Chapter 1
I drove west in the best car I ever owned, over 4,000 miles from one side of the country to the other. From New York City across part of Canada and down through Michigan, across the flat Midwest at 80 mph, cruising. Me humming to myself, one hand on the wheel, happy as a lark, driving 80 on Interstate 80. Rolling down off the superhighway to the Southwest and along the north rim of the Grand Canyon and across the Mojave to Los Angeles and then north to where I was now-stretched out on my back in a jail cell in Longport, California, somewhere in the rolling, cypress-dotted mountains that fall down into the Pacific Ocean north of San Francisco.
It was a very nice feeling to be twenty-one years old and free of responsibility anywhere in the world except getting to my summer job with the Forest Service at Mt Shasta sometime in the next week. A good feeling to be hooked on nothing, with the possible exception of girls; and to have discovered at my young age that girls can be the most singular and kindest creatures on earth. I thought I was king of the world, and if not king then I certainly was the next thing above king.
Then why was I in jail? Locked up for two days in the Longport hoosegow?
And why, on my last night in jail, was the sheriff's young wife in the cell with me, breathing on my bare chest?
I had been sound asleep, wearing only my pants in the warm night, when her soft touch on my stomach woke me gently. She said quietly, "It's me, lie still."
For a moment I was afraid she had come to break me out, or that she wanted me to take her away from her husband. I didn't want to do either, because the sheriff, her husband, had told me I was getting out in the morning and he had promised me a tank of gas to help get me out of town.
Her breath was warm and moist against my bare stomach. She licked some of the fine hairs around my navel. Her right hand slid over my thigh, her palm against the inside of my leg.
I could do nothing. If her husband decided to check the cells, God forbid, he could have shot me dead. And I couldn't call to him for help, either. And I couldn't push his wife away, for fear she'd get pissed off and call him herself. And I didn't want to push her away. It had been a long, barren drive across country and from the two times I had seen the sheriff's wife I liked her.
She was the kind of gentle-looking, brown-haired girl you see on the sidewalks of little towns all the way across the country. The kind who married a successful man in her hometown and never moved away, but always kept in the back of her mind the realization that if she had only been a little prettier, a bit flashier, more willing to screw, she might have made it with one of the really successful kids who moved from the little town to San Francisco, LA, Chicago, or maybe even all the way to New York. But since she had been this pretty, but shy girl, nice-bodied but not too aware of how to use it, she had married the local banker, or real-estate salesman, or theater manager. In Bea's case, she had married the local deputy sheriff who in two years had become the local sheriff. He was several years older than she was and had a round paunch hanging over his gun belt He drove around town in a pickup truck waving at all the business men and scowling at congregations of four or more teenagers. He was probably forty or so and had worked for the Sheriff's Department for fifteen years. He told me so himself, proudly.
Bea was in her late twenties. She had no round paunch in front at all, only a tight stomach and two very bouncy tits. And she wore no gun belt
"Do you have to leave tomorrow?" She asked.
"The sheriff promised me a tank of gas to get me on the road."
She smiled, with the yellow streetlight outside the window illuminating her face. The bars cast strange shadows over both of us. "I wish you had six months to serve. Right here."
I shuddered. If she mentioned that desire to her husband, he was strong enough in the town to make it come true for her. All I wanted was out I wasn't far from Mt Shasta now and I had eight days in which to get there, but I didn't want to get tangled up in a little town with the sheriff's wife. I might not get out for eighty days, or ever,if that happened.
Her right hand slid up along my balls. I wasn't wearing shorts under my pants and she felt my balls through my pants, found my prick and pressed her palm against it. In seconds it was at full stand, even scared as I was. She measured its length with her fingers, then pressed it against my stomach.
I remembered the two times I had seen Bea, moving? back and forth through the sheriff's office. I remembered how her tight jeans fitted her ass.
I reached my hand over and touched her side. I wanted to get inside her pants, but I also wanted out of jail.
I was in here for the dumbest of reasons:
I had pulled my car to the side of the road near a little lake outside town, stripped off my clothes and jumped in. There hadn't seemed to be anybody around who would object, and besides, taking a skinnydip at the old swimming hole was an established American custom.
But apparently around Longport, California, they don't do it in the noonday sun.
As I was splashing around in the water I saw the the sheriff's car pull up beside mine. He climbed out and waited patiently, smoking a cigar and reading through a fat book, his radio buzzing static, while I finished my swim. When I climbed out on the bank he handed me a towel and my pants. Only when I was properly dressed did he tell me I was under arrest. "Why?" I protested.
"For changing clothes in a car within ten feet of a public highway. Here it is," he said, pointing to a few lines in the book he had been searching through. "It's the law," he explained.
The judge, nothing more than some glorified notarypublic, sentenced me to fifty dollars or five days in jail, three days suspended.
I decided, since I had never been to jail and the car could use the rest, to take the time. And because of my innocence and youth, he said, the sheriff gave me a city job raking leaves around the courthouse, sweeping the jail, and hauling obsolete records out of the judicial building and burning them in a barrel in the backyard. The sheriff calculated that I worked hard enough to have my impounded car filled with city gas to help get me up the road. "And don't go swimming naked that close to a highway again. Some of our local matrons might see you and drive right into the lake and that would be very embarrassing for everybody, especially me since I am charged with the responsibility of protecting people. Right?"
"Right," I agreed, poking the burning divorce and child custody records with a stick.
And now his wife knelt beside me. She opened her shirt and slid her right nipple into my mouth. She had a pretty, round face and I remembered the way she looked at me the first day I was brought in. I remembered the way she carried her breasts-high and proud as if she knew she could have gotten out of this little town if she had screwed the right guys, if she hadn't had so much pride when she was young.
With her thumb and forefinger, she unbuttoned my pants and eased down the zipper. Her cool hand went inside to circle my cock and lift it into the air. Her elbow slid between my legs and her wrist pressed against my balls.
Her nipple was excited between my lips. I ran my tongue across its tender roughness. It stood up almost as hard as my prick. I opened my mouth more and sucked more of her tit inside and circled the nipple fast with the tip of my tongue.
Then, again, I remembered where I was. I had not minded working for her husband, sweeping his jail, raking leaves, but I did not want him to shoot me. I didn't want to get caught screwing the sheriff's wife in the sheriff's very own cell. "Where is he?" I asked breathlessly.
"Stop worrying." Her breath was warm, smelled sweet, and a light fragrance from her perfume covered the usually musty odors that filled the cell. "He's sound asleep. He's like a rock. He won't wake up."
I touched her cheek with my fingers. "I don't want him to wake up."
She lay her head against my ribs. "You can't be very old."
I slid my fingers into her hair. It was long and straight, like a country-girl's hair. She had just washed it; it was soft and thick. "I was twenty-one last month."
"That's sweet That's awful sweet" She moved her hand up and down on my cock. "Twenty-one is a fine age. Are you a virgin?"
I chuckled. "Mrs. Anderson, don't be silly. This is 1975. There aren't any virgins left"
She gave my balls a tender squeeze. "Don't be silly. Or uppity. There are lots of virgins around, and you'll find them." She kissed my belly button again. I rolled her left nipple between my fingers. "You going back East when you get out?"
"Up to Mt Shasta. I've got a job up there this summer. Forest Lookout"
"That sounds like fun. Lonely, though."
I had thought about that. I wasn't sure what I could do about girls up there on the mountain. Probably nothing. That was the only part of the job that made me hesitate.
"Be careful in little towns," Bea said. "Most sheriffs aren't like my husband."
"I doubt if very many have wives like you, either."
"My husband is the only one who has a wife like me."
"I'll watch out in little towns," I promised.
"I'm glad you got caught in this one. I've watched you since he brought you in. I didn't have the nerve to come in here until now. I've been thinking about you, and about what you've got down here."
She passed her mouth along my cock, her breath warming its tender skin.
"I like to think about you going up to the lookout," she said. "I'd like to spend the summer up there with you."
"Are you sure your husband isn't going to wake up?"
"I'm sure. He won't wake up. You and I are alone, and we've got the whole rest of the night."
"That's all we've got," I reminded her. "Tomorrow, it's back on the road for me. I have to get up to Shasta for my job."
"That's what makes tonight so sweet."
I touched her cheek and brought her face up to mine. She breathed lightly across my neck, lowered her lips onto mine. Her tongue, wet and warm, slipped between my lips and I opened my mouth to take all of it she could shove in. My own tongue darted back into her mouth.
With a gasp, she tore her lips from my mouth and kissed me, licked my body, down across my chest, pausing over my nipples. Her tongue went in and out of my belly button. My hands wrapped her head. I knew where her mouth was going.
Spreading the flaps of my pants, she lifted my prick again. She kissed my belly, licked the hair in my crotch, and started up the side of my cock. It was at full stand, hard and long, and wanted her as much as she wanted it
I hoped on hope that she was right, that her husband was out for the night. I didn't want to start enjoying his wife, start plunging my cock into her, and have him walk in with a flashlight and shoot both of us like two dogs fucking in the night
The head of my cock throbbed when her mouth reached it. She took it right inside, her teeth just barely brushing the tender sides. Then her lips closed around it. She started to suck. Her left hand wrapped the shaft that she couldn't take in her mouth while her right hand rubbed my balls, pressed them, stroked them. One finger traced down my ass, along the crack, then back up to my balls.
I could hear her slurping on me, sucking me. I turned so my body faced her more, so she could reach that part of me that she wanted. She seemed to want me to come right now and not wait.
It was not the first time I'd been sucked off by an older woman. The very first time I came with the aid of anything but my own hand was when Mrs. Lewdon back home went down on me. But that time wasn't in a jail; that was at a church supper.
The sheriff's wife kept her lips tight on my cock. She moved her head back, letting most of my cock slip out of her mouth. Her tongue licked over and around the head, kept it hot, wet, soaking. Then she opened her mouth and rammed my cock far back into her throat, further than she had taken it before, and she closed her mouth hard on me. She didn't touch me with her teeth, but I felt the cavernous hole of her mouth, her throat, her tongue kept licking me, sucking at me, and her hands kept pumping at my prick and around my balls. My ass started humping up off the cot. I wrapped one leg up against her shoulder. I pushed her head tighter against my crotch. I didn't want to hold back. I wanted to fuck her in the mouth, fill her with come, and get her the hell out of there before her husband came by on an impromptu bed check.
At the church supper, I had been a good boy and offered to bring more chairs from Mrs. Lewdon's house across the street. I was fifteen and a virgin, though I had come in my pants a few times on dates with girls and I knew what they felt like. I had had my mouth on several sets of tits and my fingers in one cunt, but no girl had yet been willing to hold my hard cock. I had made up for that by a little dry-fucking in the back seat of my car, everybody in their clothes. Mrs. Lewdon was the first female willing to hold my cock in her hand and I was surprised, though pleased, when she did it I really hadn't expected to find anything except the chairs when I went across the street.
She said the chairs were in the basement and I followed her downstairs. I thought she just wanted to show me where they were. Instead, she backed me against the door of the storage shed and kissed me and while she did she pressed her crotch against mine. She said, "It's hard, isn't it." She was right, it was hard, but she was hesitant about everything, unsure probably of whether I would tell all my friends about her, or whether I'd even let her do anything to me. I let her know how I felt by pushing my own crotch back against her, and holding her ass with my hands while I kissed her.
She didn't waste any time after that. She unbuckled my belt and pulled my pants down right there while I stood with my back to the storage room door, and when my cock bounced out into the air, as technically virgin as a newborn babe, she touched it. Oh man, was that a sweet touch. I'd always liked Mrs. Lewdon anyway. She made fine cherry pies and she was the possessor of a nice pair of tits for a middle-aged woman. I wasn't sure what she was going to do, but I was delighted when she knelt in front of me and slipped my hard, still-virgin prick into her mouth and started sucking on it.
I was big for my age and my cock was long and hard and Mrs. Lewdon loved it. I watched her plunging down on it, sucking as she moved her mouth back, her lips lingering along the shaft. Then she plunged back on it and I saw most of it disappear into her mouth. She grabbed both cheeks of my ass and held me to her face. She brought one hand between my legs from behind and held my balls. I couldn't hold back anything in those days and was afraid I would come in her mouth. I said, "Mrs. Lewdon, Mrs. Lewdon, I'm going to shoot off, I can't help it." But she didn't let go. She sucked me further into her mouth and I just couldn't hold back and started coming and it all burst into her mouth in stiff spurts and her cheeks and throat started working as she swallowed it.
I liked that very much.
The sheriff's wife was just as good at it as Mrs. Lewdon had been.
Holding her head against me, I felt her lips soaking my pubic hair. I didn't think she could have taken all of me in her mouth, but she had done just that. She stayed down on me, too, because she felt my cock swelling, throbbing in its readiness, and she sucked hard like she wanted whatever was in me to come out.
My hips began moving involuntarily. Holding her face tight against my crotch, my cock thrust far back into her mouth, my hips pumping, I rode her face as the head of my cock felt like it had suddenly caught fire. I hadn't fucked anybody for over a month, and to a twenty-one year old kid that was like building up a pressure as strong as a volcano.
It shot out of me in long, drawn-out spurts. Riding her face was like riding an ocean wave for those few seconds I was shooting off in her throat We were lifted off the cot and out of the cell and onto the top car of a roller-coaster. My ass pushed my cock further into her as my spasms subsided, as my balls felt emptied.
She pulled her mouth back and with her hand tightly clasping my cock, she milked out whatever come was still in the shaft
Then she brought her mouth quickly up to mine and I tasted the faint flavor of my own come on her lips.
Suddenly, I wanted her out of there. I was still afraid her husband would wake up and come looking for her. Getting up from my cot I held my pants up with one hand while I walked to the cell door and motioned for her to get the hell out of there.
She didn't even try to be quiet any more. "You don't believe me, do you, that he won't wake up."
"I want to believe you, but I can't."
"Sure you can." She licked her lips, still tasting me on them. "He hasn't gotten out of bed at night for five year. He will get up at six in the morning, about five seconds after he wakes up. He sleeps like a dead man." She crossed the cell, leaned against me, and slid her hands along my hips. "Will you believe me?" She eased my pants lower, lower. I felt her naked tits against my chest.
What the hell, I thought. Lifting her face, I kissed her lips. "Yes, I believe you. But only because I know you know he would shoot you as well as me if he caught us."
We crossed back to the cot and I pulled the mattress onto the floor. The cot itself wasn't strong enough to hold both of us and what I wanted to do to Bea Anderson, smalltown sheriff's wife, was going to need room.
While I fixed the mattress, she slipped her shirt off her shoulders. Probably she had just gotten out of bed and pulled on her shirt and pants to come in to me.
I placed my palms on her nipples. They were hard and stood up from her fleshy tits. She pushed my pants down and when they fell around my ankles I stepped out of them. My cock was rapidly rising again. She stroked my balls.
I found the snaps to her pants and opened them one at a time, then worked my fingers into the waistband and pushed her pants down off her hips. Once they were free they fell of their own accord. I could see Bea's thick cunt hair in the moonlight.
We lay down together. I passed my hands along her sides, down to her hips and across her thighs into her snatch. Her legs spread like gates into a dark, warm, waiting garden. I had never kissed a cunt and didn't especially want to start with a sheriff's wife, so I just passed my lips across her cunt hair. Rich odors rose into my nostrils. I felt my cock standing stiff and stretched against its still tender head.
"You're too young," she said, "for me to let you get away. The sheriff might not get anybody like you for a long time."
I slid three fingers into her cunt. She was soaking with juice. Her clit was slippery and huge and the cavern of her vagina opened for my hand as if it wanted me to slide my wrist in, to dive in as far as my elbow.
She found my cock again, stroked it, circled it, pulled it. She twisted her body until she could get her mouth on it again and she went down on me, swallowing my cock like a stiff lollipop.
Then just as suddenly, she was off me and stretching flat on her back, her legs parting, and she pulled me by my cock up across her body. Usually I liked to do a little more of the directing, but since it was her husband's jail, and she was older than me, I let her do what she wanted.
I leaned over her with my hands on each side of her shoulders. Her heels raked along my legs and hips as she opened herself to me. Holding my cock in her hand, she brought it against the swollen lips of her cunt. She wiped the head up and down through her moistness, and when I pressed a little with my ass to let her know I was ready to get inside, she guided the head between her lips and at the same time pushed up with her ass to meet me coming down.
I slid inside her perfectly, all the way with the first thrust, the sides of her cunt gripping me as my shaft sank deep inside her, deeper and deeper.
She left my balls to bang against her ass and wrapped her arms around me, her hands pressing my face down to her mouth. She covered me with kisses, licked my lips.
She sucked my ears into her mouth, thrust her tongue into my ear as if it was a cunt. Her ass writhed back and forth on the mattress as if nobody had gotten a good stiff prick into her since she got out of high school.
Fortunately, she had sucked me almost dry before we started fucking, so I felt like I could go a nice long time. I stopped fucking and left my prick shoved far up her cunt, my pubic hair crushing hers, and she began wriggling her ass. Her head rolled back and I caught it in my hands, supporting myself on my elbows. I fucked her mouth with my tongue, in and out, in and out, while leaving my cock thrust as far as it would go up her vagina.
She came then. Her legs began shuddering, then quickly her loins and her ass and hips, and all at once she gasped hard, her mouth grabbed mine and sucked, and she made pitiful little moaning noises with her throat.
I pulled my cock out of her and thrust it back in quickly then, in and out, hard suddenly, fucking her fast with all the pressure I had in my ass. She was very good. Her cunt opened and closed, grasped me and sucked open as I pulled out and squeezed as I thrust in. My prick felt like it grew longer, thicker, heavier. Her legs pumped hard against my hips.
She kept coming, long hard waves passing through her body to mine.
Laying her head back on the mattress, I lay my body against her tits and felt her nipples erect against mine. My hands clutched at the cheeks of her ass and I spread them, pulled her up to me and held her tight. Her feet found the floor and she pushed up as well with her cunt, her thighs tightening, tensing, gripping my prick to keep it inside her, but her cunt was soaking with oil. I was a piston that kept driving in and out, in and out. She couldn't keep me inside no matter how hard she gripped.
My cock was on fire again and the only way to satisfy it was to keep plunging it back into the source of the heat, keep trying to force it further and further, spreading Bea's cheeks with my fingers and thrusting my cock far up her grasping, frothing, soaking cunt. Her head rolled from side to side. Her tongue came out of her mouth seeking mine. I gave it to her, forced it past her own tongue against her cheeks, pressed her tongue down and fucked with my own down into her throat
When I came it was like all the floodgates opened for me. The volcano spewed forth all that it had bottled up inside. My prick was ice cold and red hot. The tip had exploded inside her.
"Tim," she said. "Oh Tim Tim Tim. Oh God, that was good. That was hard. Oh God, Tim, you come hard."
I relaxed on her body. I kissed her nipples, then the warm sweat that lay between her tits. I let my spasms pass with my cock still in her. Her legs passed down my hips as she relaxed herself, our fuck finished, completed, our bodies drained.
Then she tapped me on the ass and gathered herself under me. I pulled out of her, my cock still long but no longer as hard as it was. It fell against my balls, flopped between my legs as I rose to my knees.
"Come on," she said. She scooted away from me and gathered her pants and pushed her long, flashing legs into them. "Come on," she whispered again. "We don't have much time."
I was still half out of it from our fucking. "What are you talking about?" Such an unexpected fuck can be especially nice in a smalltown jail cell, so my body was unusually relaxed.
She stood up quickly and pulled up her pants, buttoned them, and looked around for her shirt. The moon had passed the window but I could still see her tits bouncing as she leaned over to search the floor for her shirt. She found it, sighing with relief. She caught my pants with her foot and scooted them toward me.
"Get the mattress back up," she hissed. "Come on, move. He might come by any minute."
Oh no, Oh no, how could she have done that. I may even have said "Oh, no" like a comedian in the movies.
She said, "He comes by soon to check the cells, making his rounds at night It's his routine."
I know who "he" was. The very same man I did not want to see until breakfast. Especially not now.
"You lied," I hissed back at her. I tugged the mattress off the floor and laid it as quietly as I could back on the narrow cot. I lost my pants in the process and had to scuff around in my bare feet until I found them. I pulled them up.
She kissed me. "You were worth it," she said quickly. "You were worth it even if we get shot, you hear? We don't get very many nice looking boys in jail in a town like this. You were worth it."
"Get out of here, will you? Get, get, get."
"Was I worth it?" she asked.
I stopped a second to think. I might be the only guy she would ever get in jail. I might be the last piece of ass in her life except for her husband. I held her head and kissed her lips. "Yes, you were." I meant it, too. "You were damn well worth it Now get your tight little ass moving, will you?"
She locked the door behind her.
I lay back down on the cot. I was shaking. I was cold suddenly, without her, even though it was a pleasant and warm West Coast night. I pulled the old jailhouse wool blanket over my chest. In a while my body began to relax. I began to remember her waking me up. I remembered her mouth on me and how it felt when my cock was sinking into her cunt. The shaking stopped, my body warmed up, and I pushed the blanket down again. I began wishing she would come back. I found my cigarettes and lit one.
I was still smoking it when the sheriff came by with his flashlight
"Can't sleep, huh?" he asked. "How are you doing?" I asked.
"Making the rounds. Part of my job. Little nervous about getting out tomorrow?" "Just a little restless," I said.
"Well, don't worry. The world's still out here, just like it was when you went in. You'll fit right back in society, now that you've been rehabilitated." He flashed the light around my cell to see if I had been trying to carve my way through the cement walls with a spoon. Habits are hard for sheriffs to break, I suppose.
"Well," he said, "you be sure to put that cigarette out before you go to sleep. Don't set yourself on fire your last night in jail." He moved down the hallway. "Good night, son, see you in the morning."
"Good night."
Strange, I thought, how we had become almost like good friends, yet he had me locked in a cell. But I thought I had gotten more than even because of what I had just done to his wife. Still, I hoped it would make her happier with him, because I did like him. I hoped he would have an easier time of it because I had been there.