Chapter 8
It was an ambush, clear and simple. The police had been outside all along, watching everything that went on through field glasses. They were just waiting for him to get through with me before they blasted him. When he took the petty cash box, that just gave them more reason to fill him full of holes.
Hearing the bullets ricocheting off the pavement and building, I jumped off the deck, grabbing for my clothes. I hurriedly dressed, trying to hide the evidence of my shame.
However, it turned out that the cops knew everything that had been going on. The only difference covering myself up meant was that I didn't wind up gang-banged by a platoon of horny cops in addition to being raped.
The sergeant made things clear the first thing he said after he stormed inside the library with a squad of armed patrolmen behind him. 'The bastard's dead, and it's a good thing for you we killed him."
I just stood there, unable to speak.
"If he'd lived and got himself a good defense lawyer, they never could've pinned rape on him."
"I... I don't understand," I managed to stammer.
"Not with the way you were cooperating," he said with an evil smile. "We were witnesses. Half the police force would've wound up testifying for the defense. It's a good thing for you the sonofabitch decided at the last minute to swipe the cashbox, or we might not have been able to justify blasting him."
I suppose I could have asked why they hadn't intervened long before the rapist actually fucked me. But, then, that would have been hypocritical, since there was no way I could deny to myself that I surely would have regretted missing the terrific pronging he gave me in both holes.
Any protest to the cops from me would have led to them just rubbing it in all the more. Particularly their obnoxious sergeant. So I kept my mouth shut and endured the shame. Still, it made my skin creep to know that the sergeant and over half a dozen of his men had whiled away the evening watching me get raped.
As it turned out, though, the sergeant kept his mouth shut when he wrote the official report. Which meant that I got a lot of sympathy from the library staff when they heard the laundered version of what happened.
Only Miss Greenstalk was unsympathetic. Whenever the subject of the assault on me that night came up, and the others oohed and ahhed in sympathy, Miss Greenstalk just remained aloof, the expression on her face indicating that she felt I'd gotten just what I deserved.
The ultimate result of all this was that a policeman was assigned to protect the night-duty librarian. My curiosity as to why the sergeant had gallantly put nothing in his report about his negative impressions of my behavior was quickly satisfied. In the first place, the police were parlaying my misfortune into extra jobs for themselves. But compared to the rest of it, their avarice seemed noble.
The first night a cop was there to allegedly protect me revealed the whole story. I quickly realized that while the sergeant may have kept his mouth shut to the papers and the library, and in his official report, he and the other witnesses had spread the word about me to every cop on the force. They had me marked as easy pussy.
The first cop's name was Pulaski. He was a big, strong guy, who seemed as thick between the ears as he was between the shoulders. But 111 say one thing for him, though, he didn't beat around the bush.
About eight, with the library empty on another cold night and an hour to go before closing, he followed me behind the desk and trapped me in a corner. There was no doubt about what he had on his mind. The bulge at his crotch was bigger and more menacing than his .38 special.
"What do you want?" I asked, knowing full well what the answer was.
"What do I want?" he laughed. "That's a hot one. Wait'll the boys at the station hear that one."
"Are you insinuating that I'm the one who wants something?" I asked bitterly.
I tried to look him right in the eye, and shut him off Bright then and there. Instead, I found my gaze uncontrollably dropping to below his belt buckle.
Taken aback at first from the harshness of my words, his boldness returned in a rush when he saw the descending level of my vision. "Want me to spell it out for you?" he practically drooled.
"If you think you can," I spat.
"K-O-C-K," he spelled it out gleefully and incorrectly like the big idiot he was. But he could have spelled it Q-R-X-J and I'd have had no doubt what he was talking about.
So there. It was out in the open. Now there was no kidding myself-I had to deal with it.
What could I do? I couldn't threaten to tell his superior. His superior was the sergeant who'd started the rumors that I was an easy piece for anybody wearing a badge in the first place.
Even if I went to the library board, I wouldn't have a leg to stand on. According to local ordinances, the police department investigated themselves when any citizen complaints were made. Any investigation into a complaint made by me would probably wind up with an official report that I had provoked the whole thing, and was well known as being promiscuous. I'd wind up losing my job at the very least. Physically trapped in the comer by Pulaski's pressing bulk, I was in a hopeless position. No matter what I did it would be wrong. The only practical solution was to swallow my pride and cut my losses.
I didn't even bother to say anything. My ultimate response to his advances was to reach out and fumble for the tab of his zipper. With a screech his fly was open and the white bulge of his jockey shorts being filled by his swollen cock and balls oozed out of his pants.
Unbuttoning his pants and pulling down the elastic of his shorts, I found myself suddenly staring straight at the head of a long, twitching cock. It sprang out in the open like an enraged snake, leering at me.
Patrolman Pulaski's big Polish dick resembled nothing so much as a big, thick Polish sausage. I couldn't help wondering if the similarity had something to do with how the sausage had gotten its name.
Before now I had been repelled by the cops' assumption that I would jump at the chance to throw myself at their cocks. But, seeing Pulaski's thick, throbbing prick, I immediately began to reconsider.
There was no way that any normal woman could resist the temptation to try out such an immense cock when confronted with it, regardless of the degrading circumstances. A dick like Pulaski's inevitably cut all moral ties. If I had been a nun, my sudden desire to have my mouth fucked by his prick would have been no less.
There was no point in saying anything. Not when I could use my mouth to abruptly swallow his cock like it was the food I needed to stay alive.. His prick was as salty as the sausage I had mentally compared it to, engorged my mouth with its meaty pungency.
His hairy balls churned with excitement as I squeezed them. The harder I sucked his cock, the more they throbbed, hot cauldrons of sperm brewing inside. I closed my eyes and imagined the creamy elixir I would soon be guzzling.
My cunt was seething, flooding the flimsy crotch of my panties with a flow of passionate juice. My tits throbbed wildly in my bra, begging to be free.
"Feel my tits," I mumbled around his pistoning cock. "Put your hand in my blouse and squeeze them. Please!"
He lost no time accepting my invitation. His huge hands scraped roughly against my skin, pinching my turgid nipples. As he rubbed my breasts, gouging his fingers deeply into their spongy flesh, I started what was certain to be a long, continuous stream of orgasms.
While he fucked my mouth, I grabbed one of his hands from my tits, and crammed it between my thighs. "Finger-fuck me while I suck your cock," I moaned. "As many fingers as you can get inside my pussy. Hurry... hurry... before you come."
It was difficult making myself understood with a stiff cock in my mouth, but the effort was worth it. When he got the message, Pulaski's response was exhilaratingly gratifying. Three big fingers shot up my pussy, filling my cunt as solidly as if there were a cock engorging it.
His fucking fingers started me coming in one, long continuous stream. Juice flowed like wine from my cunt, drenching the blue cuff of his uniform sleeve. My hips humped in the classic fucking motion, sending him further and further into me, his fingertips pressing against the mouth of my womb.
My endless orgasm made my mouth contract, squeezing his cock as though he were fucking a coming pussy. Semen instantly poured down my throat as his dick abruptly exploded. All of a sudden, sperm was everywhere.
I gobbled it down, greedily sucking Pulaski's love-juice. A hot pool of jizz settled in the pit of my stomach, filling my abdomen with radiant male warmth.
Pulaski's fingers shot one last time to the ultimate in my cunt, and then just stayed there. He gouged the walls of my pussy, bruising them with sharp inches. The pain was divine.
I couldn't stop coming. My body shuddered so intensely that I felt like I would shake apart at the seams. My crotch was a swamp as my cunt creamed and creamed and creamed.
Finally I fell to the floor, unable to take any more. When I landed in a heap on my back, my legs came open and my skirt flew up. Looking between my legs, I could see that my pussy gaped open. My cunt was so hot, steam seemed to be rising from it.
Pulaski just stood there looking at my spread cunt with his long, red tongue hanging out. His cock hung out, too, only bigger and redder and wetter. White cum slid in huge drops from the end of his wilting tool, the final evidence of my sucking ability.
"Boy!" he said, wiping off his dick and stuffing it back into his pants. "Wait'll the boys at the station hear about this."
I winced. But then my orgasmic afterglow mercifully overwhelmed me, and I just closed my mind to anything but the joy of just having come after having been so horny I'd thought I'd die if I didn't wrap my lips around a hard, stiff cock.