1 comments/ 22730 views/ 2 favorites The Beat By: Phazon77 -|- Prologue -|- The beat surged through my body, adrenaline turning the room red with the sweat and heat of female bodies pressed up against mine. The pungent high of human flesh exhilarated my senses and my heart beat ever faster. My arms encircled Tarra and we pressed our bodies hard against each other, my aching pelvis grinding her round, soft ass. I whispered in her ear and she breathed into mine, unable to draw breath enough to mutter her ecstasy. The beat continued on as the mass Rave moved in a sea of coloured humanity. Lights flashed and the Trance music blared, fog filled the room and the speakers boomed their never ceasing beat . I turned her around and her perfect face met mine, our breaths interchanging and hot, her lips so wet and so inviting, the tangy sweetness of mango urging my tongue to search for deeper pleasure. I moved my hand down and grasped her wonderful, soft breast and she gasped into my mouth and giggled. I drew back and kissed her briefly once more, and then she smiled at me, her red and purple hair outlined briefly in rainbow light. She turned around and smashed her sweet ass once more into my groin as the music grew more intense, our breath increasing in pitch and urgency. I could feel the intense heat sliding up and down my hard, concealed cock, painfully but ravishingly pressed firmly against my jeans. The breath of everyone around us could almost be heard over the deep bass rumblings of the DJ's output. We lost ourselves in the feeling as my hands caressed her tight form ever more intimately. My fingers playfully lingered over her nipples and my lips caressed her hot and sweaty cheek. I grasped her inner thigh and her gasp sent a shock through us both. Her knees buckling I fell with her and grunted when I hit the floor, her sexy form landing on top of mine with a complimentary groan of pleasure. -|- Daydreams -|- "Huh?" He leaped suddenly from his stupor, annoyed at the intrusion into his wonderful memory. It was Lance that did it. "What the hell did you do that for?" he glared annoyingly and sleepily in Lance's direction. "Mr. Peterson, do you have anything to add to our little discussion, or are you still busy researching the sleeping patterns of the teenage male?" Everyone in the class seemed to smirk and giggle at once. "No, Mr. Marks" Jace sighed. What a geek. He thought. Jace looked around the biology classroom and yawned. Serves them right for putting me in Bio 30 first thing in the morning. His eyes focused on Tarra, halfway across the classroom. She looked over at him and smiled sheepishly. How can she not be tired? We must have stayed up till- "Jace!" Lance whispered urgently "What?" He was beyond annoyed now. "Sorry about punching you in the head man, Marks was about to chew you out for sure" Lance looked genuinely concerned . "Yeah, ok whatever" Jace murmured distractedly. I'd rather remember eating her out than worry about my Geek-face-Bio teacher having a turn at me. Jace remembered the natural, pungent taste of Tarra's pussy, her hot juices running down his throat, her moans of pleasure.. Everyone in the class stared at him as he smiled blankly in the direction of a diagram of the human reproductive system placed innocently on the far wall. Suddenly the class erupted in laughter and Jace was pulled back into reality once more with a punch to the head. "What the fuck, man?" Lance said harshly. "Are you sick or something?" Jace wiped a bead of drool from the corner of his mouth. "No.. Sorry, I'm just a little tired today. I'll tell you about it later." "Yeah, ok." Lance leaned over his binder and began writing furiously. Poor kid. He thought. Doesn't even know what pussy feels like. A smirk planted itself firmly on Jace's 18 year old lips. Well.. then again, neither did I. -|-The Drive -|- 11 hours earlier "Ohhh, uhhhh, oh yess, yea baby unhh yes..." Jace sat on the edge of his seat as the pair approached orgasm. " Yeah OHH yesss Oh my god yEAaaa!" He rapidly stroked his smooth cock to the rhythm of the onscreen actors. Oh man I can just imagine slipping into that tight pussy. His stokes were approaching a fever pitch when the phone jumped to life beside him. "Fuck. ME" He shouted angrily into the small confines of his room. Jace paused the Porn flick and picked up the busily ringing receiver. He never jacked off while anyone was home, so it was up to him to answer any phone calls, lest his parents bitch him out. "Hello, Peterson residence" Jace's voice was strained from both anger and a burning desire to finish what he started. "Hi! Umm.. is Jace there?" A cute sounding female voice greeted him from the other line. "This is him." The fire suddenly jumped up a notch and soon enough he was sweating bullets. "Oh hi Jace.. " He heard giggles in the background "You sound so.. mature on the phone." Jace could almost see her cute, oh so sexy smile "This is Tarra.. Umm.. Are you busy tonight?" "Umm.. Phaa.. No.. Not really no". Jace made up his mind quickly, despite the dire warnings of his parents not to leave the house. Plus, he would take any chance to be with a girl like Her. "Good. There is a party tonight.. Well.." She giggled. "A really big party.. Are you up for it?" Jace's immediate thoughts were as follows: Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit. "Uh, yeah sure, where is it at?" Jace replied calmly. Jace Peterson could be called a geek by many , and indeed was called a geek by many, including quite a few girls at his school. He didn't really look or act like a geek, but he hung around with guys that did, and it seemed to rub off on him. He hadn't had much luck with girls as a result, but surprisingly he could act quite calm while around them if he wanted to. "Oh, really? So you'll pick me up then? Wow ok.. I guess I'll meet you outside.." Tarra Small had always been someone Jace had always admired, not only for her very sexy body, but also her rebellious personality and her willingness to actually give him the time of day. She always seemed more mature than the other girls in his grade, which I guess should have been a given, since she was a little older than him. "Ha haaa... yes. You'll love it Jace, I know you will!" Tarra raved. "Ya, ya. I'll see you in a few minutes then." Jace said with a huge grin. "Ok bye." Jace sighed and hung up the phone, his mind racing with possibilities. What does she mean.. a big party? Why did she call me? Mabye she.. No it cant be.. Jace laid on his bed for a few minutes, getting progressively more and more exited. Out of nowhere he heard a honk outside his window. Shit they're here! He quickly put on some pants and grabbed his wallet. Mabye I'll actually use these condoms.. Heh. He raced downstairs and out the door and stopped for a sec when he saw the car. Ice gripped his chest when he saw Tommy Matheson in the divers seat. That mother fucker.. Oh well I guess I'll have to put up with him. He glanced around and saw a girl he didn't recognize in the passenger seat, and two more in the back. He opened the rear door and shoved in by the two girls. "Hi Jace." He jumped a little as Tarra put her chin on his shoulder and whispered the phrase. He looked over and suddenly their faces were only an inch apart. They stayed that way for what seemed like an eternity in half a second. Tarra laughed and settled back into her seat in the middle, grinning mischievously. Jace shook his head and grinned for a sec and then put his seatbelt on with a sigh. Tommy turned to me and grunted in his too-deep voice: "So are you ready for a little fun, ya shrimp?" Tommy's smile said If you aren't, get the fuck out. "Yea, so where are we going?" Jace tried to sound unshaken and cool. "A place where little boys like you shouldn't go." He snorted and faced the road once more. "Were going to a Rave, Jace. Its going to kick ass , you'll see." Tarra grinned again at him and he suddenly had a fire burning in his chest. "Were off then!" Tommy grunted as he jammed his foot down on the accelerator. Jace's head was thrown back as the tires squealed in protest. As he turned down the street at full speed Tarra squished into him with a far too pleasant sensation. Once again they were face to face. "Hi." He said "Hi" She said back with a grin. She pecked him on the lips and shuffled back over to talk with her friend. Jace was in a bit of a daze and he thought nothing of it. How could this be happening? It cant. I'm dreaming. He looked out the window at the gleaming city streets flashing by with glazed eyes, not daring to get his hopes up. He felt a soft hand on his back, and it creeped up to his neck and down to the right side of his chest. Suddenly she yanked him up out of his thoughts and sat him straight up. "Whats up with him?" Said the girl behind Tarra. "I dunno Shelly, what's up with you Jace?" Tarra eyed me conspicuously. "Oh nothing. Are we almost at wherever-we're-going?" He said hopefully, rubbing his right side. Jace noticed the girl in the front seat had unzipped Tommy's pants and was giving him a blowjob. Jace blushed and turned to Tarra. "Oh sure, its just around the block." She looked at him again, deeper this time, like she was trying to see inside his head. The flame jumped up in his chest again as he moved closer to her. She closed her eyes and moved closer to him, her delicate hands making their way to his chest. Jace moved in and their lips just touched. Tommy slammed on the brakes and his head slammed into the passenger seat headrest. He caught Tarra just as she was about to fly in between the two seats, and brought her close. She squirmed out of his grip and punched Tommy in the head. "What the fuck, asshole!" Tarra yelled angrily " I could have been though the windshield!" She turned and looked at Jace apologetically. The Girl that was sucking Tommy's cock looked up and swallowed the remainder of the cum dripping down her lips. She sat up and started breathing heavily. Jace figured she was probably rubbing herself. "Whaat. We made it didn't we?" He laughed and received another blow to the head. "Oww, bitch. Sit down. This is my car I can drive how I want to. You didn't have to be macking with that little wuss over there, its not my fault." Tommy rubbed his head and turned into a large parking lot. Tarra sat down and moved close to Jace. "Thanks, wuss." She said playfully as she smiled and turned to look outside the car. "Were here. Finally." Jace opened the car door and was greeted with the smell of booze, sweat and the city. He heard the steady beat of a DJ pulsing through the doors of a large, new looking building. A sign proclaiming : "The Beat" stood out in sharp neon that mimicked its namesake inside, flashing on and off with the pulse of the music. The excitement that held him down before now rose to new heights, along with the euphoria of having Tarra by his side. "So this is a Rave.... Huh." -|-The Beat -|- BoomBoom A daydream BoomBoom A kiss BoomBoom Her face in-mine and a tight-sweet-ass-you-just-cant-miss Jace smiled as the lyrics pounded his temples and vibrated the hot, sweet air sweeping into his chest. The energy was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. He knew it was his. He knew she was his, in this place, tonight. Jace turned to Tarra and led her into the mass of bodies. The Beat took hold of them as it had countless others, thrumming through their bodies like a tuning fork gone AWOL. Tarra looked at him, surprised with the beginnings of a cheeky grin forming on her gleaming lips. She leaned close and whispered as intimately as the music would allow, her warm breath sending pleasant chills down his spine. "I want you." The gentle flame that had kept his core so warm that night blazed into a dazzling bonfire of want and desire. The lightshow around him seemed to explode with colour as their lips met, The Beat expanding and contracting with their laboured breaths. Jace drew back after several moments and gazed into her now-violet eyes, his vision of her now seeming beyond real. They meshed once more, and in their lust-filled stupor (the tangy sweetness of mango; fingers playfully lingered over her nipples and my lips caressed her hot and sweaty cheek.) they fell with knees buckled by their want (grasped her inner thigh and her gasp sent a shock) she looked at him and he grunted (her sexy form landing on top of mine) with a complementary groan of pleasure. The bodies pressed in around them. Jace caressed her form once more, savoring its soft give on his now hard and aching body, and lifted himself regretfully from under her and on his feet, helping her to stand by his side. They would be crushed if they stayed, moment of ecstasy or no. He turned to her, whispering his plan as she had whispered hers in that intimate moment. Her eyes lit up with excitement and a dreamy sort of gaze as her hand grasped his, leading them both to the edges of the colored sea of humanity. His eyes fell upon a large grouping of neon couches and chairs, most of them already filled with lightly moaning occupants. Tarra looked at Jace with a sly grin and led him to an unoccupied section, slightly hidden for privacy. The music was quieter here, but it didn't seem to quell the intensity of the atmosphere and the bass thumping through it. His heartbeat seemed one with the beat, only doubled, the trill high of expectation dominating his thoughts as she worked her way down his sweat-soaked chest, pushing him onto the bright neon-leather with a laugh and a grin. She unbuttoned his jeans and moved up once again, delaying the oh-so blessed relief he had wanted so bad. She mounted his lap and silenced his grimace with a kiss. "I've had a crush on you for ages, Jace." She whispered in his ear after removing her soft tongue from his own. "I know you have too. I see the way you look at me sometimes, out of the corner of my eye.." She winked at him and placed his hand on her swelled breast. "I got tired of waiting." She put his other hand between the hot join of her legs. "And I want you to take me" Her breath came out in a harsh rush and she kissed him once again, his hands caressing her tender parts still clothed. She withdrew and once again leaned between his now trembling legs, running a hand up his inner thigh and up onto the zipper of his bulging pants. She slipped it down and moved her hand onto the hard, underwear covered phallus, squeezing gently as if to test its worthiness. She giggled quietly and drew off the rest of his jeans. She left him in his boxers and began to unbutton her shirt. Jace watched intently, euphoric and dazed, when he finally managed to catch his breath enough to speak. "Hey, let me.." Jace got up, his boxers becoming an obvious tent of lust, and moved up behind her. Her hands dropped as he wrapped his arms under her tits and he undid the last button of her damp blouse. He slipped his hands up to her breasts and kissed her neck as she undid her bra. It slipped off and the deep red peaks stood out innocently, colored gently by the flashing lights of the Rave now muted by comparison. Jace pressed his cock into the soft of her jeans and she leaned in, uttering soft gasps as he tweaked her twin peaks. He moved his hands down, and with it his face, breathing in fragrant hints of perfume and sweat on his way down to her supple ass. She undid her button and zipper and soon she stood before him, nude except for a pair of panties soaked in her lustful juices. His hands glided down her hips and turned them around, her laced triangle of secrecy now before him. He grinned up at her and she parted her thighs, falling casually onto the neon sofa. He plunged his face between her glowing thighs and inhaled the musky scent of her pussy, caressing and kissing the veiled lips with his own. He drew back, sliding with his palms her underwear, exposing the final glistening prize in all its glory as he prepared to descend once more. Her gasps were plain to his ears as his tongue struck her engorged labia, unprofessionally licking and kissing her everywhere he could imagine. He felt warm fingers slide behind his ears and chin as she relaxed her legs even wider, her hands directing his warm mouth to the sensitive red lump she knew so well from her juvenile career pleasuring herself. Her hands tensed and Jace felt her back go rigid as he found her target. Her gasps became more urgent and quick as he concentrated on the little red button, his jaws aching and his desire to please her to great to care. Jace kissed her clit one last time, the whole world a muffled, damp, pungent daze between her tightly wrapped thighs, as she bucked fiercely against his face while she rocked in gasping orgasm. Jace withdrew and kissed her belly button, her sharp breaths becoming helpless laughter. She paused and looked into his eyes, their glazed expressions telling each other of a greater want. Their breath came out in a heated rush as they came together in the spectral bliss of each others desperate want. Jace positioned himself perfectly between her thighs and he groaned as he felt the sweet melting heat spread down his cock. He took her gently at first, and then increasingly harder until they were fucking with near-animal ferocity. Jace opened his eyes, taking himself away from the pleasure for a brief moment, to enjoy the sweet look of far away submission on her face, a sweet smile occasionally opening in a tight grimace that matched her pussy's spasms. He felt embarrassed for a brief moment and drew her face to his, letting her come at him as he did her. Tarra opened her eyes as they kissed, rolling on top of him with her breasts lightly jiggling, now exposed as she arched lustfully. She rolled erotically on his erect penis, sending rolling waves of pleasure deep into Jakes groin. He could feel himself getting ready to come with this unbearable display of female sexuality. Tarra was there, exposed before him, her hands in her hair and her sweaty form undulating as if in a trance. He could take sitting still no longer and began humping her upright form. She collapsed playfully on top of him as he began to come, his breath becoming fever pitched and hers filled with little moans. Tarra felt her pussy become impossibly warm as the hot come spread inside her, barely hearing Jace's hitched gasps as his thrusts slowed and then stopped. The beat returned and they lay listening. The Beat I awoke feeling extremely horny, I got up and put on a pair of running shorts & t-shirt and went for a jog, well a jog to the local beat! As I walked in I saw 2 pairs of feet in the end stall, both facing the same way. I stood at the urinal, waiting for some trade. I didn't have to wait long, before a furry bear walked in and stood at the next urinal within arms length of me. I tried to piss, but my cock was getting hard in anticipation. The bear looked at my rising cock and smiled at me. With his cock still hanging out of his fly, he slowly turned to face me and then walked to the middle stall, pausing to look back at me. I followed him to the stall, and closed the door. There was no latch, so the door was left slightly ajar. I could hear muffled moans from the next stall. I fell to my knees and began rubbing his cock all over my face, hypnotized by the heady scent of cock. He grabbed my head and fed his cock into my open mouth, giving me a second to lick & suck on the head before he pulled my mouth onto his meat until my nose was being tickled by his pubic hair. As I sucked on his member, I felt it twitch and stiffen in my mouth, slithering along my tongue, all the while getting thicker. I moaned onto his cock as he began slowly thrusting in & out of my suctioning mouth. With each thrust he became longer and thicker. He pulled out of my mouth, tilted my head back and draped his ball sack over my mouth. I sucked in one, feeling it with my tongue, it was one of the biggest balls I had ever encountered. I tried sucking the second one in, but my mouth wasn't big enough. As I swapped to sucking his other ball, he started slapping me with his cock, the fat head hitting me in the forehead. I extended my tongue, snaking towards his perineum and caressing it with the tip of my tongue. His eyes rolled back and he groaned. From the next stall I could now hear the sounds of flesh slapping on flesh and grunting. The bear pulled his ball sack away, aimed his cock at my open mouth and drove it into the hilt and held my head there for a few seconds before resuming humping my mouth as I slurped on him and I again began moaning onto his hard cock. I became vaguely aware of someone watching as I worshipped the cock before me. I caught a flash of a face outside the ajar stall door. The man fucking my face opened the door, I turned my eyes to see a another man standing there, he was rubbing his cock through his pants. There wasn't enough room in the stall for 3 people, so the bear pulled his cock out of my mouth and walked over to the sinks, before turning around and waving his cock at me. I followed his cock and bent over and resumed sucking it, my ass inviting the newcomer. The newcomer knelt down and pulled my shorts to the side and started eating my horny hole, occasionally dipping his tongue inside. I was floating in space, unaware of anything except the cock fucking my face, and the mouth eating my ass. Now that I was nice and wet, the newcomer stood up & positioned himself at my anus as I pushed back toward him, inviting him inside. He pushed his half hard cock past my muscle ring, then stopped and began pissing, filling my guts with warm liquid. The sensation was incredible, it was like having 100 hot loads being pumped into my hole all at once. Once he finished pissing in my bowels, he began slowly pumping and his cock stiffened, quickly stretching my hole. With every thrust it pressed a little harder onto my prostate, causing my cock to start dribbling cum every time he drove his cock into me. The two men now began alternating their strokes, bouncing me back and forth on their cocks. I was completely helpless and I was loving every second of it. After a few minutes of this bliss, I felt the cock in my mouth begin to swell & I knew I was about to receive his creamy load. I sucked and slurped harder on his cock as he held my ears and fucked my face, before holding my face against his groin as I felt his cock pulsing and pumping his load into my mouth & down my throat. As a shot hit the back of my throat, I gagged and cum ran down the sides of my mouth and dripped off my chin onto the floor. Once I had sucked his cock clean, he pulled his softening cock from my mouth, stuffed it back into his pants and left without a word. I slightly straightened my back and the man in my ass grabbed my shoulders and began pounding me hard and deep. Every time he slammed his cock into me, piss was leaking out of me, running down my legs and soaking my shorts, shoes and socks. His cock began to swell, indicating his impending orgasm, pressing even harder onto my prostate, triggering my orgasm. My legs began shaking and my vision blurred as he continued his barrage on my hungry hole and my prostate. Every time he drove his cock into my hole, my cock spurted and I saw stars. Finally he buried his cock in me, pulling my shoulders down so I couldn't escape, not that I wanted to, and began pumping his seed deep inside me. I was still cumming as his cock pulsed against my prostate. Finally our orgasms subsided and he pulled his cock out of me. It was like removing a plug. His piss and cum flooded out of me onto the floor. I turned around and began gently licking and sucking his cock clean. When he was satisfied, he pulled from my mouth, pushing his cock back into his shorts and zipped up his fly. He said "Thanks", and winked at me and left, leaving me with drenched jogging shorts, socks and shoes. I wrung some of the piss out of my shorts and put them back on & began walking home thoroughly satisfied. The Beat Goes On The sunshine is dancing off the lake in silver flashes of quiet peaks and valleys, as we pull into the long drive to our summer cabin. I look over and see the smile of anticipation on your face. This pleases me so much, I let out a silent sigh of appreciation. I love it when you are at this place within you, within us. Parking just in front of the wind whipped love shack, that still wears the name you gave it, Eternity... I love that name, and how your little play on words was just so perfect. Eternity, yes that's where we'll be together... In Eternity. Coming around to the passenger side, opening my door, you smile and say "Shall we, my lady?" I smile at that little joke we share again "Of course, kind Sir." This brings a big grin to your face that spreads like butter, smoothing over the life lines there. I step from the car, my white cotton dress lifting, giving you a view of the legs, you know so well. You have traveled upon them with more awareness than your own, at times in our lives. A wind stirs, and our hair is blown awry... I love this feeling... The wind, the peace, your love.. Is there anything more that two could need? Not too me, I am complete in this moment... All such moments. We walk hand in hand into our Eternity.. The care takers have everything ready for us. The cabin is just more lovely each time we are here. You pull me close and hug me tightly to you... It's so hard to breathe, and who wants too? I love this intensity of electrical current that dances between us. You draw back, looking into my eye's with the love you have blessed me with in every way.. "My darling precious one, I must have you now." I, being only to happy to oblige, respond in the role you have awarded me. "Yes Sir, let me please you... this one is happy to do so." I kneel in front of you. Your fingers run through my hair like a young child through the meadow... Pressing my face to your knees, I kiss you as I rub my head back and forth across your legs... Once again we share this, the way only we can. Within our love, deeper than roles, deeper than this moment. Life, in a certain primal fashion. I move up and press my hot lips to your groin as you are stirred to a rock like erection... I love that my submission does this to you, though I know that it's not only in this role.. It is us in our entirety. I unzip your slacks, and letting the beautiful cock loose, I cup your balls in my hand and begin to trace the warm veins with the other. My legs spread of their own accord, my breathing coming now in great heaves, I desire you so much... I must have you, now and every time we are able. My lips are moist and silky as they cover your cock, which is already weeping soft tears of pre-cum... I adore that in you, your desire, so much like mine.. Always just below the surface, awaiting any opportunity to be released. I begin to flick my tongue on the fluid, drawing it into me, needing this for sustenance of my life, very soul.. My hands continue cupping and massaging your balls, with firm, yet soft pressure. I slide down to the root of your cock and back again in slow, languid motion.. My tongue flicks and darts all along the way. I cup your ass cheek in the other hand and trace lines in it with my nails... Your fingers reach down and begin to pinch the nipples through the low cut, soft, filmy garment there. I rarely wear a bra, so their close to hand and easily stirred to new stone like firmness. Moans release onto your cock, your breath is sucked in with that feeling... You are so aroused now, as I am... As you alternate pinching and massaging my nipples, I draw you deeper into the firm wet mouth. While it greedily feeds on you, yet feeds you as well... Each time I suck you in, I lick and flick my tongue over your hot, pulsating cock... I bring my hand up to my mouth and while your cock is still sliding back and forth in it, I place a finger there and taking the saliva onto it... Your balls are still being massaged by the other hand as the nails gently trace the line that separates them, dancing down to the spot just behind them. I gently insert my fingertip, wet with my saliva into your anus. You moan lowly, legs trembling a little.. I love the way you respond to my attentions... You take my head into your hands and pull my head up slightly, not letting me stop, just looking into my eyes as I continue this intense sucking... I slide my finger deeper into your ass, back and forth slowly at first, still sucking in time with it. Drawing you deeper into me, pushing farther inside your tight, sensitive dark hole.. Your hips begin to move in steady cadence with my mouth, my finger. As my other hand draws your balls up against my face rubbing my chin as I dive deeper onto you... Pushing into your ass now with ease, back and forth, sucking, licking with each new pass. My eyes shine with this desire, as with every time we make love. It is never just fucking, although it's not always slow... My finger glides rapidly in and out of your ever more relaxed ass... I begin to push against that point inside it just behind your balls, that makes you shoot like a volcano... And your balls tighten and I feel your shaking, as I know now how close you are. I suck harder, faster, flicking, twirling tongue around the head, with every thrust... You drive your hips into my face faster, harder, needing to cum now... My moans are more frequent now, I am close too... Pleasing you does this to me... Back and forth into your ass, up and down onto your cock, sucking, pushing, sucking.. flicking... pushing... sucking... flicking... pushing... gliding.. hotter,wetter, faster. You cry out "Yes my Pet, that's it, take it now... My God, I'm cumming... ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm." Your hot jism shoots like a geyser against the back of my throat. I keep pushing into your ass, swallowing and licking you still. My body is over taken with shivers as I begin to cum all down my legs, dripping onto the wooden floor. A searing light flashes through my mind, I cannot think, I cannot see, only feel. I am more alive at this moment than every moment before, and until the next one.. My toes curl, it feels as if the toenails will be blown off any second now... I shake harder... Your cum still shoots out as you pull out of my mouth and spray the rest of your cum onto my face, it splatters onto my lips, chin, into my hair.. Another wave onto my throat and chest. Your hands reach down and rub the hot, sticky love juice into my skin. Taking your fingers, pushing them into my mouth.. Pulling me up to you, kissing me passionately... Your hands travel over my body like a well known journey, stopping at all your favorite sights. "Precious Pet, I love you so" you look into my eyes with the joy we each feel in one another... I know that this is but one moment of the many we will share. "Sir, this one could not love you more." A sly grin passes over your lips as you say "That remains to be seen, does it not, Pet?" You take me to the floor and place me on all fours, pushing my head down until it rests there. I know that I need not speak... ````````````````````````````````` "Your silence is comforting, pet, as is the way your body trembles with anticipation." You slowly walk around me... observing my precious form there before you. The rounded curves, the way my breasts press against the floor, my face, still sticky with your cum on the floor. You walk around me, returning to my ass. Yes, that ass... So inviting. The fire crackles and casts shadows upon my prone form. You take the handcuffs and drag them thru the cleft of my ass, up my spine, to the back of my neck. The cold metal gives me a start, but the clinking of the metal links gives me a warning of what to expect. In an instant, you have my wrists behind me and the cuffs snapped tight. You grab my hair sharply and pull me to my knees. "My lovely pet... my lovely pet", you whisper in my ear. Walking in front of me, you then kneel and look into my eyes daring me to look away. With our eyes locked onto each other, I feel the cool steel of the nipple clamp tighten on my left nipple, then the right. I feel a long chain fall to the floor, it's slight weight giving a tug at my hard, aching nipples. My breath is sucked in quickly. A moment of doubt flashes through my mind as it always does, will I be up to the steps of this ever changing dance we share. You step back, admiring your efforts. Stroking and rubbing your cock to life. You are pleased with what you have done... Very pleased thus far. You give a final testing tug, very abrupt to each of the clamps, to see me wince. Yes, that is a thing of beauty. Then, as you walk around behind me, I hear the air split by the crop, as you test it's flex. "Pet, it is time." I bend forward on all fours. You take the long chain and lay it over the links that join my cuffs... You pull and the clamps begin to slowly and evenly stretch my nipples. As you pull tighter, the chain finds its way to my clit, I feel each small link run over my swollen clit... The chain, as you pull even tighter, snaps to my dripping slit and moves over my tender ass. Slowly doing this, letting me soak in each link as it forms to me, binds me ever tighter. "Now we must begin pet" With a quick flick of the wrist, the crop finds my ass.. The unexpected touch of stinging leather makes me jump. I wince and try to move away... You jerk the chain... My nipples are suddenly taunt, my clit rubbed hard by the metal. Another swift flick and the crop falls across my ass. Another jerk of the chain. My nipples on fire... My ass stinging... My clit and cunt raw from the chain... Again... SMACK!!! The crop raises a lovely red welt on my ass... You hear me moan.. A moan of pain and pleasure as the chain does it work on my nipples... They are becoming sore, stretched so very hard. SMACK!!! I anticipated that slice of the crop and moved my ass into the crop. Yes, you see, we're at the point now where I am showing you how much I can take it. Sweat runs between my breasts, down the crack of my ass. New gooseflesh rises upon already perspiration slicked skin... SMACK, YANK, SMACK, YANK. The alternating rhythm of the crop on my now stinging red ass and my sore nipples soon wears away any diffidence I might have... My ass now tries to move from under the crop... Making the next flick of your wrist all the more painful. "Now that you are warmed up, my pet... I think we can get started" The Beat Hypnotizes Me I own all copyrights to this submission, please do not use this story for your own board/site without my permission thank you. ***** The beat hypnotizes me, rocking me back and forth, my body vibrating my lips parted, eyes closed. I move; my hips swaying, my arms out and above me, feeling comatose and at the same time so alive. Sweat glistens on my body. My breathing is ragged as I twist and turn, my head rolling from side to side. Entranced, caught up in the flow of the music, I open my eyes and standing before me is the most beautiful man I have ever seen. Our eyes lock and it’s as if I am dancing for him now, the room disappears. All there is is the music. The beat moves me as I glide closer; my eyes never leave his as I cross the dance floor. They are dark pools of ink, flashing in the dim lights of the club. He’s not dancing, just stands there watching me. A slow smile crosses his face and he holds out his hand to me. I take it, dancing against him, pressing my body against his and sliding up and down, letting the beat continue to move me. I turn my back to him, rising up and then back down as I dance, feeling him, trying to feel the warmth of his skin beneath his clothes. A moan escapes my red painted lips and I press back again, this time only rolling my hips, feeling the hardness of his manhood through his leather pants. I hear him take in a breath, and his lips lightly touch my neck. He breathes in my scent, and then softly kisses the pale flesh of my body. I groan and turn to face him, my arms wrapping around his neck, grinding into him, letting him feel me, how close I am. Smiling wickedly, he leads me off the dance floor. I follow him without question to a back room down the darkened hallway. He glances back at me and the smile is still upon his face. I feel drawn to him, wanting him to look at me with his liquid black eyes. The music is still thumping and I can feel it vibrating through the walls as he closes the door behind us. I notice he does not lock it and I smile. “No lock?” I ask as he sits me down onto the dark blue sofa in the room. He bends to his knees and stares into my eyes and I shiver from the electric signal I receive from him. Still silent, he shakes his head no, and then leans forward brushing his lips against mine. I reply with a stronger kiss, still feeling the rhythm of the song in my veins, urging me into the hot embrace of passion. My arms wrap around his neck and I lean back pulling him on top of me, my dress riding up my thighs. His hand reaches down and smoothes along my stockings then playfully snaps the garter, I yelp and he chuckles. My lips form a red pout and I lift up to lock my eyes with his again. “You like to hurt me?” “I like it more then you’ll ever know.” He whispers back and dips his head, kissing along my neck, his tongue flicking my ear lobe. I gasp and tilt my head to the side, wrapping my legs around his waist. I shiver and moan, “Mmm...what do you like?” “Pain.” He says back, nibbling along my neck and then lifts to look at me. His hands move up and slowly lower the thin straps of my dress off my shoulders. I smile and let him bare me, revealing in the look on his face as he uncovers my breasts. “Like?” I ask, my fingers rising to pull on my nipples. He smiles wickedly and nods; his head lowers and brings my left nipple to his mouth, sucking in deeply. I arch my back and then yelp as I feel his teeth tighten around it and tug. He moves to the other and does the same, my eyes light up, my fingers intertwining into his dark curls. I pull his hair hard, yanking his face up from my breast and laugh as his eyes flash. “Talk to me lover, tell me who you are!” I say and let my fingers caress my breasts as he watches. He shakes his head, “Who I am is not important, you tempt me too much woman!” I grin as he dips back to my chest returning my hardened nipples to his mouth. He bites down harder and I cry out, my body arching, as my legs tighten around him. He moans, his hands finding my legs once more; his nails tearing through the thin stockings covering my milky white thighs. I spread my legs releasing him, letting his hands roam where ever they wish to go. “Ahh, what do you wish to do with me lover?” I gasp as his mouth makes love to my breasts. He rose and looked down at me, laying there legs spread, stockings torn. His intense eyes trace the curve of my thigh and then look over the damp thongs I wore. His hand moves between my legs and his finger caresses me causing me to call out to him once again. He smiles, “I wish to ravage you, and I wish to taste you….” He whispers scooting down the couch until he was settled comfortably between my legs, his face just inches away from my damp panties. His tongue snakes out from between his pale lips and licks through the silk covering my sex. My body stiffens as I feel him tongue me through my thongs; I finally spread my legs wider and look down at him. His eyes were staring up at me, a look of hunger on his face. I slowly lower my hand from my breasts down to my wet crotch and slide it under my thongs. My fingers moving over my wet slit as he watches, I dip one finger then the other into my hot hole. Fingering myself slowly at first then picking up pace, aroused from him watching me masturbate, I whimper. He reaches down and rips the thin fabric from me, his eyes taking in the sight of my fingers buried deep within my pussy. I quicken the pace and gasp between breaths, “You like watching me do this?” His eyes flash and he nods, “You’re so beautiful, go faster!” I complied, fingering myself quickly, my hips rising up, meeting my hand. My cries echo off the walls of the room, my body finally quivers then convulses with orgasm. I groan and pull my fingers out holding them up to him to clean. His mouth engulfs them licking the juices, tasting me. A low growl comes from him and he dives into me, his tongue thrusting deeply into where my fingers had just been. I sigh and give myself to him, his mouth assaulting me, his lips move to my clit and then I cry out as his teeth tug on it painfully. He sucks me into him, tugging and pulling until my eyes almost tear; I groan and shudder from orgasm once more. He sits up and begins unbuttoning his leather pants, as he undresses I lower my hand to my pussy, running my fingers through my juices. When I pull my hand back, blood catches the dim light and I quickly look to him. He smiles and licks his lips, “You taste wonderful.” “Do I?” I ask bringing my fingers to my mouth and licking the blood from them, I see him smile wider. “Oh yes, I can not wait to taste more of you.” He steps out of his pants and sits back onto the couch; I sit up and crawl over to him, climbing on top of him I slide my body down onto his hard cock and sigh in contentment. I slowly rise up and lower myself again, riding him. He growls and grabs hold of my hips forcing me down harder onto him. “Harder, make it hurt!” I again complied and began fucking him faster and harder, grunting as our bodies make contact with each down stroke. I can feel him deep in me; leaning closer to him, my lips find his neck and I suck on it, my hips thrusting down onto him. I whisper, “Mmm like that lover?” “Yes!” He hisses, “Harder!” “You want more pain?" I gasp riding him as hard as I possibly could. He groans, hissing again, “Yes!” His eyes rolling to the back of his head and his mouth gapes open. I move faster and look at him one last time; and then a wicked smile comes to my face as I open my mouth. My fangs sink into his neck and all I hear is the beat of the music mixed with a delicious scream.... The Beat Meet THIS STORY IS INTENDED FOR ADULT READING ONLY -------------------------------------- Evening, all. There's nothing like an old time copper . . . or, at least, there's nothing like the fun and games the old time coppers used to get up to. This is the way it used to be when PC stood for Police Constable instead of Political Correctness. --------------------------------------- When I see the crap that police officers have to put up with today I'm glad I'm retired. The fancy cars and the high tech gear they have now doesn't make up for being a police service instead of a police force. That's what we used to be, a force, a police force with a uniform that was respected by everybody, criminals and the public alike. When I remember how it was . . . well, it was great. Being a copper used to be the best job in this country. If you don't believe me, I'll tell you the story of my first day on the job. That's right, the first time on the beat. Straight out of training school I was and sent to a small market town in the Midlands. The local station found me lodgings with a lady old enough to be my mother but a brilliant cook and some desires that her husband wasn't satisfying at all. Not that I found out about that until later, I was happy enough to start our acquaintance with a breakfast that would have fed a family of gypsies. Not that any of it got wasted -- I was a big lad, six foot two, with shoulders as wide as a barn door and a lot of muscle from playing rugby every chance I got. Aye, I was what they call well presented, with a grin that a lot of people described as cheeky. Just a big overgrown boy hardly out of my teens, putting on a old fashioned uniform with a silly helmet and boots on my feet heavy enough to crush stones into gravel. Still, when I looked in the mirror I thought I looked pretty smart, what with that big silver crowned badge above my head, a row of shiny buttons down my high necked blue tunic and a silver whistle chain tucked into the top left pocket. What I was soon to find out was how many doors that uniform could open. Like I say, the force was well respected in those days. So, everything straight and tidy for public display and then down to the station. Not a big place but big enough to handle the routine work in the town, with a sergeant in charge. He was as big as I was, but a lot older, a fellow named Hanson. A steady sort, but not a man to take any nonsense. I spent most of the morning learning the office routine and then the sergeant took me for a stroll around the town. I got shown most of the local places of interest and especially where the phone boxes where located. No pocket radios in those days. What you did on patrol was to make 'points'. That meant waiting outside a designated phone box at a specified time, usually for about five minutes, so that if the station needed you for anything they could ring through. After we'd done the tour Sergeant Hanson said he'd leave me on my own for a while to keep on patrolling. He made sure I knew my point times for the rest of the shift and then went back to the station. I guess that wouldn't happen nowadays, a young copper on his first day left in the streets on his own with no radio and no weapon except a wooden truncheon. But that was then and nobody in his right mind tried to make trouble for the force in those days -- not unless he wanted to find out how heavy those police boots could be when they stamped down on something. No, there weren't any problems, the sun was shining, the locals were nodding respectfully at me, most of them spotting straight away I was new in the area. Then a smart young lass stopped for a chat and I was happy to oblige. In fact, that was what the Sergeant had told me to do, to talk to the locals as much as possible and get to know them. If this was the first one, that was fine with me. She said her name was Angela and I was welcome to stop by her house for a cup of tea whenever I wanted to. Of course being invited in for a cup of tea was something anybody would do for a stranger and it didn't necessarily mean more than common politeness. Especially considering the pram Angela was pushing. Still, I made a note of her address anyway. You never knew your luck with the ladies, that was my belief. To tell the truth I was starting to enjoy myself, with the attention the uniform was getting. Or maybe it was the way I was filling it out. And then there was a scuffle near a pub with a couple of drunks being silly, but not so silly that they didn't scoot off around the corner like long dogs as soon as they saw me coming. The landlord invited me in for a drink on the house, which I didn't dare do, in case Hanson came back. But I was full of myself, feeling like Wyatt Earp on the streets of Tombstone after the last gunslinger had been carried off to Boot Hill. Well, I was as young and green as they come. Anyway, I made another point. The phone in the kiosk didn't ring so I continued patrolling and then noticed I was walking past a school. The kids were streaming out at the end of the day, with the younger ones being collected by their mothers. All except one woman who was left hanging around the gates after the rush was over. "Hello, officer," she said to me, matching the words with a smile that straightaway tickled my fancy. Oh, yes, this one was well worth passing the time of day with. The top of her reddish tinted hair was a clear foot below my shoulders, with a curl over her forehead and the rest worn long. Her face was pleasant without being really pretty, the nose was a trifle too big for that, but her eyes were green and bold, with a very vivid shade of lipstick on her smiling mouth. She had to be easily ten years older than me, more likely fifteen, so the breasts underneath the red and white floral shirt she was wearing deserved the mature plumpness the fabric clung to very nicely. Neither was there much amiss from there on down, with a bright red skirt which was drawn taut over a slightly plump belly and hips far enough apart for a man to settle onto in comfort. What was more, the skirt hemline was above her knees, high enough to be about as far as a respectable married woman could go in those days. Oh yes, I spotted that drawback straight away, the wedding ring on her left hand but apart from that it seemed to me that here was the kind of fancy piece I'd love to have a few drinks with in a pub. By Christ, I'd have bought this one her booze all night in return for a chance to see those tits getting shaken around. Married or not, I was going to hang around within leering distance of this fine looking lady as long as I could, especially if she kept smiling at me the way she was now. "Hello," I answered. "Waiting to collect somebody from the school, are you?" She smiled again: "No, no, I'm Anna Morrison, the head teacher here, just making sure all our little darlings get collected safely." "You're a teacher?" She seemed slightly puzzled at my question: "Yes. Any reason why I shouldn't be?" "No, no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything," I said. "It's only, when I was at school, all our female teachers . . . well, none of them looked anything at all like you. If they had, being kept back at school would have been a pleasure instead of a punishment, believe me." She laughed, a deep throaty laugh that made my toes curl. Then she said: "Oh, I see. Well, you've just talked yourself out having to write any lines for being a naughty boy. I haven't seen you before, have I?" "No, you haven't, Mrs Morrison. It's my first day in town. I'm Constable Rogers. Phil Rodgers." "Pleased to meet you, Phil. Please call me Anna." She shook my hand as if she was afraid that I'd break the bones in hers. "My, you are a big fellow, aren't you, Phil?" Mmmm . . . and for all her apparent hesitancy in putting her hand in mine it seemed as if she'd squeezed it for longer than had been quite necessary. "Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?" That sounded like a good idea, a chance to get to know her better but it suddenly occurred to me that here was a chance to try out a trick that one of the instructors at the training school had tipped us off about. He'd said that if ever we met a woman we thought might be willing for some fun and games, the best thing to do was to tell her there was a flasher fooling around in her neighborhood. Either she'd be frightened or she'd be interested, and the more interested the better. Either way, you'd soon find out what sort of a woman she was. Whatever else I might have missed at the school there was no chance I'd forget that lesson. Of course, a middle aged married school teacher was hardly likely to be up for a frolic but this seemed like a good chance to test the theory. "Thank you, Anna, but somebody has told me there's a suspicious looking character in the area. I thought perhaps I should take a stroll around the back of the school buildings just to see if I can see anything. If anybody was there he's probably gone by now, but you never know." "Oh. What was suspicious about him?" "Well, he was wearing a raincoat for one thing, which seems a bit odd with the weather as warm as it is today." I winked at her. "If you get my meaning." "Oh," she said again, but in a knowing tone. "Oh, one of those, hey? Wanting to show himself off to some of the children, you think?" "I don't about know that, but it might be possible." Anna nodded. "Come to think of it, I saw somebody round the other side of the school this afternoon. Somebody wearing a raincoat, I mean. It seemed a bit odd at the time." Which was a statement that set me right back on my heels. Here I was making up a story and here was this woman making up another one of her own to match it. Either that or there'd been a long odds coincidence and some fellow in a raincoat had chosen that day to walk near the school grounds. Whatever, it was a turn in the conversation to take advantage of. "Would you like to show me where you saw him?" I asked her. "If you can spare the time." "Yes, I can certainly do that. This way, Phil." Here was a fine way to start a new job, strolling across the school grounds with this very attractive teacher and another hour before I had to make my last point for the afternoon shift. Mind you, I was squinting sideways at her and trying to guess whether she'd been telling the truth about seeing a man in a raincoat, or whether she was just using it as an excuse for us to go off together. Not that I was likely to be that lucky. Then she said something which grabbed my attention like a punch in the nuts during a rugby tackle. "You know, Phil, I've always wondered what the best thing is that a woman can do if she gets trapped in an alley by one of those raincoat perverts. Should she fight him or do what he wants?" Hey hey, it seemed like the instructor had been right on the money with his advice about how to get an interesting conversation going. "It depends," I answered. "Of course the police force has to be careful about what it says to the public. There'd be all kinds of an outcry if they suggested that women shouldn't try to call for help or put up a fight. But the truth is that if there's not much chance of getting help and you're dealing with some nutcase who seems strong and determined, it may be best to offer him some co-operation. For a while, anyway, until you get your chance to break away." She turned her head towards me with her lips curved up quizzically: "What exactly do you mean by co-operating?" We'd reached the back of the school buildings by then. There was a narrow strip of grass, a pathway, a hedge which presumably marked the limit of the school grounds and a head high brick enclosure with dustbins inside it. "There's nobody around here after the children leave. Only the teachers leaving on their own when they've finished for the day in their classrooms," Anna told me. "I worry sometimes about that. Suppose one of those characters was hanging around and he was the dangerous type?" I certainly wasn't going to downplay any possible threat from a prowling pervert, not with the way Anna had been talking before. After all, it was my excuse for walking around with her. So I made something of a display of looking inside the bin enclosure. "This is a bad spot, Anna. If one of your lady teachers got pulled in here behind these walls nobody would be able to see what was going on. Is there anywhere else around here which could be dangerous? You know, where somebody might be lurking?" Again, I was being hopeful, but one thing was sure, there was no chance of getting a whiff of romance anywhere near the smell coming out of those bins. Anna looked up at me from underneath her fringe of tinted hair and whatever was causing the gleam in her eyes had my adam's apple rubbing hard against the tunic's stiff collar. All of a sudden that collar seemed to be making breathing a lot more difficult. "There's the boiler room, Phil. It doesn't get used in the summer and sometimes the school caretaker is careless about keeping the door locked." "Perhaps we should take a look at it then?" She nodded and led me towards a green door. As I expected it was locked, but what I wanted to see was if Anna would just walk away after she'd checked it. She didn't, she looked back at me and winked, then reached up to the top of the doorframe and took down a brass yale key. As she bent down slightly to put the key in the lock I was presented with a chance to make a longer and more considered examination of the teacher's finely rounded stern. A work of art, a genuine work of art, and wouldn't I just love to unveil it for a private showing. 'Careful, lad, careful', I whispered to myself. Not only did the tunic collar feel as if it was choking me, but I was starting to rub against my blue serge uniform somewhere else. I took off the helmet and held it front of me, trying to think about things that had nothing to do with women. Because I could get myself into real trouble if I was misreading the signals here. A lot of trouble. "Perhaps you should go first, Phil," Anna suggested. Why not? I went in, into a long room which was gloomy after the sunlight outside. There were only two small windows, on each side, close against the brick walls of neighboring buildings and high up because there was a boiler set against the wall on each side of me. I walked down the aisle between them and glanced at the valve handles and dials on each of the round white painted cylinders. It was something like being inside the engine room of a ship. Behind me I heard Anna's heels clicking on the worn lino. My cock was still refusing to drain and droop. Perhaps because of the lingering effect of Anna's perfume that had filled my nostrils as I'd brushed past her. Maybe if I thought about ships instead of the teacher -- but all that came into my mind were images of clouds of steam and huge thrusting pistons. By God, there were problems about being a copper I'd never thought of. Like finding ways of concealing hard evidence from certain highly fuckable members of the public. Then I looked behind the boilers. A basin and a draining board against the end wall, a steel locker, a table with rose patterned oil cloth, a wooden kitchen chair and an old purplish armchair, very low and battered and worn out. Exactly the sort of snug little private set up that every caretaker has somewhere for his meal breaks. "Take a seat, Phil," Anna said. Her hand was clearly indicating the armchair. "But could I borrow your truncheon, please? Before you sit down." "My truncheon?" I couldn't make any sense at all of that request. "Yes, please. I think I might need it as a kind of prop. For educational instruction." God help me, I was nearly stupid enough to ask her what kind of instruction. I might have done if my jaw hadn't been hanging so far down in astonishment. Still, there was only the two of us there and it hardly seemed likely I was in danger of getting bludgeoned to death by a lady school teacher. So I lifted up the side of my tunic and pulled out the foot long piece of polished wood with the county force badge on it. At the same time I was still trying to cover up my bulging groin, using the helmet like a matador waving around a red cape to distract attention away from his sword. I offered the head teacher the truncheon, handle end first, and then sat down on the armchair. Right down on the armchair, with the weak springs collapsing underneath my considerable weight until my backside was only a foot or two above the floor. And what did Mrs Morrison do? What she did was to take the other chair, the ordinary wooden one. She set it down in front of me, in front and up close, and then sat down on it, her skirt drawing up high enough for me to get an excellent view of her knees and higher yet. Of course, the ideal position to appreciate the display would have been to have my eyes at the same level as her knees -- which was about where they were. Now you might think that I'd have been taking a good long look at those knees and the appreciable amount of leg on display above them, but you'd be wrong. Because Anna was holding my truncheon in her lap, upright and looking down at it as she polished it with a carefully folded and spotless white handkerchief -- that caught my attention, I can tell you, even down to the blue lace edging on the handkerchief. In fact it was the way she was polishing it, with her fingers and handkerchief completely encircling the truncheon, and then sliding the ring of white fabric up and down the length of the weapon. The action was exactly the same as if she was jerking a man off. I couldn't stop myself from grunting and clutching at the helmet in my own lap. Anna looked up and smiled again. A long slow one: "You don't mind me giving it a rub for you, do you, Phil? Just for luck." "No, I don't mind at all." It sounded as if I was croaking, the way my throat had tightened up. "That's good. You see, I wanted to hear some more of your advice about what's the best thing a woman can do if she gets trapped by one of those perverts." "Oh." It came out more like a groan than a spoken word as the teacher gave my truncheon another brisk rub. And underneath my helmet a genie was straining to pop out. "You know, one of those sort who won't take no for an answer. Do you think doing this for him might . . . . you know, satisfy him?" The teacher put the handkerchief aside, placed her fingertips in a row up and down the side of the truncheon, pressed her thumb against the other side and worked her hand up and down the entire length of it again. "You know what I mean, don't you, Phil? What sort of a stupid question was that? "Yes. I know what you mean." "Do you think that would make a man happy, if I did it for him?" "It would make me happy, Anna, I know that. Very, very happy." I had to lift a finger up to that damned collar and tug on it. Not only did I feel as if I was choking, I could feel my face turning red. Anna paused for her second in her handiwork to look at me again. A kind of arch look from underneath that fringe of hair over her forehead. "A good looking young chap like you, Phil, you wouldn't be interested in anything an older woman like me could do for you -- would you?" "For God's sake, Anna, you're absolutely bloody gorgeous," I croaked. "And if you keep on doing that in front of me I'll go mad." She giggled, gave the truncheon another stroking, then held it up higher, narrowed her eyes, pursed her red lips and blew a gentle stream of air across the rounded top. Not as much air as I blew out though. The teacher watched my reaction with amused eyes and then looked down at the helmet I was still holding on my lap. "Phil, I always wondered why they made police helmets in that odd shape." She giggled like a drunken schoolgirl. "Now perhaps I know. You haven't got another truncheon hidden away under there, have you?" The Beat Meet THIS STORY IS INTENDED FOR ADULT READING ONLY Evening, all. There's nothing like an old time copper . . . or, at least, there's nothing like the fun and games the old time coppers used to get up to. This is the way it used to be when PC stood for Police Constable instead of Political Correctness. --------------------------------- When I see the crap that police officers have to put up with today I'm glad I'm retired. The fancy cars and the high tech gear they have now doesn't make up for being a police service instead of a police force. That's what we used to be, a force, a police force with a uniform that was respected by everybody, criminals and the public alike. When I remember how it was . . . well, it was great. Being a copper used to be the best job in this country. If you don't believe me, I'll tell you the story of my first day on the job. That's right, the first time on the beat. Straight out of training school I was and sent to a small market town in the Midlands. The local station found me lodgings with a lady old enough to be my mother but a brilliant cook and some desires that her husband wasn't satisfying at all. Not that I found out about that until later, I was happy enough to start our acquaintance with a breakfast that would have fed a family of gypsies. Not that any of it got wasted -- I was a big lad, six foot two, with shoulders as wide as a barn door and a lot of muscle from playing rugby every chance I got. Aye, I was what they call well presented, with a grin that a lot of people described as cheeky. Just a big overgrown boy hardly out of my teens, putting on a old fashioned uniform with a silly helmet and boots on my feet heavy enough to crush stones into gravel. Still, when I looked in the mirror I thought I looked pretty smart, what with that big silver crowned badge above my head, a row of shiny buttons down my high necked blue tunic and a silver whistle chain tucked into the top left pocket. What I was soon to find out was how many doors that uniform could open. Like I say, the force was well respected in those days. So, everything straight and tidy for public display and then down to the station. Not a big place but big enough to handle the routine work in the town, with a sergeant in charge. He was as big as I was, but a lot older, a fellow named Hanson. A steady sort, but not a man to take any nonsense. I spent most of the morning learning the office routine and then the sergeant took me for a stroll around the town. I got shown most of the local places of interest and especially where the phone boxes where located. No pocket radios in those days. What you did on patrol was to make 'points'. That meant waiting outside a designated phone box at a specified time, usually for about five minutes, so that if the station needed you for anything they could ring through. After we'd done the tour Sergeant Hanson said he'd leave me on my own for a while to keep on patrolling. He made sure I knew my point times for the rest of the shift and then went back to the station. I guess that wouldn't happen nowadays, a young copper on his first day left in the streets on his own with no radio and no weapon except a wooden truncheon. But that was then and nobody in his right mind tried to make trouble for the force in those days -- not unless he wanted to find out how heavy those police boots could be when they stamped down on something. No, there weren't any problems, the sun was shining, the locals were nodding respectfully at me, most of them spotting straight away I was new in the area. Then a smart young lass stopped for a chat and I was happy to oblige. In fact, that was what the Sergeant had told me to do, to talk to the locals as much as possible and get to know them. If this was the first one, that was fine with me. She said her name was Angela and I was welcome to stop by her house for a cup of tea whenever I wanted to. Of course being invited in for a cup of tea was something anybody would do for a stranger and it didn't necessarily mean more than common politeness. Especially considering the pram Angela was pushing. Still, I made a note of her address anyway. You never knew your luck with the ladies, that was my belief. To tell the truth I was starting to enjoy myself, with the attention the uniform was getting. Or maybe it was the way I was filling it out. And then there was a scuffle near a pub with a couple of drunks being silly, but not so silly that they didn't scoot off around the corner like long dogs as soon as they saw me coming. The landlord invited me in for a drink on the house, which I didn't dare do, in case Hanson came back. But I was full of myself, feeling like Wyatt Earp on the streets of Tombstone after the last gunslinger had been carried off to Boot Hill. Well, I was as young and green as they come. Anyway, I made another point. The phone in the kiosk didn't ring so I continued patrolling and then noticed I was walking past a school. The kids were streaming out at the end of the day, with the younger ones being collected by their mothers. All except one woman who was left hanging around the gates after the rush was over. "Hello, officer," she said to me, matching the words with a smile that straightaway tickled my fancy. Oh, yes, this one was well worth passing the time of day with. The top of her reddish tinted hair was a clear foot below my shoulders, with a curl over her forehead and the rest worn long. Her face was pleasant without being really pretty, the nose was a trifle too big for that, but her eyes were green and bold, with a very vivid shade of lipstick on her smiling mouth. She had to be easily ten years older than me, more likely fifteen, so the breasts underneath the red and white floral shirt she was wearing deserved the mature plumpness the fabric clung to very nicely. Neither was there much amiss from there on down, with a bright red skirt which was drawn taut over a slightly plump belly and hips far enough apart for a man to settle onto in comfort. What was more, the skirt hemline was above her knees, high enough to be about as far as a respectable married woman could go in those days. Oh yes, I spotted that drawback straight away, the wedding ring on her left hand but apart from that it seemed to me that here was the kind of fancy piece I'd love to have a few drinks with in a pub. By Christ, I'd have bought this one her booze all night in return for a chance to see those tits getting shaken around. Married or not, I was going to hang around within leering distance of this fine looking lady as long as I could, especially if she kept smiling at me the way she was now. "Hello," I answered. "Waiting to collect somebody from the school, are you?" She smiled again: "No, no, I'm Anna Morrison, the head teacher here, just making sure all our little darlings get collected safely." "You're a teacher?" She seemed slightly puzzled at my question: "Yes. Any reason why I shouldn't be?" "No, no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything," I said. "It's only, when I was at school, all our female teachers . . . well, none of them looked anything at all like you. If they had, being kept back at school would have been a pleasure instead of a punishment, believe me." She laughed, a deep throaty laugh that made my toes curl. Then she said: "Oh, I see. Well, you've just talked yourself out having to write any lines for being a naughty boy. I haven't seen you before, have I?" "No, you haven't, Mrs Morrison. It's my first day in town. I'm Constable Rogers. Phil Rodgers." "Pleased to meet you, Phil. Please call me Anna." She shook my hand as if she was afraid that I'd break the bones in hers. "My, you are a big fellow, aren't you, Phil?" Mmmm . . . and for all her apparent hesitancy in putting her hand in mine it seemed as if she'd squeezed it for longer than had been quite necessary. "Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?" That sounded like a good idea, a chance to get to know her better but it suddenly occurred to me that here was a chance to try out a trick that one of the instructors at the training school had tipped us off about. He'd said that if ever we met a woman we thought might be willing for some fun and games, the best thing to do was to tell her there was a flasher fooling around in her neighborhood. Either she'd be frightened or she'd be interested, and the more interested the better. Either way, you'd soon find out what sort of a woman she was. Whatever else I might have missed at the school there was no chance I'd forget that lesson. Of course, a middle aged married school teacher was hardly likely to be up for a frolic but this seemed like a good chance to test the theory. "Thank you, Anna, but somebody has told me there's a suspicious looking character in the area. I thought perhaps I should take a stroll around the back of the school buildings just to see if I can see anything. If anybody was there he's probably gone by now, but you never know." "Oh. What was suspicious about him?" "Well, he was wearing a raincoat for one thing, which seems a bit odd with the weather as warm as it is today." I winked at her. "If you get my meaning." "Oh," she said again, but in a knowing tone. "Oh, one of those, hey? Wanting to show himself off to some of the children, you think?" "I don't about know that, but it might be possible." Anna nodded. "Come to think of it, I saw somebody round the other side of the school this afternoon. Somebody wearing a raincoat, I mean. It seemed a bit odd at the time." Which was a statement that set me right back on my heels. Here I was making up a story and here was this woman making up another one of her own to match it. Either that or there'd been a long odds coincidence and some fellow in a raincoat had chosen that day to walk near the school grounds. Whatever, it was a turn in the conversation to take advantage of. "Would you like to show me where you saw him?" I asked her. "If you can spare the time." "Yes, I can certainly do that. This way, Phil." Here was a fine way to start a new job, strolling across the school grounds with this very attractive teacher and another hour before I had to make my last point for the afternoon shift. Mind you, I was squinting sideways at her and trying to guess whether she'd been telling the truth about seeing a man in a raincoat, or whether she was just using it as an excuse for us to go off together. Not that I was likely to be that lucky. Then she said something which grabbed my attention like a punch in the nuts during a rugby tackle. "You know, Phil, I've always wondered what the best thing is that a woman can do if she gets trapped in an alley by one of those raincoat perverts. Should she fight him or do what he wants?" Hey hey, it seemed like the instructor had been right on the money with his advice about how to get an interesting conversation going. "It depends," I answered. "Of course the police force has to be careful about what it says to the public. There'd be all kinds of an outcry if they suggested that women shouldn't try to call for help or put up a fight. But the truth is that if there's not much chance of getting help and you're dealing with some nutcase who seems strong and determined, it may be best to offer him some co-operation. For a while, anyway, until you get your chance to break away." She turned her head towards me with her lips curved up quizzically: "What exactly do you mean by co-operating?" We'd reached the back of the school buildings by then. There was a narrow strip of grass, a pathway, a hedge which presumably marked the limit of the school grounds and a head high brick enclosure with dustbins inside it. "There's nobody around here after the children leave. Only the teachers leaving on their own when they've finished for the day in their classrooms," Anna told me. "I worry sometimes about that. Suppose one of those characters was hanging around and he was the dangerous type?" I certainly wasn't going to downplay any possible threat from a prowling pervert, not with the way Anna had been talking before. After all, it was my excuse for walking around with her. So I made something of a display of looking inside the bin enclosure. "This is a bad spot, Anna. If one of your lady teachers got pulled in here behind these walls nobody would be able to see what was going on. Is there anywhere else around here which could be dangerous? You know, where somebody might be lurking?" Again, I was being hopeful, but one thing was sure, there was no chance of getting a whiff of romance anywhere near the smell coming out of those bins. Anna looked up at me from underneath her fringe of tinted hair and whatever was causing the gleam in her eyes had my adam's apple rubbing hard against the tunic's stiff collar. All of a sudden that collar seemed to be making breathing a lot more difficult. "There's the boiler room, Phil. It doesn't get used in the summer and sometimes the school caretaker is careless about keeping the door locked." "Perhaps we should take a look at it then?" She nodded and led me towards a green door. As I expected it was locked, but what I wanted to see was if Anna would just walk away after she'd checked it. She didn't, she looked back at me and winked, then reached up to the top of the doorframe and took down a brass yale key. As she bent down slightly to put the key in the lock I was presented with a chance to make a longer and more considered examination of the teacher's finely rounded stern. A work of art, a genuine work of art, and wouldn't I just love to unveil it for a private showing. 'Careful, lad, careful', I whispered to myself. Not only did the tunic collar feel as if it was choking me, but I was starting to rub against my blue serge uniform somewhere else. I took off the helmet and held it front of me, trying to think about things that had nothing to do with women. Because I could get myself into real trouble if I was misreading the signals here. A lot of trouble. "Perhaps you should go first, Phil," Anna suggested. Why not? I went in, into a long room which was gloomy after the sunlight outside. There were only two small windows, on each side, close against the brick walls of neighboring buildings and high up because there was a boiler set against the wall on each side of me. I walked down the aisle between them and glanced at the valve handles and dials on each of the round white painted cylinders. It was something like being inside the engine room of a ship. Behind me I heard Anna's heels clicking on the worn lino. My cock was still refusing to drain and droop. Perhaps because of the lingering effect of Anna's perfume that had filled my nostrils as I'd brushed past her. Maybe if I thought about ships instead of the teacher -- but all that came into my mind were images of clouds of steam and huge thrusting pistons. By God, there were problems about being a copper I'd never thought of. Like finding ways of concealing hard evidence from certain highly fuckable members of the public. Then I looked behind the boilers. A basin and a draining board against the end wall, a steel locker, a table with rose patterned oil cloth, a wooden kitchen chair and an old purplish armchair, very low and battered and worn out. Exactly the sort of snug little private set up that every caretaker has somewhere for his meal breaks. "Take a seat, Phil," Anna said. Her hand was clearly indicating the armchair. "But could I borrow your truncheon, please? Before you sit down." "My truncheon?" I couldn't make any sense at all of that request. "Yes, please. I think I might need it as a kind of prop. For educational instruction." God help me, I was nearly stupid enough to ask her what kind of instruction. I might have done if my jaw hadn't been hanging so far down in astonishment. Still, there was only the two of us there and it hardly seemed likely I was in danger of getting bludgeoned to death by a lady school teacher. So I lifted up the side of my tunic and pulled out the foot long piece of polished wood with the county force badge on it. At the same time I was still trying to cover up my bulging groin, using the helmet like a matador waving around a red cape to distract attention away from his sword. I offered the head teacher the truncheon, handle end first, and then sat down on the armchair. Right down on the armchair, with the weak springs collapsing underneath my considerable weight until my backside was only a foot or two above the floor. And what did Mrs Morrison do? What she did was to take the other chair, the ordinary wooden one. She set it down in front of me, in front and up close, and then sat down on it, her skirt drawing up high enough for me to get an excellent view of her knees and higher yet. Of course, the ideal position to appreciate the display would have been to have my eyes at the same level as her knees -- which was about where they were. Now you might think that I'd have been taking a good long look at those knees and the appreciable amount of leg on display above them, but you'd be wrong. Because Anna was holding my truncheon in her lap, upright and looking down at it as she polished it with a carefully folded and spotless white handkerchief -- that caught my attention, I can tell you, even down to the blue lace edging on the handkerchief. In fact it was the way she was polishing it, with her fingers and handkerchief completely encircling the truncheon, and then sliding the ring of white fabric up and down the length of the weapon. The action was exactly the same as if she was jerking a man off. I couldn't stop myself from grunting and clutching at the helmet in my own lap. Anna looked up and smiled again. A long slow one: "You don't mind me giving it a rub for you, do you, Phil? Just for luck." "No, I don't mind at all." It sounded as if I was croaking, the way my throat had tightened up. "That's good. You see, I wanted to hear some more of your advice about what's the best thing a woman can do if she gets trapped by one of those perverts." "Oh." It came out more like a groan than a spoken word as the teacher gave my truncheon another brisk rub. And underneath my helmet a genie was straining to pop out. "You know, one of those sort who won't take no for an answer. Do you think doing this for him might . . . . you know, satisfy him?" The teacher put the handkerchief aside, placed her fingertips in a row up and down the side of the truncheon, pressed her thumb against the other side and worked her hand up and down the entire length of it again. "You know what I mean, don't you, Phil? What sort of a stupid question was that? "Yes. I know what you mean." "Do you think that would make a man happy, if I did it for him?" "It would make me happy, Anna, I know that. Very, very happy." I had to lift a finger up to that damned collar and tug on it. Not only did I feel as if I was choking, I could feel my face turning red. Anna paused for her second in her handiwork to look at me again. A kind of arch look from underneath that fringe of hair over her forehead. "A good looking young chap like you, Phil, you wouldn't be interested in anything an older woman like me could do for you -- would you?" "For God's sake, Anna, you're absolutely bloody gorgeous," I croaked. "And if you keep on doing that in front of me I'll go mad." She giggled, gave the truncheon another stroking, then held it up higher, narrowed her eyes, pursed her red lips and blew a gentle stream of air across the rounded top. Not as much air as I blew out though. The teacher watched my reaction with amused eyes and then looked down at the helmet I was still holding on my lap. "Phil, I always wondered why they made police helmets in that odd shape." She giggled like a drunken schoolgirl. "Now perhaps I know. You haven't got another truncheon hidden away under there, have you?" The Beat Meet "You show me yours and I'll show you mine." I offered. "My what, Phil?" Anna's green eyes remained fixed on my face as she moved the tip of the truncheon closer to her mouth and dabbed at it with her tongue. She looked like a cat lapping up a bowl of cream. And if I hadn't been trapped inside that collapsing wreck of a chair I'd have pounced on her. No normal man could be expected to ignore that kind of cock teasing. What in hell's name sort of teacher was this? "If I was going to do what I wanted to with you, Anna, the first thing I'd do would be to tell you to take off your shirt." "Well . . . " She seemed to be thinking about the idea.. "You first. Show me what's under that helmet." I lifted up the helmet and dropped it on the floor. Anna's green eyes seemed to widen as she looked down at the bulge underneath my fly buttons. "Good lord, am I responsible for that?" "Yes, of course you bloody well are, woman. You think I can watch you licking that thing without getting a stonking great stalk on!" The teacher laughed and lowered the truncheon. "Well, I'd better stop inflaming your passions then. But I did make a promise. Do you still want me to take my shirt off?" "God, yes, please!" I didn't care what I said as long as she did it. And if she did, if she got undressed with me sitting there watching her, nobody could blame me afterwards for starting anything. "Oh, well, if it's to help the police with their enquiries, I suppose that's all right. But wouldn't it be more comfortable if you undid your fly buttons? Or shall I undo them for you?" "Please. Yes, please, Anna." "All right then, Phil. We'll let your pet out for some fresh air, but only if he promises not to bite me." She laughed again, picked up the kitchen chair and moved it closer to the armchair. When she sat down, those enticing knees were pressed against mine and Anna was leaning forward over my legs, her long fingernails working at my top button. It was tight and difficult to undo. The next one was even tighter and took even longer for her to unfasten. My opened hands found themselves sliding up along her arms and up to her shoulders. Anna gasped as I massaged them all. "Careful, officer. You don't know your own strength and I need to concentrate on this job -- there that's another one undone. Phil, are you not wearing anything under this uniform?" "No," I confessed. "I never wear any underpants. I don't think they're healthy." "Well, everything I can see so far seems very healthy." The head of my cock was poking up out of my trousers, the rest of the shaft still hidden in them like a periscope in the sea. The teacher's fingers were exploring the whole appendage though, running over the serge uniform as if she wanted to know how much still remained to come to the surface. Perhaps Anna was impressed, because she gasped. Or perhaps she gasped because my hands had dropped lower, to help her bra in supporting the weight of those big, matronly breasts. And I can tell you they felt wonderful, resting in the palms of my hands as if they were over ripe fruit ready to have the juice slowly squeezed out of them. "Phil, thank you, but I can't see what I'm doing with your arms in the way." Anna said, as if I was only holding a door open for her. I let go of her tits. But I promised myself I'd be back. The teacher sighed and bent forward again, unfastening another fly button. My cock was still half trapped though, still pointing back with the eye at the top looking up at me. Anna lifted up her right hand, dabbed the top of her right index finger with her tongue, then put the finger down and pressed the tip lightly onto the bottom of my cock's head, on the border between the smooth curve and my circumcised foreskin. I moaned and gripped her shoulders again. It felt as if my collar was now five sizes smaller than it had been. "Is that the first kiss it's had in this town, Phil?" "Yes. And God, it felt good." Again I heard that deep throated laugh. "I bet it won't be the last. I'm sure a worm this size will soon be getting some nibbles from the local girls. Just be careful one of them doesn't put a hook in it." She quickly unfastened the last two fly buttons and my best friend stood up free and unfettered, although he was leaning to one side like the Tower of Pisa. Until Anna put both her hands on the shaft, one above the other and held my prick straight. Then she leaned back, still keeping the double grip, her arms straight out and down in front of her. "My God," she whispered, "It ought to have a brass plate on it: 'This monument was raised by pubic subscription'. Phil, do you know why good time girls used to wear lipstick in ancient Rome?" "No." What the fuck was she talking about? "It was so they could find out which of them could fellate a man the deepest. By seeing which shade of lipstick was spread the furthest along his penis. They'd have a real challenge here, wouldn't they?" "Nobody ever taught that kind of thing in my history classes," I said with absolute truth. "I wish they had. It would have made school a lot more interesting." Anna kept me straight up and down with her left hand while she used her right one to stroke my cock as she had done the truncheon. My brain seemed to be swelling up and trying to push my eyes out of their sockets. "Phil, the only thing you need to know about history is that might is right. And I like strong men who take what they want. Why don't you pretend I used to be one of your teachers and this is your chance to get your own back for every punishment I ever gave you?" I could hardly believe my ears -- nothing remotely like this had ever happened to me in my life before. But if there was ever a time for asking for an invitation to be repeated, this certainly wasn't it. One grab of her wrist, another at her elbow, a good pull and Anna was sprawling down on top of me, face down and gasping as I maneuvered her around until I had that plump derriere across my knees. A gift from lady luck, and I thanked her with a laying on of hands rite. Well, one palm, actually, slamming down half a dozen times, and every one connecting hard, hard enough to raise a cloud of dust if there had been any in that tight red skirt. What was underneath it was certainly smarting because Anna began bellowing after every slap. It had something of the sound of a cow overdue for a milking and I hoped to God there was nobody within earshot. "Pax, pax, you big brute," she pleaded. I stopped laying on the heavy ones and gave her some love taps instead, spacing them out with plenty of firm rubbing over each quivering haunch. The head teacher was squirming around and moaning, her hipbone rubbing up against my own boner. Jesus, I couldn't keep this game up for much longer. My hand came down again, one blow, but at full strength, hard enough for Mrs Morrison to bounce forward several inches and kick her high heels up off the floor. "Yeoow!! No, no, please, Phil. I'll do anything you want me to, anything." "Stand up." She huffed and puffed getting back onto her feet, although she made the movement about as quickly as she could and I didn't mind, much, because I had a chance to grab a quick feel of a tit as Anna was rising. No wonder she was struggling, with all that top hamper to lift up. "Shirt off." Anna kept giggling, standing by the side of the chair and undoing her buttons as I stroked the backs of her knees. The hot silky patches of skin underneath her tights trembled, then even more so as I lifted up the hem of her skirt on the top of my hand. My fingers swirled higher up her left calf. The shirt came off, sliding along her arms in an untidy bunch of flower patterned fabric. Sliding along, removed and tossed over the back of the kitchen chair without Anna moving a step. Underneath the shirt was a massive pair of low cut blue bra cups with a pink ribbon sewn in a bow between them, not to mention enough cleavage for a ferret to hide in. Anna looked down, ran her hands over the cups and purred. It sounded like the voice over for one of those ads about putting a tiger in your fuel tank. In my case, getting a tigress to give you a wank. At the very back of my mind was the notion that it would be interesting to make a few inquiries about Mr Morrison. I could easily imagine him as prematurely bent and aged, the used up remains of a strong man married to a stronger woman who was permanently on heat. But this didn't seem like a good time to mention him. Without waiting for any order from me Anna began unbuttoning and unzipping the top of her skirt. I grabbed at the bottom of it and tugged the waistband down over her wide hips. The sight of the head teacher twisting around like a Turkish belly dancer as she wriggled herself out of the skirt's waistband was completely illegal -- an incitement to riotous behavior if ever there was one. The skirt suddenly began falling of its own weight, down and down, over my hand and arm, then ending up in a pile around Anna's feet. She kicked it aside, laughed, knelt down by the side of the chair and leaned forward over the armrest. The tip of a warm wet tongue touched me where her finger had before. "Do you know much latin, Phil?" God, that collar was strangling me! "No." I croaked. "Well, if anybody ever asks you, fellatio is the past principle of the latin word fellare, which means to suck. Do you think I can do something to help you remember that?" "Yes. Yes, I think you can help me remember that!" Suddenly I was looking down at a mass of red hair and good old John Thomas was getting a generous coating of lipstick around his head and collar. This was incredible! But what would happen if I was late for my point and the station wanted me to speak to me? Missing on my first day? My police career would be over within twenty four hours. But here was a chance to sneak a quick look at my watch without offending the very friendly lady, and it said I still had thirty minutes in hand. Christ, not much time to waste. Still, while Anna was seeing how far down she could leave a strawberry tidemark I did something useful by unhooking the back of her bra. Anna responded by increasing the stroke rate of her latin lesson. Maybe there were some useful things to learn by studying history. But then she halfway stood up before crawling forward over my lap and settling back down on it in the same position as she had been before. Only this time there was no red skirt ready for punishment but a pair of tightly stretched blue panties underneath her dark colored tights. OK, if Anna wanted to feel the heavy hand of the law again, so be it. One left, one right, one on the bullseye, and then again, pinning her down across those fine hips with the flat of my left arm as I paddled her rump with the right. Lots of yelps and groans -- look right and see a pair of high heels kicking up at the ceiling, look left and catch a glimpse of the teachers bra strap tangled around her elbow and the side of a plump unfettered breast which seemed to be bouncing up and down off the floor. By God, I'd bet the boys in this school would have paid up their pocket money for the rest of their lives to watch this. And it was still only the beginning. Or maybe I'd fallen off the bus to work this morning and I was in a coma and dreaming all of this. Dream or reality, there was no time to waste, not with the watch ticking away. I heard Anna call out in encouragement as I grabbed hold of the top of the panties. A tug, another harder one, until the panties were tangled up with the tights in a roll that I pulled clear of her buttocks and right down to her knees. The fat white half moons of her arse seemed to be fighting each other as Anna squirmed around on top of my knees like an excited puppy. I noticed with some interest a thumb shaped birthmark on her left buttock. God, but I was a good copper -- the first day on the beat and already I was picking up on useful identification features. But now it was my turn to let the public know that the force was always willing to lend a hand. This time I gave Anna several genuinely crisp slaps, hard enough to leave a red patch after each one with the sound of bare flesh on bare flesh echoing around the room. And if you've never had a fine figure of a head teacher slung across your lap and squealing for mercy, well, you've missed an interesting experience. Then I varied the assault by flattening my right hand and pushing it down between her thighs, the top finger brushing against the patch of wet moss buried deep in the top of the crevice. At the same time I reached out with my other hand, grabbing a handful of tit which included a nipple as big and hard as a walnut. Anna arched her back like a diver going off a board and whimpered. "Jesus, yes! Bring me off!" "Seeing as how I've got a frenchie in my tunic pocket, how about I fuck you instead?" "Yes! That's it, fuck me silly, Phil!" "Get up then." I thought I'd have trouble lifting myself out of that collapsed chair but it's amazing what you can do when you're hormones are motivated. It might as well have been an ejector seat by the way I shot up into the air and landed on my feet. But Anna dead heated me by sitting down on the kitchen table as quickly as I'd got up and tugging her panties and tights down over those knees I'd been admiring so much only a few moments before. As eager as I was to undo that damned collar, it seemed the right thing to do to kneel down and take a moment to get rid of those underthings completely, hauling them off and flinging them to one side. And as they left my hand a couple of warm bra cups dropped on top of my head, with Anna giggling at the joke. They got thrown away as well, my hands went underneath the teacher's knees and I spread her legs open so I could get my mouth where it would do the most good. The next time Anna laughed, she had some reason for it. She was wet and hot and her clit was standing up like a sentry looking out of a trench before I pushed it down and around with my tongue. There was a kind of a screeching noise then, so high pitched and going on for so long I really wondered if one of the boilers was blowing off a safety valve. But since they weren't even lit and since a lot of fingers were scratching at my close cut hair I assumed that Anna was responsible for the noise. I also decided I'd better stop what I was doing before somebody heard her and called the police station to report a murder in progress. So I leaned back into a direct eyeball to nipple confrontation as I tried to set a record for unbuttoning a uniform tunic. Anna opened her legs and leaned forward, holding up her tits from below as if she was trying to sell them to me in a market place. A giant economy sized offer that would have been, because she had the biggest pair I'd ever set eyes on in the raw, lightly tanned all over I noticed, and if they weren't in the first bloom of youth they still looked pretty sprightly. The nipples were nearly as big as the tops of strawberry ice cream cones and looked even more delicious. I'd only managed to unfasten my collar hooks so far but that was a great relief and I couldn't help but take a second to pinch each of those swollen tips. Nice and hard too, and I saw Anna's eyes and mouth make big round O's as her nerve endings got jazzed up. Which was a chance that was even more tempting. I stood up, grabbed the back of her head and pulled her mouth towards me for another run up and down the scales. Nothing needed explaining: one set of fingers stroking underneath my balls, another pair holding the base of my prick steady, and the head teacher was giving me more head than I'd ever had before. God, what couldn't I do with this mad bitch given enough time? Handcuffs, a cane and a long lazy afternoon in front of a camera and she'd be my slave for life. And I thought I'd been sent to the quietest, dullest, most boring town between the Wash and Wales! It was like lighting a cracker on bonfire night and then suddenly realizing you had holding a stick of dynamite with the fuse burning down. Except there was no way of I was going to let go of Anna until she exploded -- or I did. Which was something that was certain to happen very soon. "Anna, wait, wait!" I felt around in one of my tunic pockets, pulled out the french letter and ripped the top of the packet off with my teeth. "Here, put this on me. Slowly, damn you, slowly." For a while it seemed I was never going to undo that tunic. Eight buttons, eight big silver buttons, eight bloody great buttons, with my clumsy fingers feeling like a bunch of bananas as I struggled to undo them and Anna laughing down below as she unrolled the rubber along my prick. Inch by inch, her fingers squeezing and pushing against the resistance of the sheath until it was as far back as it was ever going to go. "Oh God!" she called out. "Only I could end up getting seduced by a policeman with a plumber's friend for a sexual organ. I can't do anything with this thing!" Then she used her lips again to make sure there were no little bubbles anywhere. Typical woman, one mouth and two different messages coming from it at the same time. "Fucking hell . . . " The last button finally popped through the last buttonhole, the tunic went wherever everything else had gone, and I was hauling up by her hair. Not wanting to hurt her, mind, only to get her into position. Anna grunted with pain but came along willingly, pushed backwards onto the table, arching up with her legs wide open and her hands clasped around the tops of her breasts as though they were going to try to escape. Which was a reasonable precaution because I was going to do my best to bounce them off the ceiling. I ripped my braces off my shoulders, bent down in front of the kitchen chair and grabbed Anna's high heels, gripping one of them between my teeth and lifting up her left foot to slip the other one back on. "Christ, what are you doing, Phil?" "Mmmmmm." "Take that bloody thing out of your mouth . . . " "It's OK." I put the other shoe back where it had been. "It's just that I like to fuck women with them still wearing their shoes." I lifted up her heels and spread her legs apart to rest on my shoulders. Anna was having some kind of hysterical fit of laughter: "This never happened to Cinderella" I guided the tip of my cock between her swollen cunt lips and pushed it into the yielding flesh. "Then try this for a happy ending." Anna stopped laughing and called out: "Yes, yes!" slapping her hands down on the table top on each side of her body. I took advantage of the opportunity to grab her tits for myself and to haul her towards me with them. At the same time I drove into Anna far enough to make sure everything was lined up properly. The result was an ear splitting screech loud enough to have sent a ship in a fog on an emergency change of course and the table hopped across the smooth floor like a baby kangaroo. Oh yes, and I got a hell of a lot of satisfaction out of the movement. The second time I did it, Anne clapped both her hands over her mouth, opened her eyes twice as wide as usual and locked her heels together behind my neck. And I'd been cursing that collar for being tight! In about no time flat the table was jammed in tight in a corner of the room, I was rammed in tight against Anna, grunting like a drowning pig, and a stream of half muffled yelps was spurting out between her clenched fingers. I also felt as if I was one of those male insects that has its head ripped off by the female during mating. As a teacher, Anna would have made a great trapeze artist, one of those that hang by their ankles from a swinging bar. I must have been mad to put her shoes back on -- if she dug into my back with those high heels I'd be face down in a hospital bed for a weeks. The Beat Meet Mind you, I was mad, completely fucking mad, and that teacher was a lot tighter fit over John Thomas than I'd expected. The first half was easy-peasy, but getting the rest of him past her cunt muscles took some serious effort. I had to lean right forward on top of the trapped woman, bending her knees back towards her face and breaking her anklelock on my neck. Which seemed like a good thing, only she put her arms up and grabbed my ears instead, which was worse. And I had to let go of her tits as I slithered forward. But Christ, wasn't she just squealing and thumping against me as I split her open? Our faces were only inches apart and the smell of her perfume was getting sucked into my nostrils like high octane vapor into an revving engine. But what was the best thing of all, apart from the stroking my cock was getting, was watching her expression. She might be Mrs Anna Morrison, head teacher, a professional and married woman but right then, half an hour after I'd met her, she was a gasping bucking bitch on heat without a thought or a feeling in her except what she was getting from Phil Rodger's huge prick. "Phil! God! I love this!" Those green eyes were wild and rolling around like the plastic ones in a cheap doll when it gets shaken. Here, without doubt, was a woman getting the best fuck she'd ever had in her life and totally mind blown because of it. I knew that she'd never forget what I was doing to her on top of this table: I also knew that from now on she'd be panting to spread herself out underneath me whenever I offered her the chance. Christ, this was great, but I had to hurry! Well, no problem there. I could feel the pressure in my shaft building up and up, until suddenly it was emptying out into the end of the tunnel that was Anna, and she was baying for the moon and almost tearing my ears off -- God, there were some bad habits I'd have to break her of, but they could wait. It seemed like we'd come together, right on the sweet spot, and you couldn't ask for better than that, especially on a first gallop. With my broadside fired the main battery went limp and so did I, slumping down, and putting my lips into Anna's bellybutton to blow a final triumphant 'brrrrrr.' Then I looked up, between those two soft piles of tit flesh, to see Anna's head rolling slowly from side to side, each roll drawn out with a accompanying moan of satisfaction. If she'd taken the starch out of me it seemed I'd certainly done the same by her. I stood up, my trousers finally sliding all the way down to my ankles and glanced at my watch. No time to waste, I had to get going. But first, just a moment to tease the teacher. I put my hand down to the bottom of her well rounded belly, twisted some of her reddish tinged cunt hairs into a tuft and tugged at it, hard. "Ow." Anna seemed to come back to earth, enough to stare at me, her cheeks as red as her bush."Oh, God, I must have been mad. We must have been mad. Did anybody hear us, you think?" I looked down at her voluptuous body sprawled on top of the table with not a thing on except the high heeled shoes and a thin gold necklace. "Nobody heard me. But you kept going off like an air raid alarm. Look at the state you're in, Anna You look as if you've just been shagged by a shipload of Vikings." "I feel like I've just been shagged by a shipload of Vikings," she answered and giggled again. "Absolutely ravaged, in fact, from head to toe and it's a wonderful feeling. But we mustn't do it here again." I pulled on her hairs again, making her lift her bottom off the table and then let her down again. She moaned, took my free hand and kissed it on the palm. Yes, this was definitely a woman who liked to be put in her place. "No, the next time . . . " I said, then paused. My fingers slid down into her cunt and found her clit. "No, the next time I want you in a loose skirt, a suspender belt and nylons, but no panties, and you'll bring a cane with you. Understand?" Her face flushed even an even deeper shade than it already was as her eyes rolled back. A tiny touch of my hooked finger and her entire body shook as though I'd fired a spark into her. "Phil!" It started out sounding like a protest but finished up as a cry of encouragement. Amazing, what some women can do with even one word. I pulled off the french letter, tied a knot in the end, stretched the rubber right back and let it go, to flick against the teacher's left nipple. She yelped and rubbed the sore spot as I draped the frenchie between her lolling breasts. "That's for holding onto my ears." "Phil . . ." If Anna had been thinking of complaining, the words died on her lips as I slipped my fingers back into her cunt and curled them around to a position where I'd achieved good results with other girls in the past. It was like tickling a trout out of a stream if you could just hit on the right place. When the teacher moaned and tugged on my cock I knew I'd found the right place inside her. Keeping my hand where it was, I stirred up Anna's pot for her until her hips were jerking up and down. "Phil . . .!" Whatever the emotion in the word this time, Anna certainly wasn't complaining. I put my other hand over her mouth and she licked it frantically, then snuffled for air through her nose like a rooting pig as I made her come again. Her fingers squeezed my limp cock so hard I almost squealed myself, the bottom half of her body shot up on the tips of her shoes like a ballet dancer at full stretch and, incredibly, she stayed rigid in mid air for three or four seconds before slumping down on top of the table like a crow shot in the nest. Anna's head slid down into the gap between the end of the table and the wall and taking my hand off her mouth was like uncovering the exhaust inlet on a hard working steam engine. Well, at least she was still breathing. While the teacher was recovering I began frantically pulling on my uniform again. I used her panties to wipe my cock on and then shoved them in my pocket as a trophy. If the job kept on going the way it had started I reckoned I might be able to get together a good collection before long. "Phil? You're going?" Anna was back with me, her head lifted up and her right hand down between her opened legs as she played with herself. God, the bitch was insatiable once she got excited. "I've got to. Otherwise I'll be in real trouble. Sorry." She looked like a kid on Christmas morning waking up to find an empty sock: "What about me?" "It's all right, madam, I'll report you as a victim of a hit and run fucking." Anna laughed, then screwed up her eyes and drew in a deep breath as her fingers worked faster. "But I need another one now," she protested. "Sorry. But you know what they say, the criminal always comes back to the scene of the crime. You can grab him then." "Yes, but for now?" "For now, I've got to go." Anna sat up, slid her legs around, stood up as I struggled to refasten my collar clips. Had I got everything? Helmet, baton? Yes. Ready to go. Which wasn't easy because the head teacher was leaning over the table, her bare bottom towards me and still frigging herself off. It was like looking at the full moon reflected in rippling water because Anna was starting to gasp and wriggle as she got more excited. If it came to that I was getting stiff again myself. Given half a chance I would have been back up her like a rat up a drainpipe. But I didn't have half a chance. Anyway, always leave them wanting more, that was my philosophy. "You want me to bring a cane next time, Phil? You meant that?" God, but she was a glutton for punishment. "That's right, a cane. I'm going to make you beg for your next fuck, Mrs Morrison." Whap! Whap! A left and a right hander, one open handed full strength slap on each fat cheek and I was away, walking off between the boilers and leaving behind a head teacher who sounded as if she was going into labor. I slipped out of the building after making sure nobody was watching, then walked back to the telephone box with steps a yard long and going like the clappers. Got there just as it rang and the sergeant asked why I was out of breath. I said I'd got lost and had to hurry to get back to the box. Then he asked how I was liking the job so far and I said that it wasn't so bad after all. An hour later I was downing a pint of best bitter and wondering if Anna had finally managed to get herself dressed and off home. And next morning my landlady was brushing me down in my bedroom before I went on duty. "You young lads, you don't know the first thing about your own jobs," she said. "In the force, you always dress on the right. Like this." She put down the brush, got hold of my cock and pushed it over onto the right side of my flies. "There, that's the way it should be. But I suppose I'll have to do something about it for you every morning, won't I?" "Yes, Mrs Logan," I agreed. "I suppose you probably will." THE END The Beat Meet THIS STORY IS INTENDED FOR ADULT READING ONLY ------------------------------------------- Evening, all. There's nothing like an old time copper -- and there was nothing like the fun and games that the old time coppers used to get up to. Somebody wrote that a policeman's lot was not an happy one -- but they were wrong. Young coppers used to get a lot, and everybody was very happy. This is the way it used to be when PC stood for Police Constable instead of Political Correctness. -------------------------------------------- When I see the crap that police officers have to put up with today I'm glad I'm retired. The fancy cars and the high tech gear they have now doesn't make up for being a police service instead of a police force. That's what we used to be, a force, a police force with a uniform that was respected by everybody, criminals and the public alike. When I remember how it was . . . well, it was great. Being a copper used to be the best job in this country. If you don't believe me, I'll tell you the story of my first day on the job. That's right, the first time on the beat. Straight out of training school I was and sent to a small market town in the Midlands. The local station found me lodgings with a lady old enough to be my mother but a brilliant cook and some desires that her husband wasn't satisfying at all. Not that I found out about that until later, I was happy enough to start our acquaintance with a breakfast that would have fed a family of gypsies. Not that any of it got wasted -- I was a big lad, six foot two, with shoulders as wide as a barn door and a lot of muscle from playing rugby every chance I got. Aye, I was what they call well presented, with a grin that a lot of people described as cheeky. Just a big overgrown boy hardly out of my teens, putting on a old fashioned uniform with a silly helmet and boots on my feet heavy enough to crush stones. Still, when I looked in the mirror I thought I looked pretty smart, what with that big silver crowned badge above my head, a row of shiny buttons down my high necked blue tunic and a silver whistle chain tucked into the top left pocket. What I was soon to find out was how many doors that uniform could open. Like I say, the force was well respected in those days. So, everything straight and tidy for public display and then down to the station. Not a big place but big enough to handle the routine work in the town, with a sergeant in charge. He was almost as big as I was, but a lot older, a fellow named Hanson. A steady sort, but not a man to stand any nonsense. I spent most of the morning learning the office routine and then the sergeant took me for a stroll around the town. I got shown most of the local places of interest and especially where the phone boxes where located. No pocket radios in those days. What you did on patrol was to make 'points'. That meant waiting outside a designated phone box at a specified time, usually for about five minutes, so that if the station needed you for anything they could ring through. After we'd done the tour Sergeant Hanson said he'd leave me on my own for a while to keep on patrolling. He made sure I knew my point times for the rest of the shift and then went back to the station. I guess that wouldn't happen nowadays, a young copper on his first day left in the streets on his own with no radio and no weapon except a wooden truncheon. But that was then and nobody in his right mind tried to make trouble for the force in those days -- not unless he wanted to find out how heavy those police boots could be when they stamped down on somebody. No, there weren't any problems, the sun was shining, the locals were nodding respectfully at me, most of them spotting straight away I was new in the area. Then a smart young lass stopped for a chat and I was happy to oblige. In fact, that was what the Sergeant had told me to do, to talk to the locals as much as possible and get to know them. If this was the first one, that was fine with me. She said her name was Angela and I was welcome to stop by her house for a cup of tea whenever I wanted to. Of course being invited in for a cup of tea was something anybody would do for a stranger and it didn't necessarily mean more than common politeness. Especially considering the pram Angela was pushing. Still, I made a note of her address anyway. You never knew your luck with the ladies, that was my belief. To tell the truth I was starting to enjoy myself, with the attention the uniform was getting. Or maybe it was the way I was filling it out. And then there was a scuffle near a pub with a couple of drunks being silly, but not so silly that they didn't scoot off around the corner like long dogs as soon as they saw me coming. The landlord invited me in for a drink on the house, which I didn't dare do, in case Hanson came back. But I was full of myself, feeling like Wyatt Earp on the streets of Tombstone after the last gunslinger had been carried off to Boot Hill. Well, I was as young and green as they come. Anyway, I made another point. The phone in the kiosk didn't ring so I continued patrolling and then noticed I was walking past a school. The kids were streaming out in mid afternoon, with the younger ones being collected by their mothers. All except one woman who was left hanging around the gates after the rush was over. "Hello, officer," she said to me, matching the words with a smile that straightaway tickled my fancy. This one was well worth passing the time of day with. The top of her reddish tinted hair was a clear foot below my shoulders, with a curl over her forehead and the rest worn long. Her face was pleasant without being really pretty, the nose was a trifle too big for that, but her eyes were green and bold, with a very vivid shade of lipstick on her smiling mouth. She had to be easily ten years older than me, more likely fifteen, so the breasts underneath the red and white floral blouse she was wearing deserved the mature plumpness the fabric clung to so very nicely. Neither was there much amiss from there on down, with a white pleated skirt which was drawn taut over a slightly plump belly and hips far enough apart for a man to settle onto in comfort. What was more, the skirt hemline was above her knees, high enough to be about as far as a respectable married woman could go in those days. Oh yes, I spotted that drawback straight away, the wedding ring on her left hand but apart from that it seemed to me that here was the kind of fancy piece I'd love to have a few drinks with in a pub. By Christ, I'd have bought this one her booze all night in return for a chance to have a feel of her boobs. Married or not, I was going to hang around within leering distance of this fine looking lady as long as I could, especially if she kept smiling at me the way she was now. "Hello," I answered. "Waiting to collect somebody from the school, are you?" She smiled again: "No, no, I'm Anna Morrison, the head teacher here, just making sure all our little darlings get collected safely." "You're a teacher?" She seemed slightly puzzled at my question: "Yes. Any reason why I shouldn't be?" "No, no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything," I said. "It's only, when I was at school, all our female teachers . . . well, none of them looked anything at all like you. If they had, being kept back at school would have been a pleasure instead of a punishment, believe me." She laughed, a deep throaty laugh that made my toes curl. Then she said: "Oh, I see. Well, you've just talked yourself out having to write any lines for being a naughty boy. I haven't seen you before, have I?" "No, you haven't, Mrs Morrison. It's my first day in town. I'm Constable Rogers. Phil Rodgers." "Pleased to meet you, Phil. Please call me Anna." She shook my hand as if she was afraid that I'd break the bones in hers. "My, you are a big fellow, aren't you, Phil?" Mmmm . . . and for all her apparent hesitancy in putting her hand in mine it seemed as if she'd squeezed it for longer than had been quite necessary. "Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?" That sounded like a good idea, a chance to get to know her better but it suddenly occurred to me that here was a chance to try out a trick that one of the instructors at the training school had tipped us off about. He'd said that if ever we met a woman we thought might be willing for some fun and games, the best thing to do was to tell her there was a flasher showing himself off around her neighborhood. Either she'd be frightened or she'd be interested, and the more interested the better. Either way, you'd soon find out what sort of a woman she was. Whatever else I might have missed at the school there was no chance I'd forget that lesson. Of course, a middle aged married school teacher was hardly likely to be up for a frolic but this seemed like a good chance to test the theory. "Thank you, Anna, but somebody has told me there's a suspicious looking character in the area. I thought perhaps I should take a stroll around the back of the school buildings just to see if I can see anything. If anybody was there he's probably gone by now, but you never know." "Oh. What was suspicious about him?" "Well, he was wearing a raincoat for one thing, which seems a bit odd with the weather as warm as it is today." I winked at her. "If you get my meaning." "Oh," she said again, but in a knowing tone. "Oh, one of those, hey? Wanting to show himself off to some of the children, you think?" "I don't about know that, but it might be possible." Anna nodded. "Come to think of it, I saw somebody round the other side of the school this afternoon. Somebody wearing a raincoat, I mean. It seemed a bit odd at the time." Which was a statement that set me right back on my heels. Here I was making up a story and here was this woman making up another one of her own to match it. Either that or there'd been a long odds coincidence and some fellow in a raincoat had chosen that day to walk near the school grounds. Whatever, it was a turn in the conversation to take advantage of. "Would you like to show me where you saw him?" I asked her. "If you can spare the time." "Yes, I can certainly do that. This way, Phil." Here was a fine way to start a new job, strolling across the school grounds with this very attractive teacher and another hour before I had to make my last point for the afternoon shift. Mind you, I was squinting sideways at her and trying to guess whether she'd been telling the truth about seeing a man in a raincoat, or whether she was just using it as an excuse for us to go off together. Not that I was likely to be that lucky. Then she said something which grabbed my attention like a punch in the nuts during a rugby tackle. "You know, Phil, I've always wondered what the best thing is that a woman can do if she gets trapped in an alley by one of those raincoat perverts. Should she fight him or do what he wants?" Hey hey, it seemed like the instructor had been right on the money with his advice about how to get an interesting conversation going. "It depends," I answered. "Of course the police force has to be careful about what it says to the public. There'd be all kinds of an outcry if they suggested that women shouldn't try to call for help or put up a fight. But the truth is that if there's not much chance of getting help and you're dealing with some nutcase who seems strong and determined, it might be best to offer him some co-operation. For a while, anyway, until you get your chance to break away." She turned her head towards me with her lips curved up quizzically: "What exactly do you mean by co-operating?" I had to be cautious here: "Well, it wouldn't do you any harm to take a long look at what he wants to show off. Maybe even say it looks nice. Anything to keep things from turning ugly." We'd reached the back of the school buildings by then. There was a narrow strip of grass, a pathway, a hedge which presumably marked the limit of the school grounds and a head high brick enclosure with dustbins inside it. "There's nobody around here after the children leave. Only the teachers leaving on their own when they've finished for the day in their classrooms," Anna told me. "I worry sometimes about that. Suppose one of those characters was hanging around and he was the dangerous type?" I certainly wasn't going to downplay any possible threat from a prowling pervert, not with the way Anna had been talking before. After all, it was my excuse for walking around with her. So I made something of a display of looking inside the bin enclosure. "This is a bad spot, Anna. If one of your lady teachers got pulled in here behind these walls nobody would be able to see what was going on. Is there anywhere else around here which could be dangerous? You know, where somebody might be lurking?" Again, I was being hopeful, but one thing was sure, there was no chance of getting a whiff of romance anywhere near the smell coming out of those bins. Anna looked up at me from underneath her fringe of tinted hair and whatever was causing the gleam in her eyes had my adam's apple rubbing hard against the tunic's stiff collar. All of a sudden that collar seemed to be making breathing a lot more difficult. "There's the boiler room, Phil. It doesn't get used in the summer and sometimes the school caretaker is careless about keeping the door locked." "Perhaps we should take a look at it then?" She nodded and led me towards a green door. As I expected it was locked, but what I wanted to see was if Anna would just walk away after she'd checked it. She didn't, she just reached up to the top of the doorframe and took down a brass yale key. As she bent down slightly to put the key in the lock I was presented with a chance to make a longer and more considered examination of the teacher's finely rounded stern. A work of art, a genuine work of art, and wouldn't I just love to unveil it for a private showing. 'Careful, lad, careful', I whispered to myself. Not only did the tunic collar feel as if it was choking me, but I was starting to rub against my blue serge uniform somewhere else. I took off the helmet and held it front of me, trying to think about things that had nothing to do with women. Because I could get myself into real trouble if I was misreading the signals here. A lot of trouble. "Perhaps you should go first, Phil," Anna suggested. Why not? I went in, into a long room which was gloomy after the sunlight outside. There were only two small windows, on each side, close against the brick walls of neighboring buildings and high up because there was a boiler set against the wall on each side of me. I walked down the aisle between them and glanced at the valve handles and dials on each of the round white painted cylinders. It was something like being inside the engine room of a ship. Behind me I heard Anna's heels clicking on the worn lino. My cock was still refusing to drain and droop. Perhaps because of the lingering effect of Anna's perfume that had filled my nostrils as I'd brushed past her. Maybe if I thought about ships instead of the teacher -- but all that came into my mind were images of clouds of steam and huge thrusting pistons. By God, there were problems about being a copper I'd never thought of. Like finding ways of concealing hard evidence from certain highly desirable members of the public. Then I looked behind the boilers. A basin and a draining board against the end wall, a steel locker, a table with rose patterned oil cloth, a wooden kitchen chair and an old purplish armchair, very low and battered and worn out. Exactly the sort of snug little private set up that every caretaker has somewhere for his meal breaks. "Take a seat, Phil," Anna said. Her hand was clearly indicating the armchair. "But could I borrow your truncheon, please? Before you sit down." "My truncheon?" I couldn't make any sense at all of that request. "Yes, please. I think I might need it as a kind of prop. For educational instruction." God help me, I was nearly stupid enough to ask her what kind of instruction. I might have done if my jaw hadn't been hanging so far down in astonishment. Still, there was only the two of us there and it hardly seemed likely I was in danger of getting bludgeoned to death by a lady school teacher. So I lifted up the side of my tunic and pulled out the foot long piece of polished wood with the county force badge on it. At the same time I was still trying to cover up my bulging groin, using the helmet like a matador waving around a red cape to distract attention away from his sword. I offered the head teacher the truncheon, handle end first, and then sat down on the armchair. Right down on the armchair, with the weak springs collapsing underneath my considerable weight until my backside was only a foot or two above the floor. And what did Mrs Morrison do? What she did was to take the other chair, the ordinary wooden one. She set it down in front of me, in front and up close, and then sat down on it, her skirt drawing up high enough for me to get an excellent view of her knees and higher yet. Of course, the ideal position to appreciate the display would have been to have my eyes at the same level as her knees -- which was about where they were. Now you might think that I'd have been taking a good long look at those knees and the appreciable amount of leg on display above them, but you'd be wrong. Because Anna was holding my truncheon in her lap, upright and looking down at it as she polished it with a carefully folded and spotless white handkerchief . That was something caught my attention, I can tell you, even down to the blue lace edging on the handkerchief. In fact it was the way she was polishing it, with her fingers and handkerchief completely encircling the truncheon, and then sliding the ring of white fabric up and down the length of the weapon. The action was exactly the same as if she was jerking a man off. I couldn't stop myself from grunting and clutching at the helmet in my own lap. Anna looked up and smiled again. A long slow one: "You don't mind me giving it a rub for you, do you, Phil? Just for luck." "No, I don't mind at all." It sounded as if I was croaking, the way my throat had tightened up. "That's good. You see, I wanted to hear some more of your advice about what's the best thing a woman can do if she gets trapped by one of those perverts." "Oh." It came out more like a groan than a spoken word as the teacher gave my truncheon another brisk rub. And underneath my helmet a genie was straining to pop out. "You know, one of those sort who won't take no for an answer. Do you think doing this for him might -- you know, satisfy him?" The teacher put the handkerchief aside, placed her fingertips in a row up and down the side of the truncheon, pressed her thumb against the other side and slid her hand up and down the entire length of it again. "You know what I mean, don't you, Phil? What sort of a stupid question was that? "Yes. I know what you mean." "Do you think that would make a man happy, if I did it for him?" "It would make me happy, Anna, I know that. Very, very happy." I had to lift a finger up to that damned collar and tug on it. Not only did I feel as if I was choking, I could feel my face turning red. Anna paused for her second in her handiwork to look at me again. A kind of arch look from underneath that fringe of hair over her forehead. "A good looking young chap like you, Phil, you wouldn't be interested in anything an older woman like me could do for you -- would you?" "For God's sake, Anna, you're absolutely bloody gorgeous," I croaked. "And if you keep on doing that in front of me I'll go mad." She giggled, gave the truncheon another stroking, then held it up higher, narrowed her eyes, pursed her red lips and blew a gentle stream of air across the rounded top. Not as much air as I blew out though. The teacher watched my reaction with amused eyes and then looked down at the helmet I was still holding on my lap. The Beat Meet "Phil, I always wondered why they made police helmets in that odd shape." She giggled like a drunken schoolgirl. "Now perhaps I know. You haven't got another truncheon hidden away under there, have you?" "You show me yours and I'll show you mine." I offered. "My what, Phil?" Anna's green eyes remained fixed on my face as she moved the tip of the truncheon closer to her mouth and dabbed at it with her tongue. She looked like a cat lapping up a bowl of cream. And if I hadn't been trapped inside that collapsing wreck of a chair I'd have pounced on her. No normal man could be expected to ignore that kind of cock teasing. What in hell's name sort of teacher was this? "If I was going to do what I wanted to with you, Anna, the first thing would be to ask you to take off your blouse." "Well . . . " She seemed to be thinking about the idea.. "You first. Show me what's under that helmet." I lifted up the helmet and dropped it on the floor. Anna's green eyes seemed to widen as she looked down at the bulge underneath my fly buttons. "Good lord, am I responsible for that?" "Yes, of course you bloody well are, woman. You think I can watch you licking that thing without getting a stonking great hard on!" The teacher laughed and lowered the truncheon. "Well, I'd better stop inflaming your passions then. But I did make a promise. Do you still want me to take my blouse off?" "God, yes, please!" I didn't care what I said as long as she did it. And if she did, if she got undressed with me sitting there watching her, nobody could blame me afterwards for starting anything. "Oh, well, if it's to help the police with their enquiries, I suppose that's all right. But wouldn't it be more comfortable if you undid your fly buttons? Or shall I undo them for you?" "Please. Yes, please, Anna." "All right then, Phil. We'll let your pet out for some fresh air, but only if he promises not to bite me." She laughed again, picked up the kitchen chair and moved it closer to the armchair. When she sat down again, those enticing knees were pressed against mine and Anna was leaning forward over my legs, her long fingernails working at my top button. It was tight and difficult to undo. The next one was even tighter and took even longer for her to unfasten. My opened hands found themselves sliding up along her arms and up to her shoulders. Anna gasped as I massaged them. "Careful, officer. You don't know your own strength and I need to concentrate on this job -- there that's another one undone. Phil, are you not wearing anything under this uniform?" "No," I confessed. "I never wear any underpants. I don't think they're healthy." "Well, everything I can see so far seems very healthy." The head of my cock was poking up out of my trousers, the rest of the shaft still hidden in them like a periscope in the sea. The teacher's fingers were exploring the whole appendage though, running over the serge uniform as if she wanted to know how much still remained to come to the surface. Perhaps Anna was impressed, because she gasped. Or perhaps she gasped because my hands had dropped lower, to help her bra in supporting the weight of those big, matronly breasts. And I can tell you they felt wonderful, resting in the palms of my hands as if they were over ripe fruit ready to have the juice slowly squeezed out of them. "Phil, thank you, but I can't see what I'm doing with your arms in the way." Anna said, as if I was only holding a door open for her. I let go of her tits. But I promised myself I'd be back. The teacher sighed and bent forward again, unfastening another fly button. My cock was still half trapped though, still pointing back with the eye at the top looking up at me. Anna lifted up her right hand, dabbed the top of her right index finger with her tongue, then put the finger down and pressed the tip lightly onto the bottom of my cock's head, on the border between the smooth curve and my circumcised foreskin. I moaned and gripped her shoulders again. It felt as if my collar was now five sizes smaller than it had been. "Is that the first kiss it's had in this town, Phil?" "Yes. And God, it felt good." Again I heard that deep throated laugh. "I bet it won't be the last. I'm sure a worm this size will soon be getting some nibbles from the local girls. Just be careful one of them doesn't put a hook in it." She quickly unfastened the last two fly buttons and my best friend stood up free and unfettered, although he was leaning to one side like the Tower of Pisa. Until Anna put both her hands on the shaft, one above the other and held my prick straight. Then she leaned back, still keeping the double grip, her arms straight out and down in front of her. "My God," she whispered, "It ought to have a brass plate on it: 'This monument was raised by pubic subscription'. Phil, do you know why good time girls used to wear lipstick in ancient Rome?" "No." What the hell was she talking about? "It was so they could find out which of them could fellate a man the deepest. By seeing which shade of lipstick was spread the furthest along his penis. They'd have a real challenge here, wouldn't they?" "Nobody ever taught that kind of thing in my history classes," I said with absolute truth. "I wish they had. It would have made school a lot more interesting." Anna kept me straight up and down with her left hand while she used her right one to stroke my cock as she had done the truncheon. My brain seemed to be swelling up and trying to push my eyes out of their sockets. "Phil, the only thing you need to know about history is that might is right. And I like strong men who take what they want. Why don't you pretend I used to be one of your teachers and this is your chance to get your own back for every punishment I ever gave you?" I could hardly believe my ears -- nothing like this had ever happened to me in my life before. Maybe it was the uniform. But if there was ever a time for asking for an invitation to be repeated, this certainly wasn't it. One grab of her wrist, another at her elbow, a good pull and Anna was sprawling down on top of me, face down and gasping as I maneuvered her around until I had that plump bottom across my knees. A gift from lady luck, and I thanked her with a laying on of hands rite. Well, one palm, actually, slamming down half a dozen times, and every one connecting hard, hard enough to raise a cloud of dust if there had been any in that tight skirt. What was underneath it was certainly smarting because Anna began moaning after every slap. It had something of the sound of a cow overdue for a milking and I hoped to God there was nobody within earshot. "Pax, pax, you big brute," she pleaded. I stopped laying on the heavy ones and gave her some love taps instead, spacing them out with plenty of firm rubbing over each quivering haunch. The head teacher was squirming around and moaning, her hipbone rubbing up against my own boner. Jesus, I couldn't keep this game up for much longer. My hand came down again, one blow, but at full strength, hard enough for Mrs Morrison to bounce forward several inches and kick her high heels up off the floor. "Yeoow!! No, no, please, Phil. I'll do anything you want me to, anything." "Stand up." She huffed and puffed getting back onto her feet, although she made the movement about as quickly as she could and I didn't mind, much, because I had a chance to grab a quick feel of a tit as Anna was rising. No wonder she was struggling, with all that top hamper to lift up. "Take your top off." Anna started giggling, standing by the side of the chair and undoing her buttons as I stroked the backs of her knees. The hot silky patches of skin underneath her tights trembled, then even more so as I lifted up the hem of her skirt on the top of my hand. My fingers swirled higher up her left calf. The blouse came off, sliding along her arms in an untidy bunch of flower patterned fabric. Sliding along, removed and tossed over the back of the kitchen chair without Anna moving a step. Underneath the shirt was a massive pair of low cut blue bra cups with a pink ribbon sewn in a bow between them, not to mention enough cleavage for a ferret to hide in. Anna looked down, ran her hands over the cups and purred. It sounded like the voice over for one of those ads about putting a tiger in your fuel tank. In my case, getting a tigress to give you a wank. At the very back of my mind was the notion that it would be interesting to make a few inquiries about Mr Morrison. I could easily imagine him as prematurely bent and aged, the used up remains of a strong man married to a stronger woman who was permanently on heat. But this didn't seem like a good time to mention him. Without waiting for any order from me Anna began unbuttoning and unzipping the top of her skirt. I grabbed at the bottom of it and tugged the waistband down over her wide hips. The sight of the head teacher twisting around like a Turkish belly dancer as she wriggled herself out of the skirt's waistband was completely illegal -- an incitement to riotous behavior if ever there was one. The skirt suddenly began falling of its own weight, down and down, over my hand and arm, then ending up in a pile around Anna's feet. She kicked it aside, laughed, knelt down by the side of the chair and leaned forward over the armrest. The tip of a warm wet tongue touched me where her finger had before. "Do you know much latin, Phil?" God, that collar was tight! "No." I croaked. "Well, if anybody ever asks you, fellatio is the past principle of the latin word fellare, which means to suck. Do you think I can do something to help you remember that?" "Yes. Yes, I think you can help me remember that!" Suddenly I was looking down at a mass of red hair and good old John Thomas was actually getting a generous coating of lipstick around his head and collar. This was incredible! But what would happen if I was late for my point and the station wanted me to speak to me? Missing from duty on my first day? My police career would be over within twenty four hours. But here was a chance to sneak a quick look at my watch without offending the very friendly lady, and it said I still had thirty minutes in hand. Christ, not much time to waste. Still, while Anna was seeing how far down she could leave a strawberry tidemark I did something useful by unhooking the back of her bra. Anna responded by increasing the stroke rate of her latin lesson. Maybe there were some useful things to learn by studying history after all. But then she halfway stood up before crawling forward over my lap and settling back down on it in the same position as she had been before. Only this time there was no red skirt ready for punishment but a pair of tightly stretched blue panties underneath her dark colored tights. OK, if Anna wanted to feel the heavy hand of the law again, so be it. One left, one right, one on the bullseye, and then again, pinning her down across those fine hips with the flat of my left arm as I paddled her rump with the right. Lots of yelps and groans -- look right and see a pair of high heels kicking up at the ceiling, look left and catch a glimpse of the teachers bra strap tangled around her elbows and the side of a plump unfettered breast which seemed to be bouncing up and down off the floor. By God, I'd bet the boys in this school would have paid up their pocket money for ever to watch this. And it was still only the beginning. Or maybe I'd fallen off the bus to work this morning leaving me in a coma and dreaming all of this. Dream or reality, there was no time to waste, not with the watch ticking away. I heard Anna call out in encouragement as I grabbed hold of the top of the panties. A tug, another harder one, until the panties were tangled up with the tights in a roll that I pulled clear of her buttocks and right down to her knees. The fat white half moons of her arse seemed to be fighting each other as Anna squirmed around on top of my knees like an excited puppy. I noticed with some interest a thumb shaped birthmark on her left buttock. God, but I was a good copper -- the first day on the beat and already I was picking up on useful identification features. But now it was my turn to let the public know that the force was always willing to lend a hand. This time I gave Anna several genuinely crisp slaps, hard enough to leave a red patch after each one with the sound of bare flesh on bare flesh echoing around the room. And if you've never had a fine figure of a head teacher slung across your lap and squealing for mercy, well, you've missed an interesting experience. Then I varied the assault by flattening my right hand and pushing it down between her thighs, the top finger brushing against the patch of wet moss buried deep in the top of the crevice. At the same time I reached out with my other hand, grabbing a handful of breast which included a nipple as big and hard as a walnut. Anna arched her back like a diver going off a board and whimpered. "Jesus, yes! Bring me off!" "Seeing as how I've got a frenchie in my tunic pocket, how about I fuck you instead?" "Yes! That's it, fuck me, Phil!" "Get up then." I thought I'd have trouble lifting myself out of that collapsed chair but it's amazing what you can do when you're hormones are motivated. It might as well have been an ejector seat by the way I shot up into the air and landed on my feet. But Anna dead heated me by sitting down on the kitchen table as quickly as I'd got up and tugging her panties and tights down over those knees I'd been admiring so much only a few moments before. As eager as I was to undo that damned collar, it seemed the right thing to do to kneel down and take a moment to get rid of those underthings completely, hauling them off and flinging them to one side. And as they left my hand a couple of warm bra cups dropped on top of my head, with Anna giggling at the joke. They got thrown away as well, my hands went underneath the teacher's knees and I spread her legs open so I could get my mouth where it would do the most good. The next time Anna laughed, she had some reason for it. She was wet and hot and her clit was standing up like a sentry looking out of a trench before I pushed it down and around with my tongue. There was a kind of a screeching noise then, so high pitched and going on for so long I really wondered if one of the boilers was blowing off a safety valve. But since they weren't even lit and since a lot of fingers were scratching at my close cut hair I assumed that Anna was responsible for the noise. I also decided I'd better stop what I was doing before somebody heard her and called the police station to report a murder in progress. So I leaned back into a direct eyeball to nipple confrontation as I tried to set a record for unbuttoning a uniform tunic. Anna opened her legs and leaned forward, holding up her tits from below as if she was trying to sell them to me in a market place. A giant economy sized offer that would have been, because she had the biggest pair I'd ever set eyes on in the raw, lightly tanned all over I noticed, and if they weren't in the first bloom of youth they still looked pretty sprightly. The nipples were nearly as big as the tops of strawberry ice cream cones and looked even more delicious. I'd only managed to unfasten my collar hooks so far but that was a great relief and I couldn't help but take a second to pinch each of those swollen tips. Nice and hard too, and I saw Anna's eyes and mouth make big round O's as her nerve endings got jazzed up. Which was a chance that was even more tempting. I stood up, grabbed the back of her head and pulled her mouth towards me for another run up and down the scales. Nothing needed explaining: one set of fingers stroking underneath my balls, another pair holding the base of my prick steady, and the head teacher was giving me more head than I'd ever had before. God, what couldn't I do with this mad bitch given enough time? Handcuffs, a cane and a long lazy afternoon in front of a camera and she'd be my slave for life. And I thought I'd been sent to the quietest, dullest, most boring town between the Wash and Wales! It was like lighting a cracker on bonfire night and then suddenly realizing you had holding a stick of dynamite with the fuse burning down. Except there was no way of I was going to let go of Anna until she exploded -- or I did. Which was something that was certain to happen very soon. "Anna, wait, wait!" I felt around in one of my tunic pockets, pulled out the condom and ripped the top of the packet off with my teeth. "Here, put this on me. Slowly, damn you, slowly." For a while it seemed I was never going to undo that tunic. Eight buttons, eight big silver buttons, eight bloody great buttons, with my clumsy fingers feeling like a bunch of bananas as I struggled to undo them and Anna laughing down below as she unrolled the rubber along my prick. Inch by inch, her fingers squeezing and pushing against the resistance of the sheath until it was as far back as it was ever going to go. "Oh God!" she called out. "Only I could end up getting seduced by a policeman with a plumber's friend for a sexual organ. I can't do anything with this thing!" Then she used her lips again to make sure there were no little bubbles anywhere. Typical woman, one mouth and two different messages coming from it at the same time. "Fucking hell . . . " The last button finally popped through the last buttonhole, the tunic went wherever everything else had gone, and I was hauling up by her hair. Not wanting to hurt her, mind, only to get her into position. Anna grunted with pain but came along willingly, pushed backwards onto the table, arching up with her legs wide open and her hands clasped around the tops of her breasts as though they were going to try to escape. Which was a reasonable precaution because I was going to do my best to bounce them off the ceiling. I ripped my braces off my shoulders, bent down in front of the kitchen chair and grabbed Anna's high heels, gripping one of them between my teeth and lifting up her left foot to slip the other one back on. "Christ, what are you doing, Phil?" "Mmmmmm." "Take that bloody thing out of your mouth . . . " "It's OK." I put the other shoe back where it had been. "It's just that I like to fuck women with them still wearing their shoes." I lifted up her heels and spread her legs apart to rest on my shoulders. Anna was having some kind of hysterical fit of laughter: "This never happened to Cinderella" I guided the tip of my cock between her swollen cunt lips and pushed it into the yielding flesh. "Then try this for a happy ending." Anna stopped laughing and called out: "Yes, yes!" slapping her hands down on the table top on each side of her body. I took advantage of the opportunity to grab her tits for myself and to haul her towards me with them. At the same time I drove into Anna far enough to make sure everything was lined up properly. The result was an ear splitting screech loud enough to have sent a ship in a fog on an emergency change of course and the table hopped across the smooth floor like a frightened kangaroo. Oh yes, and I got a hell of a lot of satisfaction out of the movement. The second time I did it, Anne clapped both her hands over her mouth, opened her eyes twice as wide as usual and locked her heels together behind my neck. And I'd been cursing that collar for being tight! In about no time flat the table was jammed in tight in a corner of the room, I was rammed in tight against Anna, grunting like a drowning pig, and a stream of half muffled yelps was spurting out between her clenched fingers. I also felt as if I was one of those male insects that has its head ripped off by the female during mating. As a teacher, Anna would have made a great trapeze artist, one of those that hang by their ankles from a swinging bar. I must have been mad to put her shoes back on -- if she dug into my back with those high heels I'd be face down in a hospital bed for a week. The Beat Meet Mind you, I was mad, completely fucking mad, and that teacher was a lot tighter fit over John Thomas than I'd expected. The first half was easy-peasy, but getting the rest of him past her cunt muscles took some serious effort. I had to lean right forward on top of the trapped woman, bending her knees back towards her face and breaking her anklelock on my neck. Which seemed like a good thing, only she put her arms up and grabbed my ears instead, which was worse. And I had to let go of her boobs as I slithered forward. But Christ, wasn't she just squealing and thumping against me as I split her open? Our faces were only inches apart and the smell of her perfume was getting sucked into my nostrils like high octane vapor into an revving engine. But what was the best thing of all, apart from the stroking my cock was getting, was watching her expression. She might be Mrs Anna Morrison, head teacher, a professional and married woman but right then, half an hour after I'd met her, she was a gasping bucking bitch on heat without a thought or a feeling in her except what she was getting from Phil Rodger's huge prick. "Phil! God! I love this!" Those green eyes were wild and rolling around like the plastic ones in a cheap doll when it gets shaken. Here, without doubt, was a woman getting a totally mind blowing fuck. I knew that she'd never forget what I was doing to her on top of this table: I also knew that from now on she'd be panting to spread herself out underneath me whenever I offered her the chance. Christ, this was great, but I had to hurry! Well, no problem there. I could feel the pressure in my shaft building up and up, until suddenly it was emptying out into the end of the tunnel that was Anna, and she was baying for the moon and almost tearing my ears off -- God, there were some bad habits I'd have to break her of, but they could wait. It seemed like we'd come together, right on the sweet spot, and you couldn't ask for better than that, especially on a first gallop. With my broadside fired the main battery went limp and so did I, slumping down, and putting my lips into Anna's bellybutton to blow a final triumphant 'brrrrrr.' Then I looked up, between those two soft piles of tit flesh, to see Anna's head rolling slowly from side to side, each roll drawn out with an accompanying moan of satisfaction. If she'd taken the starch out of me it seemed I'd certainly done the same by her. I stood up, my trousers finally sliding all the way down to my ankles and glanced at my watch. No time to waste, I had to get going. But first, just a moment to tease the teacher. I put my hand down to the bottom of her well rounded belly, twisted some of her reddish tinged cunt hairs into a tuft and tugged at it, hard. "Ow." Anna seemed to come back to earth, enough to stare at me, her cheeks as red as her bush."Oh, God, I must have been mad. We must have been mad. Did anybody hear us, you think?" I looked down at her voluptuous body sprawled on top of the table with not a thing on except the high heeled shoes and a thin gold necklace. "Nobody heard me. But you kept going off like an air raid alarm. Look at the state you're in, Anna You look as if you've just been shagged by a shipload of Vikings." "I feel like I've just been shagged by a shipload of Vikings," she answered and giggled again. "Absolutely ravaged, in fact, from head to toe and it's a wonderful feeling. But we mustn't do it here again." I pulled on her hairs again, making her lift her bottom off the table and then let her down again. She moaned, took my free hand and kissed it on the palm. Yes, this was definitely a woman who liked to be put in her place. "No, the next time . . . " I said, then paused. My fingers slid down into her cunt and found her clit. "No, the next time I want you in a loose skirt, a suspender belt and nylons, but no panties, and you'll bring your cane with you. Understand?" Her face flushed even an even deeper shade than it already was as her eyes rolled back. A tiny touch of my hooked finger and her entire body shook as though I'd fired a spark into her. "Phil!" It started out sounding like a protest but finished up as a cry of encouragement. Amazing, what some women can do with even one word. I pulled off the condom, tied a knot in the end, stretched the rubber right back and let it go, to flick against the teacher's left nipple. She yelped and rubbed the sore spot as I draped the frenchie between her lolling breasts. "That's for holding onto my ears." "Phil . . ." If Anna had been thinking of complaining, the words died on her lips as I slipped my fingers back into her cunt and curled them around to a position where I'd achieved good results with other girls in the past. It was like tickling a trout out of a stream if you could just hit on the right place. When the teacher moaned and tugged on my cock I knew I'd found the right place inside her. Keeping my hand where it was, I stirred up Anna's pot for her until her hips were jerking up and down. "Phil . . . God!" Whatever the emotion in the word this time, Anna certainly wasn't complaining. I put my other hand over her mouth and she licked it frantically, then snuffled for air through her nose like a rooting pig as I made her come again. Her fingers squeezed my limp cock so hard I almost squealed myself, the bottom half of her body shot up on the tips of her shoes like a ballet dancer at full stretch and, incredibly, she stayed rigid in mid air for three or four seconds before slumping down on top of the table like a crow shot in the nest. Anna's head slid down into the gap between the end of the table and the wall and taking my hand off her mouth was like uncovering the exhaust inlet on a hard working steam engine. Well, at least she was still breathing. While the teacher was recovering I began frantically pulling on my uniform again. I used her panties to wipe my cock on and then shoved them in my pocket as a trophy. If the job kept on going the way it had started I reckoned I might be able to get together a good collection before long. "Phil? You're going?" Anna was back with me, her head lifted up and her right hand down between her opened legs as she played with herself. God, the bitch was insatiable once she got excited. "I've got to. Otherwise I'll be in real trouble. Sorry." She looked like a kid on Christmas morning waking up to find an empty sock: "What about me?" "It's all right, madam, I'll report you as a victim of a hit and run fucking." Anna laughed, then screwed up her eyes and drew in a deep breath as her fingers worked faster. "But I need another one now," she protested. "Sorry. But you know what they say, the criminal always comes back to the scene of the crime. You can grab him then." "Yes, but for now?" "For now, I've got to go." Anna sat up, slid her legs around, stood up as I struggled to refasten my collar clips. Had I got everything? Helmet, baton? Yes. Ready to go. Which wasn't easy because the head teacher was leaning over the table, her bare bottom towards me and still frigging herself off. It was like looking at the full moon reflected in rippling water because Anna was starting to gasp and wriggle as she got more excited. If it came to that I was getting stiff again myself. Given half a chance I would have been back up her like a rat up a drainpipe. But I didn't have half a chance. Anyway, always leave them wanting more, that was my philosophy. "You want me to bring a cane next time, Phil? You meant that?" God, but she was a glutton for punishment. "That's right, a cane. I'm going to make you beg for your next fuck, Mrs Morrison." Whap! Whap! A left and a right hander, one open handed full strength slap on each fat cheek and I was away, walking off between the boilers and leaving behind a head teacher who sounded as if she was going into labor. I slipped out of the building after making sure nobody was watching, then walked back to the telephone box with steps a yard long and going like the clappers. Got there just as it rang and the sergeant asked why I was out of breath. I said I'd got lost and had to hurry to get back to the box. Then he asked how I was liking the job so far and I said that it wasn't so bad after all. An hour later I was downing a pint of best bitter and wondering if Anna had finally managed to get herself dressed and off home. And next morning my landlady was brushing me down in my bedroom before I went on duty, making sure there was no bits of lint on the uniform. "You young lads, you don't know the first thing about your own jobs," she said. "In the force, you always dress on the right. Like this." She put down the brush, got hold of my cock and pushed it over onto the right side of my flies. "There, that's the way it should be. But I suppose I'll have to do it for you every morning, won't I?" "Yes, Mrs Logan," I agreed happily. "I suppose you probably will." THE END The Beat Meet "You show me yours and I'll show you mine." I offered. "My what, Phil?" Anna's green eyes remained fixed on my face as she moved the tip of the truncheon closer to her mouth and dabbed at it with her tongue. She looked like a cat lapping up a bowl of cream. And if I hadn't been trapped inside that collapsing wreck of a chair I'd have pounced on her. No normal man could be expected to ignore that kind of cock teasing. What in hell's name sort of teacher was this? "If I was going to do what I wanted to with you, Anna, the first thing I'd do would be to tell you to take off your shirt." "Well . . . " She seemed to be thinking about the idea.. "You first. Show me what's under that helmet." I lifted up the helmet and dropped it on the floor. Anna's green eyes seemed to widen as she looked down at the bulge underneath my fly buttons. "Good lord, am I responsible for that?" "Yes, of course you bloody well are, woman. You think I can watch you licking that thing without getting a stonking great stalk on!" The teacher laughed and lowered the truncheon. "Well, I'd better stop inflaming your passions then. But I did make a promise. Do you still want me to take my shirt off?" "God, yes, please!" I didn't care what I said as long as she did it. And if she did, if she got undressed with me sitting there watching her, nobody could blame me afterwards for starting anything. "Oh, well, if it's to help the police with their enquiries, I suppose that's all right. But wouldn't it be more comfortable if you undid your fly buttons? Or shall I undo them for you?" "Please. Yes, please, Anna." "All right then, Phil. We'll let your pet out for some fresh air, but only if he promises not to bite me." She laughed again, picked up the kitchen chair and moved it closer to the armchair. When she sat down, those enticing knees were pressed against mine and Anna was leaning forward over my legs, her long fingernails working at my top button. It was tight and difficult to undo. The next one was even tighter and took even longer for her to unfasten. My opened hands found themselves sliding up along her arms and up to her shoulders. Anna gasped as I massaged them all. "Careful, officer. You don't know your own strength and I need to concentrate on this job -- there that's another one undone. Phil, are you not wearing anything under this uniform?" "No," I confessed. "I never wear any underpants. I don't think they're healthy." "Well, everything I can see so far seems very healthy." The head of my cock was poking up out of my trousers, the rest of the shaft still hidden in them like a periscope in the sea. The teacher's fingers were exploring the whole appendage though, running over the serge uniform as if she wanted to know how much still remained to come to the surface. Perhaps Anna was impressed, because she gasped. Or perhaps she gasped because my hands had dropped lower, to help her bra in supporting the weight of those big, matronly breasts. And I can tell you they felt wonderful, resting in the palms of my hands as if they were over ripe fruit ready to have the juice slowly squeezed out of them. "Phil, thank you, but I can't see what I'm doing with your arms in the way." Anna said, as if I was only holding a door open for her. I let go of her tits. But I promised myself I'd be back. The teacher sighed and bent forward again, unfastening another fly button. My cock was still half trapped though, still pointing back with the eye at the top looking up at me. Anna lifted up her right hand, dabbed the top of her right index finger with her tongue, then put the finger down and pressed the tip lightly onto the bottom of my cock's head, on the border between the smooth curve and my circumcised foreskin. I moaned and gripped her shoulders again. It felt as if my collar was now five sizes smaller than it had been. "Is that the first kiss it's had in this town, Phil?" "Yes. And God, it felt good." Again I heard that deep throated laugh. "I bet it won't be the last. I'm sure a worm this size will soon be getting some nibbles from the local girls. Just be careful one of them doesn't put a hook in it." She quickly unfastened the last two fly buttons and my best friend stood up free and unfettered, although he was leaning to one side like the Tower of Pisa. Until Anna put both her hands on the shaft, one above the other and held my prick straight. Then she leaned back, still keeping the double grip, her arms straight out and down in front of her. "My God," she whispered, "It ought to have a brass plate on it: 'This monument was raised by pubic subscription'. Phil, do you know why good time girls used to wear lipstick in ancient Rome?" "No." What the fuck was she talking about? "It was so they could find out which of them could fellate a man the deepest. By seeing which shade of lipstick was spread the furthest along his penis. They'd have a real challenge here, wouldn't they?" "Nobody ever taught that kind of thing in my history classes," I said with absolute truth. "I wish they had. It would have made school a lot more interesting." Anna kept me straight up and down with her left hand while she used her right one to stroke my cock as she had done the truncheon. My brain seemed to be swelling up and trying to push my eyes out of their sockets. "Phil, the only thing you need to know about history is that might is right. And I like strong men who take what they want. Why don't you pretend I used to be one of your teachers and this is your chance to get your own back for every punishment I ever gave you?" I could hardly believe my ears -- nothing remotely like this had ever happened to me in my life before. But if there was ever a time for asking for an invitation to be repeated, this certainly wasn't it. One grab of her wrist, another at her elbow, a good pull and Anna was sprawling down on top of me, face down and gasping as I maneuvered her around until I had that plump derriere across my knees. A gift from lady luck, and I thanked her with a laying on of hands rite. Well, one palm, actually, slamming down half a dozen times, and every one connecting hard, hard enough to raise a cloud of dust if there had been any in that tight red skirt. What was underneath it was certainly smarting because Anna began bellowing after every slap. It had something of the sound of a cow overdue for a milking and I hoped to God there was nobody within earshot. "Pax, pax, you big brute," she pleaded. I stopped laying on the heavy ones and gave her some love taps instead, spacing them out with plenty of firm rubbing over each quivering haunch. The head teacher was squirming around and moaning, her hipbone rubbing up against my own boner. Jesus, I couldn't keep this game up for much longer. My hand came down again, one blow, but at full strength, hard enough for Mrs Morrison to bounce forward several inches and kick her high heels up off the floor. "Yeoow!! No, no, please, Phil. I'll do anything you want me to, anything." "Stand up." She huffed and puffed getting back onto her feet, although she made the movement about as quickly as she could and I didn't mind, much, because I had a chance to grab a quick feel of a tit as Anna was rising. No wonder she was struggling, with all that top hamper to lift up. "Shirt off." Anna kept giggling, standing by the side of the chair and undoing her buttons as I stroked the backs of her knees. The hot silky patches of skin underneath her tights trembled, then even more so as I lifted up the hem of her skirt on the top of my hand. My fingers swirled higher up her left calf. The shirt came off, sliding along her arms in an untidy bunch of flower patterned fabric. Sliding along, removed and tossed over the back of the kitchen chair without Anna moving a step. Underneath the shirt was a massive pair of low cut blue bra cups with a pink ribbon sewn in a bow between them, not to mention enough cleavage for a ferret to hide in. Anna looked down, ran her hands over the cups and purred. It sounded like the voice over for one of those ads about putting a tiger in your fuel tank. In my case, getting a tigress to give you a wank. At the very back of my mind was the notion that it would be interesting to make a few inquiries about Mr Morrison. I could easily imagine him as prematurely bent and aged, the used up remains of a strong man married to a stronger woman who was permanently on heat. But this didn't seem like a good time to mention him. Without waiting for any order from me Anna began unbuttoning and unzipping the top of her skirt. I grabbed at the bottom of it and tugged the waistband down over her wide hips. The sight of the head teacher twisting around like a Turkish belly dancer as she wriggled herself out of the skirt's waistband was completely illegal -- an incitement to riotous behavior if ever there was one. The skirt suddenly began falling of its own weight, down and down, over my hand and arm, then ending up in a pile around Anna's feet. She kicked it aside, laughed, knelt down by the side of the chair and leaned forward over the armrest. The tip of a warm wet tongue touched me where her finger had before. "Do you know much latin, Phil?" God, that collar was strangling me! "No." I croaked. "Well, if anybody ever asks you, fellatio is the past principle of the latin word fellare, which means to suck. Do you think I can do something to help you remember that?" "Yes. Yes, I think you can help me remember that!" Suddenly I was looking down at a mass of red hair and good old John Thomas was getting a generous coating of lipstick around his head and collar. This was incredible! But what would happen if I was late for my point and the station wanted me to speak to me? Missing on my first day? My police career would be over within twenty four hours. But here was a chance to sneak a quick look at my watch without offending the very friendly lady, and it said I still had thirty minutes in hand. Christ, not much time to waste. Still, while Anna was seeing how far down she could leave a strawberry tidemark I did something useful by unhooking the back of her bra. Anna responded by increasing the stroke rate of her latin lesson. Maybe there were some useful things to learn by studying history. But then she halfway stood up before crawling forward over my lap and settling back down on it in the same position as she had been before. Only this time there was no red skirt ready for punishment but a pair of tightly stretched blue panties underneath her dark colored tights. OK, if Anna wanted to feel the heavy hand of the law again, so be it. One left, one right, one on the bullseye, and then again, pinning her down across those fine hips with the flat of my left arm as I paddled her rump with the right. Lots of yelps and groans -- look right and see a pair of high heels kicking up at the ceiling, look left and catch a glimpse of the teachers bra strap tangled around her elbow and the side of a plump unfettered breast which seemed to be bouncing up and down off the floor. By God, I'd bet the boys in this school would have paid up their pocket money for the rest of their lives to watch this. And it was still only the beginning. Or maybe I'd fallen off the bus to work this morning and I was in a coma and dreaming all of this. Dream or reality, there was no time to waste, not with the watch ticking away. I heard Anna call out in encouragement as I grabbed hold of the top of the panties. A tug, another harder one, until the panties were tangled up with the tights in a roll that I pulled clear of her buttocks and right down to her knees. The fat white half moons of her arse seemed to be fighting each other as Anna squirmed around on top of my knees like an excited puppy. I noticed with some interest a thumb shaped birthmark on her left buttock. God, but I was a good copper -- the first day on the beat and already I was picking up on useful identification features. But now it was my turn to let the public know that the force was always willing to lend a hand. This time I gave Anna several genuinely crisp slaps, hard enough to leave a red patch after each one with the sound of bare flesh on bare flesh echoing around the room. And if you've never had a fine figure of a head teacher slung across your lap and squealing for mercy, well, you've missed an interesting experience. Then I varied the assault by flattening my right hand and pushing it down between her thighs, the top finger brushing against the patch of wet moss buried deep in the top of the crevice. At the same time I reached out with my other hand, grabbing a handful of tit which included a nipple as big and hard as a walnut. Anna arched her back like a diver going off a board and whimpered. "Jesus, yes! Bring me off!" "Seeing as how I've got a frenchie in my tunic pocket, how about I fuck you instead?" "Yes! That's it, fuck me silly, Phil!" "Get up then." I thought I'd have trouble lifting myself out of that collapsed chair but it's amazing what you can do when you're hormones are motivated. It might as well have been an ejector seat by the way I shot up into the air and landed on my feet. But Anna dead heated me by sitting down on the kitchen table as quickly as I'd got up and tugging her panties and tights down over those knees I'd been admiring so much only a few moments before. As eager as I was to undo that damned collar, it seemed the right thing to do to kneel down and take a moment to get rid of those underthings completely, hauling them off and flinging them to one side. And as they left my hand a couple of warm bra cups dropped on top of my head, with Anna giggling at the joke. They got thrown away as well, my hands went underneath the teacher's knees and I spread her legs open so I could get my mouth where it would do the most good. The next time Anna laughed, she had some reason for it. She was wet and hot and her clit was standing up like a sentry looking out of a trench before I pushed it down and around with my tongue. There was a kind of a screeching noise then, so high pitched and going on for so long I really wondered if one of the boilers was blowing off a safety valve. But since they weren't even lit and since a lot of fingers were scratching at my close cut hair I assumed that Anna was responsible for the noise. I also decided I'd better stop what I was doing before somebody heard her and called the police station to report a murder in progress. So I leaned back into a direct eyeball to nipple confrontation as I tried to set a record for unbuttoning a uniform tunic. Anna opened her legs and leaned forward, holding up her tits from below as if she was trying to sell them to me in a market place. A giant economy sized offer that would have been, because she had the biggest pair I'd ever set eyes on in the raw, lightly tanned all over I noticed, and if they weren't in the first bloom of youth they still looked pretty sprightly. The nipples were nearly as big as the tops of strawberry ice cream cones and looked even more delicious. I'd only managed to unfasten my collar hooks so far but that was a great relief and I couldn't help but take a second to pinch each of those swollen tips. Nice and hard too, and I saw Anna's eyes and mouth make big round O's as her nerve endings got jazzed up. Which was a chance that was even more tempting. I stood up, grabbed the back of her head and pulled her mouth towards me for another run up and down the scales. Nothing needed explaining: one set of fingers stroking underneath my balls, another pair holding the base of my prick steady, and the head teacher was giving me more head than I'd ever had before. God, what couldn't I do with this mad bitch given enough time? Handcuffs, a cane and a long lazy afternoon in front of a camera and she'd be my slave for life. And I thought I'd been sent to the quietest, dullest, most boring town between the Wash and Wales! It was like lighting a cracker on bonfire night and then suddenly realizing you had holding a stick of dynamite with the fuse burning down. Except there was no way of I was going to let go of Anna until she exploded -- or I did. Which was something that was certain to happen very soon. "Anna, wait, wait!" I felt around in one of my tunic pockets, pulled out the french letter and ripped the top of the packet off with my teeth. "Here, put this on me. Slowly, damn you, slowly." For a while it seemed I was never going to undo that tunic. Eight buttons, eight big silver buttons, eight bloody great buttons, with my clumsy fingers feeling like a bunch of bananas as I struggled to undo them and Anna laughing down below as she unrolled the rubber along my prick. Inch by inch, her fingers squeezing and pushing against the resistance of the sheath until it was as far back as it was ever going to go. "Oh God!" she called out. "Only I could end up getting seduced by a policeman with a plumber's friend for a sexual organ. I can't do anything with this thing!" Then she used her lips again to make sure there were no little bubbles anywhere. Typical woman, one mouth and two different messages coming from it at the same time. "Fucking hell . . . " The last button finally popped through the last buttonhole, the tunic went wherever everything else had gone, and I was hauling up by her hair. Not wanting to hurt her, mind, only to get her into position. Anna grunted with pain but came along willingly, pushed backwards onto the table, arching up with her legs wide open and her hands clasped around the tops of her breasts as though they were going to try to escape. Which was a reasonable precaution because I was going to do my best to bounce them off the ceiling. I ripped my braces off my shoulders, bent down in front of the kitchen chair and grabbed Anna's high heels, gripping one of them between my teeth and lifting up her left foot to slip the other one back on. "Christ, what are you doing, Phil?" "Mmmmmm." "Take that bloody thing out of your mouth . . . " "It's OK." I put the other shoe back where it had been. "It's just that I like to fuck women with them still wearing their shoes." I lifted up her heels and spread her legs apart to rest on my shoulders. Anna was having some kind of hysterical fit of laughter: "This never happened to Cinderella" I guided the tip of my cock between her swollen cunt lips and pushed it into the yielding flesh. "Then try this for a happy ending." Anna stopped laughing and called out: "Yes, yes!" slapping her hands down on the table top on each side of her body. I took advantage of the opportunity to grab her tits for myself and to haul her towards me with them. At the same time I drove into Anna far enough to make sure everything was lined up properly. The result was an ear splitting screech loud enough to have sent a ship in a fog on an emergency change of course and the table hopped across the smooth floor like a baby kangaroo. Oh yes, and I got a hell of a lot of satisfaction out of the movement. The second time I did it, Anne clapped both her hands over her mouth, opened her eyes twice as wide as usual and locked her heels together behind my neck. And I'd been cursing that collar for being tight! In about no time flat the table was jammed in tight in a corner of the room, I was rammed in tight against Anna, grunting like a drowning pig, and a stream of half muffled yelps was spurting out between her clenched fingers. I also felt as if I was one of those male insects that has its head ripped off by the female during mating. As a teacher, Anna would have made a great trapeze artist, one of those that hang by their ankles from a swinging bar. I must have been mad to put her shoes back on -- if she dug into my back with those high heels I'd be face down in a hospital bed for a weeks. The Beat Meet Mind you, I was mad, completely fucking mad, and that teacher was a lot tighter fit over John Thomas than I'd expected. The first half was easy-peasy, but getting the rest of him past her cunt muscles took some serious effort. I had to lean right forward on top of the trapped woman, bending her knees back towards her face and breaking her anklelock on my neck. Which seemed like a good thing, only she put her arms up and grabbed my ears instead, which was worse. And I had to let go of her tits as I slithered forward. But Christ, wasn't she just squealing and thumping against me as I split her open? Our faces were only inches apart and the smell of her perfume was getting sucked into my nostrils like high octane vapor into an revving engine. But what was the best thing of all, apart from the stroking my cock was getting, was watching her expression. She might be Mrs Anna Morrison, head teacher, a professional and married woman but right then, half an hour after I'd met her, she was a gasping bucking bitch on heat without a thought or a feeling in her except what she was getting from Phil Rodger's huge prick. "Phil! God! I love this!" Those green eyes were wild and rolling around like the plastic ones in a cheap doll when it gets shaken. Here, without doubt, was a woman getting the best fuck she'd ever had in her life and totally mind blown because of it. I knew that she'd never forget what I was doing to her on top of this table: I also knew that from now on she'd be panting to spread herself out underneath me whenever I offered her the chance. Christ, this was great, but I had to hurry! Well, no problem there. I could feel the pressure in my shaft building up and up, until suddenly it was emptying out into the end of the tunnel that was Anna, and she was baying for the moon and almost tearing my ears off -- God, there were some bad habits I'd have to break her of, but they could wait. It seemed like we'd come together, right on the sweet spot, and you couldn't ask for better than that, especially on a first gallop. With my broadside fired the main battery went limp and so did I, slumping down, and putting my lips into Anna's bellybutton to blow a final triumphant 'brrrrrr.' Then I looked up, between those two soft piles of tit flesh, to see Anna's head rolling slowly from side to side, each roll drawn out with a accompanying moan of satisfaction. If she'd taken the starch out of me it seemed I'd certainly done the same by her. I stood up, my trousers finally sliding all the way down to my ankles and glanced at my watch. No time to waste, I had to get going. But first, just a moment to tease the teacher. I put my hand down to the bottom of her well rounded belly, twisted some of her reddish tinged cunt hairs into a tuft and tugged at it, hard. "Ow." Anna seemed to come back to earth, enough to stare at me, her cheeks as red as her bush."Oh, God, I must have been mad. We must have been mad. Did anybody hear us, you think?" I looked down at her voluptuous body sprawled on top of the table with not a thing on except the high heeled shoes and a thin gold necklace. "Nobody heard me. But you kept going off like an air raid alarm. Look at the state you're in, Anna You look as if you've just been shagged by a shipload of Vikings." "I feel like I've just been shagged by a shipload of Vikings," she answered and giggled again. "Absolutely ravaged, in fact, from head to toe and it's a wonderful feeling. But we mustn't do it here again." I pulled on her hairs again, making her lift her bottom off the table and then let her down again. She moaned, took my free hand and kissed it on the palm. Yes, this was definitely a woman who liked to be put in her place. "No, the next time . . . " I said, then paused. My fingers slid down into her cunt and found her clit. "No, the next time I want you in a loose skirt, a suspender belt and nylons, but no panties, and you'll bring a cane with you. Understand?" Her face flushed even an even deeper shade than it already was as her eyes rolled back. A tiny touch of my hooked finger and her entire body shook as though I'd fired a spark into her. "Phil!" It started out sounding like a protest but finished up as a cry of encouragement. Amazing, what some women can do with even one word. I pulled off the french letter, tied a knot in the end, stretched the rubber right back and let it go, to flick against the teacher's left nipple. She yelped and rubbed the sore spot as I draped the frenchie between her lolling breasts. "That's for holding onto my ears." "Phil . . ." If Anna had been thinking of complaining, the words died on her lips as I slipped my fingers back into her cunt and curled them around to a position where I'd achieved good results with other girls in the past. It was like tickling a trout out of a stream if you could just hit on the right place. When the teacher moaned and tugged on my cock I knew I'd found the right place inside her. Keeping my hand where it was, I stirred up Anna's pot for her until her hips were jerking up and down. "Phil . . .!" Whatever the emotion in the word this time, Anna certainly wasn't complaining. I put my other hand over her mouth and she licked it frantically, then snuffled for air through her nose like a rooting pig as I made her come again. Her fingers squeezed my limp cock so hard I almost squealed myself, the bottom half of her body shot up on the tips of her shoes like a ballet dancer at full stretch and, incredibly, she stayed rigid in mid air for three or four seconds before slumping down on top of the table like a crow shot in the nest. Anna's head slid down into the gap between the end of the table and the wall and taking my hand off her mouth was like uncovering the exhaust inlet on a hard working steam engine. Well, at least she was still breathing. While the teacher was recovering I began frantically pulling on my uniform again. I used her panties to wipe my cock on and then shoved them in my pocket as a trophy. If the job kept on going the way it had started I reckoned I might be able to get together a good collection before long. "Phil? You're going?" Anna was back with me, her head lifted up and her right hand down between her opened legs as she played with herself. God, the bitch was insatiable once she got excited. "I've got to. Otherwise I'll be in real trouble. Sorry." She looked like a kid on Christmas morning waking up to find an empty sock: "What about me?" "It's all right, madam, I'll report you as a victim of a hit and run fucking." Anna laughed, then screwed up her eyes and drew in a deep breath as her fingers worked faster. "But I need another one now," she protested. "Sorry. But you know what they say, the criminal always comes back to the scene of the crime. You can grab him then." "Yes, but for now?" "For now, I've got to go." Anna sat up, slid her legs around, stood up as I struggled to refasten my collar clips. Had I got everything? Helmet, baton? Yes. Ready to go. Which wasn't easy because the head teacher was leaning over the table, her bare bottom towards me and still frigging herself off. It was like looking at the full moon reflected in rippling water because Anna was starting to gasp and wriggle as she got more excited. If it came to that I was getting stiff again myself. Given half a chance I would have been back up her like a rat up a drainpipe. But I didn't have half a chance. Anyway, always leave them wanting more, that was my philosophy. "You want me to bring a cane next time, Phil? You meant that?" God, but she was a glutton for punishment. "That's right, a cane. I'm going to make you beg for your next fuck, Mrs Morrison." Whap! Whap! A left and a right hander, one open handed full strength slap on each fat cheek and I was away, walking off between the boilers and leaving behind a head teacher who sounded as if she was going into labor. I slipped out of the building after making sure nobody was watching, then walked back to the telephone box with steps a yard long and going like the clappers. Got there just as it rang and the sergeant asked why I was out of breath. I said I'd got lost and had to hurry to get back to the box. Then he asked how I was liking the job so far and I said that it wasn't so bad after all. An hour later I was downing a pint of best bitter and wondering if Anna had finally managed to get herself dressed and off home. And next morning my landlady was brushing me down in my bedroom before I went on duty. "You young lads, you don't know the first thing about your own jobs," she said. "In the force, you always dress on the right. Like this." She put down the brush, got hold of my cock and pushed it over onto the right side of my flies. "There, that's the way it should be. But I suppose I'll have to do something about it for you every morning, won't I?" "Yes, Mrs Logan," I agreed. "I suppose you probably will." THE END The Beaten Trail We take the beaten trail to left knowing no one would stray from the clean cut trail leading the opposite direction and that no one would follow us. We could be alone at last. We hike up this trail until we found a clearing that suited us. It was a nice open clearing with a beautiful soft stream running thru it. I leave you to set up camp while I clean myself up from our long hike that morning. Also to get ready in what is to come soon rather than later. After I finish cleaning myself up I dress in nothing but a pair of tight fitting shorts that barley cover my bum and a bra that showed off my chest. I walk back then to the camp near were you stood. You don't notice me standing there. You were too engrossed in your work setting up the rest of our camp. I watched in silence as you laying out the rest of it and till your work was finished. I crept near you when you stood up looking proudly at what you have done. And that is when I made myself noticed. Coming behind you I wrapped my bear arms around you and kiss your cheek. I feel you smile as I kissed your face. You spun me around to be able to kiss me upon my lips. But you froze as I stood in front of you and all I did was just stand there smiling as you drunk me in. as you stood there drinking me in I watched you get turned on. Your member slowly rises struggling against your boxers. I laugh out loud breaking the silence between us. You smile back at me in your cocky grin of yours knowing what the night will bring. I smile back and close the gap between us. I kissed you back lightly but you would have none of that tonight. Your kisses became hurried and hungry as your hands run across my heated body. You stop nowhere leaving my more sensitive untouched for later. We go on like that till the lights started to fade in the distance. You reluctantly pulled away to start a fire to light the area. As you build the fire to a constant roar I pull our mats closer to the fire so, we feel the warmth from the fire. I lay there watching you till you're satisfied with your fire. Then you make your way over to me as you do you start taking off your clothes. I smile as you finally make it to where I laid. You kiss me as you lay next to me. I smiled as your hands explore my body. You feel limited as you reached my bra. I smile as you fumble with the clasp and when you finally get it I laughed. Which was a mistake of my mine since then you gave me your evil smile and without any warning you shredded my shorts. As soon as there was nothing covering me your hands become roaming my body. They stop at my boobs giving them special attention as you slowly kiss me. You move your kisses from my lips down to my boobs. You take a nipple into your mouth sucking on it while you play with other. Your free hand moves down my stomach to my pussy. You take my clit into your fingers rubbing it and playing with it till I can't take it no more. I moan out tell you to take me. You release me from your amazing grasped and I frown. You smile at me and laughed as you spread my legs wider. You take your dick and slowly place it inside of me. You move slowly till you reach my bearer. You give me a sad smile as you force your dick through my bearer. I gasp in pain and rake my finger nails in your back as you push through. But my gasps of pain quickly shift into moans of pleaser as you push your dick in and out of me. As I come closer to ecstasy I start to grind into you. I feel your dick expand as you build up to your breaking point. I scream as we both come together. Well spent you fall upon me and I welcome your weight. As you drift into sleep I kiss you lightly until you fall asleep. When you do I snuggle into your chest and I fall asleep with you still inside of me. The Beating of a Stranger's Heart It was a Wednesday evening, and once again I was alone. I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Sarah. I am 5'10" with shoulder length blonde hair -which I often curl- and blue eyes. I guess to be factual, while my eyes are blue they tend to change color slightly depending on my mood. I guess you could say that I have mood eyes. I wouldn't say I'm a "super model" by any means, but I have found that guys get turned on just from hearing me speak, so I usually get my way solely by the seductive nature of my voice alone. I guess it doesn't hurt that I'm also sensual, craving romance and passion, which often can be seen in the sheer intensity of my eyes. Unlike many women, there's never a moment that I don't want that intimacy. Lately my husband's hobbies have taken over where the physical intimacy has become less frequent, as a result it's left me lonely, aching, and desiring so much more! Tonight was unlike any other night. I was attending a weekly Bible study, and trying to focus. Amidst hearing the steady downpour of rain outside, I sensed I was being watched. I turned around slightly and saw a man I hadn't seen before staring intently at me -almost mentally undressing me with his eyes. I quickly turned around with the thought that I had to leave with the crowd. The study concluded and in my great hurry to leave, I nearly forgot my cell phone. I walked back to my chair grabbed my cell phone realising by now the building was practically empty. I also remembered I needed my umbrella and headed to the small alcove to find it; that's when I saw him! Not wanting to be seen, I instinctively placed my back to the wall, hoping and praying that he didn't see me. I closed my eyes and held my breath. When I dared to open my eyes, he was standing right in front of me. As I looked at him, I saw a broken heart and pure smoldering passion in his eyes. He leaned his head down and ever so gently kissed me on my lips, and while I should have turned down his advance, I didn't. There was no struggle on my part to fight back, there was simply pure desire to love and be loved in return, yet I knew that this was not right! Placing my hands at his chest. I gently pushed him back, telling him that I was sorry I couldn't possibly be unfaithful to my husband, and then I turned to leave. For a fleeting moment I thought I saw the passion turn to a wickedness I've never known. Thinking I was wrong, I continued to walk outside. I realised when I stepped outside that the rain had slowed to a steady drizzle. As I started the car and looked down at the instrument panel I noticed that I was low on gas. I prayed that I could at least get to the gas station. I finally got to the gas station, and noticed the same guy from the study was slowly driving by, in the direction I was soon to take. I finished filling up the car with gas, paid and hurried towards home. The rain by now had ended and I decided to roll the windows down to allow the cool nights air to waft through the car. I soon came to the outskirts of the city and while stopped at the traffic light, noticed that the lights on the dashboard began flickering and suddenly the engine cut out. "Oh great, either my alternator or battery is out!" I thought. That's when I saw the mysterious stranger again! I was scared, but not immediately so, as I had the car doors locked. Suddenly I heard my cell phone chirping, a reminder it would soon go dead. I looked up to see this man had ever so quietly approach my window, at this point I began to wish that I hadn't rolled the windows down. I was that frightened! The man lowered his face to where he caught my attention and said: "Trust me, get out of your car." I certainly didn't want to step out of the car, as I figured that I would be safer in my car. While debating my decision, I glanced up to see a gun in his hand and he urgently and more forcefully said: "Step out of the car!" At this point I really didn't see any other option and grudgingly and hesitantly got out of the car. He placed the muzzle against my back and lead me to a vacant, abandoned building on the side of the road. He quickly took my purse, and smashed my cell phone. "Why did you do that?" I wailed, suddenly realising that I was now without any hope of help. As the man continued forcing me to walk ahead of him, my car exploded. "That is why you should trust me - know that I can harm you and anyone you love." I was unsure of what was happening, and least of all why any of this was happening to me. I had been lead by a man that I didn't know into a vacant, abandoned building, I had no cell phone, I was on the outskirts of the city, and I had no way to let anyone know where I was. Upon entering the building I saw a bed in the corner of the room and a sense of dread filled my heart. At this point I had not said anything, and that's when he spoke to me. "Sarah, you don't know me, but for the longest time I've watched you, I've seen the hurt in your eyes, I've seen the longing in your heart to be loved." Naturally I denied what the man said and told him he was mistaken that I was quite content with my marriage. He merely laughed. Feeling my face flush with warmth, I thought of slapping him, but remembered the gun. Wanting to hide the obvious effect his statement had caused, I turned my back to him, afraid that I couldn't hide what my eyes surely were revealing! There was longing and desire in my eyes. I was afraid that he would see the tears that were threatening to spill. I was afraid that he would see how much I had been hurt, but ultimately I was afraid that he would do what I've always wanted my husband to do. Turning my back wasn't the worst thing I could have done, but it wasn't the smartest thing to have done either. He was soon at my side, and I begged him to let me leave and started hitting him with my clenched fists. "Please let me go! I promise I won't mention the abduction if you just let me go!" He grabbed my flailing wrists and commented, "I see you're going to be trouble for me." Suddenly I heard the sickening sound of handcuffs clicking into place. I felt his hand sweep my hair to the side and felt a warm kiss of passion on the nape of my neck. I couldn't move, I couldn't speak. I felt myself being turned around ever so slowly, and once again I could see the glimmer of an intense passion in his eyes. I tried to cry out, I tried to tell him that I didn't want this, yet no words came. I felt nothing. My heart was crying out for someone to care about me, someone to love me, yet I said nothing, I didn't even react to this man, I didn't struggle, I just stood there frozen in time. I felt a finger gently touching my chin, to lift my face so I could see this man in the shadow. "Look at me Sarah." I fiercely shook my head. "Fine have it your way" he calmly said, and in a moment I was blindfolded. He might have me handcuffed and blindfolded, but I was determined that no matter how much I was craving attention and affection, this man wouldn't know it. I felt him unbutton my shirt, felt him place his hand over my heart. I could almost sense that he was frustrated that I wasn't responding to his advances. I felt his efforts intensify, to let me know that he was not giving up that quickly. I fainted. The next thing I knew, this man had his mouth covering mine and I struggled to break free. I couldn't allow this to happen. I simply cried: "Please let me go! I don't want this to happen please let me go!" He merely laughed at me. I didn't want this to happen, not here, not now, not ever! I felt his hand brush against my leg, and knew that this had to stop! I couldn't understand how such gentleness could be paired with a criminal desire. I felt him remove my bra, and quickly my nipples tightened up. My body was betraying me! He quickly covered my left breast with his mouth, sucking, coaxing the tiny bud and with his left hand he kneaded my right breast, lightly pinching my nipple as I whimpered and begged him to stop. "Oh Sarah, you know that you're enjoying this, and I am loving every bit of your delicious body. You're a very sensual woman, no denying that and I can tell that you want this!" I let out a choking cry to ask him to stop again, and all he did was laugh and cover my mouth with his mouth for a kiss that I was trying SO very hard to not respond to. With tears pouring down, the blindfold became soaked. I couldn't help wonder what my husband would think! Would he know that this was not what I wanted? I knew that even though I might have had a desire and a craving for passion, it was only in my mind and I knew I could never betray my marital vows! I felt myself being lowered to the bed and my heart broke, knowing that no one would be coming for me. I felt hard, rough hands caress my body and his breath upon my ear as he asked me what I wanted. I said: "I just want to be safe in my own home with my husband." He laughed and asked me, "How can you possibly want a man who ignores your needs?" and he kissed me once more. Noticing the wet blindfold, he removed it. I screamed at him that if he was going to rape me I didn't want to be reminded of his face, even though I couldn't make out any of his features in the shadows of the dimly lit room. His next words chilled me to the bone as he said: "Sarah, baby I'm not planning on raping you, I plan on making love to you." "Bastard!" I shouted at him, "let me go!" "Oh Sarah, baby don't get fiesty, I can make this pleasant or painful for you, which would you like?" "Well why don't you blindfold me again and gag me, you already have me handcuffed you vicious, arrogant jerk!" I screamed at him. In a small, yet serious voice he said: "Sarah, I don't take kindly to insults. You will not be blindfolded, and you will not be gagged. You see, I want to look in your beautiful eyes when you cum. I want you to scream and tell me how good I am. I won't get that pleasure from you if you're blindfolded and gagged. Now if you can behave, I'll remove the handcuffs." I hastily nodded my agreement, as the handcuffs had been cutting into my wrists. "How could someone be so heartless, cold and calculating?" I wondered. I felt my skirt being slowly shoved up, and felt a foreign hand on my thigh. I inwardly groaned, remembering I had not worn any panties that day. I felt his hand inch up my thighs, and heard a sharp gasp as he discovered that I was not wearing any panties. I kept trying to not respond, and yet I wanted this! I wanted to be treasured, I wanted that intimacy, I wanted to be desired! I saw a vicious desire that he would have me, regardless of whether I surrendered myself, or if he took me by force, he would have me! I saw unadulterated passion in his eyes, as he knelt between my legs, and looked at the glistening moisture that I felt pooling at the apex of my thighs. I felt him tease my clit with his finger before lowering his head to lick me. I tried clenching my thighs, trying to prevent the buildup of a pending orgasm. Oh how I hated my body for betraying me! I couldn't help but buck my hips as he continued his assault with his tongue. He could sense that I was on the brink of orgasm and whispered "Cum for me Sarah." I didn't even know him, and yet I was on the brink of orgasm! I had no way to stop my back from arching up. I felt my face flushing and my heart racing as this orgasm raced through my body, making me writhe, moan and whimper! I couldn't believe that I was cumming for him! He seemed happy and satisfied, and he quickly turned his attention to my breasts, to see that my nipples were still tight little buds. I felt his mouth on my breast, and my traitorous body arched up wanting to give him more. He quickly removed his clothes, and I gasped when I saw how thick his erection was! He chuckled and to my shame I was intensely aroused by his size. He poised himself between my legs to enter me. "Please no, please don't do this!" I cried, all to no avail. I heard an intense guttural cry as he entered me. I felt a sharp pain as he stretched me and I screamed out "NO! It hurts!" He continued pushing into me inch by inch, and finally asked, "Baby you are SO tight, have you ever been fucked by a real man?" Feeling such outrage I said: "How dare you ask me that! I'm not a virgin, but you're hurting me, get off me! I don't want this!" "Oh Sarah darlin' you're quite the vixen, you keep saying you don't want this, and yet I entered you with no trouble! Don't deny it, you were ready, wet and you wanted this! Why else would you have left your panties at home?" I felt an intense flush come over my entire face as he said that. He stayed still for a moment and as my body adjusted to accommodate his thick rod. I fought to deny the passion that he surely could see in my eyes, and face. I felt the intensity of his strength shuddering throughout my body, as he started slowing thrusting in and out of me, and then faster, deeper, and harder. Despite myself, I began to arch my back, I began thrusting my hips up to match his thrusting, and I wrapped my legs around him. I found myself on the brink of passion, the desire to cry out and to realise if I cried out, it would surely seem as though I had wanted this. I felt his lips on my breast, I felt his strength radiate through my being, I ran my hands through his hair, and in that instant I cried out with an intense passion and found myself no longer scared of my captor and no longer denying the pent up passion. I felt the life force drain from his body, as he gave one final thrust and his cum sprayed inside me. I heard his heart pounding from the passion that he not only commanded, but I gave. Just as quickly as the incident occurred, it was over. I lay shivering in the cold dark room, scared to know what would my husband think. Should I tell him what had happened? As I lay on the bed, a blanket was placed over me, and I drifted off to sleep, wrapped in his arms, listening to the beating of a strangers heart.