertzke, clapped along with the men at her fine performance, and approached with Grant down the middle of the aisle. "Thank you Miss Graves. Lieutenant Grant, please apprehend the suspect," the Captain said loudly.

Cynthia suspected this was an act too, and when Grant walked up with handcuffs, she turned around quietly and leaned against the pommel horse seductively. She placed her hands on her head and spread her long, shapely legs out. Her full hips created a top-heavy balance to the black spiked heels that were pressing into the gym mat. 

Grant approached from the rear. All he had on was his belt with a baton swinging tightly on the side. I am gonna bust that white ass wide open, he consorted to an inner demon. He cuffed her hands and pulled out his baton to spread her legs wider. He put his club back and frisked her.

Cynthia's pussy melted when she felt is long hot cock slide across her smooth ass cheeks. She felt his strong hands grope her tits purposefully, as they moved down to her ass and legs.

"She's clean Chief." Grant said with authority. 

"Cuff her, Lieutenant." Hertzke said with a sneer. He watched Grant remove the cuffs from his belt, and with a few fluid movements, Cynthia was securely restrained.

Grant looked at Hertzke for instructions. A slight nod told him everything he needed to know. "On the ground, now!" Grant barked. Cynthia dropped immediately. "Ass up!" Grant took out the baton again, and prodded her legs apart to the proper width. "Head down," he placed the baton at her neck and pushed forward with gentle force.

Cynthia was a little uncomfortable. Her hands were behind her back, and she was laying on her more than ample breasts. Wait a second, that feels good...

Grant was holding a tub of dark orange grease. The Captain thought it would be proper justice if they used the same lubrication she used in the murder. They were all still wondering where she got it, and why not something else? 

He had coated the end of his police baton with the grease and was searching for her asshole playfully. He loved the way she shivered when he brushed against her pink rose bloom. Her hips pushed back against the solid invader. Grant decided it was time for her to pay up. 

Carefully but firmly, he pressed the flat tip against her backdoor. It slid in slightly, as her practiced muscles relaxed for it. Stronger force and a few twists later buried several more inches of baton securely in her ass. 

Cynthia backed her ass up against the solid black invader. It's so smooth and hard, ungh... not nearly the size I'm used to, but very ahhh... nice. Ooh, he's being really rough... 

"Yeah baby, club my ass into submission," Cynthia sang with a cockeyed smile. The crowd was driven to near frenzy, as Fred stepped up his vigorous but careful thrusts. 




The Policeman's Ball



"Lieutenant Grant, I believe the suspect is subdued." Hertzke put his meaty hand on his friend's shoulder. Watching Cynthia writhe under the pressure of the baton got Hertzke hot. He was going to have her first. "Step aside please, Fred." 

Cynthia looked up at the Captain with slight concern. He helped her up to her knees and guided her head to his long, hard cock. 

Over a month of constant attention to a similarly sized cock turned Cynthia's mouth into a highly skilled tool. With her hands still cuffed behind her back, Cynthia lowered her head and opened her painted lips to capture the circumcised head in her wet mouth. She spread her legs and sat back, as she craned her neck forward to swallow more of his fat cock.

In all his years, he has never had a more beautiful woman suck his cock with such vigor. Her head bobbed and wove like a speedster along it's veiny length, as she slurped up her escaping spit. She wasn't afraid of eye contact as she pierced his gaze with a consuming glare. Her red mouth stretched wider around the circumference of his throbbing cock when he brought his hands to the back of her head.

Cynthia's throat opened wider as pressure was applied to the back of her head. I'm not gonna get it all like this, Cynthia thought in desperation. Time to show these pigs who's boss. She got up carefully, and dexterously arranged herself to a low stoop.

Now for the twist... She spent long hours perfecting this technique on Robert. With the agility of a dancer she turned her body into the suck. With his cock spinning tightly in her throat, Cynthia turned tits up on his cock. It's always a little uncomfortable... oh good he gets it. 

Holy Fuck! Stanley never felt anything like that before. This can't be comfortable, the Captain's bronzed muscular arms reached around her waist, and pulled her up with a tiny kick supplied by Cynthia. He wrapped his arms below her bountiful ass, as her thighs wrapped around his head pressing her platinum blond bush in front of his face. 

That's better. Cynthia slid down the last few inches easily, as her throat stretched to capacity. Ooh, I didn't think he was going to do that. Cynthia hummed like a V-12 on his long cock as he very expertly licked her pink slit. 

The captain could not pass by her beautifully wet, delicious looking pussy. Her perfumed musky scent filled his nostrils as he pulled her long lips into his mouth with a strong suction. He pulled back and stretched them out until they left his lips with a wet smack. Stanley flicked her clit lightly, before he slid his long pink tongue into her hot tunnel. He was getting tired holding her up, and carefully sank to his knees. 

Cynthia seemed to know what he was thinking, as she released her thighs from his head and allowed him to lay her down onto her back. That proved effective but intolerable, because her hands were still cuffed. Her wrists started to hurt. 

Grant noticed her discomfort. He didn't really want to hurt her, and thought it would be more pleasurable for both if her hands were free. He stepped forward with a key, and with a gentle nudge, turned her over slightly to unlock the cuffs. 

Cynthia was going to thank him specially when it was his turn. Her thoughts returned to the Captain eagerly lapping at her delicious pussy. God damn he's good at that. Robert wasn't this good. 

With his muscular hips in motion he was able to feed her his cock much deeper. Soon Cynthia was breathing the sweet fragrance of his pubic hair. She felt his heavy nuts on her nose as she reached her limit. The Captain lifted his body, and pulled her legs back behind his arms.

The Captain was in full control as he applied pressure to her hardened clit. He flicked her swollen accelerator pedal, and drove her around a tight curve. Her throat was humming his cock and asshole into a flaming riot of tingles and spasms. He didn't want to stop, but if he kept going he was going to shoot. 

He lifted himself off Cynthia, and wrenched his solid cock from her still clutching mouth. He stood up and offered Cynthia his paw of a hand. She took it like a lady and stood up gracefully. The Captain led her to the pommel horse, and instructed her to turn around and lean on it. Several men nudged each other as they realized what was going to happen next.

Cynthia also knew. She found herself getting wet with anticipation, as she spread her ass wide with both hands. Here it comes, she felt a strong, greasy finger enter her asshole. Even though she enjoyed it immensely, this part of anal love making always had her on pins and needles. She wanted it, but always seemed to forget how much she loved it the last time. Every time was different, especially with a big cock. And his cock is sooo big, Cynthia sighed.

She has the perfect ass, he thought as he admired her white globes. He snuggled his plum sized head against her loosely puckered pink hole and pressed firmly against it. Hertzke closed his eyes as he gently pushed deeper.

Cynthia's face was unseen by the crowd. Had they seen it they would have seen a face torn between gut wrenching pain, and blinding pleasure. It always hurts in the beginning, just relax...good girl, and remember all the fun you had with Robert. That seemed to help her relax. He does seem to know what he's doing...she bit her lip, he's gentle, but just rough enough. Boy, he's really starting to stuff it in now, she exhaled loudly as she held onto her ass with a squeal. 

Hertzke held onto her hips as he buried his cock deeper into her ass. He started sweating as he breathed out through tight lips, and pressed onward forcefully. A few more inches...nice and slow. Worry about getting it in first, then let her have it, he thought.

Harding could hardly believe his eyes. The Chief's cock is so big, but she's taking it like a champ. Gees, she's pushing back on it now. He couldn't wait for his turn, but had to. He was sure her ass wouldn't be the same after the Captain, but he didn't care as long as he got his chance before everyone else. 

Hertzke had built up a steady rhythm. He would pull out leaving his head in, then drive it home to his balls steadily. He could tell Cynthia was loving it because she told him so, loudly.

"Yeah, Fuck my ass! Yeah! Oh Fuck, pound it...shiiittt!" Cynthia wailed like a slutty siren as the Captain battered her backdoor mercilessly. Robert never did it like this before, she remebered. He was so sweet, he was always worried about hurting me. But the Captain...he doesn't seem to care, and that's...that's..."Oh my God!" Cynthia screamed as the Chief picked up to a furious pace.

Take that killer, Stanley thought. He still believed she was getting off too easy for killing Robert Hargrove, and thought it his civic duty to carry out the sentence fully. Also he was never able to really fuck a woman in the ass the way he really wanted to...now that's something, he slowed down to pull out.

Wait a second, what's he doing, Cynthia thought briefly. She turned around to see the Chief whisper into Grant's ear. Grant nodded and smiled, then got on the floor and laid on his back. The Captain stepped up to her and took her hand, then led her to Grant whose cock was rock steady from watching the Captain carry out the sentence. 

Cynthia sensed what was about to happen. She started to panic, but knew she couldn't stop now. She was so close to freedom, she could taste it. She stepped over the big black man, and sank to her knees, straddling his meaty baton. Cynthia reached between her legs and found his cock, and rubbed his cock on the opening of her wet pussy with a desperate urgency. 

Fred felt her lips open wide, as she sank down on his length. Damn, she's hot! And wet. Fuck! Fred couldn't believe how tight her pussy was. He looked up at the gorgeous white woman grinding a slow rhythm on his cock. She smiled sweetly down at him, and sat back. He felt her hips swivel as he closed his eyes for a moment to regroup. A second later his eyes flew open as he felt her vagina clamp down like a wet vice.

"I thought you'd like that." Cynthia laughed as she kept squeezing and grinding. She lay forward, pressing her huge tits into Grant's chest. She knew what this posture would bring, and thought it best to get it over with. She looked into Grants deep brown eyes and asked quietly, "He's going to fuck my ass again, isn't he?"

Grant lifted his head up and looked past her shoulders at the Captain who was kneeling behind her. "Yeah, it looks like it." He almost felt sorry for this charming lady, but knew she deserved that, and more. He watched her facial expression change from worry to a slight, lopsided smile as he felt pressure along the bottom of his cock. 

She couldn't believe she could take it this easily. Sure, she felt fuller than she's ever felt, but every nerve was being ignited. Tingles and waves of electricity shocked her body as Hertzke and Grant coordinated their attack. One would pull out, as the other pushed in, creating a dual pleasure center in her loins. Cynthia was working towards the most extensive orgasm she's ever felt, as both men fucked her steadily like twin pistons.

Grant watched Cynthia's face closely, and could tell she was on the brink of an earth quaking climax. Her pussy was convulsing tightly, and with the Captain's cock rubbing against his on the other side of the separating membrane, he wasn't going to last long either. 

Cynthia was screaming at both of them to fuck her harder. Fred couldn't believe this girl, wasn't she getting enough? Her eyes were shut tight, but her mouth was wide open as she took her punishment well.

"OH FUCK! I'M COMING!!! Cynthia shrieked as her orgasm swallowed her whole. It washed over her from head to toe, then back again. Her skin pimpled and blushed as she dug her nails into the mat, and finally collapsed onto Grant's chest, exhausted.

Hertzke was working on his orgasm as well, just as Cynthia finished. He pulled out of her ass, and gently pushed her onto her back before he straddled her chest. The Captain fisted his cock rapidly, aiming it point blank at Cynthia's face.

Cynthia opened her eyes and smiled. "Yeah, let me have it!" She shouted for all to hear, and was echoed by a series of grunts and cat calls. She opened her mouth wide, and laid her tongue out flat. Closing her eyes tightly, she didn't have to wait long for the drenching to begin.

Fred was stroking his cock as well, waiting for the Captain to shoot first. Stanley planted his feet and threw his head back as his hot, white load exploded from his gun with rapid fire intensity. Grant watched the Captain blast Cynthia's face, hair and mouth, leaving it a complete mess. 

When she started scooping the stray cum into her mouth, he lost it. Grant furiously pumped six rounds onto Cynthia's pearly face. She opened her mouth to catch the volley.

"Thank you Captain, Lieutenant." She looked out at the incoming wave of eager faces. Cynthia whispered quietly to the Captain, "Can I take them one at a time, please? You guys really wore me out, and I can't do that again, for a while at least." Her eyes twinkled as she waited for a reprieve.

The Captain got what he wanted, as far as he was concerned justice was served. "Yes, Miss Graves, you may take them one at a time." He looked up at the crowd, "Play by her rules now, boys." He and Grant walked away to sit and watch the fireworks come to a climax.

Cynthia stood up, drips of sticky white justice swung broadly as she staggered to her feet. "Gentlemen! One at a time, no shoving. Pick a hole and stick to it. I don't want any come in my pussy or ass, so..." she bent down to the bucket of brown grease and slathered it between her ample breasts. 

"When you're ready to come, fuck my tits," she pressed them together and slid them against each other seductively. "Then fire-away," she presented her face as the finished product. "Who's first?"

Steve Harding stepped up quickly. "I'm first." He sounded ready for a challenge from anyone else. Steve was more than ready since watching Grant and the Captain, and was itching for his chance. He helped Cynthia to the floor, and crawled between her voluptuous thighs. He wanted to kiss her beautiful face, but thought he would be teased by the men, so he got right to it.

Cynthia spread her legs, and cocked them back towards her. She thought she was finished, but was surprised to find out she was just starting. Cynthia could see the struggle in Harding's eyes.

Pussy or ass? Harding decided, and poised his swollen cock head at the entrance of her loose backdoor, and hoped it was still lubricated. He easily pushed it in deep, and lay forward bringing Cynthia's legs up over his shoulders.

Cynthia clawed Steve's ass, pulling him in deeper until he found his rhythm, and humped her hips up against his powerful thrusts. She was surprised he didn't last longer, when he pulled out and quickly straddled her chest and pressed her tits around his cock. A few frenzied thrusts later, several rounds of salty seed erupted between her mountains like a volcano. She felt some land in her hair and beyond, then drip down her neck and shoulders. 

Steve was finished. He dismounted and invited the next man up to replace him. And so the train began, each man torn between pussy or ass. But the gang were so ready for it, none of them took more than a minute in either. Maybe less. 

In just over an hour, the last man gave the final coating to the Justice Wax. Cynthia's face was, from ear to ear, neck and hair, covered in a thick white ooze. Drops of warm cum dripped off of her neck and jaws, while her hair was matted and sopping. 

Deciding it was time to end it, Cynthia suggested loudly, "That's all folks!" The Captain and Grant approached to dismiss the men.

"As per usual, no one remarks on tonight's festivities. Miss Cynthia Graves has paid her debt to society, and is now considered free to go." Cynthia's heart sang with a chorus of angels. "Dismissed gentlemen! Fred you can go too. I need to speak with Miss Graves for a moment."

"Yes Chief." Grant bent over to say goodbye to Cynthia. "If you ever need anything, let me know," his smile big and bright.

"Thank you Detective Grant. I just might." She smiled back in a messy bubble, but didn't look at him because her eyes were sealed shut. She felt him leave the mat, and heard him enter the rowdy locker room. Then she felt a soft towel wipe her eyes dry. She opened them to a concerned look from the Captain.

"Are you o.k.? No internal injuries or anything?" The Captain finished wiping Cynthia's face clean. 

"No Captain, I feel wonderful." She smiled like the sun, as she writhed into a joyus exhaltation. 

When he was done wiping her down, he wrapped a fresh towel around her long, cum soaked blond hair. Then he helped her up with a galant flourish. They stood like shy children, wondering what to say next.

"Thank you so much for your enthusiasm this evening, Miss Graves," the Captain only smiled like this when he was happy. But he still had doubts. 

"Cynthia, please. It was my pleasure." She gave him a killer wink.

"May I ask you a...personal question?" 

"Sure, copper."

"Where were your parents from?"

"Holland. Why?"

"Nothing," he shook his head and smiled. "They have great Java at The Dirty Thirty, if you're interested?" He took her arm with the debonair charm of a Mediterranean God, and escorted her to the locker room.

"I know. I could always get my car in the morning?" She offered with a seductive tilt to her chin.

Stanley felt her hot hand caress the length of his cock. If this works out, the only person that needs to tail her, is me. Their eyes burned for each other. He took her into his strong arms and pressed his chiseled face against her full naked lips in a passionate embrace. She cradled his head within her slender fingers, and kissed him deeply in a climactic orchestrated fade out.



The Policeman's Helmet



It was almost the end of another ordinary day, in a very ordinary life. It was a cold, crisp November evening in the small English town that had been Julie Lovell’s home for the past twelve years. Twelve boring years stuck in a routine of monotony & regulation. Hell, her life was like groundhog day and the occasional weekend breaks away to see her parents or sister were the only times she got out of town to help break free from her safe, boring, regimented life. 

Thinking about it, going to visit family in neighbouring towns was hardly a trip to foreign shores, whisked away at the last minute by a romantic admirer who’d been in pursuit for several weeks, despite her teasing and feigning disinterest. Now that was the sort of excitement and fun that she needed in her life right now. Still, she had her wild imagination and king-sized bed to look forward to sinking into later. Right now, she needed to get her heeled shoes off of her aching feet and run a hot, steaming bath. 

Julie kicked off the sources of her pain and let out a small sigh of relief before ascending the stairs of her two storey flat. She turned the gold effect taps, inserted the plug in its hole and lowered herself onto the edge of her larger than average bath (a little luxury she had afforded herself being taller than average and spending time most nights in there). She peeled off her stockings and after removing her suspenders, she sauntered into the bedroom and over to the laundry basket in the corner. She looked out of the window and could make out the figures below of people scurrying to their homes and cars after a hard days work, just as she had done little more than half an hour before. She lowered her Venetian blind, blocking out the dark picture of distant bustle and paused at the full length mirror on her way back to the bathroom. 

She stared at her tired face and wished the anti-wrinkle creams that she’d been using religiously for the last several years had done their job properly. She smiled ruefully to herself as she studied the bags under her eyes and then allowed herself to survey the rest of her body. She unbuttoned her blouse and let it fall to the floor behind her, exposing her black push up bra and naked lower torso. Not too bad for a 45 year old spinster she thought, more in keeping with the figure of a twenty-something than a middle aged woman.

Her breasts were full and still quite firm and when she unfastened the clasp at the back of her bra and unhooked the straps from over her shoulders, they descended only a couple of centimetres and sat proudly on her slender upper-body. Finally she removed her black, knee length skirt and comfortable knickers and made her way back to the bathroom. 

Once ready, she slid into the steaming, foamy water and once her naked body was fully submerged, she rested her head and closed her eyes. It wasn’t long before Julie Lovell drifted to sleep.

She awoke with a start and it took a few seconds for her to realise where she was. She suddenly got the impression she wasn’t alone. Was that a noise coming from outside? She froze for several seconds, not wanting to make a sound. A minute or two passed and nothing. She breathed a sigh of relief and glanced at her watch on the shelf at the side of the bath. Seven o’clock. She figured she’d been asleep for about twenty minutes. 

Her stomach was starting to cry out for food and so she quickly washed herself, stepped out of the bath and grabbed her red towel robe which was hanging off the back of the door.  

As she passed her bedroom door, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. This time, she definitely heard something. She stood absolutely still until she heard the clunking noise once again. It seemed to be coming from outside her bedroom window. It was someone moving about out there. Someone or something was on the fire escape!  She nervously walked back over to her bedroom window, her heart racing, and pulled the chord on her Venetian blind to open the shutters so that she could see out onto the fire escape just to the left of her bedroom window.

She was immediately blinded by a shining light and automatically closed her eyes and turned her head away to avoid the sudden glare. It took a few seconds for the bright beam to subside and when she looked back up at the window, she was greeted by the sight of a man with his raincoat pulled open, naked underneath, now gleaming what was obviously a torch onto his exposed manhood. 

Rather than turn away in disgust, Julie Lovell stared at the sight beholding her and was somewhat impressed. In fact, she hadn’t seen a cock as big as that in ten years!
Whether the man was startled by the fact that he hadn’t scared his admirer as intended or whether it was just the fact that he’d achieved his aim, he suddenly switched off his torch, pulled his coat back around his naked figure and hastily made his exit down the fire escape and off into the dark distance.  

Julie dropped onto her bed and sat there for a few minutes, taking in what had just happened. She didn’t get a look at the flasher’s face, but judging by the speed of his movement and the shape of his body she figured that he was probably around ten years younger than herself. Nice and toned, strong legs and mmmm, that cock. No wonder he’d wanted to show it off to someone! She laughed out loud, partly to relieve the tension of what had just happened and partly in comic disbelief. 

She gathered herself together and made her way back downstairs where she quickly prepared and cooked a hot pasta dish. She devoured it while watching some silly quiz show on TV and then decided to phone her sister to tell her what had happened. 

Her sister, Claire, was a couple of years younger than Julie, but had been married for over twenty years and had two teenage children. Their lives were very different, yet they were best of friends and chatted at least two or three times a week on the phone. They liked to keep up with each others lives, thoughts and general gossip. 

Julie recounted the story to her younger sister, not skimping on any of the detail, especially when it came to describing the flasher’s manhood. 

“Sis, how can you find it so funny?” questioned Claire. “What happens if the freak had tried to break in? He could have attacked you.”

“Yeah, I know, but it was all over so quick and I’m pretty sure he just got a kick out of showing off to someone. No harm done.”

“You’re not thinking straight,” continued Claire. “What about if he comes back? I know you’re desperate for a bit of kinky fun in your life right now Jules, but he could seriously come back and try and rape you. What happens if he does it to someone a little less shock resistance than yourself? What if…”

“Ok, ok, point taken Claire. Thanks for putting those wonderful possibilities into my head. I’ll sleep much better now.”

“I’m just saying that you should be careful and report it to the police that’s all. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you or anyone else.”

Julie let out an exasperated sigh. Once again, she knew her sister’s sensible stance was the right one. She’d better call the police. “Alright Claire. I’ll ring the police. You never know, they may have a cock identity parade for me so that I can pick him out!”

“Honestly Jules! You’re insatiable! I’ll speak to you soon, take care won’t you?”

“Yeah, no problem sis. Love to Derek and the boys for me. Talk to you soon.”

She quickly dialled 999, requested police and held the line for a short moment before she was connected.

“Hello, this is the police. How can we be of assistance?”

Again, Julie recounted the events of earlier in the evening. She then gave a brief description of the flasher and her own details. 

“I see Miss Lovell. Well, we’ll send someone round immediately,” announced the police operator’s voice.

“That won’t be necessary,” protested Julie. “I’m OK, really, there’s no need”.

“Oh, there’s every need Miss Lovell. We need a statement for starters. This is a very serious matter. Like I said, we’ll have someone round with you in the next hour.” 

With that, the operator hung up. Typical, thought Julie, there goes my chance of an early night with my favourite vibrating mate. She sat down in front of the TV again and waited for the police to arrive. Except, she didn’t really watch any TV. Her mind kept wondering back to that lovely big cock that she’d had the pleasant surprise visit from earlier. 

Only fifteen minutes had passed when the buzzer to Julie’s flat sounded. 

“Hello,” said Julie pressing her intercom button.

“Hi,” came the response, “is that Miss Lovell? This is the police.”

Julie pressed the release button to open the main door downstairs and it was another minute before she heard a gentle knock at her door. She peered through the spy hole in her door and was surprised to see only one officer standing there. She thought they sent two people round on any domestic visits. Maybe she’d just gotten that impression from watching too many TV cop shows. 

“Have you got any ID?” she asked.

The policeman held his ID card up to the spy hole for Julie to view. It looked genuine enough she thought, but how would you know if it wasn’t anyway? The thought stayed with her for only a short while as she opened the door to let the officer in. 

Julie was immediately struck by how young the officer looked. She checked him out fully as he stepped into the apartment and removed his helmet, placing it under his right arm. She figured he was in his mid twenties, a tad over six foot, a little skinny,  but kind of handsome looking. Not drop down dead gorgeous, but there was definitely something about him. Yes, very nice. She liked a man in uniform. 

The young police officer spoke first. “Are you OK Ma’am?” 

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. Like I said to the operator, there wasn’t really any need to send anybody.”

“Yeah, well, best to leave those kind of decisions to us Ma’am.”

“Oh, call me Julie,” she interjected. 

“Sure. I got a brief run down of events from base but I need a statement and I’m going to need you to go through in as much detail as possible exactly what happened and what you saw.”

“Fine. Would you like a drink before I start?”

“Yeah, cup of tea would be great. Thanks”

Julie motioned to the table and chairs in her combined kitchen and dining room. “Take a seat then. Any sugar?”

“No thanks.”

“Can I ask you a question first?” Julie asked sheepishly.

The officer gave her a cheeky grin. “Depends on the question.”

“Well, don’t you normally come in pairs? You know, to peoples homes,” Julie quickly added.

“We like to if we can, but its not always possible. To be honest with you, this is the end of my first week out in the field. They don’t normally send novices like me on their own, but I was with the Sergeant when the call came through. He said it’d be good experience for me to come and take the statement myself and make sure you were looked after. He dropped me off and said he’d be back in about an hour as he’d got some business of his own to attend to. If we’re done sooner, I’ll radio him and go wait outside.”

“Oh, no. It’s bloody freezing out there tonight. I’ve got nothing planned anyway. Here’s your cuppa.”

“Thanks.”

Julie sat opposite the young policeman and for the third time that evening, recalled the events from earlier. 

“Did you see his face?” asked the officer.

“No, he dazzled me with the torch and it was too dark out there. I couldn’t even tell you the colour of his hair, sorry.”

“It’s Ok. What about his clothes? Did he have anything else on other than the dark raincoat?”

“No. Just his raincoat and ankle boots. Hiking style I think they were. He was quite athletically built and I’d guess he would be in his mid thirties.”

“What makes you say that,” asked the officer inquisitively.

“Just an initial impression I suppose.”

“Fair enough. Anything else? Any distinguishing features? Was he carrying anything else other than the torch?”

“No, he wasn’t carrying anything, but there was one other thing.”

“Oh yeah. What’s that?”

“He had a rather large penis.” 

Julie noticed the young officer’s face turn a bright shade of red as he buried his head in his notebook to enter the last bit of her statement. He then proceeded to take down the rest of Julie’s details and got her to sign the completed statement. 

“If you think of anything else, you can contact the station on this number,” he said. He handed her a card with the address and phone number on and wrote on his own details.

“PC Powell eh? Got a nice ring to it that,” Julie teased. She couldn’t help herself. She had quickly warmed to him and had already decided that young PC Powell would do quite nicely for her evening fantasy. She could even imagine he had the cock of the flasher when she unzipped his trousers and eased it out. In fact, she was already feeling a little wet between her thighs.

“Tell me PC Powell. What’s your first name?” 

He smiled at Julie as he got up from his chair to place his now empty cup back on the kitchen worktop. “Michael, but everyone calls me Mikey.”

Julie got up herself and slowly walked over to where Mikey was standing at the worktop. She let her robe open a little more at the top to expose a little cleavage and placed her cup next to his. “Care for another?” enquired Julie. 

“Err, no thanks,” replied Mikey. “I’ll be needing to go pee every five minutes if I have any more tea tonight.”

She stayed close to him as they stood in silence for a moment. She swayed slightly as she leaned against the counter, only inches separating them. Mikey gave her a nervous smile. He could smell her. Sweet, enticing. He also couldn’t help but glance down at the opening in her robe and wonder what exactly was under there. She’d got nothing on her legs, that was for sure. Great breasts by the looks of it as well. He suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable and wished his propensity for older women would desert him when he was working. He really did need to concentrate on the task at hand. He smiled nervously again. 

“Tea was great, thanks.”

“I know,” teased Julie. “You already thanked me once. How do you fancy a tart?”

“I bbbbeg your pardon,” stammered Mikey. 

“Jam tart. Made them yesterday. Would you like one?”

“Oh. yeah, why not, go on then. Does your husband enjoy your cooking?” Mikey tried to ask innocently. 

Julie tried to stop herself from getting too excited. She knew why he was asking the question but was he interested in her in a ‘making conversation’ kind of way or was he interested in her in a ‘I want to get you to bed’ kind of way? 

“Husband, who said anything about a husband?” she purred. 

“Oh, no one,” Mikey grinned. “I just assumed. You know, you’re of that sort of age and err, you look like you should have a husband.”

Julie giggled to herself as she bent down and got two jam tarts from the fridge. She spun back round, straightened her face and looked Mikey directly in the eyes as she sassily made her way back towards him. 

“That age huh? I look like a middle-aged housewife is that what you’re saying Mikey?” She fluttered her eyelashes and tilted her head to the side as she continued to stare at the young officer. 

“No, no, sorry. You got it all wrong…” 

Mikey stopped himself mid sentence and regained his composure. Julie was grinning like a Cheshire cat and he realised she was doing a great job of winding him up. What an idiot!

“I just meant,” he continued, “that you look too nice NOT to have a husband.”

“Well thank you,” replied Julie, handing him a tart. They smiled at each other again and continued to make eye contact as they ate in silence. When Mikey had swallowed his last piece, Julie leaned across the counter and pushed her chest out as far as she dared.

“Another half an hour at least before your sergeant comes back for you. Anything else you need to do with me before you go?” Julie raised her eyebrow and held her position as she waited for his response. 

“Yeah, I better check out your apartment really, make sure there are no security weak points and also have a look at where he, erm, exposed himself to you.”

“Ok Mikey. I’ll show you round. There shouldn’t be any problem though. All the windows have locks on them and being on the ninth floor, the only way anyone could get in is through the front door. The fire escape is about five metres to the side of my window and I can only access it via the corridor outside the apartment front door and vice versa for anyone out there really.”

“I see,” said Mikey. “Can you just take me to that window then?” 

“Sure, it’s in my bedroom, follow me.”

Julie led Mikey upstairs and into her bedroom to the right. The blind was still as it had been when Julie pulled it earlier so that it was possible to see through the horizontal slats. 

“There’s the fire escape,” said Julie pointing to her left. “And that’s where he headed when he hit the bottom of the steps. Across the street and towards the park. I lost him round about the bus shelter over there.”

“Right,” replied Mikey. Again he tried to focus on the job but he was acutely aware of Julie’s close proximity and obvious allure. He knew she was being flirtatious but just wasn’t sure if she was like that with everyone. God, stop it Mikey, he told himself. He took out his note book and looked around outside and then at the window, checking out its size and width of openings. 

“I better leave you to get on with it for five minutes,” said Julie. “Just come down when you’ve finished and made your notes.”

“Will do,” replied Mike, once again smiling at the sexy older woman stood not more than a foot away from him, in her bedroom. Christ, this job had its perks! 

He waited a few moments until he was sure she’d gone downstairs, let out a small sigh of relief and sat back on her bed. She was right. Secure as secure can be this apartment. He glanced round the room again and his eyes stopped at the small pile of clothes at the other end of the bed. He rolled over and bent down to closer inspect the only evidence he was interested in at that particular time. He reached over and lifted her bra off the floor. He guessed she must be at least a 36D and nodded his head in appreciation as he read the label which stated “38DD”. Nice, he thought, very nice indeed. He carefully put it back on the floor and picked up her panties. He couldn’t help himself. He lifted them to his nose and closed his eyes as he slowly inhaled the musky nectar, emanating from her underwear.

Julie had only descended half the steps on leaving her bedroom. She did so noisily, to give the impression to Mikey that she was back downstairs. She then slowly crept back up and peered through the crack in the door that she had purposefully left open to get a good view of Mikey at work. The more time she spent in his company, the more she thought about getting that uniform off and getting to what was underneath. 

She saw him sit down, look round, roll over and…was he looking at her…he was, he was picking up her bra and looking at it. He’s checking out the actual bloody size of my tits! Unbelievable, thought Julie, not sure whether to be pleased or upset. She saw him slowly replace the bra and was even more surprised at what he did next. She almost fell over backwards when he picked up her knickers and sniffed them as if it was the sweetest smell in the world. Julie was getting wetter and wetter and she just couldn’t let an opportunity like this pass. She pushed open the door and huskily whispered “Smell nice do they Mikey?”

He was snapped out of his reverie immediately and jumped as she spoke. He let go of the knickers at the same time and they flew in the air and landed in an apologetic heap on his lap. He brushed them off himself, trying to look as innocent as possible, the bright shade of red returning to his cheeks. 




The Policeman's Helmet



He raised his arms and hands in an apologetic gesture and tried to speak. No words came from out of his mouth. It was one of those moments where he wished a big hole would appear in the floor and swallow him up. 

“So, what have you got to say for yourself PC Panty-sniffer?” There was a small pause as Mikey looked down away from her glare. “Not a lot by the looks of it,” she continued as she walked over and stood in front of the embarrassed policeman. 

“I, I’m so sorry,” he managed to get out, still not daring to lift his head. “I didn’t mean any harm, I thought you were downstairs, I just, I…I’m sorry,” he repeated. 

Julie knew she had him now. It was just a pity she’d only got twenty minutes worth of fun before his sergeant was likely to return. 

“What is your sergeant going to say when I tell him what you’ve been up to? One week in the job and you go around sniffing innocent ladies knickers? Is this a regular habit of yours?”

“No Ma’am, I mean Julie. Not at all. I don’t know what made me do it. Don’t tell Sergeant Harris, please. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, anything, I promise.”

“Anything huh?” said Julie, her mind working overtime. “Ok, Mikey, here’s the deal. I’m guessing you were trying to get a smell of the real me. I’m guessing you like me. Am I right?” Mikey nodded. “Well, I’m kind of flattered and seeing as you’ve just had your kinky fun, it’s now my turn!” she smiled at Mikey and continued to stand over him, hands on hips. 

“What sort of kinky fun?” asked Mikey, not quite believing what he was hearing. Hell, he thought that was his career over before it had even started and not only was he going to get away with it, but he was getting “kinky fun” as she called it, into the bargain. He started to feel a stirring in his pants and his heart beat quickened.

“Ok Mikey. Here’s what you’re going to do for me. I want you to unzip your fly and slowly take out your cock. Then, I want you to pleasure yourself while thinking about what we could have ended up doing if you hadn’t got carried away and started sniffing my knickers. I’ll not tell your Sergeant if you manage to cum for me Mikey.”

“What, here, now?” blurted out Mikey, again not quite believing what the horny bitch was up to. 

“That’s right Mikey. Come on, get it out, let’s see what you’ve got.”

He was in no mood to argue but the potential stiffy of a minute ago was gone. Mikey was now as embarrassed as when she’d caught him red-handed just moments earlier. He’d never been that confident about the size of his cock and having to get it out in its current state, in front of a relative stranger was not exactly what he had in mind when she mentioned “kinky fun”. It didn’t help that her earlier words regarding the flasher were echoing round in his head, “There is one other thing…He had a rather large penis.” 

“Mikey, this is no time to be shy!” said Julie sternly. “Last chance before I go down and dial 999 again.”

He could see there was no way out of this other than to do as instructed. He kept his eyes firmly focused on Julie as he slowly undid his trouser buttons, then zip and lowered them to his ankles. The dirty bitch was as good as licking her lips and not taking her eyes off his crotch. He took a final deep breath and eased his white cotton boxer shorts down below his knees and let them fall the rest of the way, where they came to rest on the top of his trousers. He glanced down at his fairly limp member and could feel the colour returning to his cheek. He winced as he looked back up at Julie to gauge her reaction.

She was smiling wickedly now, stood literally a foot in front of him, hands still on hips, slowly shaking her head from side to side.

“What’s wrong officer?” she teased. “This assignment not exciting enough for you? Maybe this will help get the blood flowing.”

Julie slowly undid the belt tied in a knot at the front of her robe and pushed it off the back of her shoulders revealing her nakedness. The robe fell back on to the floor behind her and she took a step forward so that she was virtually touching Mikey’s feet with her own. 

The young policeman’s eyes almost popped out of his head. Her body was even more impressive than he’d imagined and he was captivated by her heaving breasts. Christ, she had a better pair of tits than most of the young girls he’d picked up when out down town. Julie moved her hands to her exposed mammaries and started to make circular movements around their circumference. She slowly moved her hands upwards, now tracing the edges of her areolas. Her actions were having the desired effect and she stared hungrily at the metamorphism of Mikey’s shaft from Pee-wee Joe, to King Dong. Well, perhaps not King Dong, but a real, erect, nice looking cock all the same. Standing to attention just for her. 

“Mmmm, that’s better Mikey. Now come on, I want to see you wank yourself off. Start rubbing that cock of yours up and down. Imagine me slowly lowering myself onto you and riding you like bucking bronco!” 

Mikey did as instructed and closed his eyes as he took a firm grip of his cock and slowly at first, moved his hand up and down, up and down. He thought of what she said and imagined Julie in the clothes he had been inspecting earlier. He loved women in stockings, suspenders and high heels and the picture in his mind of Julie removing her pants and impaling herself on his stiff cock as he was tied to the bed made his hand quicken as he continued to pleasure himself.

Julie had always loved to watch men jack off. To have a very handsome, young, virile police officer doing it right in front of her was not exactly what she had been expecting tonight! She traced her right hand down over her smooth upper body, through the small mound of pubic hair below her belly button and onto her clitoris. A tiny jolt of pleasure immediately surged through her and she continued downwards, finding the parting of her already soaking pussy lips. She slipped in her middle finger with ease and started to match the pace and movement of Mikey’s hand, in and out of her own slick cunt. She wanted to feel his cock deep inside her, pounding away. However, she had her plan to stick to now and this wasn’t so bad! As she continued masturbating, she leaned forward so that she could whisper in Mikey’s ear. 

“Are you going to cum for me baby? I need to see you shoot your load out over me Mikey. Can you cum for me, go on Mikey work that beautiful cock, cum for Julie. Yes Mikey, yes.”

She reached over to the side of Mikey and picked up his police helmet with her free hand and placed it on her head. Mikey was getting too worked up to notice what she’d done. He still couldn’t believe what was happening. This middle aged temptress was getting off on watching him get off! He’d started to feel at ease and truly enjoy what he was doing. He picked up the pace again, working himself towards an explosive climax. 

Julie continued with her dirty talk as she worked her finger faster and faster in and out of her labia and over her swollen clit. “That’s it Mikey. Oh, I’m so turned on. I’m going to bend down so you can shoot your wad all over me Mikey. I’m almost there myself baby, oh yes, oh yes, keep wanking that lovely cock. Oh yes, oh god, I’m cumming Mikey, Oh YEEESSSSSSS!”

Julie was on her knees, her head thrown back in ecstasy as the waves of pleasure ripped through her body. She had barely time to recover when Mikey’s moans started to get louder. “Yeah, I’m doing it honey, I’m gonna cum, get ready, Oh, oh, aaaghhh, oh god, yes Julie, its all for you. Oh god, get ready you horny bitch, I’m gonna cum, yes, yes, OOOHHHHHH, JULIE!”

His cock twitched and as it did, Julie tilted her head forward and down. She saw the first ejaculation of sperm erupt from the end of his cock and heard it splat on the helmet, still quietly resting on her head. He continued pounding his own cock up and down as jet after jet of fresh spunk spurted from his erect phallus to land messily on his own helmet. He collapsed backwards on the bed, not yet realising the final consequences of his pleasurable encounter. “Oh yes!” cried Mikey triumphantly. “That did it for you did it? You like watching young men masturbate huh?” 

As the words left his mouth, he pushed himself up on his arms to look at Julie. His mouth gaped open. Julie was kneeling down at the foot of the bed wearing his sperm coated helmet. She had the biggest grin she’d managed all night. “Oh yes PC panty-sniffer, that definitely did it for me. Just wonderful! I’ll be sure to keep our little secret safe now.”

“Shit!” stammered Mikey starting to panic again. “Look what you’ve done to my bloody helmet. It’s a right fucking mess. What am I gonna tell the Sarge?”

“Don’t worry honey, you’ll think of something. Tell him I was sick in it. I’ll clean it up for you and you can come and collect it one night next week when you’re off duty. How would you like that?” She winked at Mikey. 

“Err, yeah. Ok.” He said in a state of disbelief. “I’m off Tuesday. You will get it clean for me though?”

“Of course baby.”

They were interrupted by the cackle of Mikey’s walkie talkie. “Ten-four. Come in Mikey. Are you there lad?” 

Mikey carefully picked up his handset with his left hand. “Yes Sarge. I’m here. I’ll just be five minutes Sarge, the lady was a bit upset and I’ve just had to take action to calm her down.”

“Oh right lad. Do you need me to come up?”

“No, no Sarge. Everything is under control. Just going to have to leave my helmet that’s all. Julie, I mean Miss Lovell, was sick in it earlier and she’s promised to get it cleaned up for me.”

“Sick in your helmet? How the…never mind. Ok son, I’ll be outside the flats waiting for you.”

Julie and Mikey got themselves cleaned up quickly and made their way back downstairs in silence.

“Have you got everything Mikey?” said Julie still smiling wickedly. “Note book?”

“Yeah, I got everything.”

“Right, thanks for everything then officer. I look forward to seeing you on Tuesday. Can you wear your uniform again?”

“Err, suppose so,” replied Mikey. “Be round about seven OK?”

“Perfect.”

“Right, bye then,” said Mikey unsure if he should go and kiss Julie. He moved towards the door uneasily, deciding it best not to try his luck too much. “You will get my helmet spotless won’t you?”

Julie gave Mikey an exasperated look. “Don’t worry so much. I’ll see you Tuesday.”

“Ok, see you then.”

“I can’t wait,” sighed Julie. “Oh and Mikey,” she called after him.

“Yes?”

“Be a good boy and bring round a pair of handcuffs.”

Mikey shook his head in disbelief as he closed the door behind him. He gathered himself a moment before choosing the stairs to exit out of the flats. He was still struggling to comprehend what had just happened. It was like something out of a bloody porno movie! As he left the building, he took a quick glance up towards Julie’s window. He placed his thumbs to his forehead as he closed his eyes, laughed out loud, turned and jogged back to the waiting patrol car.

Julie couldn’t stop grinning to herself. What a result! She couldn’t wait to return to the bedroom and retire for the night with her vibrator, to think about what the follow up encounter would have in store on Tuesday. However, first she was going to call her sister and tell her all about the policeman’s helmet…


To be continued…


This is my first effort at erotica. I would really appreciate any feedback or comments you have. Please be honest – I have thick skin and aim to learn quickly (glowing praise is also very welcome!) Finally, please vote and look out for my forthcoming stories…



The Policeman's Revenge



Michael Powell was exhausted now. He lay very still, taking small, shallow, quick breaths. On his lumpy single bed, staring at the cracked, white ceiling of his room, Michael recounted the events of earlier that night, in his own private mind movie. He took one deeper breath, closed his eyes and smiled. He opened them again and reached over to pick up the toilet roll from the floor at the side of his bed. He wiped away the sticky mess that had landed on his flat stomach a minute before, cleaned the head of his now shrinking phallus and finally wiped his hands. He got off the bed, still naked, and made the short trip down the hall, mistakenly thinking there was no one else home. 

Victoria opened her door adjacent to the shared bathroom just as Michael placed his hand on the knob of the bathroom door. He froze, turned his head and saw the grinning face of his flatmate peering out of her doorway looking directly at his exposed backside. He hopelessly tried to cover himself up, but only succeeded in showing off the big clump of sticky toilet roll in his hand. Not for the first time that day, Michael cursed his luck. Being caught in two compromising situations in one day had to be some sort of record. "Sorry Vix," he offered. "I didn't think anyone else was in."

"Obviously not," she replied still eyeing him up and down with a Cheshire cat grin, almost reaching from one ear to the other. "I thought it was a full moon tonight. Thanks for the confirmation Mikey!" 

"Anytime," he muttered before entering the bathroom, making sure to lock the door behind himself. He could still hear Victoria giggling in the hall way as he threw the toilet roll into the loo and flushed. He cleaned himself up in the shower and let the pulsating hot water help re-energise his aching muscles. What a day. 

Back in his room, his mind wandered forward to Tuesday. The night he was next going to meet Julie Lovell. Earlier that day, she had caught him sniffing her knickers in her flat. He'd been there investigating a 'flashing' incident that Julie had been the victim of. Right now he felt like a victim himself. She'd made him masturbate in front of her and had tricked him into covering his own helmet with his ejaculation. Alright, so at the time it'd had given him a hell of a thrill and Julie was one sexy woman. She was confident, flirtatious and for an older woman, she had a wonderfully voluptuous figure. But, he still felt pretty humiliated. 

He was going round on Tuesday to retrieve his helmet and his kinky tormentor had asked him to wear his uniform again and ensure he took round some handcuffs. He had no doubt as to what her intentions were. While the idea of getting to make love to this fantasy figure was more than appealing, he also wanted to get his own back. The question was how? Michael Powell fell asleep soon after, confident that by the end of the weekend, he would have a plan. 

* * * * *

The four days since Julie Lovell's 'police encounter' had been the four longest days of her life. She simply couldn't wait to get her hands on PC Michael Powell. Now, the day had finally arrived. Over the weekend, she'd treated herself to new, lacy, expensive, sexy lingerie and a revealing low cut crop-top. She'd also spent every spare minute in her flat fingering and vibrating her swollen clit, inserting several cock substitutes into her desperate pussy. Now, umpteen satisfying orgasms later, she was ready for her next 'police encounter'. 

In an attempt to calm her nerves, Julie had had two glasses of red wine when the buzzer finally sounded in her flat. Michael Powell was outside the building and he was right on time. She took a deep breath before walking over to intercom and pressing the talk button. "Hello?" she said in the sexiest voice she could muster. 

"Hi Julie, it's Mikey. I've come for my helmet remember?"

"How could I possibly forget Mikey. Come on up."

She could hear the pounding wind and rain as he spoke and quickly pressed the release button allowing Mikey access to the flats. Julie hoped the storm brewing was an indication of things to come in the bedroom. She still retained a small, nagging doubt that Mikey would pass up the chance of more sexual games, but she was going to do everything she possibly could to make sure it happened

Julie paused at the mirror in her hall to check her hair and make-up. As she straightened her skirt, she heard the quiet, apologetic knock at her flat door. Her heart was pounding as she moved towards it. She prayed to herself that the young officer was wearing his uniform. On his day off, that would surely indicate that her luck was in.

She felt like a love-sick teenager, her knees trembling a little as she bent forward to look through the peephole. Her heart sank, a horrible feeling developing in the pit of her stomach. He was wearing his uniform alright, but he wasn't the only officer out there.

She knew that nothing was going to happen. How stupid of her. To think that this handsome, young, virile police officer would want to make love to her. Plain Julie Lovell, forty-something nobody from Smalltown, England. What had she been thinking? An instant feeling of regret washed over her. Why had she not taken him when she had the chance the other night? She paused a moment, trying to re-compose herself before slowly opening the door. 

Mikey spoke first in a gentle, caring manner before stepping inside, his colleague close behind him.

"Hello again Miss Lovell. How are you?" 

"Fine," replied Julie sharply, failing miserably to hide her disappointment. 

"This is WPC Davenport," said Mikey motioning to his colleague. Julie and the attractive female police officer shook hands as Mikey continued. "I'm afraid we still have no suspect. There have, however, been two other incidents in the local area since he paid you a visit. He hasn't been back here has he?"

"No. No such luck," said Julie under her breath.

"Sorry?"

"No, he hasn't been back," replied Julie curtly.

"Everything OK Ma'am?" asked WPC Davenport. "You're not still nauseous are you?"

"What?"

"You know, you being sick in PC Powell's helmet the other night. Are you alright now?"

"Oh that. Yes. Fine. Couldn't be better. I suppose you want it back?" said Julie looking directly at Mikey.

"Well, that's why I'm here," he replied smiling. He searched the room with his eyes before asking, "where is it?"

"Err, I only got chance to clean it this morning. It's drying upstairs. I'll go and get it."

"Great," said Mikey. "I'll come up and just double check outside your window. I need to just shine my torch onto the fire escape if that's OK. I forgot to do it the other night when I was here, to make sure he hadn't left us any clues behind."

"Huh, some policeman you are," said Julie. "OK, follow me." She added, before hurriedly turning and running up the stairs. 

"Give me two minutes Anna," said Mikey to his colleague. He winked and turned to follow Julie up the stairs and into her bedroom, the scene of his 'humiliation' the other night. He pushed open the door just as Julie was hastily closing a cupboard. She moved across the room towards Mikey and picked up his helmet from the bed.

"Clean enough for you?" she asked, thrusting the helmet firmly towards Mikey's stomach.

"Yeah, looks great. Thanks," he replied as if nothing untoward had ever happened. 

"I thought it was your day off. I thought we were going to have some fun Mikey." Julie couldn't help herself. She had built up so much expectation and had looked forward to this night so much. Almost a year since she'd last been with a man, the other nights events had left her feeling sexier than ever. Right now, she felt crushed.

"Sorry Julie. Best just to leave it at that eh? No hard feelings OK?" said Mikey softly. He held his hand out to Julie. She looked down at the floor, back up at Mikey and then took his hand and gave it a gentle shake. As she did so, Mikey quickly snapped a pair of handcuffs over her wrist using his own free hand. Before she knew what was happening, Mikey had pushed her towards the bed and clicked the empty cuff on to the post of the headboard. 

Julie didn't speak. Her mind was whirring, a concoction of mixed emotions and confused thoughts. Mikey was stood over her with a smug grin on his face, happy now that the tables were turned. His plan had worked perfectly. She looked divine and he couldn't wait to have his wicked way with her. He almost licked his lips in anticipation, trying to think where he should start. His manhood already starting to outgrow his boxers. 

"What are you doing?" hissed Julie trying to be quiet. "Is this a bloody joke? I wanted you so much tonight Mikey and all I get is this." She tried in vain to pull her hand free, a tear in her eyes, not yet understanding exactly what was happening. 

"Julie. It's OK. You will have me tonight." He bent down to look her in the eyes. 

"I, I, don't understand. What about WPC Whats-her-name downstairs? You're not going to leave me here and come back later are you Mikey? I, I'm sorry about the oth…"

"Julie, shush." Mikey put his finger to her mouth and then replaced it with his own lips, gently kissing her. He pulled away as she was about to respond and stood up straight. He went to the bedroom door and whistled loudly down the stairs. 

"OK Anna, you can come up now," he shouted. 

Julie sat on the edge of her king size bed wondering what the hell was going on as she heard the footsteps of Mikey's colleague coming up the stairs. Mikey stood facing the door waiting. He smiled contentedly, arms folded across his chest as he saw Anna approaching. 

"Julie, I'd like to present WPC Anna Davenport as never seen before!" 

Julie's eyes nearly popped out of her head as Anna walked into the room. Gone was the tied up hair underneath her police hat, the knee length, plain black skirt and flat shoes in which she had entered Julie's home. Her long auburn hair was now flowing freely, she had on brilliant red lipstick and all that was left of her uniform was the white blouse which now had the top three buttons undone exposing an impressive cleavage. She wore no underwear, the blouse flimsily covering her shaved pussy, resting in line with the top of her stockings. Her long legs were now covered up to her lower thigh with black latex dominatrix boots. They had four inch heels, an extra thick sole, were tight to the skin and laced up the front from top to toe.

Anna confidently strutted over to Mikey without looking at Julie and placed one hand on his chest while lightly kissing his lips, her blouse lifting at the back giving Julie a view of her perfect buttocks. 

Julie was lost for words. She'd never really been attracted to women but looked jealously at the younger woman's firm, shapely rear and slim figure. Anna's breasts weren't as big as her own but they definitely looked more pert. She had to admit to herself that this girl was strikingly beautiful and goddamn sexy. 

Anna broke away from Mikey and turned to face Julie again. She hungrily looked the older woman up and down, nodding her head in appreciation as she did so. Julie noticed that she was slowly stroking a leather whip through her hands while continuing her intense study of Julie's body. Julie was starting to feel a little edgy and looked questioningly at Mikey.

Mikey was still smiling to himself. One fantasy older lady handcuffed to her own bed and one sex-mad, bi-sexual, horny colleague looking like she'd stepped straight from the pages of Fetish Monthly. The perfect recipe was of course completed by the ingredient of himself, twitchy-cocked schemer with recent luck of the Irish. 

"Relax Julie," he said reassuringly. "You'll enjoy yourself much more."

"Mikey, I'm not sure about this," replied Julie. "I think this has all been a big mistake."

"I thought you said she was confident and domineering?" questioned Anna turning to look at Mikey. 

"Oh, she is," said Mikey, "she most certainly is. I think she just needs to learn how to enjoy being told what to do. I reckon she's a natural dominator and so we'll just give her a bit of her own medicine. OK?"

"Sounds good to me," replied Anna. 

"OK ladies, time to shed some clothes!" announced Mikey. He walked over to where Julie was sat at the edge of her bed and stopped. He stood in a commanding pose, his crotch almost touching her nose. "Julie, I want you to unbutton and unzip my trousers before easing them down over my legs." 

Julie did as instructed, as Anna moved in behind Mike and took off his jacket. She then reached round and unbuttoned his shirt slowly from top to bottom. Pulling the shirt from his exposed torso, she used both hands to caress his chest and nipples, lightly kissing the back of his neck and shoulders as he stepped out of his trousers, now resting on the bedroom floor. 

Julie could see the bulge in Mikey's white Calvin Klein boxers start to grow as his colleague playfully rubbed and tweaked at his nipples. She was starting to defrost a little. A hot flush hit her cheeks as she instinctively reached up and ran her hand along the cotton outline of his hardening cock. 

"Mmmmm. That feels nice," said Mike smugly, his prick now stretching the material of his underwear to breaking point. "Please release me, let me go!" he suddenly belted out at the top of his voice. 

Julie wondered what had happened to the nervous young man she had forced to masturbate for her only a few nights before. She preferred him. 

"Don't get too cocky," she said staring at Mikey.

"Or what?" he laughed. "Don't tell me, you'll call the police! Don't you like it when the boots on the other foot Julie or are we just jealous of Anna here? I wouldn't blame you. She's gorgeous isn't she? We met on our six week induction course, got drunk one night and fucked like rabbits. Anna made it clear she wasn't interested in a relationship, which suited me fine, but she also made it clear that she's crazy about sex and also loves women. Isn't that right Anna?"

"Uh huh. Men or women, as long as they're not displeasing to the eye, then I'm happy. Very happy." As she was completing her sentence, Anna Davenport lowered Mikey's boxers down and let them fall to the floor. She grabbed his cock in her right hand between thumb and forefinger and slowly started to stroke up and down. She looked at Julie as more low moans escaped Mikey's lips, his throbbing phallus still close to Julie's face.

"Is this what you liked watching the other night, you kinky bitch? Would you like Mikey to shoot off into your face this time? Despite being old enough to be my mother, you certainly are as sexy and gorgeous as he described. Unfortunately, you're not as much fun as I'd hoped. Come on Mikey, let's try and make this a more enjoyable experience for our hostess."

"Fair enough. OK Julie, lets see some of that form that's had me wanking like a pubescent boy for the last three nights."

He released himself from Anna's grip and reached over to grab hold of the bottom of Julie's tight, low cut top. In one quick movement, he pulled it over her head before she had time to protest. He playfully ran his hands over her ample bosom, still encased in the lacy crimson bra that Julie had bought at the weekend. 

Starting to relax a little, Julie figured she may as well as try and get some pleasure out of this crazy experience even if it wasn't what she had in mind initially. She gently let her head roll backwards and closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of Mikey's soft hands roaming at will over her caged breasts. A small sigh inadvertently escaped her full lips. 

"Wow, you were right about those tits Mikey." Anna grinned at her colleague. "Let's release them, so I can have a proper look," she added. Stretching round to her back, Anna skilfully released the bra clasp and lifted the straps off her shoulders. 

Mikey stood in awe as he watched the gentle fall of Julie's breasts. They jiggled slightly and as they came to rest sat large, round and proud. Her nipples were noticeably erect and she glanced from side to side, suddenly enjoying the attention of her two young admirers. This wasn't going to be so bad after all. 

"Well come on then, you two!" exclaimed Julie. "Stop just staring at them and give them the attention they so obviously deserve." 

Mikey grinned once more, relieved that Julie at last seemed to be letting go of her initial anger and fears. He leaned over and just as he reached Julie's left nipple with his eager tongue, he immediately felt and heard a loud 'thwack' on his backside. 

"Yeeeoooww!" he exclaimed standing upright. Anna was stood behind him, whip in hand with a scowl on her face.

"We call the shots today Mikey. Remember?" She took the sorry frown from Mikey to be a 'yes' and quickly unbuttoned her own blouse. She motioned Mikey out of the way and stood directly in front of Julie. She bent over at the waist until her firm breasts were within licking distance of Julie's mouth. "Me first Missy," ordered Anna. "Let's see how you like sucking tits. Ever done it before?"

Julie was too dumfounded to speak and shook her head from side to side. As the demanding mammeries were inched ever closer to her, she tentatively snaked out her tongue and began to gently lick at the hardening nipples. She was pleased when Anna closed her eyes and swallowed deeply, enjoying the sensations on the tingling tip of her breast. 

"Mikey darling," Anna said breathily, keeping her eyes closed. "Make me nice and wet so that you can slide that delicious cock of yours up my hungry cunt."

Julie paused for a moment when Anna spoke. Looking up and seeing the dissatisfied look on Anna's face, she knew that was a mistake. She quickly continued gently sucking and nibbling Anna's breasts as Mikey reached from behind, in between Anna's legs and used two fingers to trace round the outlines of her pussy lips. He could feel that she was already moist.

He turned away from Anna and lowered himself to the floor until he was sat on his bottom. He inched backwards until his head was directly under her shaven mound. Spreading her lips open, he reached up and gently ran the flat of his tongue down the middle of her sex, pausing at her swollen clit. Slowly circling the exposed bud, he found it easy to slip a finger up and into her moist, hot cunt. He curled his finger round to pressure her G-spot and quickly flicked his tongue carefully over her pleasure point. 

Anna let out an involuntary moan, her body quivering. "Mikey, get your cock in there. Oh god that's so fucking good. I want you to fuck me now while Julie continues paying attention to my tits. Oh god, she's doing…ooh, yes…a great…mmm… job."

Mikey wasn't going to argue with that. His cock was at full mast, stood to attention as if ready to go into battle. He didn't think he'd ever seen it so hard and big. He was in heaven. His first threesome was going to take some beating. 

Julie noticed the self satisfied expression on Mikey's face as she took a short break from attending to Anna's breasts. By the look of his cock, he was obviously in his element. Although a little jealous and disappointed that she would have to wait her turn, Julie was looking forward to seeing it slide in and out of Anna. She started to pray that Mikey held out and saved his major load for her. 

Anna was busy adjusting her position by leaning over further, so that her rear was sticking out as far as possible. She spread her legs apart to give herself a firm base and placed her hands on Julie's bed for support. 

Julie shuffled round herself with the dual purpose of getting a better view and continuing her assault on Anna's protruding chest. She lay on her back, across the bed, her feet facing away from Anna and Mikey. She slid herself backwards in between Anna's supporting arms. Anna lowered herself a little further and again let out a low moan as Julie flicked at both her nipples in tandem, with her tongue and free hand. 




The Policeman's Revenge



Julie was able to look behind her and see Mike slowly enter Anna's glistening pussy. She was aware of the increasing dampness between her own legs and needed some relief. Again, she prayed that Mikey would hurry and take care of the needs of the young, demanding temptress whose right nipple was currently nestling gently between her own teeth. She quickly tweaked the other one as Mikey's full length completed its short but pleasurable journey.

"Fuck yeah!" cried Anna. "Oh god Mikey, does that feel as good to you as it does to me? Oh, just like that. Yeah, oh yeah Mikey nice and slow. You feel so big. Oh god, fuck me, fuck me!"

Anna lifted her left hand off the bed and adjusted her legs slightly to compensate for the decreased support. She quickly located her clit and started quickly rubbing her pearl. Good, thought Julie, this girl was in a hurry!

Mikey gradually picked up the pace as he pumped in & out of Anna's soaking quim. As her screams got louder and her body started bucking, he could feel his own orgasm slowly building. He desperately wanted to hold out for Julie and used his tried and trusted method of slowing the blood flow. Forgetting about the dream come true he was currently participating in, he closed his eyes and imagined he was fucking Margaret Thatcher.

"Oh god, oh god, keep going both of you, I'm gonna cum. Oh god, oh yes, give it to me, harder, harder." 

Anna's fingers were now moving back and forth at a furious pace as Mike started to piston in and out of her. Julie continued to increase the pressure of her twists and tugs on Anna's nipples and within seconds Anna was screaming and moaning so loudly that Julie was sure the majority of the occupants in the fifteen storey block of flats would know what was going on. 

"OOOHHHHHH GODDD YEEESSSSSS!" yelled Anna, before collapsing on the bed at the side of Julie. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing heavily, a wide smile decorating her flushed face. Her body was tingling from head to toe as if small, pleasurable electric shocks were being magically applied. 

"Well that seems to have seen her off," said Julie grinning, thankful that her same sex encounter hadn't been too involved. She was sure Mikey hadn't cum and needed her own pussy filling. "Have you got a licence for that loaded weapon? Looks like it could go off any minute!"

Anna suddenly stopped smiling and sat up. "Now, now Julie. Not so eager. That orgasm has just wetted my appetite for more." She stood up and approached Mikey. "How we doing there big boy? I think Julie's right about your cock. It's covered in my juices and looks in desperate need of attention. Here Julie, have a taste of my pussy juice."

Anna led Mikey over to where Julie was still lying on the bed. She didn't move. 

"Now come on Missy," demanded Anna. "Mikey needs your tongue. Do it or I'll be forced to use my persuading whip. Now get on all fours!"

Mikey could see that Julie wasn't enjoying herself as much as he'd hoped. He was starting to feel a little guilty. Still, a little more humiliation and they would be even. He bent down and softly kissed Julie on the lips. 

"This time, no helmet covering. I'm gonna cum in your mouth Julie. Don't spill any either, otherwise we'll be forced to leave you handcuffed to the bed all night."

Julie uneasily watched Anna pick up her whip and walk threateningly round to her exposed rear. She figured she'd rather have a mouth full of Mikey's seed than a whipped behind. She took hold of the base of his cock and skilfully swallowed his thick, heavily veined phallus. Her tongue teased and twirled while taking in the taste of Anna's sweet pussy juice. Concentrating on the head of his cock, she used her free hand to gently massage his balls and rub the base of his throbbing member. 

As she moved her hand away and started to work his cock from top to bottom, she suddenly felt her own jolt of pleasure. She paused for a second as the unexpected tongue of Anna darted around her labia. It felt different, sending a shiver of excitement down her spine. It felt quite gentle and soft, yet intense and deliberate. She released her mouth from Mikey's cock for a while to get used to the sensation and spread herself further to give Anna full access. 

"Ohhh. That feels nice Anna. Mmmm, that's wonderful." 

Julie swallowed Mikey again, upping the pace considerably, her head bobbing backwards and forwards at a rapid rate. Her enormous breasts were swinging below her as she continued to swirl and suck up and down Mikey's throbbing cock.

"Fuckin' hell," cried Mikey. "This is so hot. I can't believe this is happening. Oh god, I'm gonna come soon Julie, I can't hold out much longer. Oh god, oh god."

He gently grabbed hold of her hair and thrusted his pelvis in time with her own movements until he reached the point of no return. He threw his head back as he felt his semen explode into her mouth, the wave of pleasure ripping through him. His legs felt like jelly and his head started wobbling as Julie sucked every last drop out of his cock without spilling a drop.

"My god Mikey. That was hard work swallowing it all," said Julie. "Tasted good though. Oh, god, mmm, keep going Anna. Was that nice Mikey?"

"Nice? It was AMAZING Julie. Best blow job I've ever had. Thanks."

"Ohh, ohh, my pl..e..as..u..re," Julie managed to squeeze out as she felt her own orgasm surprisingly start to build. No man had ever made her cum from just licking. It usually needed an added finger or two but the way Anna was going, she knew she wouldn't last much longer.

Sensing Julie was close to climax, Anna had other ideas. She gave her one last long, slow, teasing lick from just below her asshole to her swollen bud and sat up on the bed. She winked at Mikey.

"Don't stop now!" squealed Julie, I was enjoying that. 

"Glad to be of assistance," smirked Anna, "but to earn more pleasures, you first need to show us how much you now like women."

"I don't really," replied Julie scowling. "That was nice, that's all. Anyone would have enjoyed that, even the Queen."

"Thanks for the compliment hun, but if you want us to finish the job and really give you something to remember, I need you to return the favour. The taste of your juices has made me all wet again."

Julie turned to look at Mike. He gave her an inquisitive look before speaking. "I didn't even know you last week and I wanked for you. I know you desperately want me to fuck you and believe me, I want that too. However, I need to recover and get hard again and seeing you licking Anna's cunt would have me rising like the river Thames during a torrential downpour." He grinned at his own metaphor and could see Julie was weighing up her options. 

"If I do this Mikey, then I expect something extra special in return and I also want you to release me from this handcuff. My arm is beginning to ache."

"Fair enough," he replied. "No running off though." 

He reached over onto the floor and searched in his trouser pocket for the key. He undid the handcuffs and started to tie them back to his belt when Anna piped up. 

"I think I'd like to make use of those for my next pleasuring. In fact, while you're at it Mikey, be a good boy and whip those stockings off Julie and cover my eyes. I do enjoy being blindfolded."

Mikey first handcuffed Anna to the bed head, her arms outstretched behind her as she lay on her back. He then helped Julie off with her stockings and tied them both tightly behind Anna's head. 

"See anything?" he asked.

"No, perfect." she replied. 

Anna lifted her hips off the bed and spread her legs as wide as she could to give Julie a nice initial view of her glistening sex. Julie tentatively moved round before climbing back on the bed. She paused taking in deep breaths, her eyes not leaving the spot between Anna's legs. 

Mikey could see that Julie was a little nervous. To encourage her, he winked and then used his tongue to tease Anna's nipples. She immediately let out a little yelp at the unexpected contact. 

Julie slowly lowered her head and starting with her fingers, tracing a line from the bottom to the top of Anna's pussy. She was pleased when Anna released a throaty, wanton moan. She gently parted the young woman's swollen lips and licked round the perimeter of her labia. She slowly and gently continued across the middle of her opening until reaching her engorged clitoris. She imagined it was her own as she gently swirled her tongue around and around, back and forth. pursing her lips, she delicately sucked at the tingling bud. 

Mikey continued to tease Anna's nipples and massage her perky breasts while not daring to take his eye off Julie's virgin pussy licking. He was less than a foot away, positioned over Anna's face. His cock slowly came back to life and he used his hand to lower it to Anna's lips.

She jumped and yelped again at the unexpected invasion of her mouth before tilting her head back so that she could lick along his entire length. 

Mikey could see the red flush appearing on Anna's cheeks and chest as Julie continued to tease and torment her soaking mound and clit with increased confidence. Her breathing and moaning were becoming quicker and louder. Mikey decided it was time he entered Julie. He couldn't ever remember recovering so quickly after unloading, even as a teenager. He just had to fuck the sexiest older woman he'd ever met. No more waiting. 

He walked round to the bottom of the bed, his bouncing pole leading the way, radaring in on target Julie. She was at the perfect position for him to enter her doggy style while standing at the base of the bed. 

Before he had chance, Anna came again. She screamed out even louder than before, her body trembling and face tensed as she enjoyed the powerful release of her latest orgasm. 

Mikey noticed that Julie had slipped a couple of fingers in to Anna's cunt to help finish her off. It had certainly done the trick. Great timing he thought to himself. 

"You OK Anna?" he asked.

"Uh huh," she murmured, still shaking and coming down from her sexual high. Two fantastic and very different orgasm's in one day. She was well and truly spent.

"Can I leave you like that Angel, while I take care of our luscious host?"

"Oh no Mikey," she replied quickly. "I want to watch, I want to help. Julie has been a good girl and deserves all the pleasure we can give her."

No more waiting indeed thought Mikey. He quickly un-cuffed Anna as Julie untied the blindfold. 

"Thank you Julie. Thank you so much. That was…intense," breathed Anna. "Are you sure you've never done that before?"

"Positive. You tasted sweet though. I enjoyed it."

"Sorry if I came on a bit strong earlier. I get a bit carried away when I put this gear on and get into character. You really are a very sexy lady though Julie. I hope we can do this again."

With that, Anna leaned into Julie and their lips tenderly met. To Mikey's surprise Julie responded to Anna's probing and he watched open mouthed as their tongues entwined in a passionate embrace. It was just about the most erotic thing he'd ever seen.

Now he REALLY needed to fuck her. 

"Ah hmm. Err, when you're ready ladies," he said nervously. 

They broke off and Julie reached up and placed her hand on Anna's face. 

"Thanks sweetie. You really know how to make an old lady feel good about herself." She turned to Mikey. "Now come on stud, how do you want me? I need to feel that rigid shaft of yours inside me. Now!"

"As you were. I'm feeling like a wild animal right now and I wanna fuck you doggy-style. I want you to feel my entire length gliding in and out."

Julie did as requested and Mikey finally got what he'd been waiting for. They both let out a lengthy moan as he entered her. 

As he slowly rocked back and forth, Anna kneeled at the side of Julie and located her asshole with her wet little finger. She pushed down gently, her finger quickly disappearing. Julie's moaning intensified as she wiggled it around. 

Anna figured it wasn't the first time anyone had entered that particular hole and slowly pulled out. She licked her fore and middle fingers and carefully pressed down, again breaking the momentary resistance. Julie's anal walls closed eagerly on her fingers, burying them up to the first knuckle. She steadily pushed until they were all the way in and began to work them backwards and forwards. 

Julie's orgasm started building again. It had been too long since she'd had both her holes fucked at the same time. Nirvana. 

"Anything I can leave in here?" asked Anna matter of factly. "I'd very much like to attend to your clitoris."

"Oh…god…y…e…s. Bottom draw…huuuurr," Julie managed to get out pointing with her finger. 

Anna removed her fingers from Julie's anal passage and opened the bottom draw. As she did so, she could hear Mikey's balls slapping against Julie. He was quickening the pace. She needed to hurry! 

She rummaged through an impressive collection of dildo's, vibrators, lubes and sexy underwear until she located what she was after. She snatched out the butt plug and added her spit to its tip, mixing in a few more globs just to be safe. It went in easily and stayed there leaving only the base exposed to the eye. 

Anna quickly got on her back and tunnelled her way backwards, underneath Julie, her head stopping in line with her full pussy. Once again, she began working her expert tongue around Julie's pearl. She could feel the heat between the two hungry individuals intensify. The smell of sex was evident in the air. 

Mikey thought he was about to pass out.

"I can't hold on, huh, huh, ohh, any longer, oh, Julie," he warned. 

"Give it me stud. Let me feel you ex…plo…de. Oh god, Oh god. That's it stud, harder, hard..huuuurrrrrrrr."

"YES, YES, YES!" they both cried out in stereo as if they'd been rehearsing for the moment, their climaxes simultaneously hitting, shaking them to the core of their being. 

Julie, Mikey and Anna collapsed on the bed in a heap, their sweaty bodies entwined. All very satisfied, all very tired. 

All three of them fell asleep with sweet, innocent smiles on their faces.

For Mikey, on the day he achieved the policeman's revenge, life was never better. 

* * * * *

If you enjoyed this story, check out how Mikey and Julie first met in "The Policeman's helmet." Thanks for reading and don't forget to vote. All comments and feedback much appreciated.



The Policemen's Balls



Dear reader. It takes hours to write a story like this so please send a comment to the linke below. Thanks.

I live in a small town one and a half hours drive from Orange in Central West New South Wales. I work in Orange once a week at a local educational centre teaching adults about video and digital photography. The pay is good but unfortunately I have spent quite a bit on speeding fines on the way back home of an evening. Not only are the fines a worry but also if I get busted once more all my points will be gone and I will lose my licence.

Sharon, my wife, and I had developed a plan to see if we could escape any more financial pain caused by my speeding. The plan was so simple it was ridiculous. We lived two houses from the corner of our block and in the next street was the local police station itself. After discussion with a few other locals we discovered that if the police cars were in the drive then the road was safe because the road was under the care of our local constabulary and not the Orange Local Area. So all Sharon had to do is check to see if the cars were there at about 10.30 at night and I would call on the mobile to see if was OK to floor it home. Well this worked really well and for about five weeks every time I called they were there. All I had to do is worry about the Kangaroos and bolt home.

One other thing you should know is that in our town we have no digital Mobile service until we get within 5 ks of Orange. We could use CDMA but I haven’t got around to it yet. Anyway I was tootling along to work when the phone beeped with a message. I pulled over to listen to the message to find out that my class for the night was cancelled. Apparently I was on strike with everyone else and not needed. Oh well I thought it’s nearly six o’clock I may as well just turn around and head home. So I did just that and swung my brand new Ford Falcon around and cautiously drove home. I didn’t bother calling Sharon because I figured that they were probably out and about at that time of the night. 

I got home at about 7.45pm as it took a bit longer with all the Roos at sunset. I drove past the cop shop and both cars were in the drive and lo and behold the place was shut up. I thought that was a bit strange as it was normally manned until midnight. I pulled into the drive and hopped out of the car. The thing about new cars is that they are very, very quiet and I was able to hop out of the car in near silence. I opened the back gate and wandered around to the back of the house. Our bedroom is right at the back of the house overlooking the town and as I walked past my eyes caught a glimpse through the curtain. Here was Sharon, totally naked, sitting on the edge of the bed with two police officers standing in front of her, in their uniforms, with their cocks jutting out of their pants. She was wanking one and then sucking the other as they slowly disrobed.

I was shocked to say the least and I stumbled backwards in amazement at my wives lascivious behaviour. Now Sharon and I are not new to group sex and we have enjoyed many a romp with other men and women in the past. This scene however was occurring without any prior consultation and it was that I didn’t know that upset me more than the fact that she was screwing two coppers on our bed. The window was slightly open and I could hear what they were saying through the fly screen.

“Oh I love to suck your cocks” Sharon said, “My pussy is wet, fuck it’s wet.” She rubbed her pussy and wiped the juice all over the older cops cock and then licked it off. 

The younger cop had a good amount of precum dripping from his cock and Sharon took great delight in licking it with her tongue and slowly engulfing his cock with her mouth. She had the older bloke by the balls and had his cock resting on her wrist. She was giving his sack a good squeeze and would alternate between the young bloke and the older. 

Sharon is 28 and has an excellent thin petite figure. Her breasts are not too big and not too small. They are very pert and firm with small nipples and areolas. She has a great flat tummy and some piercing in her belly button. Her pubes are trimmed lightly so that she can wear a G-String. She has long dark curly hair which is great to hold onto when we do it doggy style.

“Lick my pussy” Sharon said as she lay back on the mattress and spread her legs far and wide. The older cop jumped forward and buried his face into her pussy. The younger one went to her face and fed his cock to her which she devoured. From my angle I could see the cops tongue licking her swollen clit and copious juices flowed onto the sheets. I then had a brilliant idea. Video camera. I had all my gear in the boot of the car so all I had to do was sneak out the front and get it. But I was torn. I wanted to watch and I wanted to tape it but common sense prevailed and I ducked out the front and grabbed the video bag and tripod from the boot. 

When I returned the younger bloke was still pumping his fat cock into my wife’s mouth and the older cop was sliding his nightstick into her pussy as he licked at her clit. Her body was glowing red which was a sign that she was about to have, or had just had, an orgasm. 

“Suck my clit,” she cried and as he did so she had her first climax for the evening. Her back lifted off the sheets and she pulled the cock from her mouth and screamed in delight just as I turned on the camcorder and placed it against the flyscreen. I watched through the viewfinder as the young cop pumped his cock and set forth a stream of cum all over Sharon’s face. Sharon returned the cock to her mouth and sucked hard on it pulling the cum into her throat. I grabbed the tripod and clipped the camera onto it freeing my hands to go to work on my cock. 

“Oh fuck John I love your cum” she said smearing his load over her face with his rigid pole. So that was his name.

“You better stay hard like you always do. I want that cock in my arse later.” She said.

“I’ll cum fair up your arse later lady. Don’t you worry about that” John said, “Suck my balls you slut.” 

She gathered his balls in his hand and sucked on them as she pulled on his donger. I had dropped my pants to the ground and was stroking my cock when she rolled over and went into a doggie style position with her face towards the window. 

“Fuck me Bill” she said “Shove that fat cock of yours into my pussy.” Bill grabbed what was admittedly a well-hung fat dick and stood behind her. He spat on his hand and rubbed it on his cock and then slid his cock into her moist quim. The look on her face was one of intense pleasure and her eyes rolled back into her head as another orgasm racked her body. John had moved around in front of me so that now all I could see was his hairy arse. Not an attractive look let me tell you. 

“Lie down.” She said to John as Bill quickened the pace. Thank god for that I thought but then something remarkable happened. Sharon looked up at the window and stared straight at the video camera and myself looking through the fly screen. At first the look on her face was one of shock and horror as she realised that she was busted but she soon relaxed when she saw me wink at her through the window. This gave her the signal to get on with the job at hand and act the complete slut.

“Fuck me harder Bill, stick a finger in my arse” she yelled and then went to work on John’s still hard cock. She flicked her hair out of the way like a true porn star so that I could see her deep throat the red cock in front of her. I was almost ready to explode myself but I knew to save myself for the delights that would come when she was finished. 

She let the cock in her mouth flop out and she looked at the camera as she said “You want to fuck my arse John? Do you want to cum in my arse John?”

“Fuck yeah bitch,” said John “I’m gunna fuck you hard.”

“And I’m gunna cum in your mouth you slut, fucking bitch” said Bill as he pulled his slick prick out of her snatch. 

Sharon hopped up and got John to move over into the middle of the bed. She turned her back to him and crouched over him. This was her favourite position for anal as it allowed her or me to finger fuck her pussy. Bill stood on the bed waiting for his BJ as Sharon slid down onto John’s slick cock. I was fit to explode. Sharon looked at me and smiled and licked her lips as Bill placed his cock at her lips. The view was tremendous. Here was my wife with her legs spread wide with a cock in her arse and another one being fed into her mouth. Her gaping pussy was dripping cunt juice and all I wanted to do was fuck it hard. She rubbed her clit and looking at me again slid 3 fingers into her cunt.

“Fuck my cunt Bill,” she demanded “and then cum in my mouth.”

Bill moved down to her cunt and after getting the right angle slid his mammoth cock in. 

“Oh fuck yeah,” cried Sharon as she came yet again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck”

That was just about enough for Bill who after only a few hard pumps pulled his cock out and came on her pussy and as he repeated ‘fucking slut, fucking slut’ he moved his cock up to her mouth and shot the remainder of his load onto her face and in her mouth. The extra slipperiness from the semen on her cunt added to the sensation for John and he pushed home into her arse and emptied half his load into her bowels and pulled out splashing her pussy with more cum.

The two fellas laid there stroking there withering cocks as Sharon looked at me fingering her arse and cunt smearing the cum and cunt juice over her pubes. 

The two cops climbed silently off the bed and began to pull their clothes back on when I realised that they would see my car when they left. I left the camera running and pulling my pants up around my hardened cock I ran to the car and pulled it out of the drive and went around the block and watched the two cops walk back around the corner to the cop shop. I waited until they were out of view and then bolted back to the house. I opened the door and began stripping as I ran down the hallway to the bedroom.

Sharon was lying there with four fingers in her sopping cunt and pulling on her nipples. I went straight to her face and fed my cock into her mouth. She instantly sucked my cock down and conscious of the camera outside we both played to it. 

“Suck my cock you horny slut,” I said pulling on her spare nipple. “Shove your hand into your cunt.” I demanded.

“Yeah that’s it lick my knob, use that tongue” I said “ I’m gunna cum all over your fucking face”

“Let me fuck you first” she said, “Let me fuck your cock”

With that she hopped up and I lay on the bed with my legs facing the outside camera and my cock pointing straight up into the air. Sharon climbed up and squatted down onto my prick engulfing it in her warm moist quim. Looking up at her fantastic body and beautiful face I knew that I would soon be exploding inside her. She flicked her knees forward so that she could rub her clit and I could just reach her tits. With her right hand on her clit she moved her left hand around to massage my balls. That was the trigger that sent us both exploding. I shot an absolutely huge load into her pussy as she threw herself forward onto me bucking and moaning as she came. 

We slowed down our shagging and Sharon moved onto my side. My cock was still semi hard and Sharon held it as she looked at me and said “So you got the message about no work tonight then”

“When did you know about that?” I asked.

“Know” she said smiling “I organised it ya drongo”

“What?”

“I got Julie at your office to call you” she said sliding down to my prick “I told her it was for a surprise anniversary dinner”

“It’s not our anniversary”

“She doesn’t know that” she said licking my cock, “anyway I couldn’t keep shagging those boys for too much longer without you knowing”

“Good thing I have them on tape” I said, “next time you will have to bring the morning shift as well.”

And with that comment we sucked and fucked for a while longer and later we watched one of the horniest videos ever made.



The Polish Dragoon



Her name was Yelena Podrova and she lived alone. The first snows had come early that year. She knew this would mean suffering. The villagers were unprepared for such an early onset of winter. The late crop of beets was ruined by frost and animal fodder was in short supply. It was going to be a ‘seven-coat winter’. Of course the war made things worse. Many of the men had gone to the army. Some came back, blind or crippled. It was said in the village that the French had entered Moscow. How could such a thing be possible? It must be a lie and besides, there were more pressing problems, like to how to eat this coming winter. 

Her husband had gone for a soldier. She knew he was dead, had felt it the day of the great battle at Borodino. They had been married less than a year. She was already dressed in black when one of the ‘lucky’ ones had confirmed Fyodr’s death. He had meant it kindly, she knew, when he said Fyodr had died instantly, shot through the heart, but she was a true Russian and demanded the truth. She had listened impassively as the man wept and begged her not to make him tell. She knew there as something more and understood he was trying to protect her. In the end she let it lie and went away unsatisfied. Since that day she had lived the life of a Russian widow, kept herself to herself and seldom went into the village. She tended her garden, saw to her few pigs and chickens and went to Church on all the feast days. 

She was still young. One man had come courting after a decent interval but she had refused him gently. Now she waited. What she was waiting for she truly did not know. There was only this feeling. It was said in the village that she had the ‘gift’. Sometimes she knew what was going to happen. It was never clear. She couldn’t tell fortunes; there were just some things she knew, intensely, viscerally. Her life was marked by a series of such signposts. She had known she would marry Fyodr; had known, too, that she would never see him again the day he left for the war. She had mourned him in her heart from that moment. There had been a letter, written by one of the professional letter-writers. She had taken it into the village and paid to hear it read. It was just like Fyodr, full of hearty cheer and optimism. She smiled at that. 

Now it was nearly Christmas and the winter had set in hard. Her hut at the edge of the wood was sheltered from the worst of the weather but still there was a foot and more of snow on the roof and she had to dig her path clear every day. She made her way down to the river each morning and broke the ice to draw water. She was worried about her pigs and thought she might have to slaughter most of them. Perhaps she could trade some of the meat for salt to preserve the rest. She might even get some flour. Death would come to the village this winter, she knew. Sometimes she thought she could see his dark shadow hovering but it was never there when she looked directly. It was something glimpsed obliquely, from the corner of the eye: a feeling, perhaps, more than a presence, but she knew it was there nonetheless. 

It was late afternoon and almost dark when she saw the body on the track. Even though she was some distance away she knew it wasn’t yet dead. She broke into a run, her feet slipping on the icy compacted snow of the pathway. It was a young man but he looked old as the prophets. His face was grey except for the tip of his nose, which was white with the telltale sign of frostbite. He was very thin and his blue cyanosed lips were drawn back to reveal strong white teeth though his gums were raw and bleeding. She stooped and pulled his wasted frame upright. She was strong, used to hard work, and the man’s emaciated state made it easy for her to lift him onto her back and carry him back to her hut. 

Once inside she stripped off the tattered uniform he wore and wrapped him in three of her best blankets. They had been a wedding gift. She banked the fire and lay him down beside the hearth. Several of his toes were blackened by frostbite and she knew enough to know that she must amputate them if he was not to rot away with gangrene. She took her sharpest knife and performed the crude surgery quickly, efficiently. She cauterised the wounds with a heated steel and bandaged him with strips of clean linen torn from an old shirt of Fyodr’s. She poured herself some tea from the simmering samovar and sat down to wait. A sense of peace came over her. Now she knew what she had been waiting for. 

The man was murmuring in his sleep. She didn’t recognise the language but she knew quite clearly that he was calling for his mother. She nodded to herself. That was as it should be. In extremity a man would always turn back to the one who bore him. It was as if they sought the safety of the womb. She understood this, she, whose womb was barren. 

Time passed. She grew drowsy in the warmth of the hut and forced herself to stir. She heated some soup and trickled some of the warm, thick liquid into the man’s mouth, his head cushioned on her ample bosom. He coughed and spluttered and his eyes flew open in alarm as consciousness suddenly invaded the deep cocoon he had woven for himself when he lay down to die. His voice was harsh and guttural as though rusty from lack of use. She didn’t understand the words but she knew he asked a question and could guess its meaning. “Hush, hush now, you’re safe here. Everything’s all right, everything’s all right.” She crooned to him and made soothing noises. He seemed to understand for she felt his tension seep away and he gave her a weak smile before his eyes closed once more in sleep.

When morning came he was stronger and in pain from his ruined feet. His was voice was high and shrill as he pointed at the bandages. She mimed her surgery, explaining as best she could with exaggerated gestures the threat of gangrene. He looked puzzled until she held her nose and then he nodded grimly. He had obviously seen the effects of untreated frostbite. She helped him up and the blankets fell away. He was confused, embarrassed by his nakedness, not wanting her to see his shrivelled manhood. She tutted, a universal sound of dismissal, but handed him the blankets to cover himself and he managed a shy smile. She steered him to her low bed and tucked him in. Again she fed him soup, not too much, for his shrunken stomach couldn’t cope. She smiled as his head started to droop and he subsided back into sleep. 

She gathered up the tattered clothing, staring hard at the tarnished buttons with their two-headed eagle. She knew, then, what he was. The long boots, soles worn through and bound with rags, the ragged dolman. She muttered to herself and crossed herself sketchily. This was the hated enemy, the ravisher of Mother Russia. Confusion seized her. She had known this all along; known it from the moment she saw him lying on the path. Why did she now feign surprise? She had seen enough of soldiers in recent times to know, too, that he was a cavalryman and stomach lurched at the knowledge. She wondered why.

Now her very being was quivering, like a hound at the leash. Here was the enemy, perhaps the very one who had taken her man. She could kill him easily – he was weak and could barely stay awake long enough to feed. Yet something else held her back. Here was a young man, vulnerable, sick, far from home. Some other instinct cried out within her to nurse and nurture. How could this done with hate? 

She muttered to herself as she went about her chores. She heated water and bathed him. His eyes were wide with alarm as she stripped him of his blankets yet again but she carried on, her face impassive until he was clean to her satisfaction. He smiled his thanks when once more restored to decency and nodded his head emphatically. “Waldemar,” he said, indicating himself. “Waldemar Jasinski. Polski, Polski.” She nodded, but did not offer her own name. He tapped himself again, repeating “Waldemar” and looked at her so quizzically she felt she had to reply. “Podrova,” she said. “Podrova Yelena,” stating her patronymic first in Russian fashion. He smiled. “Yelena,” he said and she nodded briefly. “Da.” 

She founded it both harder and easier now he had a name. Harder to hate, easier to nurse. Her patient was a person and, as the days passed and he grew stronger, they would sit together, puzzling out their languages until they could communicate after a fashion. They grew easy in each other’s company. She helped learn to walk again without the balance of his toes and gave him a pair of Fyodr’s old boots, stuffed with straw to help them fit. One day he seized her hand and covered it with kisses. “Thank you, Thank you.” There was more that she could not follow but sensed the gist. She smiled and, encouraged, he tried to hug her but she slid away. “Niet!” she said and he looked shamefaced. “Yelena,” he said and she heard the pleading in his voice. She turned away and hid within herself behind a frown. 

The day came when she must slaughter the pigs. He took the long knife from her and went about the bloody business with practised ease. He was smiling at her but she saw only the sweep of his arm and the heard the meaty thud of the blade. In a flash, she saw the truth of her husband’s death. She knew, then, what she had to do. 

He was strong, now. She thought perhaps that she should have killed him while she had the chance but something in her shied away from that. It was not fitting. She must use other means. Her seduction was easy, effortless. She simply locked her mind away and let her body remember. Afterwards his eyes were soft and shining with love. She slipped the paring knife between his ribs. “For Fyodr, “ she said, and he seemed to nod his understanding as his head fell forward onto her breast.



The Polish Squeeze



I was eighteen. I thought I knew what life was all about; thinking back, I was dreadfully earnest. I'd been watching the news with my parents for years, and seeing the fall of the Berlin wall and the breakup of the USSR as slowly developing trends, I felt like I was ready to school Kissinger in foreign relations. When the other kids were out making the mistakes you're supposed to make as a teenager, I'd been at home reading the newspapers and magazines, and concentrating on my schoolwork. Having got a place at a decent British university to read Social and Political Science, I was certain that a blazing career lay ahead of me as an academic; or perhaps in the Foreign Office; or the BBC's man in Moscow.

However, at that time the done thing in the UK was to take a year out between school and university -- a gap year. A chance to broaden your mind, see the world, travel, explore, and ideally boost your CV with some voluntary work. I set my sights on Poland, and relatively easily got a job as English language assistant at the prestigious Gdansk University -- they were desperate to fill the sudden need for teachers and I needed a job. It came with an apartment in a Leninist concrete tower block and a salary that would be laughable back home but that was more than sufficient to keep me going out there.

Of course, that's not what I told my parents. I preyed mercilessly on their fear of sending away their firstborn across the Iron Curtain, and although they weren't well off I persuaded my father to talk to his bank manager and get me a stack of 80 hundred dollar bills. No travelers' checks, no ATM cards in those days, and no sterling either. I'd seen it on the news -- Russians, East Germans, Poles, all repeating the only English phrase they knew, their mantra: "We want green money".

$8000 was twenty times the wage I would be making in my entire year at the university. Sure, I wanted to see gritty post-Soviet life, but I didn't want to live it. I wanted to go to a place where a decent sum in hard currency looked like a small fortune. I wanted to drink at the glitziest nightspots, eat where the new oligarchs ate, never take a bus again. And most of all, after so many cold dark nights spurring myself on in my schoolwork with the promise of a better future, I wanted to get laid.

Of course when I got there Gdansk was not what I had imagined. Partially, it was me: I had not expected to feel so scared, so homesick. I arrived before the university term started so the campus was echoing and empty, but when a matronly professor called Joanna started to mother me -- making sure I was getting three square meals a day and doing my laundry on time, bringing me whatever she'd been baking, asking after me in an almost imperceptibly condescending tone -- I was more enraged with myself than with her. 

She knew what I was unable to admit even to myself. For all my unearned money, all my bluster and all my big dreams, I was a little lost boy trying to play at being a man.

I had no idea what to do with myself. There were no students there to teach yet, and although I had no work to do I would spend hours each day hiding in my tiny faculty office poring over a Polish newspaper that I was far from understanding, or leafing through the class plans that I was to assist with. When Joanna popped her head in I would give her a big smile and tell her how busy I was, how much there was to stay on top of, but she must have seen the loneliness in my eyes.

When I wasn't in my office I would head out onto the streets. It was easy to change money on the black market and to haggle with traders selling off old communist military uniforms and badges, but I had no idea how to find the glamorous highlife that I was yearning for. I went to an expensive restaurant once, no doubt the happy watering hole of the elite, but it was almost empty. I sat at a table alone as ten waiters fawned on me. The food was dull and the service poor, but I left a hefty tip as if to prove my right to be there. What was twenty dollars? I honestly had no idea -- a tiny fraction of the block of cash that I'd brought to have fun with, or more than I was making in a week? I'd never had a real, paying job before. 

I left the restaurant and was back out on the street, feeling worse than before. Beautiful girls walked by, but they never returned my shy smiles. Scared of crime, I went to bed early rather than brave the night, but I could never sleep.

It all came to a head one day, about two weeks after I'd arrived. Joanna came into my office while I was pretending to study and made what was clearly a carefully-rehearsed speech: would I like to join her and her family at their dacha out of town over the coming weekend? They would be swimming in the lake, walking in the woodland, and making a traditional kind of barbecue. Her son was only a little older than me.

I have no doubt that the offer was genuine; I would have been more than welcome to go along, and get a chance to see real Polish life with just about the only person in the country who I knew. However, I could see the pity behind the invitation. This was to be an act of charity to the lonely little boy who couldn't find a way of amusing himself. When I replied that I was sorry, but I already had plans for the weekend that I simply couldn't get out of, she accepted with good grace veiling surprise and a good measure of disbelief.

I muttered the first thing that came into my head -- I said that I had agreed to go with some friends to some popular thermal baths at a hot spring about 25 minutes out of town, a place called Ciechocinek. I'd read all about it in my guidebook, and it was clearly one of the few popular things to do that I would feel safe discussing with Joanna. Families went there for fun, old people to cure the aches in their joints, and young people to soak and hang out. Fine.

Only I had no friends and there was no trip planned, so I was back on my own.

Saturday came, and the weekend loomed ahead. I couldn't go into the faculty, and my only other activities were spending endless hours walking the streets dreaming of unlikely fantasies, or staying in my drab apartment staring at the walls.

Fuck it, I thought, I might as well go to the hot springs anyway. It couldn't be worse than this, and I knew I had to get out more. In fact, it struck me that a thermal bath might be a place you could strike up a conversation with someone else -- even, potentially, a girl, although I was not quite sure how to go about that. If not, I could just lie there in the hot mineral water and nobody would think it odd. I was way too self conscious about what other people might think I was doing.

I got up, already energized with my new purpose. I grabbed some swimming trunks and a towel, plus flip flops and my cheap folding camera. That was everything, apart from cash.

I was hiding my money in seven piles of a thousand dollars each under my mattress, and one fatter and altogether more colorful pile of złoty. Nobody else ever went into my place, and the locks on the front door were sturdy, so I felt safer leaving the money there than trying my luck with a post-Soviet bank. I grabbed a handful that might have been a month's salary, and reckoned by the heft that I wouldn't end up falling short. There were still a lot of złoty in the pile.

Ciechocinek was only a few miles outside of town, and the public transport system that the communists had installed was still running. I could have got there making just one change, for a ticket that cost the equivalent of well under a penny. However, as I got into a taxi I convinced myself that this was about my new high roller lifestyle; in fact, I had no idea how the bus system worked.

Once I got to the baths, I almost panicked on seeing a whole board of different entrance tickets at different prices. Bolstering myself with my self-image as a rich man, I asked for the most expensive; it was still cheap enough that the elderly attendant gave me a surly look at having to make change from my smallest banknote. I later realized that it was a full month family pass. 

The attendant gave me a carefully counted stack of bills and coins, and a plastic pass. Lost, I wandered until I found the changing rooms, where another man took my pass and gave me a numbered key on a thick rubber band. 

I slipped into a cubicle and hurriedly changed into my speedos. I hadn't noticed anyone wearing sandals, so I put everything into the bag and locked it away in the locker with my key's number on it. Feeling utterly self-conscious and naked, I walked out, barefoot in my swimming gear, and worked the rubber band over my wrist like a watch. I wasn't fat but I certainly wasn't tanned or muscular, and I felt horribly uncomfortable with so much of me exposed, and particularly with the uneven bulge of my genitals behind the lycra. I headed in the direction the steam was coming from.

Looking back, the baths were beautiful; old Stalinist magnificence, a temple to the proletariat with high concrete arches in the ceiling and tiles painted with murals of factories belching smoke as they drove the union onward into the future, and laborers in fields of golden wheat. At the time, I was basking in the wisdom of my foresight, having followed the news of the collapse that, of course, everyone had seen coming. I didn't see the skill of those painters in the past, I saw their foolishness at believing the lie that I had seen through.

All around were happy locals chatting, splashing each other, and lying back in the hot, mineralized water of the springs. It doesn't come out of the ground clear, but rather milky with the salts dissolved in it, and I felt so naked in the swimsuit that I wanted to get neck deep as fast as possible. At first the water felt scalding hot, but I pushed on in as fast as I could bear. As the heat touched my shoulders and back I was sure that I was being horribly burned, but I had seen everyone else acting as though it was bathwater so I winced and worked at holding back the scream that was bubbling up within me. 

Once the initial shock was over, the thermal bath really was a wonderful experience; it felt good, just not so hot as to be unbearable; a challenge that my body first struggled against but then let in. Once I could allow the water to totally envelop me, I found myself relaxing into it, only my head above the milk-white surface, steam roiling around my ears.

The moment of peace did not last: I suddenly realized that there was laughter all around. Worst of all, people were laughing at me. Indeed, I must have looked a picture as I was writhing in the heat-shock. In particular, two very large, aging men seemed to be having a whale of time. One of them, a beast of a man with massively thick grey hair all over his chest, shouted something to me in Polish. I replied with my one phrase: "I'm sorry, I don't understand; do you speak English?"

His accent was strong, but he didn't miss a beat, shouting back at me from across the baths. "Ah, you are American, very good!"

"Well, British actually."

"Ah, English, English, even better! Welcome to Poland! Do you like our beautiful baths at Ciechocinek?"

He was surging over towards me though the chest-deep water, but his deep voice, laden with bonhomie, still boomed out and filled the echoing hall: "It's very hot! Very hot! And outside, very cold!" He mimed shivering, although it was actually still late summer. "So, here, only here we are filled with warmth. At home, the heat does not work, there is no more gas from Russia, so like here we must use good Polish heat." By now he was right in front of me, and took the chance to make a friendly swipe at my shoulder with a great bear-like arm. "At home, we get warm with vodka!"

Once again he descended into wreaths of laughter at his joke, making waves that ran the length of the pool. Some other bathers were relaxing with their eyes shut or talking amongst themselves, but at least half were watching the huge comedian, smiles and laughs on their faces too. I was wearing a pained smile. At least I didn't seem to be the butt of his jokes.

"Ah, you don't care." He made a comical mime of sadness that I wasn't entering into the spirit of it. "But you are bored! You did not come to Ciechocinek to talk to me! You came here to talk to pretty girls!" With that he gave a massive pantomime of a conspiratorial wink.

I made noises and gestures to indicate that he was absolutely wrong, mainly because really that was exactly why I was there. The big man was having none of it. He pointed across the water at two stunningly beautiful girls who were watching his show with clear enjoyment. They looked a couple of years older than me, and even up to their necks in hot spring water they had a kind of cool, unflappable elegance that would leave me tongue-tied. They were way out of my league. I must have looked mortified.

However, the bear-man seemed to think this was all great fun. "What do you think? They're good for you, OK?" I stammered something meaningless, but the man was in his stride. Raising his voice even further, he bellowed something at them in rapid-fire polish that I didn't stand a hope of understanding, but I recognized the last word: English.

Taking all the time in the world, the girls looked at each other and smiled, whispered between themselves, and one of them replied to him in English: "Yes." 

The big man was overjoyed. "Girls, I want to you to meet my dear friend from England..."

He looked to me and I prompted him: "James."

"James! And James, you must meet my good friends from Poland..."

The girl who had spoken before filled in their names. "I am Izabela and this is Magdalena." Even carrying on a shouted conversation with this jovial giant, she seemed effortlessly in control of herself.

The man went on, "Me, I am leaving now with my cousin, we must get home." He repeated his caricature of sadness. "But James, I am sure that Izabela and Magdalena will be very happy to talk to their new English friend!" He beckoned them over and shouted some more fast Polish, as he and his friend surged powerfully to the edge of the pool and heaved their heavy bodies out towards the changing rooms.

I still had little idea what was going on; as I saw the girls climbing up the steps that made the edge of the pool, I thought that they must be leaving too.

In any case, I was transfixed. As they languorously lifted themselves out of the milky water, they slowly revealed the bodies of goddesses. They didn't look like the girls I'd seen around and fancied, they looked like models -- another species, something I'd only ever seen in magazines and on the TV. There was something unutterably effortless about their flat stomachs, their hips and their waists that made their curves seem like a law of nature. They were perfect simply because they could be no other way. The water glistened off their white skin as they strolled along the side of the pool, making them seem more three-dimensional than the rest of the world. I was mesmerized. 

Izabela glanced across and caught me gawping. As I stared frozen in shame, she gave a sidelong glance and the thinnest of smiles. She wasn't angry and certainly wasn't in the least bit surprised. She knew the effect that she had on men, and neither relished it nor resented it, almost as if she took my lust merely as a feature of the world around her. She looked back to Magdalena as they strolled on and said something to her almost in a whisper, her hand unconsciously drawing around her friend's hip and pulling the two of them a few inches closer as she shared her secret. The movement was subtle, but drenched in an exotic intimacy that left me reeling. These two girls, barely older than me, were as utterly comfortable with each others' bodies as I was uncomfortable with my own.

Taking their time, they strolled around the pool and slid into it a few yards from me. Barely acknowledging my presence they drifted through the deep water until they were right in from of where I was sitting on one of the underwater steps. Only then did they both look into my eyes and fix me with welcoming but slightly condescending smiles. Izabela did all the talking. Her English was very good.

"You looked... uncomfortable getting into the water."

I muttered shy agreement. She went on in a philosophical tone, as though she was talking to herself. "Desperate. You were fixated. We could see how your body screamed at you with one voice to get out of the heat." She paused before she went on, a pause that felt precisely timed like a rest in a bar of music. "We all wear our masks all the time. We hide ourselves from others. We try to seem so cool and in control, we lie that our minds are masters of our bodies." She shared a smile with Magdalena. "It is so... refreshing to see a man in his primal state... His face showing every feeling that is within him, unmasked, unfiltered."

This was not the kind of conversation I was prepared for. I wanted to talk about trivialities, and I felt totally lost. Izabela seemed not to notice my confusion, and went on, still in the same airy tone. "You conquered it. You felt that need to escape, welling up from the animal in you but you overcame your instincts. Are you a man who is able to dominate your physical world?"

I had thought conversations started with questions like "Where are you from?" I had no idea how to answer that strange compliment and as a repressed teenager I was incapable of carrying on in the same vein. I muttered some kind of "Well, you know, I just, I'm just a," and ran out of steam. I could feel how horribly flat my answer had fallen, and I felt ashamed to have been so unable to follow this beautiful girl's lead. I was still in shock that she was talking to me at all.

Izabela picked up perfectly on my discomfort, and shifted the topic of conversation back onto more familiar territory. Throughout it all, the two girls rested almost floating in the water in front of me, feet on the floor of the pool and just their heads and the tops of their shoulders showing above the milky surface. Magdalena smiled serenely with a look of polite interest on her face, but only Izabela talked. She started asking me about myself.

She seemed so impressed and so fascinated in every little detail I told her that my confidence quickly rose. I almost heard an inner voice looking down on me talking to these two goddesses and telling me "Keep it up, you're doing great, champ." I learned almost nothing about the girls as they volunteered little and I was so intoxicated with their interest that I barely asked them anything about themselves.

I began to feel that my fantasies about this gap year -- up to then so utterly dashed against the rocks of reality -- were something real. OK, it had taken me a couple of weeks to get my feet under the table, but here were the first two girls I'd properly met, they were captivatingly beautiful, and they were paying rapt attention to me. Maybe I really was the exotic European playboy that I'd been trying to convince myself I was.

Everything I told them about myself seemed to interest them more. They loved that I was spending a whole year in Poland rather than just visiting. They were as impressed as I'd hoped when I explained that I was a professor at the university -- I'd upgraded myself from mere language assistant without a thought. I was positively glowing when I talked to them about my relatively spacious apartment in the huge Stalin era tower block, as that was one of the city's more prestigious addresses. It might have been a horribly ugly monstrosity, but it had been built for the Party elite and the size and quality of the units there went way beyond what the people's republic had actually made for its people.

Izabela wanted to point out the high points of the cathedral-like building that housed the hot springs; the girls shared another brief, knowing look and glided off through the warm water. They didn't look back, daring me to follow them. I felt ungainly as I struggled to keep pace with them through the chest-deep mineralized water; I couldn't see their bodies below the surface, but somehow they slid through it like swans, while all my exertions could barely keep pace with them.




The Politeness of Strangers



Beguilingly and bewilderingly polite. This was my first impression.

A soft-spoken and courteous person by nature, his initial enquiries about me were very cordial, and carefully structured. In addition to the fact that English was not his mother tongue, which i could tell was restricting him slightly in how he expressed himself, he was obviously also uncomfortable in expressing his desires verbally. And, apparently, unused to dirty talk or profanity.

Or so I thought.

Maybe it's a xenophobic trait within me that should be stamped out like a burning scrap of paper. But the northern European accent that colored his English so prettily invoked a very polite and well-mannered attitude and impression... which was hard to gel with the disgracefully depraved way in which I like to cavort.

Suffice it to say that I presume way too much.

For this particular blind date, pictures had been exchanged. By the handful. We'd recognized each other immediately from aforementioned photos, through the steam of a Saquella espresso machine in the corner of a seductively warm cafe on a blustery cold and wintry evening. The lights outside along the sea front danced brightly, giving a false impression of cheeriness, but there was nothing cheery about the biting wind outside. We had, however, done our best to banish any last vestige of cold by both ordering wine -- red for him, mulled with a stick of fresh cinnamon for me. We looked at each other, and smiled... and I was wondering how to broach a subject somewhat less conventional than the severity of the weather, when he took my hand and placed it on his thigh.

No words really necessary after all. Especially not when i ran my finger deliberately slowly over the growing bulge on his inner thigh.

(I'm wet just at the thought of it, as I write.)

He leaned into me and whispered politely "I need to fuck you, the sooner, the better. Can we go?"

The next few minutes were a blur of giggles, and bill-paying, and urgency, and hands clasped tightly, and half-walking, half-running to his place, only a short block away from the cafe. Formalities that had seemed to worryingly important had all but been dispensed with as we collapsed through the door, and into each other.

At first, we hugged and held each other very close, our hands roaming, and divesting each other of our accumulated layer of clothing. Once we were suitably scantily attired, he paused, and took my chin in his hand, lifting my face to kiss him.

Dear god, but he could kiss. My knees nearly buckled.

The passion intensified, and not breaking from the kiss, he managed to remove my remaining articles of clothing. Lacy panties in a puddle on the floor, where they had fallen after he'd given them a sharp, commanding tug. Matching lacy bra strewn halfway across the room, where I'd find it much, much later, decorating a very good reproduction of Guernica. All i wore were knee high socks, and tall, black, leather cowboy boots, which despite their heel, brought me not very close to his height at all (he had to bend to kiss me, but he didn't seem to mind).

So i was naked but for the boots, which put me in mind of another occasion, and he was barefoot, in jeans, with a button fly with which I'd been struggling until he began kissing me. Once he'd started the kiss, it distracted me enough that I'd kind of concentrated just on that.

His giant-like gentleness was short-lived. He finally broke from my lips, and somehow twirled me in a circle until i was held tight with his arm, but bent over it, with my side against his muscular but softly fuzzy stomach. He almost lifted me in order to get me into position, nudging my arms up and onto the desk, where i rested, facing down, leaning on my forearms and elbows. He slowly stroked my back with his hands; long, relaxing strokes that discombobulated me so much that when he landed me a massive blow to the buttocks, i jumped.

"Stay still," he commanded, still very polite, but unarguably firm.

I do what I'm told, me.

I felt the warmth of his body as he leaned over me, his cock nudging against my ass, as his hands explored me. He left one hand stroking my body, holding it inches from the surface of the desk, and used the other to draw an imaginary line from my cunt to the end of my ass. All the way, in one slick and slippery stroke.

I gasped. His fingers were strong and probing, and still cold from the inclement weather outside. I wasn't complaining.

Slowly, deliberately slowly, he started to stimulate me, his whole hand probing, touching, encircling and teasing. This was a touch unlike any I'd previously encountered, and the heady feeling with which it left me had me reeling. In a good way. In moments he brought me to a surprisingly thundersome climax, leaving me wet, spent and thoroughly slippery. As i leaned on my forearms and panted to get my breath back, I heard the crackle of a foil wrapper, then the unzipping of his jeans, followed by the soft sound of denim hitting carpet.

Then politeness left the building once and for all. He grabbed me, hard, but not ungently, spread my legs apart, and held me still with my face on the table; then swiftly, smoothly entered me with a single thrust and no fumbling. His cock felt like solid steel as it entered me and he made sure i could feel how hard he wanted, or needed to fuck me.

"Spread those legs more, baby... yes!" As he pumped.. and pumped.

He grunted, I moaned.

He sweated, drops of moisture falling onto my back. One hand twisted in my hair, pulling it but not yanking my head. Thrust. Fuck. Pump. Push.

"God yes. Yes. Fuck me. Fill me. Yes."

Harder. Faster. Harder still... faster still...

He grunted his intentions like a mantra.

"Fuck that cunt, that soft sweet cunt, going to fuck it harder than it's ever been fucked. Fill your cunt. Yes? You want that, baby? Yes?"

In my head, I drifted away on a cloud of spaced-out bliss; the physical not matching the mental. I was in full physical submission, restrained by his strong hand, and his deliberately thrusting body; yet my body gladly accepted, even welcomed the hard furious fucking it was receiving.

Somewhere far away, I heard myself wail... softly at first but growing gradually stronger and more shrill. I could sense the pink light of orgasm approaching as he kept pounding my g-spot until i gushed, my mind afloat in ecstasy, my cunt awash with girlie-cum. It didn't stop him. Rather, it increased the intensity of his fucking and the depth of each push into me. I felt my body slide forward across the desk, skater-like on a film of sweat. Astonishing really, since such a short while ago I'd felt so cold i couldn't stand still, and now i was perspiring.

Since i was now sated, regrouping after the orgasm, i could concentrate on his pleasure more fully. I pushed back onto him, using my sweat-aided leverage. I tried to do my kegels as he fucked me, only succeeding some of the time since he was by now pumping hard and very fast.

"Yessss!" With a shout, he came, holding me tightly by the shoulder and hair.

Not quite so polite, after all. But a pleasure to know.



The Political Prisoner and the Sympathetic...



The Political Prisoner and the Sympathetic Russian Guard

Sergei was chained naked to the bed. He awaited his tormentor with stoic resignation.

Natasia Primakova was the most beautiful of the guards at the secret prison. Her long black hair flowed down her back like the Don flowed through the Ukraine. Neither her leather gloves nor her long black coat could hide her sensational body.

Even though she loved Sergei, she was going to torture him.

Damn this war, she thought; and damn his stubborn adherence to his ideals of personal freedom and justice! They had loved each other since long before the war, but cruel fate had tossed them on opposite sides of the rebellion. An even crueler twist of fate had sent Sergei on that hopeless mission and led him to be captured—only to be sent to the same prison where his true love was the guard.

"I hoped it would be you," Sergei said when Natasia entered his cell.

"I am to beat you until you tell me where the other rebels are hiding."

"I know."

"But you won't tell me," she asked. "Will you?"

"No, my love."

Natasia nodded. She slapped the cot with her whip—a vicious leather cat-o-nine-tails.

"Then I must hurt you."

Natasia quicky untied Sergei's legs and flipped him onto his stomach.

"Get on your knees," she commanded. "Please."

Sergei pulled his knees up so that he was on all fours. Then Natasia started in with the whipping.

She sliced the straps across his back, leaving a satisfying red mark. Sergei gasped at the sting. Natasia attacked his back again, delivering three more blows in a criss-cross pattern. The blow was hard enough to elicit a yelp from Sergei. Natasia smiled and took off her coat.

Underneath, she wore her service blouse and an olive green skirt. She undid the top two buttons of her blouse, then savagely struck Sergei's back with the whip.

Sergei's knees gave way and he collapsed onto the bed, whimpering.

"Did that hurt, Sergei?" Natasia taunted. "But I'm just getting started. You aren't going to give in already, are you?"

"No, my love. I'll never betray my comrades."

"At least not until I get to the good parts." Natasia grabbed Sergei's hips and dragged him back into position.

"Now," she said, "I think we shall work on your ass for a while. Hold it nice and high for me. That's it."

Natasia began an unrelenting barrage on Sergei's buttocks; first one cheek, then the other, then both at once; now fast and hard, now slow and soft. Once Sergei started whimpering and softly sobbing, Natasia knew she had him.

Natasia stopped her assault and softly stroked Sergei's burning ass. She leaned over and whispered into his ear.

"Sergei, darling. You must tell me where the rebels are hiding. Do not make me beat you again." Sergei shook his head. "Love, let me stop this." Natasia reached between Sergei's legs and wrapped her fingers around his cock. She slowly stroked him until he stiffened.

"Tell me, Sergei, or I shall find more sensitive places to whip you."

"I'll never betray the revolution!" Sergei shouted with as much drama as he could muster. "I'll never rest until we are all free from…Ahh!" Sergei gasped suddenly as Natasia ran her gloved fingers over the head of his prick. She laughed as the shock of pleasure streaked across his face.

"Okay, then," she said as she jerked his feet out from under him, landing him flat on the cot. "More whipping it will be."

This time, Natasia whipped his entire body, from his neck to his back to his ass, and now even the backs of his legs. Sergei writhed around, trying to dodge the blows, but it was no use. Natasia yanked off her skirt and straddled his back, holding him down while she rained a storm of blows onto his ass and legs.

At last, she stopped and stroked his red and sore cheeks.

"Where are the rebels?" she asked.

"Never…betray…them," he stammered.

"Perhaps you won't. This may be hopeless, but it's the only way I can think to save your life, darling. Unless…"

Natasia hopped off Sergei and tore her blouse off, leaving her dressed only in a black lace bra, panties and stockings supported by a matching garter belt. She reached into her bag and removed her personal vibrator—she often felt the need to relieve herself several times during these long sessions. Now, however, she had something else in mind.

"On your knees again, prisoner," she commanded, giving his sore ass a swat with her hand when he didn't comply fast enough.

Natasia squirted some of her lube into his anus.

"What are you doing?" Sergei asked, his voice quivering with panic.

"Silence," was Natasia's only answer.

She worked her finger into her lover/prisoner's ass and slowly wriggled it around for a moment. Then she pulled it out and replaced it with the vibrator.

Natasia watched Sergei's cock twitch beneath him. She gave his balls a playful slap. Once she had the vibrator nice and deep inside him, she switched it on. Sergei went wild, bucking his hips and groaning with pleasure. Natasia laughed softly. She reached down and stroked his dick. Sergei moaned again.

Natasia could feel Sergei's balls tighten and his dick start to pulse in her hand. A tiny drop of fluid oozed from the tip of his cock and dropped to the bed—Sergei was about to come.

Quickly Natasia took her hand from her prisoner's dick and shut off the vibrator. The sudden lack of sensation sent a jolt of pain through him. He squeezed the vibrator quickly just to feel it.

"More?" she asked. "Or are you ready to give up?"

Sergei's mind was spinning. More beating? More torment? More of his love's hand on his cock? He didn't answer. She switched on the vibrator again and pulled it slowly out of his ass before jamming it back in hard. She fucked him gently with it and he fucked it back.

Natasia leaned over her victim and whispered into his ear: "Tell me something and I will touch or cock. Tell me anything useful."

Sergei's lips quivered but he was silent. Natasia pulled the glove off her right hand with her teeth. Sergei grunted loudly when she grated her long nails over his balls. It was too much. He had to feel her.

"Ryazan!" he screamed. "They're in Ryazan!"

The guilt of his betrayal was quickly washed away by his love's vigorous fingers on his shaft. The pleasure was intense. The fingers were slick and wet and seemed to caress each nerve in his cock individually. She started a quick pace with her manipulations and matched it with her vibrator. She bumped the tops of her fingers over his glans with every stroke. He was quickly on the edge again.

Once again, however, she had other plans.

She took her hand away from Sergei's cock just as his orgasm had started to build. His cock gave a single twitch, letting a lone drop of fluid collect at the tip. She held the vibrator in place, but turned it down to low.

He looked over at Natasia and saw where the wetness on her fingers had come from. Her panties were down around her boots and her fingers were buried deep in her pussy.

"Good, Sergei," she panted, as she rubbed herself. "But not good enough. Where in Ryazan?"

Sergei was desperate to come, but he remembered his comrades again. He remembered the revolution and the struggle for freedom against Natasia's tyranny.

"I will not tell you," he said defiantly.

She pulled her fingers from her pussy and rubbed them over Sergei's face.

"Do you want to taste this? Do you want to eat Natasia's sweet pussy?" she taunted.

His mind was overcome with the scent. Thoughts of his friends vanished. He licked her fingers and the memories of their love came back to him. He remembered the countless times he had eaten her before this horrible war had driven them apart. His lust and desire took over. She pushed the fingers into his mouth and he sucked them as hard as he could. She leaned over and whispered to him again.

"Where?"

Her hands gripped his cock tightly. He groaned. She pumped him once, then stopped. He was now on the edge of orgasm with every quick stroke. He opened his eyes and saw her beautiful pussy inches from his face. Her thick hair matted and wet with her arousal. Her clitoris was thick and hard. Her scent was a thousand times more powerful than the taste she had given him.

"The brick house, near the railroad tracks. That is the headquarters of the revolution," he said.

She screamed in ecstasy as he drove his tongue between her lips and lapped at her pussy.

"Yes!" she shouted. She ran her finger up and down his cock at full speed now—he had earned his reward. She felt her own orgasm rising as his tongue played across her clitoris.

"Yes, darling! Come with me!" she yelled.

Natasia turned the vibrator up to full and concentrated her stroking on the upper half of his cock. She felt it swell beneath her fingers. He groaned loudly and captured her clitoris between her lips. The sensation was intense and she gave herself over to her own climax.

It felt as though her own contractions were timed with Sergei's. His semen spurted forth from his pulsing cock as her own juices squirted from her pulsing pussy; his hips bucked between her hand and the vibrator in his ass as her own hips bucked against he wonderful mouth.

She collapsed onto the bed in front of him and he collapsed on top of her, resting his face against her bush. She switched off the vibrator and pulled it out, tossing it across the cell.

"Wow," he said, opening his eyes to look up at his lover. She took a deep breath and looked back down at him. They both started laughing, then, at first a little chuckle, then full deep laughter. He stopped laughing and caught his own breath.

"Next time, darling," he said, his fake Russian accent gone, "I get to be the sympathetic Russian guard and you can be the political prisoner."



The Political Widow



"No man is regular in his attendance at the House of Commons until he is married."- Benjamin Disraeli

*

Tatiana Aitkin found that digging her vegetable patch had three advantages: First, it kept her trim and healthy and saved paying gym fees; second, it provided fresh vegetables and saved money at the green grocers; third, since it required little intellectual effort it gave her time to philosophise on the chances and changes of life. 

On this warm sunny Friday afternoon she was ruminating on marriage. She had been in this honorable estate for twenty years and so felt she was something of an expert on the subject. 

Specifically she was mentally rephrasing some aspects of the marriage vows. This had arisen from remembering an old saying she had heard when a teenager, "The cure for love is marriage." 

Did she still love Anthony after all these years? Did Anthony love her? It was hard to tell because they saw so little of each other. The only time they were together a lot was during the elections for the State Parliament when Anthony Aitkin MHR was trying to get re-elected to the House of Reps. Then she and their son Jason had to parade in front of voters with Anthony, smiling and waving, just to show what a happy united family they were.

"What a load of bullshit," Tatiana thought. I hasten to point out that "bullshit" was not a word Tatiana ever spoke aloud; it was reserved for her private thoughts and was used in connection with politics.

She plunged the fork into the soil, and that gave rise to another thought, although the connection was somewhat obscure. When had Anthony last plunged his penis into her vagina? Try as she might, she couldn't recall.

There should be some changes made in the marriage vows she decided. For example the vow concerning life long faithfulness should be retained, but with an added rider that would read something like, "Unless the husband or wife becomes a politician, in which case the other partner should be allowed to take a lover without prejudicing the marriage."

She considered this for a moment. It was odd, but a lot of the politicians had lovers, often other politicians, while their wives or husbands languished at home un-fucked (another word she never spoke out loud).

"An incestuous lot those politicians, perhaps they should be left to breed among themselves." 

She immediately changed her mind because such an arrangement would probably be the ruination of democracy since their offspring would probably also be politicians. 

A political elite would be established. Her Plato was a bit rusty, but hadn't he suggested some such arrangement?

She gave up that line of thought and began to consider whether or not Anthony had a lover. Was his failure to engage in penile penetration of her vagina because he was sowing his seed elsewhere?

Of course she had considered this possibility many times before but had never come to any firm conclusion. He was hardly ever at home, and seemed to consider home as a haven he could resort to occasionally, but even then he spent most of his time in his study reading parliamentary papers, or so he said.

If only she knew for sure whether or not Anthony had his penis in another woman's vagina she would feel justified in securing a penis for herself.

She gave a little laugh as a mental image of Anthony arose in which he was screwing another MHR, Minnie Stone. Fat, hairy faced with a deep masculine voice, nevertheless there had been rumours that Minnie had been a naughty girl with one of the front benchers.

She dug the fork in again and as she lifted the soil she watched the worms wriggling and wondered about their breeding habits.

"Now supposing, just supposing, I did decide to take a lover," she thought, "who would it be?"

Of course there was Alec Hardacre next door; he'd been wanting to get into her knickers for a long time and had hinted none too subtly about "A fulfilling relationship." 

"No," she thought, "not Alec, he's too old and his penis has been in too many vaginas. I want someone fresh, someone potent and yet inexperienced whom I could teach."

But who? 

The trouble was that the electorate didn't like politician's wives who strayed from the path of virtue. Of course they knew it happened but as long as it didn't get into the media they pretended not to know it happened.

"And that's another thing," Tatiana thought, "politicians' wives and husbands are almost as much under media scrutiny as the politicians." It was as if they knew that the wife or husband didn't get a regular supply of bedtime frolics and were waiting to pounce the moment the frustrated spouse strayed.

Tatiana dug furiously for several minutes, trying to shake off her thoughts, but without success. Her main achievement, apart from some dug over soil, was to work up a sweat. 

It was a warm day and she was wearing shorts and a shirt. Since she was not on public view she decided to remove her shirt. Underneath she was wearing what seemed to be a cross between an ordinary bra and a red bikini top.

She chuckled, thinking, "The media really loves to get pictures of politicians wives dressed like this." She imagined the caption that would go with a picture of her dressed like this.

"Titillating Tatiana Teases," or "Politician's Wife Shows What She's Got," or something like that.

Tatiana placed her hands over her breasts and thought, "Well, I've got something to unveil if I chose to." This I have to admit is true. Tatiana has many female physical assets and not least are her breasts. I have no direct evidence as to their actual size, but at a guess, 34C. They were not exactly upturned with up pointing nipples, but they had retained their elasticity. She was of the opinion that her work in the garden helped her to retain some of her youthful shape.

Relishing the air now flowing over her body she stuck the fork in the ground and raised her arms to allow it briefly to cool her armpits. Now what would the media do with that?

"Tatiana Shows She's a Woman of Uplift"? Well, something like that.

She returned to her delving trying to change the direction of her thoughts. She tried to focus on why cabbages seemed so hard to grow, and unable to deal with this she considered the meaning of the universe, but she ended up still mulling over the idea of a lover. Someone out of the public eye, someone young and virile, someone...someone she could bring to her house without arousing suspicion.

She considered assignations in hotel and motel rooms, but there is always the danger of running into someone who knows you; his house perhaps, that was a possibility but supposing her car was seen outside his house too often? The alternative was not to go there too often, but what was the use of that, the whole point of taking a lover was to get regularly serviced by him. 

It all seemed too difficult and perhaps it was better to tread the path of sexual virtue after all, even if it was stony and scattered with thorns, especially for a sex deprived libidinous woman. No, she would have to work off her sexual frustrations by vigorous digging.

* * * * * * * * 

Half and hour later she'd had enough, the sun was too hot and even in her half naked state she was sweating again. She plunged the fork into the earth, took off her gardening gloves and made her way towards the house. She was half way there when she met Jason coming to meet her.

"Thought I find you in the garden," he grinned.

"Hello Jason," Tatiana said as she kissed him, "what are you doing home early?"

"I was languishing for my mother and so I thought I'd skip the lecture and come home."

"Liar," Tatiana laughed as she slapped him playfully on the cheek, "what really happened?"

The lecturer was sick, terminal in-growing toe nails, or something, so the lecture was cancelled. I thought about working in the library, but decided to come home instead and bask in your radiance. Damned hot isn't it? 

"Yes," Tatiana replied, looking at the thermometer hanging on the wall of the house, 

"Thirty nine degrees."

"And you been working out in this heat, you must be mad."

Tatiana didn't respond to that but said, "I need a shower."

"Could do with one myself," Jason replied, trying to ease his shirt that was sticking to his back.

"Me first because I said it first," Tatiana said.

"Okay," Jason laughed, want me to come and scrub your back."

"No, but you could come and talk to me, I need someone to talk with."

"Ah," Jason said perceptively, "father not been home lately."

"You know he hasn't," Tatiana said, "but it makes no difference when he is, he doesn't talk to me, he only grunts."

"I know what you mean, when I try to talk to him about my course he doesn't even hear." 

"Typical," Tatiana replied with a shrug. "Come and tell me instead."

"While you're showering?"

"Why not, you can't see anything through the opaque glass, and I don't suppose it would matter if you could. I mean I've seen you in your swimming things at the beach and you've seen my in my bikini and that's almost as good as being naked."

"It is a bit different mother," Jason laughed.

"Yes...yes I suppose it is, but I'll make sure you don't have to look at my exposed body," Tatiana replied, echoing his laugh.

Things were managed with sufficient decorum, Tatiana getting into the shower still dressed and then handing her things to Jason. Jason stripped down to his underpants and sat on a stool awaiting his turn. The shower glass wasn't quite as opaque as Tatiana seemed to think and Jason enjoyed a pleasant if slightly fuzzy view of his naked mother. Not for the first time he decided she was definitely very sexy. 

He had often envied his father's access to her body, and at times Jason had fantasised that Tatiana was not his mother; she was someone he had met and they'd fallen in love and became lovers. The age factor didn't bother Jason because he thought that an older woman would be more sexually giving.

His thoughts had given him an erection, but his mother contemplation was interrupted when she called out, "Well tell me then."

"Tell you want?"

"About you're course...your studies, you've said you've wanted to talk to your father about it but he doesn't listen, so tell me."

"Ah, well," Jason said, "we're studying existential philosophy at the moment and I thought dad would..."

"Your father wouldn't know anything about that," Tatiana said above the hiss of the shower, "Now I did study existential philosophy when I was at university so why didn't you come to me in the first place?"

"I didn't know you'd studied philosophy," Jason said.

"No of course you didn't; you're like most men, they think their mothers are stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid," Jason protested.

"All right then, let's talk philosophy."

There now ensued ten minutes of philosophical discussion which can often be entertaining because you never reach any conclusions in philosophy. As someone has written, philosophers are like flies in a bottle, bashing themselves against the glass trying to break out, and failing to see that the neck of the bottle is open.

When Tatiana finished Jason handed her a towel that she wrapped round herself before stepping out of the shower.

Jason stepped in and then handed her his underpants. Tatiana sat on the stool drying her hair and it was her turn to enjoy a view of Jason.

Reverting to her earlier thoughts in the garden she thought, "Wouldn't be nice if I could find a young man like Jason to be my lover." Recently she'd been thinking like that a lot, telling herself it was a pity Jason was her son. There was the age difference, but then there would be the pleasure of teaching him the art of sexual love.

Through the glass screen she could dimly see his erection. Yes, someone just like Jason who would..."Jason, what do you think about adultery?"

Because of the hiss of the shower Jason misheard her, "What...adulthood...what about...?"

"No...no, adultery, you know, when a man and a woman..."

"I know what adultery is mother, what do you want me to say?"

"It isn't what I want you to say, I want to know what you think about it." 

"Well, I haven't thought about it very much."

"Then think about it now," Tatiana said loudly.

"I...er...well...it depends."

"Depends on what?"

"There's a lot of it goes on."

"I know there's a lot of it goes on, but what do you think about it?"

"It depends on the situation." 

"You're avoiding the question Jason," Tatiana said impatiently.

"Yes, I know I am because I don't know what to say...you're not committing adultery, are you?"

"No, but I'm likely to commit murder any moment if I don't get an answer from you."

With sudden resolution Jason said, "All right; if one or both partners aren't getting sexual satisfaction with each other, then I suppose adultery is the next best thing."

"You mean, it's justified?"

"Yes, I suppose so; take for example you and dad, suppose...just suppose you weren't getting any...you know, with him, you could get divorced but the electorate...

"Sod the electorate," Tatiana said.

"What?"

"Nothing...nothing...just carry on."

"The electorate don't like their representatives to get divorced and if you did his career would be ruined, so you stay with him, living in the same house, and you take a lover."

"Very neat," Tatiana muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing," Tatiana yelled, her voice seeming to be amplified because Jason had turned the shower off.

"Give me a towel," he said.

Tatiana handed him a towel and he stepped out of the shower with it wrapped round his midriff, but it didn't hide the protuberance jutting out in the region of his groin. 

"Yes," Tatiana thought, "someone just like Jason; a pity I'm his mother. Are you going out tonight Jason?"

"No, I thought I'd stay in and watch television."

"Let's do something nice, darling," Tatiana said eagerly. 

"Like what?"

"Let's go out somewhere to dinner, I haven't been out to dinner for ages."

"Where, the Peacock Feather?"

"No, that's where your father takes me -- or he used to take me - he thinks it's a good place for us to be seen together."

"Yes, you remember, you dragged me along a few times."

"Not me darling, your father, he said it made it look as if he stood for solid family values."

Jason raised his eyebrows and asked, "Where is he this weekend?"

"He's off to some party conference, or that's what they call it. It's really just an excuse for a booze up. I want to go somewhere where I won't be recognised."

"I know," Jason said enthusiastically, "just the place."

"Where?"

"Aha," Jason teased, "you wait and see. Leave it all to me, I'll make a booking."

He began to leave the room but turned at the door, "You'll be paying, won't you?" he asked anxiously.

Tatiana sighed, "Who else."

"Make your self look beautiful," Jason grinned and left.

"And you put on some decent clothes for a change," Tatiana yelled after him.

* * * * * * * * 

As Jason said, Tatiana had "done him proud." She was wearing a red muslin dress that seemed to enhance her garden inspired tan, and it appeared to cling to the contours of her body, and gave a teasing hint of cleavage. She usually wore her hair pulled back and tied at the back of her head. Tonight she had let it flow free an she seemed to look out from behind a mass of curls and waves that flowed down either side of her face to splatter over her shoulders. 

You look lovely mother," Jason has said, and she had replied, "Humph, and you look at least decent."

Jason's choice of venue proved to be a place called "The Tankard and Parson," a pub that had recently upgraded itself to cater for people who had money to spend. It had the advantage of being more than twenty kilometres outside the electorate, so there was less chance of Tatiana being recognised. Recognition would have been made even more difficult because of the dim lighting.

They were swept to the table Jason had booked by an evening suit clad waiter, who pulled out Tatiana's chair and tucked it in after her. There was a red candle on the table which the waiter lit, and a single red rose in a slender glass vase. 

Tatiana was about to thank Jason for such a nice arrangement, but she remembered she was paying, so she said nothing.

Wine was ordered and menus scanned. They ordered Hollandaise soup with roast duck with new potatoes and vegetables to follow. They finished with Belgian pancakes.

When Tatiana saw the bill she thought what she usually thought on such occasions, "With my vegetables I could have made this meal for a tenth of what they're charging."

During the meal they had consumed a bottle of red wine and were in that convivial state that precedes actual drunkenness. It has been said that a little alcohol can elicit a lot of truth, and this was the state Tatiana and Jason had arrived at.

During the drive home Tatiana's head was resting on Jason's shoulder and she appeared to be dozing. On arriving home they decided that it was too early to go to bed, so they made their way to the lounge.

Tatiana kicked off her shoes and curling up on the divan she said, "Let's have a brandy darling." 

Jason poured two brandies and as he gave Tatiana hers she sat up and patted the place beside her. They sat in silence for a while as the brandy nudged them further towards inebriation. 

Apparently apropos of nothing in particular Jason said, "About adultery..."

"What about it?"

"Well I've been thinking..."

"Really, is it painful?"

Jason ignored her interruption and went on, "You aren't having an affair, are you?"

"I told you before, no, but if things don't change I might."

"Why?"

"Do I have to spell it out Jason; try working it out for yourself."

"Do you mean dad doesn't...doesn't..."

"That's right, he doesn't and hasn't for a long time."

"Oh."

"Would you blame me if I did have a lover?"

"No, I don't think so, but I wouldn't like it."

"Why wouldn't you like it?"

"I'm not really sure, but I suppose it's because you're my mother and you expect...you think of your mother as..."

"Being above that sort of thing?"

"Yes, and besides, you're not like a lot of women...I mean, being married to dad and...well...like we've said, appearances have to be kept up."

"That's just it Jason," Tatiana said vehemently there are times when I get sick of the whole thing."

"What whole thing?"

"Hardly ever seeing your father, and when he is here he's in his study doing something with parliamentary papers, or so he says; having to attend party meetings and rallies to be shown off to the crowd; having to organise the women's' fund raising group; having to be nice to people I don't like because it might mean a few extra votes for your father; being dragged along by your father as an decorative adjunct -- you've had to put up with that yourself; and having to listen to his lies when he tells them what he's going to do for them if he gets elected; and having to count myself lucky if I get a kiss as he hurries off to some engagement. Does that answer your question?" 

"But mum, that's life in politics, and I always thought you enjoyed it."

"I did to begin with, but now in public I have to wear enjoyment like a Greek actor's mask; and what do I get out of it?"

"I suppose some status -- public recognition," Jason replied.

"Public recognition!" Tatiana exclaimed, "at times it's like living in a fish bowl with everybody watching every movement of your flippers. That, my dear Jason, is why I shall probably never have an affair; it'd be all over the place in no time."

The tears came as Tatiana went on, "It wouldn't be so bad if when you father is here he showed some real interest in me. I didn't get married to be a celibate nun or a political widow; I need something Jason -- I need some emotional satisfaction. Will you hug me Jason, I haven't been hugged for a long time?"




The Political Widow



He put his arm round her and drew her to him saying, "If only I'd realised mum I could have..."

Tatiana interrupted him with a sobbing laugh and said, "I shouldn't be talking to you like this; I suppose it's because I'm a little drunk, but I've needed to talk about it for a longtime -- talk with someone I can trust."

"Then I'm glad you are a little drunk and that you can trust me," Jason replied.

"I love you Jason," Tatiana whispered, snuggling close to him.

He had always seen his mother as a very attractive woman but now, holding her close to him, and feeling her warmth and female softness, he felt disturbed. His penis had grown long and hard and was throbbing insistently. 

Tatiana made it worse when she asked, "Will you kiss me Jason?"

He bent and placed his lips on hers, and when he went to end the kiss she put her hand behind his head and made him continue the kiss. When it did end they were looking into each other's eyes questioningly. 

Tatiana kissed him again, this time slowly drifting the tip of her tongue over his lips. It blossomed into an open mouthed tonguing kiss that seemed to go on for a long time. Tatiana drew Jason's hand to her breasts, and when the kiss ended they were both breathing heavily.

It almost seemed they were I a dreamlike state. No words were spoken as Jason moved Tatiana to lie on her back. He raised her dress to reveal her panties and these he removed. As he took off his trousers and underpants Tatiana opened her legs wide and raised them, bent at the knees.

Jason could see her little triangle of pubic hair and the long engorged cleft of her vulva. He laid over her and guided by her hand he entered her vagina. 

She gasped, "Oh my darling," as she felt him penetrate her, and as her warm wet tunnel enveloped his penis Jason groaned, "I love you mother, I love you so much."

There coupling was rather like a film seen in slow motion. They moved together rhythmically, seemingly in no hurry to arrive at a climax. It could not last indefinitely and Tatiana broke the silence saying, "I'm coming darling...I'm going to come...come with me..."

They began to move faster; Tatiana wrapped her legs round his waist while Jason put his hands under her buttocks as they struggled for maximum penetration. Suddenly Jason rammed his penis deep into her and held it there as the first surge of his sperm slammed into her. 

Tatiana emitted a loud sobbing cry, "Oh my darling...oh...yes...yes...I love you...oh...ah...aha...ohwaaa..."

For several seconds they writhed together as their orgasms took control; Jason gave one final spurt of semen and began to relax as Tatiana continued to move over his slowly slackening penis.

When her post-climax after tremors ceased they both lay very still, Jason's penis still in her vagina. Tatiana smiled a secret smile. "Yes," she thought, "this will be safe. Who would suspect a son for spending time at home?" The bonus was that this was with someone she loved and who loved her. 

* * * * * * * *

"That was lovely, darling," Tatiana said softly, "It's been such a long time."

"It'll never been so long again," Jason replied.

"I'm afraid we're both in need of a shower," Tatiana chuckled, "and we needn't be so modest this time."

Jason laughed, causing his penis to joggle in her vagina, "No, a sexual intercourse does seem to change one's perspective."

"The next time," Tatiana said, "we should be naked; it's much better that way."

"What, when we shower?"

"No you silly boy, I mean..."

"It's okay mum, I know what you mean; only joking."

They went to the shower together and this time they didn't have to look through the glass screen to see each other. With the water spraying over them Tatiana knelt in front of Jason and began to suck his penis. Jason put his hands behind her head and gently jerked his penis back and forth in her mouth. When he felt he was about to come he called out, "I'm coming mum..."

Tatiana sucked harder as his sperm filled her mouth. She tried to swallow it but it was too much for her, and when he'd finished she stood up and said, "I dare you to kiss me and taste yourself." Jason promptly kissed her.

"That was wonderful mother," Jason sighed as he washed her genitals.

"You really liked it?"

"Of course I did."

"Good, because you'll pay the price when I get you on the bed."

On the bed, as new lovers are wont to do, they explored each other, licking, sucking and occasionally nibbling. The exploration ceased when Jason saw Tatiana's cleft descending on his mouth as she knelt above him. She placed her fingers on the lips of her cleft and opened them to reveal the pink inner lips. Then his mouth was enveloped by her warm, wet genitals, her woman aroma assailing his nostrils and her taste on his tongue.

She began to jerk herself over his mouth emitting little whimpering cries as she gradually worked his thrusting tongue to her clitoris. Within seconds of the first contact she screamed, clutched his head to her and jerked ever more frantically, her female juice saturating his lower face. 

When her orgasm passed she continued to droop over him until she suddenly rolled from him onto her back gasping, and spreading her legs wide she said, "Now darling, do it to me now...come in me...I want to feel it...in me...in me..."

Jason came over her and pierced her.

As he moved in her Tatiana licked his face, removing her love juice from it. 

She didn't think she would come again, but as Jason's thrusts became ever more fervent it happened. He had one hand on her breast, the other under her buttocks, her legs wrapped round his waist, and his mouth was on her, tonguing her in rhythm with the thrust of his penis into her vagina. 

As her orgasm swept over her she wanted to scream, but his mouth smothered hers. His sperm jolted into her and then he began to fill her. At last he released her mouth and she was sobbing and crying out, "I love you...I love you so much...I'll never let you go..."

Jason, his semen spent, he smiled down at her and said, "I'll never want to go."

* * * * * * * *

Another election time is approaching. Tatiana and Jason are accompanying Anthony whenever possible. Tatiana looks radiant, and Jason looks happier than I've ever seen him before. It is of course common knowledge that if Anthony wins the election this time, then he'll is destined for ministerial office. 

That of course means that he will be away from home even more than in the past. Tatiana and Jason are doing everything they can to see that he wins with an overwhelming majority.

"Successful democratic politicians are insecure and intimidated men. They advance politically only as they placate, appease, bribe, seduce, bamboozle or otherwise manage to manipulate the demanding and threatening elements of their constituencies."- Walter Lippman