Chapter 6
Three days after the bridal shower, Betty, Frieda and her mother were sitting in the kitchen having breakfast together. Frieda stirred her coffee absently, her mind occupied with possible ideas on how to deal with Max. Exposure was out of the question, at least for now. The scandal would ruin them all, and she didn't know how her mother would take it. How she could have married him she would never know! Didn't she see what he was really like? Frieda looked intently at her mother, who was busily reading the front page of the morning paper. No; intelligence and perception just weren't qualities that her mother had.
"Well, look at this!" her mother exclaimed.
"Hmmm?" Frieda mumbled, taking a sip of her coffee.
"You knew a Bill Greene, didn't you, Frieda?"
Frieda almost jumped out of her chair. Did she know a Bill Greene? My God, they had fucked themselves raw the night before their college commencement!
"Of course. We dated off and on at college. Why?"
"Well, it says here that he's coming to town to coordinate police efforts in the area to break up some kind of, oh my, prostitution and dope ring. Can you believe that? Right here!"
Frieda jumped out of her chair and ran behind her mother to see the article she was reading. Her eyes traveled slowly down the page until they landed on Bill's name. She was right! Bill was coming, was probably already there, up from Los Angeles where he'd been working on the vice squad, to help the local authorities bust up a ring of hookers and dopers working together in their neighborhood. The news was almost too good to be true! Suddenly Frieda felt a weight lifted off her mind. Here was someone to help her . . . Bill! She'd tell him everything. If anybody could help her, he could.
"What's the excitement, Frieda?" Betty asked, noticing her bright smile.
"Oh, this Bill Greene, we dated in college-serious, sort of, for a little while. In any case, I thought I'd look him up, maybe today, since he's in town."
"That would be nice, Frieda," her mother said. "After all, you should be thinking of getting married, now that Brian's going to. Just think...if you and Bill. .. why, that'd be three marriages in a row. Like good luck, or something."
"Not really, Mother. In any case, maybe he could help me out with a few problems."
"Problems? As if you could have any problems that would need his attention. He works with vice, Frieda, not parking tickets," her mother said, patting her daughter on the shoulder and continuing to read her paper. But Frieda had made up her mind. She looked over at Betty, who had guessed her intentions and nodded approval.
Frieda ran upstairs and tried to decide what to wear. Vllgo as Betty coed, she thought, pulling out a white wool sweater that was a size or two too small. Just right for him, she said to herself as she slipped it on.
In a matter of minutes she was back downstairs, kissing her mother goodbye. She knew that her outfit was appealing; Betty nearly leaped out of her seat and clamped her lips onto her tits.
On the way to the station Frieda thought of Bill. She wondered why he appealed to her more than other other guys she went out with, and came to the conclusion that he resembled her brother, Brian. The realization nearly made her go off the road. That's why the night of the graduation ball her cunt dripped juice over the dance floor; why she couldn't get enough of Bill's cock afterward. She couldn't have Brian then, so she settled for Bill.
Her clit tingled, and she remembered when Bill had first fucked her. He had plunged forward again and again, strumming her clit as if it were a guitar string. And whenever he touched the bud's sensitive tip, whenever he grasped it between two fingers and rolled it around like a pea, Frieda almost pissed on the grass.
Oh Jesus, I can smell cunt juice again, she thought as she turned into the drive of the police station. Before she climbed out of the car, Frieda ran a quick check of her skirt and legs.
If Betty's hanging tongue weren't enough proof that her outfit would turn heads...especially Bill's...the cops' looks as she walked by them to the information desk made her reasonably certain that she'd make the impression she wanted to on him.
"Bill Greene, please," she cooed to the sergeant at the desk who gaped at her protruding tits like an imbecile. "Uh, is Bill Greene in?" Finally, she reached him as she waved her hand in front of his face.
"Uh, what do you want, lady?"
"Bill Greene. Is he in?"
The sergeant smiled...it was more like a leer...and asked her in a sugary voice just who was calling.
"Tell him Frieda Thatcher. Hell know who it is."
He disappeared into a room to the left for a few seconds; then she heard the door open again. Frieda was truly elated as he stepped through the doorway, smiling at her. His eyes were still that misty blue-green, and glistening in a way that used to melt her cunt. He still had the same full shock of blond hair, the same slightly upturned nose, warm, relaxed, gentle mouth, and that jutting chin that all the girls used to joke about. The years had indeed been kind to him, although it was only two years since they'd seen one another.
"Frieda Thatcher! Christ, you're looking fantastic!" He put both his strong hands on her arms and leaned slightly back to take her all in with his eyes. She felt them trailing along her tits, rubbing against her nipples that she felt were growing taut, slipping down to her navel, and then, finally to her cunt. She shook herself free of the erotic fantasy she was building for herself.
They exchanged pleasantries, then Frieda suggested that they talk privately. She thought she saw a spark of desire flash across his face for an instant...but maybe she was wrong.
As she walked into the room in front of Bill, Frieda was sure she heard the lock click a second after the door shut. Well, III play any game he wants to, she thought as she sat down on the leather couch next to his desk.
"So, I read where you're in town to help with some vice problems," Frieda said nonchalantly.
Bill said nothing at first. He just stood by the door, staring at her mammoth tite, then shifting his glance down to her well-exposed thighs. Frieda began to wonder if she should have worn this outfit. She wanted to get his attention, but not so completely that he couldn't talk.
"I said-"
"Oh, yeah, your chief called my office and told me that the problem they had here was really getting out of control. Say, you wore that sweater when you were in college, didn't you?"
Frieda was aware that Bill was intent on changing the subject, but she wanted to shift the conversation to her reason for coming.
"Yes, several times. Anyway, I've got some problems that I could use some help with, and ... "
"You have problems?" Bill smiled that smile that she new was reflecting a raging hard-on under his fly. They stared intensely at each other, Frieda sensing that they both could feel the air becoming superheated between them, a strong, hot feeling passing from him to her, and from her to him again. Their breathing became heavy. Frieda began to feel her cunt twitch again, and could detect the faint aroma of cunt juice in the air around her.
He kept looking hotly at her, passing fast, hot glances down her body, taking in the sight of her huge tits moving softly in her sweater, letting his eyes dart to her feet, up to her thighs, to her waist, and back up to her tits again.
Everything began to swim before her eyes, and suddenly Bill was against her, pressing his mouth against hers, pushing her lips apart, forcing his thick, wiggling tongue past her teeth, shoving it inward into the hot, wet recesses of her mouth. It burrowed its way past her teeth, into the hollow of her throat, while at the same time and at the same tempo their loins rose and fell, twisted and jerked, moved back and forth.
His arms were around her. He kissed her passionately, longingly, twisting his fingers in her hair, then holding her tightly, kissing her more roughly.
Frieda was swimming with desire. She felt as warm, as erotic as she did with Brian. It was an overwhelming, an all-encompassing feeling, making her go limp in his arMs. She felt her cunt ache, screaming for a satisfaction she knew Bill could give her. She felt his hands reach up and cup her tits, grabbing and pulling at them and tugging them forward in a milking action. Bill broke from her mouth and plunged his tongue in her ear, and he began to bite and nibble there, still grappling at her big tits. Frieda could feel the juice soaking through her panties, and she knew her entire body was begging for him.
Her hand went almost involuntarily to his leg, her palm flat on top of his thigh, then it moved up a little to his fly. Frieda recognized the size and shape of his massive cock even through the thick material of his pants. She felt it throb at her light touch.
He groaned softly, then moved his hands behind her. She felt him begin to unbutton her sweater. She felt his hands against her bare shoulder. Next she felt the clasp of her bra unfasten, and within seconds his hands were clenching the flesh of the sides of her tits.
"Wait," she said, backing away from him. Frieda wriggled desperately out of her skirt, then stepped out of her panties. Before she knew what was happening, she felt his two enormous hands go around her asscheeks, and she felt the hot aching of her cunt suddenly satisfied by the bursting shot of pleasure that his mouth gave it. His tongue slid up and down the surface of her crack, moistening and soaking the walls of her inner cunt, tugging at her swollen cuntlips until they hung open invitingly. He searched hungrily up the throat of her twat, taking his tongue out and shooting it back up again with a speed that surprised her.
Frieda began to feel the contractions stirring in her stomach, in her knees, inside the dark, hungry tunnel of her burning cunt. She was going to cum! Oh God, she was going to cum standing up, and only a few seconds after Bill had stuck his tongue in her cunt.
She felt the twitches start, and began to push with her asscheeks toward his chin, bucking slightly with the help of his hands as they held her ass, making her feel every twinge. Then it was too much, because she gasped and let it all go.
"Oooooh, nooooo!"
Bill withdrew his tongue suddenly, leaving her teetering on the brink of climax. That son-of-a-bitch! She was ready to explode, and he was playing games.
"Not yet, honey. You're going to cum, all right, but with me inside you."
Bill stood up and slipped out of his clothes. Frieda admired his deeply tanned skin and the thick matting of hair covering his body. Her eyes traveled to his stiff cock jerking in the air. The cockhead was flanged out over the shaft. Already, drops of juice were bubbling out of his piss-hole. Bill reached down with his hand and rubbed his palm around the tip, then ran it down the shaft slowly, twisting and lubricating the taut hot skin of his throbbing cock. Frieda licked her lips. She wanted to take that cock, those balls, in her mouth. Brian had broken her into oral sex; now it was time to see how well she could do on her own. She didn't count the rape scene with her stepbrother. This would be pure enjoyment, she thought to herself as she rushed forward and dropped to her knees.
Bill realized what she was going to do, and moaned softly, "Suck my balls." His balls were big, much bigger than Tommy's and even Brian's. Clsoing her eyes, she brought her front teeth together against the wrinkled flesh. She almost gagged on the mouthful of testicles and skin. But, she swore that she would do this right.
She hek his balls in her mouth, moving her tongue around a little and keeping his nuts nice and warm. She heard Bill let out a groan of delight. She applied suction, felt the balls and skin being drawn to the back of her throat, and heard him whimper for more. He wanted more? All right, she intended to drive him up the walls like he had done to her two years ago.
She reached up to grab Bill's cock, knowing that he would like it if she did. She was rewarded by a guttural cry as she took some drops of cum between her fingers and greased the hot length of his bobbing cockshaft.
Frieda let go of Bill's balls, tracing tiny wet circles up his quivering shaft. She watched it jump up and down as her tongue ran along the protruding veins.
"Easy, easy, baby," Bill groaned as Frieda moved closer to his cockhead. Frieda felt her cunt twitching angrily for relief as she ran her tongue up and down the underside of his cock.
"I can't take this much longer," she moaned, pulling away from him and standing up.
"You can't?" he replied, smiling. Then he took her by the hand and led her to the couch. Before she knew it, Bill was between her legs, his face buried in her crotch, and he was pulling her cuntlips apart with the thumbs and index fingers of both his hands. She felt the cool air of the room wafting into her hot cunt. Suddenly he was pushing forward, burying his tongue in her cunt and slurping, mixing his saliva with her vaginal juices.
"Mmmmm," he said as he rubbed his nose in her cunt. Frieda could feel the taut membranes stretching as his nose pushed inward. Frieda felt fingers resting on the inner surfaces of her left thigh. They were moving upward toward her cunt. She wondered how he could finger-fuck her if he was busy sticking his nose in her cunt. Well, Bill Greene was a master of sexual manipulation. If anybody could do it, he could, as most of the coeds on the campus could testify to. The fingers were moving closer, closer. Then he was moving them farther back, toward her asshole. He was getting even closer now; the fingers were toying with the tufts of pubic hair that grew along her perineum, and now he was moving two fingertips into the cleft of her asscheeks, right over the asshole, and then he was sticking his finger up her asshole. His dry forefinger was doing most of the work, pushing hard against the tight opening and digging into her flesh with its blunt nail. She wanted to yell, but didn't dare. There were too many people outside. Besides, he was licking her clit and, God, it felt so warm and wet and good. Oh! Two joints of his finger were in her ass now. It hurt, but she couldn't say anything because he'd pursed his lips over her clit and was sucking gently, and it felt so nice, and her clit was swelling to what felt like an enormous size.
Frieda sighed. It was a long, shuddering response, and she did it again as Bill slowly removed his finger from her asshole and moved it to the delicate perineal ridge. He was moving forward toward her cunt, the finger sliding over the slick membranes to her opening. Then it was pushing into her cunt and she could feel it scraping along the slippery cunt wall as his teeth nibbled on her clitoris.
Suddenly he pulled away.
"Let's fuck!" he said hoarsely. He went about it simply and straightforwardly and without hesitation, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for the two of them to be fucking.
He was biting each of her tits in turn, taking the nipples one at a time and nibbling on them gently, savoring their stiffness and their half-inch length, and now he was licking her cleavage, running his tongue to and fro in the valley between her tits, and his fingers were grabbing her clit again, rolling it back and forth, massaging it gently so that she felt her cunt muscles growing tauter, tauter, while her asshole tingled and her stomach muscles stiffened and her entire body tensed itself for the climax to come.
"I thought you said we were going to fuck," she whispered, barely able to get the words out.
Bill smiled at her. "Impatient, aren't you. Hell, Frieda, you haven't changed one bit."
Before she got a chance to think that last statement over, she felt his enormous, hot cock part her cuntlips as if they were two little waves. It climbed slowly, steadily up her cunt until she could feel with her wet walls every square inch of it poking and throbbing and searching its way along her twat. She felt incredibly stuffed. She took a deep breath and tightened her cunt muscles around the prick. Bill pulled back slightly, then gave another forward shove.
Frieda shuddered. It felt so good, so very good. "Fuck me," she whispered softly, and the words excited her. "Fuck me!" she repeated more loudly, and there was a definite trembling in her loins.
"I'll fuck you, all right," Bill growled. He was near climax; he could feel the jism boiling in his balls, about to explode into his cunt-buried cock and spurt out in delicious wads. He balanced on his left arm as he reached between their bodies and found her clitoris with his index finger. He massaged the clit, simultaneously rubbing her hairy pubic mound with his thumb, until Frieda thought she would explode with excitement.
"I..." She couldn't say the next word, let alone finish the sentence. Suddenly she was on a cloud, floating in a sky filled with thunder and lightning. She could smell her own cunt juice as she slammed forward, backward, and from side to side. Her body bucked and jerked with rising tension until now she was whimpering with each spasm that tore her body and squeezed Bill's cock so that it fired its heavy hot load of cum into her slick and slowly slackening cunt.
It seemed like hours before the two of them stopped tossing and rolling on the couch. Bill was the first to speak.
"No, you haven't changed, Frieda. You've still got the most sensitive pussy I've ever fucked."
"Well, I guess that's a compliment of sorts," she said, feeling flattered that Bill still appreciated her strenuous sexual acrobatics. "But that wasn't the reason I came here today. Bill, I've got some pretty big problems with my stepfather, and thought you might be able to help me out." "Your mother remarried?" "Yes, to a pig by the name of Max Berger." Frieda saw Bill's face change suddenly. His eyes narrowed, and his smile turned quickly to a scowl. Something she had said had produced this change. Could it be her mother's remarriage?
"Max Berger?" Bill said softly. "About forty, heavyset?"
"Why, yes," Frieda said, surprised that he should seem to know her stepfather. "And he has an idiot son by the name of Tommy?"
Bill grew suddenly quiet. Frieda saw that i imething was wrong.
"What about him? You know something, don't you Bill?"
"Well, I don't think I should tell you anything. Not right away."
"Ouch," she said when he pulled his cock out of her cunt and started going for a wall closet to get some towels. Her twat was hurting.
"Sorry about that," he said, smiling, trying to cover up his obvious concern.
"Bill Greene, I know you well enough to see that you're hiding something. Maybe after what I tell you he's done to me and my future sister-in-law, you'll see fit to tell me what you've got on him." Frieda decided that this was no time to hide her relationship with her brother and his fiancee. Besides, there were rumors when she was in college that Bill had a thing going with his sister. In any case, he was anything but a prude.
After Frieda told him the entire story...the three-way in the bedroom, the pictures Max took, her rapes in the basement and in the woods, and the beatings suffered both by her and Betty, Bill sat down and stared blankly at her.
"Whew!" he finally whistled. "You've really been busy, haven't you?"
"I didn't come here for comments," Frieda said, slightly ashamed that she had spilled out the truth to him, only to be apparently laughed at or scorned. But Bill obviously realized he'd made the wrong move, and got up quickly, grabbing her gently by the shoulders.
"Now listen. I'm going to tell you a secret. You read about how I'm up here on a case, right?" Frieda nodded.
"Well, we got some leads on who's responsible for this dope and hooker ring. It seems that the head man had a good operation going on in L.A. until we started leaning on him. For a while, it was hard going trying to get anything on him. Finally, one of the girls came in and spilled out as much as she knew about the operation. Obviously, she was close enough to the top to see most of the business going on."
"She took a chance," Frieda interrupted. "Yeah, but it was that or be used for dog bait."
"What?"
"This guy serviced a strange group of people, guys who went in for kinky sex...pissing, shitting, getting fucked by animals. They enjoyed doing it, or watching it being done to women. The head man started the girls off on regular streetwalking, then got them hooked on drugs...heroin, most often. Then, he dried up their supply and they'd do anything to get it back. That's when he had them. He could tell them to eat a pile of monkey shit and they would."
Frieda shuddered as she wondered who this animal could be to turn women into animals.
"Everything went along smoothly enough, until some of the girls started to disappear. Rumors started spreading around the girls that this guy was killing off the ones who couldn't perform as well as Jiey used to. That way, he never had to worry about anybody talking."
Frieda felt shivers run through her body, though t couldn't understand why. The story was horrible enough, but why did she feel as if she knew the story? There was something in Bill's tone of voice, something that told her she was somehow involved in this entire mess.
"He had a good drug business going on the side too...mostly hard stuff. Like I said, everything went smoothly until we got wind of his operation and started sniffing. The girls about this time were nervous because of those rumors of the killings. Finally, one cracked and came running to us. She never saw the man, and didn't know where his office was, but she did know his name...Nat Polaski."
Frieda noticed that Bill was looking at her intently. Why?
"We raided his house the next day, but he was gone. Somehow he'd discovered we were on to him, so he up and left. Didn't leave a trace of evidence behind him. No records, no prints, nothing. We ran a check on him and found out that he had a list of aliases. One of them was Max Berger!"
Frieda's blood ran cold. She felt faint, and reeled forward. Bill reached out and grabbed her. "Oh my God! Oh my God!" she kept repeating. "My mother's gone off and married that animal? Oh my God, my God!"
"Easy, Frieda. I'm not sure. The description you gave me sounds like him, but it could fit a million other guys...and there are plenty of people around with his name."
"Oh my God," she kept moaning, cradleing her head in her hands. She" felt as though she were going to vomit. Max, her mother's husband, her stepfather, a dope pusher, white slaver, and maybe a murderer! Frieda's thoughts spun around in her head wildly as Bill tried to calm her down. Finally she got control her herself, and decided to help Bill in any way she could.
"I want to help, Bill," Frieda said determinedly. "If I can do anything to put that, that..." Frieda couldn't find a word to describe Max, so she just let it drop. "I'd be helping us both."
"Good girl. Now, you've got access to most of the rooms in your house, right?"
Frieda nodded.
"You must've seen Max working on papers on a desk, or some place where he seems to keep his personal things."
Frieda thought a minute, then remembered one time when she walked unexpectedly into the den and saw Max writing in what looked like a ledger book. When he saw her come in, he acted nervous and shoved the book into the top drawer of her first father's desk. She remembered that incident well, because she resented him using anything in the house that she associated with her real father.
"In a desk...in the den. It looked like the kind of book accountants use."
"That's a start. I want you to look around, especially in that desk, and see if you can find anything...diaries, letters, accounts...anything that looks suspicious and bring them to me. If we work fast, we can find out if he's the Max Berger I'm looking for."
"I know he is," Frieda said, feeling her spine shudder in revulsion as she thought of him.
Bill put his arm around her, and suddenly all thoughts of Max disappeared. She felt warm, protected, and horny again. God! He could do that to her, make her forget about someone like Max living in her own home, under her nose, and only think about her cock-starved cunt. Frieda couldn't help but giggle. Cock-starved! Jesus, he'd been out of her only for a few minutes, and already she was thinking of her cunt as needing more prick.
"I want to kiss you, Bill."
"Hey, cut it out. You'd better start getting on home to look..."
"I want to kiss your cock, Bill." She giggled. "Frieda..."
"I want to suck it stiff so you can stuff it in my cunt, Bill. It needs you again."
Bill sighed. "Aren't you going to get out of here to look for the papers?" he asked as he leaned against the wall and spread his legs slightly. Frieda looked down and saw that his cock was beginning to redden, then it was stretching, crawling forward from his forest of bushy pubic hair.
She took the cock into her mouth and began to suck on it gently. The soft knob felt like a hunk of sponge at first, but it quickly grew firmer as she ran her tongue along the cleft on its underside.
"Ummmm!" Bill moaned as Frieda's lips went down to the root of his cock. Not too many girls had been able to arouse him so quickly after already cumming, let alone take in his cock all the way without gagging. Frieda was slowly wrapping her tongue around the shaft, working her way up to the cockhead.
"Go home, Frieda," Bill said softly, pumping his thighs off the couch, thrusting his cock deeply into Frieda's sucking mouth. "Go home, after you finish your job here."
She giggled and slid her fingers under his balls. "Someday," she said, her words muffled by her mouthful of stiff cock.