Chapter 3
At the exact moment the sheriff's wife was ramming her huge electrified cock deep inside a shocked and thrilled young housewife, the town librarian glanced at her watch, noted it was exactly twelve noon, time for her lunch, and headed from the front desk of the main library back toward her office.
In spite of the fact that Mrs. Jenny Smith wore shapeless dresses, thick glasses and no makeup, what she had would be impossible to hide in a burlap sack.
Jenny was a tall brunette who wore her rich, shimmering hair coiled in a severe bun behind her head. Her typical expression was serious but faintly questioning, as if someone was always ready to ask her where a particular book could be located. At twenty-eight she was ripely curved, with white glowing skin, superbly rounded tits, a large but luscious ass and long tapered legs.
Her outfit—disguise would be more accurate—was so effective though, a dull baggy dress, flat-heeled shoes, and thick glasses, that it took a practiced eye to see the treasure that really lay beneath the disguise.
Her husband, the high school principal, was one of those fortunate men who, three years earlier, had seen beneath Jenny's strange disguise, and married her.
But like a great many women, Jenny was secretly dissatisfied with her marriage. She loved her husband, a studious, mild-mannered man, because they had long serious discussions about everything, the bizarre changes in the world's weather patterns, astrology, the fate of the human race, the moral breakdown of the younger generation, all sorts of fascinating and complex issues.
But although the statuesque brunette had a bright, probing mind and a deep love of all things intellectual, she also had the luscious body of a very healthy and passionate young woman.
And her husband just couldn't keep it humming and glowing with the hot, urgent satisfaction it demanded.
Jenny also believed in the fidelity of marriage vows. Coupled with the fact that she was basically a shy and peaceful person, she would never have dreamed of approaching any man for what her passionately ripe body craved.
And so, until just last week, she'd lived with her deep sexual frustration, like so many other trapped women.
Then he came along.
If anyone was the opposite of her serious-minded, gentle-mannered husband, it was he. He was a brute, a throwback to the primeval cry of savages living in caves. He was rough, brutal, selfish, domineering, everything the sensitive brunette had ever detested.
He was also the most thrilling fuck of her life, and gave her precisely what she needed to fulfill her hotly passionate nature. The moment he talked to her, she knew he sensed her sex-frustration at once, saw and felt it in her lustrous brown eyes and faintly trembling hands. The lewd bastard had actually raped her with his eyes then, mentally ravaging her soft mouth and proud tits and white thighs and even her lush ass. She knew that and it turned her face red with shame and embarrassment.
In her private office, Jenny pulled down the window-blinds and lit a cigarette with shaking fingers, glancing urgently at her watch again.
He was five minutes late, goddamn him!
She puffed nervously on the cigarette, pressing her moist thighs together, feeling a wild ripple of excitement in her tight, fiery cunt. How could you detest someone so much, hate someone and still turn to jelly in his presence and become a clawing, whimpering sex-animal?
She knew the answer to that one only too well.
He gave her what she needed. His sex—it couldn't be called love-making by any stretch of the imagination—his physical sex left her weak and humble and obedient, and always made her feel totally helpless, like a slave.
The things he did to her body were shocking. If her meek husband knew, he'd keel over in a dead faint. And that was precisely why she needed his prick so much. When her husband made love to her, he was sweet and tender and considerate... and boring as hell.
Jenny had only had two men in her life, remaining, incredibly, a virgin until she'd married the school principal. Then this new man came into her life last week, a bull on a rampage, practically raping her the first time right here in her private office, knowing with his cold, steely-gray eyes that she loved every sordid moment of it.
He'd done things to her mouth and tits and ass that women only dreamed about in the most secret recesses of their minds, not daring to beg their husbands for such brutal and thrilling treatment.
Jenny glanced at her watch again and then abruptly pulled out the pin coiling her hair. It swept down in long, billowing tresses, thick and gleaming over her shoulders. She stubbed out her cigarette with shaking fingers.
"Come on, you bastard!" she hissed softly, a sheen of sweat beginning to film over her curved white flesh. Maybe he wasn't going to show up! That thought sparked such a violent frustration in Jenny, her fingers almost darted down to her thighs to begin finger-fucking herself.
That's what he did to her, the crude gorilla.
There was a sharp knock on her door and her heart leaped wildly. Quickly, she opened it and he stepped inside and she closed and locked it in an urgent movement.
"You're late," she said in a quivering voice, He grinned, his lips thin and military. "Get shook up, Jenny?" He reached out and deliberately pinched a nipple through her dress and she moaned softly. "I dreamed about your hot gorgeous ass all the way over here, bright eyes. My cock feels like ten inches of pig iron."
"God, you have a filty mouth," she whispered, loving the vulgar sound of the words. She was already unzipping her dress, her tits panting urgently against the confining bra.
The sheriff watched her through narrowed eyes for a few seconds, his prick straining urgently at his tight pants. This piece of dainty ass was one he particularly enjoyed, because she was such a snotty, phoney bitch on the outside and just a hot little tramp on the inside, like all the others.
Over the years, Ed had cultivated a sharp cynicism toward all women, the result of being a cop for so long. What was the difference between a hooker on the street and an arrogant bitch like the hot-assed brunette now stripping frantically in front of him? One sold it for money, the other for cheap kicks, that's all. It was still barter all the way. This one thought it was, oh so absolutely thrilling and shocking to be fucked by a hard-assed cop like himself. He was sharply aware that she detested him, looked down on him as if he were a goddamn slob or a peasant.
But she couldn't resist worshipping his big prick, either. With all her fancy words and elegant manners and la-de-dah horseshit, when you stripped it all away, she was just another frantic piece of cunt who had to have it hard and fast three times a week, at least. That's all.
She could fool her sheep-like asshole husband, and the rest of these innocent suckers in a hick town like this, but the town librarian wasn't about to bullshit the county sheriff. He'd seen too many women like her over the years, and pussy was pussy, whether it was wrapped in cheap, tawdry skirts or phoney intellectual ribbon like this ripe-tittied knockout.
"Aren't you going to undress?" she whispered hoarsely, naked now, trembling with impatience. Her eyes burned with naked lust as they devoured his tall, rugged frame, lingering on the enormous bulge of his tight pants. Just like the conceited gorilla to claim ten inches! Seven was more accurate, but Jenny wasn't about to argue technicalities in her current state. Her pussy was throbbing fiercely, her thighs and curly cunt-hairs soaked with her juices, her swollen, creamy tits on fire with excitement.
For another minute, though, the sheriff just watched her with his flat, cold eyes. Jesus, what a knockout! Big all over, huge tits and ass and thighs, but all woman, and hot, insatiable pussy. Normally Ed was good for two quick shots in succession, but drinking in her hot white flesh he decided to go for three.
But in which order? Mouth, pussy, asshole? Tits, ass and then pussy? Which sequence of raw, savage sex would torment her the most? After all, that's what the fancy bitch really wanted, to be cruelly teased before she got her rocks off.
The sheriff's fingers went to his shirt and he began unbuttoning it, and Jenny heaved a deep sigh of relief, caressing her taut nipples and going over to the sofa across from her desk. She lay back on it with one leg resting on the upper rim of the couch, her plump thighs parted to show her obscenely sucking pink pussy, her ass already un- dulating feverishly.
She felt deliciously obscene like this, and the feeling of being no more than a common tramp made her tremble with eagerness. Her husband would never be able to understand this, but a woman had so many strange, secret urges.
When the sheriff took off his shorts and his massive red prick quivered forth, a creamy drop of jism oozing out of the knob, a whimper of hunger escaped Jenny's lips, and at the same time her asshole tingled sharply.
She'd never dreamed the first time he'd raped her there with his hard, throbbing prick that such awful burning pain existed. Or such wild, secret ecstasy. How could she explain that to her gentle husband? If she ever even hinted to him she wanted to be fucked in the ass, when he recovered from the polite shock, he'd recommend seeing a psychiatrist!
Besides, to be perfectly honest, he didn't have the equipment for that kind of agonizing pleasure.
Now Ed was coming over to her, his huge hairy balls dangling beneath his pounding cock. Standing beside the sofa, he leaned down and gently cupped her head in his hand.
For a moment, Jenny thought he was actually going to kiss her, one of those tender gestures her husband loved. Her burning eyes grew soft.
And then in a savage movement the sheriff whipped her head up to his crimson rod.
"Suck it!" he barked, gripping her head in both hands now in a fierce grip. "Eat it, lady, hot and hungry. Go!"
Moaning with humiliation and feverish excitement, Jenny gagged as he rammed five inches of thick meat into her wet mouth. Then her shaking fingers came up to grasp the trunk of his rod and she began sucking on the brick-hard meat, hefting his balls in one hand while she jerked on his cock with the other, her lips sliding lustfully back and forth.
Gazing down at the whimpering brunette, the sheriff had to grit his teeth when she suddenly clutched only his knob in her boiling lips and flicked her tongue across the tip like a mad little whip. This one was full of surprises, he'd discovered the first time he'd fucked her.
For one thing, she gave an incredible blowjob. He didn't know where the hell she'd learned dazzling tricks like this—right now she was ripping her teeth gently across the surface of his meat to make him gasp—and you'd never guess it from the way she talked, but she could suck like a hundred-dollar whore.
As if to confirm his opinion, Jenny quickly slipped his pulsating rod out of her mouth, lifted it in her tight fist and began lashing her wet tongue around his balls to send hot tremors of delight through his loins.
"Born cocksucker," Ed groaned, his lean body braced under the sharp thrills. "You're a natural-born cocksucker, lady! Shit, that's wild, mmmf! Suck it harder, dammit! Agh!"
The obscene praise sent thrills of pride through her blood. Her husband whispered "Darling" to her when she went down on him and this savage called her a cocksucker! She loved the words, and strove harder to please him, wriggling her head up and down in a frenzy as she sucked hotly on his long rod, then weaving her mouth from side to side, hearing him grunt with soaring excitement. Lord, she loved to suck cock! Even though she had practically no experience except for her husband and this brute, she knew she was very good at it.
She'd learned it from books.
Long before she'd ever gotten married, Jenny was secretly reading every book she could find on sex, including quite a few you couldn't get in libraries, but could order through the mail in a plain brown wrapper. She knew the erogenous zones of the human body as well as the back of her own hand, and she knew more about pleasing a man than any hooker.
How many women knew that sucking on a man's nipples while he screwed you gave him a hot added thrill? Or that if you were on top of him in reverse, the pressure of a tight pussy on his rod was fantastically intense, and that you could tickle the soles of his feet—but cautiously—which made him get his rocks off almost at once?
Or that you could get him up again almost instantly by applying pressure to certain parts of his balls, without even touching his cock, and at the same time if you pressed on a nerve at the base of his spine, he could get the biggest hard-on of his life no matter how tired he was?
That was an Oriental secret.
Or the knotted scarf trick. Jenny already had a knotted silk scarf ready, between the cushions of the sofa. When it came time to use it she could get a dual orgasm, her pussy and asshole exploding with ecstasy at the same breathtaking moment.
Or that you could drive a man as well as a woman crazy by running your wet tongue along the crack of his ass while you rotated your hot palm against only the head of his dick?
Or that you could keep a man from coming almost indefinitely by securely gripping the very base of his prick tightly between your thumb and forefinger, partly cutting off the circulation and desensitizing his rod?
There were dozens of tricks like these that Jenny knew, tricks she had yet to use on any man... or woman. One of these days, the lush librarian just had to make it with another woman to satisfy the burning curiosity she felt. Already, even as she was sucking Ed's cock with furious lunges of her hot mouth, craving his thick flood of jism spurting in her throat, Jenny was wondering what it would be like to go down on a woman, or even a young girl, a thought that secretly excited her tremendously, that filled her with intense eagerness as she wondered what a juicy tender slit tasted like when it was coming...
"Shit, that's—mmmmf!—fantastic, you bitch," Ed gasped, fucking her boiling mouth in rapid strokes now, his prick swelling and hardening in her lips. She squeezed his balls and jerked the base of his rod feverishly in her hot fist, deep moans of lust coming from her throat. His pungent, salty come was sharply different from her husband's. Ed's thick animal cream burned and stung, while her husband's was like him, mild and sort of feeble and watery.
As she felt the knot of his jism beginning to boil up in his loins like a volcanic eruption, a wild fantasy of going down on three or four healthy young boys in a row, like an assembly line of lust, flashed in Jenny's tormented mind. The clean, healthy boys who came into her library every day, huge young pricks straining at their levi's, made the brunette's mouth tingle and water.
And the girls, oh Lord, the girls were so beautiful! Tanned by the California sun, they had sweet young breasts, silky thighs, and plump, adorable little asses bouncing seductively when they walked. God, how she'd love to lick every one of them until they were crying with passion!
Then the sheriff was beginning to spurt in her mouth, and a muffled scream of excitement sound- ed in Jenny's throat as she sucked ferociously to get his cream stinging in her throat, yearning for every molten drop, her pussy tingling madly, her throat gulping in a frenzy of greed.
In that deliciously obscene moment, Jenny wanted his jism everywhere on her trembling white flesh, on her heaving ripe tits and soft belly, on her naked ass and long legs.
She knew why she was suffering from these tormenting fantasies too. She knew how dangerous they were becoming.
His cock went semi-limp in her mouth—the sheriff's prick never went completely down, she'd noticed; it was semi-stiff all the time—and Jenny whimpered and sucked eagerly for every last salty drop, rolling her tongue around her mouth to relish the taste.
"Christ, what a blowjob," Ed sighed, stepping back and shaking his head. He hated to admit it, but she had a hotter, wilder mouth than his own wife, Val, which was saying something. The reason was obvious: Val had years of experience, true, and a sex-drive that was inexhaustible, but this hot-lipped, wild-pussied brunette was just waking up where her sex-life was concerned, and she was so goddamn smart she was trying everything in her desire to learn.
"Break time," he said casually, going over to her desk and taking one of her cigarettes, lighting it and watching her tremble and lick her sultry lips through the haze of smoke.
She was about to ask him for one too, but decided against it. Instead she got her own, shuddering as his hand brutally cupped her throbbing cunt. He had the manners of a pig, damn him!
And the cock of a bull.
He sat on the edge of her desk with his bare muscled ass right on her papers while Jenny went back to the sofa to smoke her cigarette. She hated him but couldn't resist what she felt like whenever he touched her with his strong fingers: A groveling sex-slave, with no will of her own. Look at the pig, sitting there like a Gestapo officer! Even naked, he seemed to be wearing boots!
"Where'd you learn all that wild stuff?" Ed asked her, grinning at her. "Blowjobs like that don't grow on trees."
"I practiced on my husband," she lied.
He laughed, throwing his head back. "That wimp? Who are you kidding, honey?"
Her face reddened and she bit her lip, but didn't say anything. You couldn't even lie to him. He was a cop and he'd heard it all.
"Books," she said humbly, avoiding his hard eyes.
"Books?" he echoed wonderingly. Jesus, she had everything—brains, a knockout set of tits, a luscious ass, a frantic pussy a mad mouth. She was a juicy-looking broad when she didn't wear that ugly stuff and her thick lenses.
"Why do you dress like a goddamn garbage dump?" he asked abruptly. "A good-looking piece like you wearing those potato sacks, it's fucking ridiculous. Why do you do that?"
"You wouldn't understand," she retorted. How could she explain to this animal that people like her had to have two lives, a secret life and an open one, an outer dull normal life and a feverishly exciting inner one? That's what made it so thrilling and exciting, to be the opposite of what you seemed to be to other people.
On the surface she was the prim town librarian, dull, bookish, without passion or vitality. On the inside she was a sex-obsessed siren, loving to give hotly inspired blowjobs, to be brutalized in her ripe naked ass and fiery pussy, to be humbled and commanded and fucked without mercy.
She was like a book herself. The cover told you nothing really, but when you got into it, then you knew.
But the wild fantasies in her mind were getting dangerous. If she kept it up, one of these days she was going to start propositioning some healthy young boys who came to the library. And then the girls, definitely the darling, blossoming cute girls. You couldn't keep madly arousing pictures on the screen of your mind every day and night without them coming true in real life.
The sheriff had proved that, because the moment she'd met him when he came to the library last week in response to a county legal matter, she'd immediately fantasized him savagely fucking her, and fifteen minutes later the picture came true.
Ed put out his cigarette, still watching her luscious curves, his prick almost fully rigid again. Too bad she wasn't Val's type, because they'd be really hot and wild in action together. But his wife preferred opposites, loved blondes with plump tits and asses like the one she was undoubtedly making it with now, his deputy's young wife. Val liked younger women, the kind that could be thoroughly corrupted and sucked off until they fainted, and screwed until they lost their minds.
He'd been meaning to speak to Val again about her crazy uncontrollable action with girls. One of these days he'd have to lock her up and put her in a strait-jacket if she didn't give up some of those crazy tease games he'd warned her about.
She would tie them down to the bed on their bellies, teasing them and working them up until they were screaming for it and then raping their tender hot asses with her gigantic dildo. She'd promised after that trouble in San Francisco she'd never pull that one again, but with Val you couldn't ever be sure. She had an insane streak when it came to sex.
That's why he'd been keeping her at arm's length from their daughter, Vicky.
The thought of his lovely daughter made his already rock-hard rod leap and quiver above his balls, and Ed walked over to the sofa, where the librarian watched him with huge burning eyes.
"Give it to me straight this time," she panted. "Please!"
"Meaning in your pussy, for a change?" he grinned. Even naked, he was the tough, cynical cop. "Okay, lady. Over the arm of the couch you go."
"No." She shook her head, startled at her own firmness. "I want to get on top this time."
She held up her knotted red silk scarf. "I want to use this, that's why! I don't want to get on top just to steal away your masculinity, you know."
His lip curled. "It'd take six like you to do that, you fancy bitch. What're you gonna do with that scarf?"
She scrambled up off the sofa, her creamy tits bouncing. "I'll show you if you let me get on top."
She had his curiosity hooked now. As a vice cop in San Francisco, Ed had seen just about everything but this was a new one on him. What the hell? he shrugged. Why not give the big-tittied librarian a break? Besides, he was a little tired, so why not let her do all the work?
He lay on his back on the sofa, knees drawn up slightly, his immense hard-on quivering like a crimson flagpole. Jenny straddled his hips, sitting upright. She reached behind her with the tightly knotted scarf and shoved it far up her asshole, with a few inches of the tail sticking out. It felt crammed and taut up her ass, but when it was ripped out— wow!
"So that's the trick," Ed said with disgust. "Hell, if you wanted it up your juicy ass, why didn't you say so?"
"I want it in both places at once, silly," she said. "Even a big prick like you can't do that!"
For once, the sheriff had to agree. The naked, hotly eager librarian held his rod upright with one hand while she teased her dripping cunt-lips for a minute, moaning and hissing with pleasure. Meanwhile, Ed played with her creamy tits hefting their velvety ripeness in his fingers, admiring their classic firmness. He'd seen enough tits in his time to know an immortal pair when he saw one, and the first time he'd fucked her in her fabulous breasts she'd come all over herself with lewd joy.
Now Jenny slid down on his massive cock with a deep moan, his hard, fiery cock engorged to the hilt. For a minute she simply squirmed on his rod, wriggling gently in circles so that the meat thrilled every inch of her pussy. Not only did the sheriff have a decent-sized cock, unlike her studious husband, but it was as hard, as he so quaintly put it, as pig iron. This made a considerable difference to Jenny, whose husband frequently went semi-soft in her aching pussy.
Beginning to pump her squeezing slit dreamily up and down on his erection, soft cries of excitement coming from her lips, her fingers behind her tickling Ed's huge balls, Jenny let one part of her mind drift off into reverie.
This was the beautiful part about this position, because she was in complete control of the tempo, and she loved this kind of slow, leisurely fucking, feeling her inflamed pussy tingle and spasm each time she slid down to ram herself.
"Love to fuck," she moaned softly, her sweating tits thrusting against his fingers while her hips lunged in casual movements. "Oh God, it's, mmmmmm, so big and hot, yesssss!"
"That's a pretty hot cunt you've got there yourself, lady," Ed groaned, waves of intense pleasure rippling through his cock as her velvety wet cunt thrashed and wriggled on his hard-on like a juicy silken fist. She was amazingly tight and fiery for her age, like a cherry. Her husband probably screwed her only once or twice a week, he thought with contempt.
Just to show her he wasn't a total ignoramus when it came to the fancier points of screwing, the sheriff slid one hand down over her perspiring belly and his thumb found her tiny swollen clit. He began stroking it while she fucked him to a faster rhythm, bringing muffled cries of ecstasy from her lips.
"Ahhhhhh, you bastard, you screw so beautifully!" she hissed, tears of pleasure brimming her eyes. She was working her madly sucking pussy to a wilder tempo now, on the brink of her first fierce climax, battering her slit relentlessly with his thick long rod.
She was far too excited to bother to explain to him—not that he'd give a damn anyway—that he was exactly like his prick: hard, tough, thick-skinned, insensitive, big, brutal, exciting, ramming and taking whatever he wanted with deadly self-assurance. In truth, the sheriff was a prick, and what Jenny needed so desperately in her sex-life right now was a massive prick like his.
Come to think of it, her husband was like his cock, too: cautious, mellow, timid, frequently going soft, needing a lot of stroking and reassurance. He was what they called "poetic," and while a woman of Jenny's sensitivity needed a certain amount of poetry in her life, she also needed a good healthy fuck every so often.
But that was turning out to be just about every night, if she could manage it.
She screamed softly now and whipped her feverish pussy in a rising frenzy on his prick, rearing back her head and shuddering from head to toe with her first blazing orgasm, her sweating tits bouncing madly in Ed's fingers.
Watching her, he damn near lost control and got his rocks off. Jesus, what a change she was from the dumpy librarian who wore goggles and looked like she'd never been laid in her life! This was a hot-blooded woman in her prime, blossoming late in life but beautiful in her glory of fucking, her juicy cunt churning and writhing on his cock like a maddened animal in heat.
The sheriff had had a few like her before in his career, almost all of them cop-groupies from the society-set in San Francisco. They loved to swing with anything that wore a uniform and a gun. Some of them loved to be handcuffed while they were ravished in their mouths or asses, and a few of them had begged Ed to whip their naked asses with his Sam Browne belt.
Val had a theory that most of these were spoiled bitches who just wanted to be punished for being nasty, and whose husbands didn't have the balls to do it to them. She was probably right, although he didn't subscribe to that psychiatric horseshit as a rule. But his wife was sharp, very sharp, when it came to human behavior. After all, she'd learned On the streets of life, and there was no better teacher.
Funny how he was such a mean sonofabitch with women except when it came to his own wife and daughter. Vicky was as beautiful as her mother had been at her age, but without that suspicious hardness Val had. She was a sweet, innocent girl, largely protected from the harsh realities of life.
And that was going to be a damn shame when he took her cherry.
The sheriff firmly believed that those assholes out there, the public, didn't understand a nice girl like her, and they'd forget her an hour after they fucked her. No daughter of his was going to be screwed over by some dumb football player, or have her heart broken by some selfish, clumsy brute.
No, she was going to lose it the right way... to himself.
Morally, the sheriff didn't understand what all the noise was about. He'd conceived her, he'd raised her, clothed her, fed her, taught her about life, cared for her soothed her and loved her, so why shouldn't he teach her about sex?
Who the hell was better qualified than he was?
If she had to lose it, which she did sooner or later, then it may as well be to a real man instead of some bird-brained ox of a quarterback or some awkward jerkoff in the back seat of a car.
The wailing librarian was coming again all over him, pumping her hot pussy in a delirium of lust on his rigid cock, her nails clawing his bare flanks to vent her excitement.
Christ, he had to give the brunette credit. When she did let it all out, she was a real fucking animal, whooping and humping and hopping like a sex-lunatic on a binge. Her tits were pouring down sweat, almost impossible to keep hold of as he squeezed and hefted the massive mounds, her fiery cunt spasming in lustful convulsions on his rod.
The sheriff could have come right then, if he'd let himself. The big-breasted librarian was a hell of a piece, fabulously sexy naked and with her long glistening hair down. But it was a matter of pride with Ed. Any goddamn savage could get his rocks off in two minutes. A woman appreciated a stud like himself, who could hold back his load almost indefinitely while she wallowed in a series of wild orgasms.
It was true that his cock was thick-skinned, abnormally so, like himself. And although he didn't feel her hot, luscious cunt with all the intensity other men did, this drawback didn't bother him. Even so, whenever he was tempted to come too quickly, the sheriff deliberately turned his mind back to the past, to scores of other women he'd screwed, some beautiful and sensuous, some downright dogs.
Essentially the sheriff was an adventurous soul, reluctant to pass up any action for fear he'd miss out on something. If he wanted anything to be written on his tombstone, it was this: "He got his share—and then some."
When he was a vice-cop in San Francisco years ago, Ed had sampled just about everything at one time or another. The opportunities were endless, and not just with hookers either. What there was about a cop that turned certain women on, Ed didn't know, but every police force in every city in the country had its feverish groupies and San Francisco was no exception.
But seeing the seamy, sordid side of life, and especially that side of women, for so many years had left the sheriff with a secret contempt for just about everyone. Take this groaning, sobbing, thrashing brunette fucking him like her life depended on it right now, screaming and pumping her wild pussy in a frenzy, coming in great hot gushes of ecstasy. Did she really think she could put him on with her fancy vocabulary and la-de-dah airs? She was a cunt beneath that thin frosting, just like every other one in the world, all hotly throbbing, madly eager pussy, and easy, oh so fucking easy to get.
All women were, as far as the tough, brutal sheriff was concerned. It all depended on your attitude toward them.
His life had shown him there wasn't a woman anywhere in the world who couldn't be screwed within two hours. They put on all these bullshit games, but if you saw beneath the coy "I'm-veddy-unattainable" act, if you knew what they really wanted and let them know at once that you weren't willing to play any horseshit high-school games, then they almost always fell apart on the spot.
The sheriff had never heard a woman say no, because he'd never once in his life asked for it. He'd size up the situation, gauge his chances, and simply take what he wanted. A hand on a tit or an ass-cheek was a hundred times more forceful and effective than any dumb questions.
He'd been turned down occasionally over the years, but they still never had a chance to say no. They'd take his hand and fling it away, and from the way they did it, watching their eyes when they did this, the sheriff could always tell whether they really meant it or not. About half the time they didn't and that's when he moved in fast.
The trouble with most men, the way Ed saw it, was that they talked too much when they wanted a piece of ass. When you babbled, it gave them a chance to do what they loved to do most, argue and play silly fucking word-games. If you acted like a man, simply grabbing a piece of tit or ass or thigh, then they understood the message.
The brunette was gasping and shuddering now, her creamy tits quivering madly as she slid her juicy slit in a fever of lust up and down on his stiff rod. This one had understood the message in about five seconds, and just as he'd anticipated, she turned into a bowl of hot jello. Seeing her wimp of a husband, the sheriff could understand why. He was one of those bookworms who really believed all the profound horseshit they taught innocent kids about life.
As far as the hard, cynical, and constantly horny sheriff was concerned, the splendor of life was in the living, in the screwing and eating and drinking and in the raw elements of day-to-day struggle, and not in the printed baloney of fancy philosophy.
He often wondered how many of those profound philosophers got laid anyway?
She was doing something to his balls now, squeezing them gently in a certain way and suddenly Ed realized that he was starting to shoot, that the knot of jism in his loins was being sucked out of him against his will, and he groaned as her fiercely sucking cunt began draining his cream out of his bursting cock in wild spasms.
" Jeeeezus, that's juicy, lady! Unnngg, your cunt is wiiiiiild, aaaah!"
Screaming softly and swinging her naked, perspiring ass in frantic motions, Jenny reached behind her and the moment his cream started gushing into her pulsing pussy in thick, hot torrents, she got a firm grip on the tail-end of the scarf rammed up her ass.
And she jerked it out in a sudden violent snatch.
And almost fainted with pure delight.
The pressure of the tightly wadded silk ripping through her tender asshole at the same time her gushing pussy was going into furious spasms of ecstasy was like having the skin torn from her body, but without pain. Every nerve of her ripe flesh tingled insanely for a few blissful moments, and Jenny's lips moved in a soundless scream of frenzied passion.
Then, as Ed's cock went slowly limp, her wild shudders began subsiding and she fell forward on him, pressing her swollen tits against his chest and sobbing as she continued rocking back and forth on his deflated rod, her cunt squeezing the final drops of his cream.
"What the hell did you do to make me come like that?" Ed said harshly.
"Just a trick," she sighed.
"Well, I don't like tricks like that," he said, slapping her on her naked ass viciously to make her leap and cry. "Don't pull that weird shit on me again, hear?"
"I won't," the librarian said quickly, her ass stinging with pain from his harsh hand. Brutal lout!
But the pain felt good, too, in a strange, eerie way.
She was crouching down between his thighs now, eagerly licking his limp dick, lasciviously playing with the meat to make him rise again.
"Get me a cigarette," the sheriff snapped. She hurried to obey. He was still angry over the way she'd made him come in a few seconds like that. Well, goddammit, he told himself sternly, that's what he got for letting her get on top! Give those greedy bitches an inch and they took a mile every time.
Never again, not with her anyway.
The sheriff had to be on top always, in the sack and out of it. He permitted his wife Val to do just about anything she wanted with him sexually, but she was a different story, tough, cynical, even cruel beneath her sleek sexiness, like himself.
Watching the voluptuous brunette hand him a cigarette through narrowed eyes, the sheriff toyed with the idea of letting Val use that monstrous dildo on her, right up her juicy ass! It would serve her right, by God, and she wouldn't be able to sit down for a week afterward. The horny bitch was already back down between his legs, licking and sucking and kissing on his rod, impatient for more. He smoked in silence as his prick rose again, coaxed quickly by her expertly teasing lips and fingers.
"Get me my belt," he commanded her in a deceptively soft voice. "Take care when you unsnap the gun-holster."
She raised her head quickly, fear and excitement both shining in her lustrous dark eyes. She opened her mouth to ask him what for and then quickly shut it again.
She knew. She also knew better than to question him.
He watched her ripe creamy ass bounce sensuously as she crossed the room and carefully removed his gun, and then the belt from his pants. She brought the thick leather strap back to him, her fingers trembling as she held it out.
The sheriff slowly sat up on the sofa and took the belt, finishing his cigarette casually, watching her tits heave and tremble. He wound half the belt around his big fist and stood up, his rod looming out like a bright-red battering ram.
"Get your ass over the arm of the sofa," he told her.
For the first time Jenny hesitated. "Are you—are you going to spank me?"
He laughed, a cutting sound. "No, ma'am. I'm going to whip you on your big, luscious ass. And then, when it's just the right color... Get down!"
A sob caught in the brunette's throat, but she hurried to obey, her skin flushing and her blood singing in her ears. She felt a very peculiar excitement, unlike any sex-excitement she'd ever felt before. She knew, from her extensive reading, how pain could replace pleasure, how both could be alternated and blended so that after a while you could no longer tell the difference between torment and ecstasy, and you couldn't climax unless it really hurt...
She was terrified, but at the same time the town librarian was filled with a deep, driving curiosity. As she huddled nakedly over the arm of the sofa, her white ass-cheeks trembling furiously in suspense, Jenny vividly recalled the feel of the knotted scarf ripping out of her thrilled asshole, the sudden breathtaking jolt of pain-pleasure that raced through her flesh.
And crouched over the armrest with her dangling tits crushed to the sofa seat, her skin trembling madly, Jenny had never felt so weak, so utterly helpless or so completely feminine in her life.
Or so deliciously terrified and excited...
Standing over her, Ed traced his fingers gently over the silky flesh of her lush ass-cheeks and his cock quivered urgently. Then in a swift vicious arc he brought the thick leather end of the belt down on the soft flesh, and Jenny let out a terrified yelp.
The sheriff brought it down again and again, harder each time over her ripe naked ass, so furiously that by now Jenny could no longer cry or even catch her breath. Sheets of white-hot pain tore through her buttocks, breathtaking bolts of pain that left her weak and dizzy.
And tremendously hot.
Her inflamed cunt was now pressing urgently against the armrest of the sofa, trying to fuck it in her delirious madness, gushing honey over the padded arm. With each lash across her raw ass-flesh, a violent spasm of lust raced through her burning loins and her heart pounded with fierce excitement.
At twenty-eight years old and with a sexual history of only two men behind her, the town librarian was just discovering the strange delights of feverish torment.
In some vague way, she suspected it had to do with cheating on her husband, that she secretly needed the punishment for being unfaithful to sweet, mellow Henry. But whatever the reason, it was the results that counted. And the sobbing, wildly aroused brunette began to come all over the sofa from sheer depraved ecstasy as the ruthless whipping continued.
Looming over her now-crimson ass, the sheriff knew exactly what Jenny was feeling. The fancy, elegant ones always loved this, always felt guilty enough to really get their rocks off with a good ass-whipping. That's the way they paid for their sins! It was okay to fuck around on your husband if you got punished for it, so you might as well enjoy the punishment too.
There was just no end to the strange logic of the female mind!
They could take a simple healthy urge to fuck and turn it into a psychiatrist's nightmare.
Suddenly Ed tossed the belt aside. He stood behind her, spreading her beet-red cheeks with his hands. The flesh practically sizzled beneath his fingers. He placed the huge knob of his rod directly against her tiny puckered asshole.
Then slammed forward with savage strength.
A high keening scream came from the brunette's lips and for a moment she felt as if a burning baseball bat had been rammed up her helpless asshole. When the sheriff began pumping relentlessly into her ravaged butthole, pounding his prick deep and brutally in her tormented ass, Jenny clawed in a frenzy of pain and mad excitement at the sofa beneath her, not daring to breathe as he ripped into her with a fury.
"Ah, lady what a hot and juicy asshole!" he groaned, shaking his head from side to side as he plowed into the squirming slippery tunnel. It was tighter and hotter than her frantic pussy, churning and writhing in agony beneath his big rod, hot, luscious and wildly exciting.
He'd taken her this way before—the first time he'd had sex with her, in fact, which shocked and horrified her, not to mention thrilling her beyond her wildest fantasies—but with her ass-flesh burning raw from the whipping, the gorged sensation in Jenny's bowels was shatteringly intense, so much so that she couldn't stop coming. Each time he thrust forward with his massive knob ripping deep until she felt it, she thought, in the very pit of her belly, she wriggled her hips back to impale herself even more violently, her cunt going into feverish spasms of obscene rapture.
"F—fucking my ass!" she managed to gasp with hot tears in her eyes. "Yessss! Fuck me harder! Ooooh, yes! Ungh!"
Ed groaned and grunted as he pistoned his rod to a savage rhythm inside her lush cheeks, feeling her boiling bowels begin to suck at his load. This was one time when he really didn't have any more control, because her tender, juicy asshole worked on him like an electric suction pump.
What kind of weird broad would stuff a silk scarf up her ass when she had seven healthy inches of cock available anyway?
The feel of her blazing ass-cheeks against his crotch each time he slammed forward gave him an added charge, so that he felt himself beginning to shoot off in sudden, violent spasms. Her cheeks trembled wildly and she raved and cried as his boiling load shot deep in her stinging bowels, a foun- tain of wet fire that tickled and thrilled and ached all at once.
This time the sheriff came for only twenty seconds, then slipped his limp rod out with a deep sigh. He slapped her sharply on the ass, a playful gesture, but after the whipping it felt like a branding-iron to the tormented librarian.
"How's that for a little novelty, lady?" he grinned.
Very slowly, Jenny stood up, her tits swaying and her ass on fire with pain and lingering orgasms.
"You're an animal!" she sobbed.
With a smile of sheer contempt, the sheriff reached out and brutally pinched one of her rosy nipples to make her yelp.
"That makes two of us animals," he cracked. "You loved it, honey, so don't give me any bullshit."
He glanced at his watch and frowned. "Shit! I'm ten minutes late in calling in."
He began dressing quickly, while the librarian put her clothes on cautiously, afraid to make any quick movements that might wiggle her raw ass-cheeks. With his uniform on, his gun dangling and his black boots polished to a high shine, the sheriff looked more than ever like a Gestapo officer.
She stared at his gun with fascination. Maybe someday she'd ask him to... No! Really, that was too sick! Having him rape her with his .38 Smith and Wesson Police Special!
But staring briefly into her eyes, the sheriff once again knew exactly what she was thinking, from the hot-eyed way she was gazing at his gun. Guns fascinated women like her, because they could shoot off like cocks, and because they were so dangerous.
"Thinking about a little barrel-tickling?" he asked softly.
Her face flushed. "Don't be grotesque!" she retorted.
He came up to the brunette and lewdly rubbed his hand over her crotch through her shapeless dress to make her tremble from head to toe and whimper.
"Will you come back tomorrow at noon?" she asked breathlessly.
He shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. It depends on my schedule."
"How many women do you have on your daily schedule, sheriff?" she asked eagerly.
He laughed at her. That always turned them on, too. They loved to hear about his other conquests, pumping him for details about the sex, always comparing themselves to their faceless rivals... but secretly wanting to watch and then join in.
"That's none of your business," he told her crisply. "I may be back tomorrow. Hold it on ice for me."
"Bastard," she hissed as he strode out the door, slamming it behind him.
Jenny slumped in the chair behind her desk, lighting a cigarette with shaking fingers. God, her ass felt like raw hamburger! She could feel his come still trickling in her bowels, a sticky, delicious feeling of shame and lust.
The sheriff was a problem in more ways than one. For one thing, he was getting her used to sex on a very regular and violent basis. It was out of the question to try and be satisfied with her husband now. Even if Henry did screw her every night—which he didn't—there was no brutality, no thrilling surprises, no ass-whippings and harsh commands, no element of risk. There was just soft, mushy, poetic groping. Damn!
For another thing, and this was even more frightening, her mind had begun to dwell on the scores of healthy young boys... and girls... who strolled in and out of the county library every day. They could be had easily, if she were careful.
But the danger, the risk, was tremendous.
That goddamn sheriff was now getting her to crave risk. Having put her toe in the water to see how cold it was, she was now tempted to plunge in with everything, mouth, hands, tits, ass, pussy, every inch of her trembling, insatiable flesh.
Jenny put out her cigarette, coiled up and pinned her shimmering chestnut hair, put on her thick glasses and gingerly walked out of her office, wondering if her burning ass would ever cool off.
She went to the front reception desk and relieved the young girl there for lunch. She watched the girl walk away, her cute ass bouncing, her smooth silken legs brushing each other and a fierce tingle rose in Jenny's lips.
Her face flushed and she turned her eyes down to the desk as she wondered what it would be like to get a uniform like the sheriff's, with a belt and boots and a real gun, to dress up in the uniform, naked beneath, the shirt unbuttoned so that her creamy tits flared out in a very sexy display, and then to do everything to a tender young girl that the sheriff had done to her...
The thought took Jenny's breath away. It was the most erotic, madly exciting idea she'd ever had.
Pure insanity, of course. She could never get away with such a thing in a conservative town like this. They'd tar and feather her and undoubtedly lynch her if she ever got caught.
She wouldn't do it, of course. She was basically a sensible woman, with a career, a reputation, a distinguished husband. She would take control of her wild urges this very moment.
She turned to some paperwork, her hands busy, but only a small portion of her racing mind occupied. Actually, she knew, in order to get such a uniform all she had to do was go north to San Francisco. It didn't have to be an exact sheriff's uniform. There was a costume shop in the city that sold near-duplicates for stage purposes.
But of course the prim town librarian would never do such a bizarre thing.
The boots could have five-inch spike heels, and the uniform could be custom-tailored so that every ripe inch of her statuesque body was displayed to sexy perfection.
She could get handcuffs, too. And perhaps a shiny black whip.
No, she would never, never dare risk such madness.
But oh God, the thought was terrifically exciting! Quickly, Jenny told herself it was a sick thought, that she was merely indulging in an elaborate penis-envy complex, a lurid fantasy.
But, just for the heck of it, she'd take a little drive to San Francisco tonight. The weather was so nice...
The sheriff had a funny way of leaving shattered destinies in his lustful path, of changing lives and characters and fortunes drastically with his massive hard-ons. Between himself and his sultry wife, dozens of lives had been changed beyond belief.
To him, the ripely curved, stunningly sexy librarian was just another notch in his gun-belt, but to Jenny, he was the savage stranger who would change her simple life forever...