Chapter 9

Lageule sat upright again, pulling his eyes with reluctance away from that luscious sight.

"Uh ... uh-" That was all he could say. It was more like some animal gasp than human speech.

Smiling, Gwen got up from her chair, shoving the footstool aside. She came over to him, and then she put out her hand and touched him.

Lageule almost shot his wad right then and there ... He'd never been touched in such a sensuous way by a real Hippie before ... usually that was the last thing they wanted to do. His mind became confused, as sensation mingled with sensation, as he realized simultaneously that she was not unwashed, that she smelled very nice, in fact: that she was slipping the jacket of his suit off his shoulders; that her bare leg was rubbing against his thigh; that his cock was ready to explode; that now she was undoing the buttons of his shirt....

That now she was unzipping his fly, and now sliding his trousers off his legs, while he raised his hips to help her and then her hands went back to peel off his boxer shorts until he was entirely naked....

That now, her hands had come out and were stroking his enormous ram of a dick! Blinding flashes shot across the inside of his eyes, rockets were detonated in his head, it was marvelous, incredible, the way she deftly pulled and pummeled at his meat! She knew exactly what to do, she knew exactly what pleased him! His girl-friend, Jeannine would never even touch his 'thing,' let alone do all the things this Hippie was now doing!

Docilely, skillfully, tenderly, Gwen's hands went up and down the pulsing length of his cock, pausing a moment to swirl a finger in delicate circles around the sensitive tip then sliding on down to the stem, pulling Lageule's tingling, nerve-twitching skin with them. Then one hand fell below to fondle the sacs that hung between his legs; and Lageule wiggled and squirmed in utmost ecstasy. The blonde chick first took one ball and then the other in her deft fingers, cradling, caressing, jiggling, squeezing, until waves of fervor rolled all through the policeman's body. It was incroyahle!

But that was not all. Slowly, before his very eyes, the naked Hippie, her skin gleaming creamy white, went to her knees in front of him. Hot shivers ran down Lageule's spine-what would she do next? Would she suck on him!

She certainly would, it seemed. Her blonde hair swung down and tickled the insides of his thighs, as she bent her head forward to take the whole straining length of his burning penis in her mouth.

'"Aaahh!" Lageule squirmed in his seat and thrust himself from the hips further into the moist cave of her mouth while her lips curled around his flaming cock and gripped it tightly. Then she began to stroke, sucking him deep into her mouth, then slowly withdrawing a little, pulling his tingling skin with her ... up and down she moved, up to the glowing head of his dick, and then down, hard, to the very depths of his desire.

Lageule was screaming obscenities in French now, he was so amazed and overwrought. That such a thing could happen to him! In blind ecstasies of urgent desire, his hands shot out and fondled her lush tits, his fingers coyly playing with the stiff, erect nipples ... and the feel of her creamy flesh sent flashes of mind-boggling pleasure crashing all through him.

He couldn't last much longer, Gwen was thinking to herself, she'd have to let him come once and then get him up again. Accordingly, she went to work on his prick with renewed vigor, her tongue probing, prodding, diddling, lapping, while her lips held his cock tightly.

One hand was still playfully jiggling his balls, and suddenly the sensations from that urgent center of pleasure became unbearable for Lageule; he couldn't hold out much longer, he was coming, coming, COMING ... ! In shudders and twitches of milky ecstasy.

His cock tightened, jerked, spurted, spurted again, in spuming geyser sprays ... and Gwen accepted his load willingly, swallowing down every succulent drop of hot come.

Lageule came out of his orgy of frenetic joy, and stared at her. Where was his stuff? Only one stray drop trickled down her chin-surely there d been more? Where was it ... had she really ... ?

She smiled mischievously at him, smacking her lips with exaggerated enjoyment ... she had! She had swallowed it! Every burning drop! Lageule stared at her in awe and appreciation.

He felt at ease now, and he leaned back in comfort and contentment. Hippies weren't so bad after all-they certainly knew how to please you!

"Well," said Gwen, after a moment, "I guess it'll be my turn next, eh?"

He looked at her and she was still smiling, her dimple wrinkling mischievously. Her words hit him, and fiery visions penetrated his brain ... had she meant-had she meant she wanted him to eat her?

The thought entranced him, and made him a little nervous. He'd hate to show up worse than a Hippie in this line of duty ... and that was something he'd never done before ... he lay back and closed his eyes, ostensibly relaxing, but secretly planning his moved.

"But no hurry-don't look so alarmed!" said Gwen with a friendly giggle. Was his face so transparent, then?

"Tell me, Mr., Lageule-" she was speaking again, "First, tell me your name," she interrupted herself.

"Henri."

"Oh, well, Henri, how did you come to be a cop? Do you like it? Is it all that interesting?"

"Yeah."

"How, I mean, what's interesting about it? Do you feel like you help people and stuff?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's it."

"What kinds of things do you do? I mean, do you get a lot of murders and things like that?"

"Some." He deliberated a moment. He'd only seen two murders in his three years on the force-that was Homicide's department. "Not many," he amended.

"Is it mostly just complaints about noise and things like that?" She seemed very interested in his job, seemed to think it could be really exciting. She obviously watched too much television.

"Yeah. That's what it is, mostly. And we cruise around a lot."

"Oh." She was dimpling again.

"It's just a job," Henry explained.

"So I see," she said coyly.

There was a pause. Gwen got up and crossed to the stereo. Her body glistened sweet and creamy in the glow of of the lamp.

"Do'ya mind a record?" she asked politely over her shapely shoulder.

"No, not at all. I like rock music." He was glad he'd had the opportunity to point that out.

"Well, good, that's great. What'ya wanna hear?"

"Oh, I dunno ... Beatles Abbey Road? If you have it.

She put on the record and they sat for a while in companionable silence. The music, which gave them something to listen to besides each other's breathing, made him feel more at ease and relaxed. Suddenly, he felt truly at home.

"Tell me," said Henri, and his tone was interested, "how did you come to be a Hippie?"

She looked at him and smiled, her sweet dimple showing. She waved her arms in a graceful, vague gesture.

"Oh, I dunno ... " she said. "I mean, I'm not really a Hippie, you know. I just live here, and like certain things-music and stuff-and have friends with long hair. But I'm not really a Hippie."

"Oh." That was strange-he could have sworn she was.

"It's just that I've tried living 'straight,' as you call it-" she was continuing, "and it bored me."

"Oh?" He was interested now. He himself was often bored.

"Yeah. I mean, you go to work, you come home, you watch television, you go to bed, you go to work, you go out on a Saturday night and fuck with no imagination ... it's really boring."

"Yeah, I guess it can be, sometimes." He was thinking of Jeannine, and her fast and routine screws.

"Also, I sort of got into habits at college-so that when I got out, it was really hard to settle down at that sort of thing."

"Habits? What sort of habits?" This was definitely getting interesting now. Suddenly Lageule wanted to know this girl's whole history-he sensed that she must have done incredibly exciting things in her eighteen years of life.

"Do you really want to hear?" she asked. "I mean, it's a long story, you know."

"The longer the better," he said with alacrity, "I really do want to hear ... everything!"