Chapter 3
Sergeant David Montrose backed the Impala onto the street, ignoring the angry blast of a horn and the squealing tires of a startled Ford sedan. Darting angry eyes at the glowing windows of the bungalow, he shifted gears and roared off into the darkness.
Violet was becoming impossible. She was beautiful. She was, when she wanted to be, an excellent housekeeper and talented cook. That was the rub, he thought grimly, swinging the car into the parking lot of the police station. When she wanted to be, his wife was the best lay he had ever had. Even when she just lay there, she had one of the hottest cunts he had ever enjoyed. It wouldn't be easy to ignore that furry slit. But he had meant it when he said he was through. The next move was up to her.
He slammed into the locker room, answering the scattered greetings with a detached air, buckling on his holster and checking the thirty-eight before sliding it into the leather nest.
Outside the briefing room, talking with a willowy redhead in matching uniform, Shirley Bascomb gave him a warm smile and waved aside his apology.
"I waited until I was pretty sure something had come up," she said. "Then I called a cab. It was no trouble."
Dave waited until the redhead was out of earshot before explaining, "It was part of that problem I hinted at yesterday. I didn't want to mention it then, because I thought I could work it out. It's Vi. She's becoming impossible."
"Vi?" Shirley echoed, a little frown creasing her forehead. "Impossible? She seems like such a sweet person."
"You don't have to live with her," Dave said harshly. Then he waved his hand. "I didn't mean that. Damn it! I love her. But we just can't get along." He glanced into the briefing room and adjusted his badge. "She knows I pick you up each day. Today, she deliberately stalled me so I'd be late."
"Maybe she just wasn't thinking," Shirley suggested.
"She knew," Dave countered. "Hell! She even accused me of making out with you."
"But," Shirley protested, "you've never even made a pass at me." She made a wry face. "In fact, I've wondered why you haven't. Maybe I'm losing my sex appeal."
He ran his eyes up and down her lush body, lingering on the thrusting breasts. He shook his head. "Anything you've lost, you didn't need. If I were, a single man, you'd be fighting me off eight hours a day."
Her long lashes flicked up and down and she gave him a seductive smile. "What makes you think I'd be fighting?"
Without waiting for an answer, she led the way into the big room, joining the uniformed officers at the long tables facing the small stand and blackboard.
During the next ten minutes, both she and Dave were busy taking notes and filing away the data supplied by a paunchy lieutenant with a raspy voice.
It was not until they were settled in the patrol car that Dave brought up the subject again, clearing his throat before saying, "Don't get uptight, Shirley, over what I said. I guess I shouldn't have told you about Vi."
"I'm glad you did," Shirley answered. "It helps me understand you a little better. I was about ready to believe you never had any problems."
His face creased. "You name 'em, kid," he chuckled. "I've got 'em. I just don't wear them on my arm like some guys. By the way, how are you and Chuck making out?"
Shirley made her tits rise and fall in what was meant for a shrug. "Chuck still has a low opinion of the force. In his eyes, a police officer ranks just a little below a pregnant ant."
"Pretty-boy might change his tune," Dave grunted, "if he ever gets mixed up with those bastards he's always defending on his newscasts. I like the guy, personally. But some of his editorials make me puke!"
Dave had just eased the car around a corner when the radio brought his foot down on the gas and he flipped the light and siren into life with a deft motion. The terse message informed the pair that a physical assault was still in progress at the liquor store only a block away.
"Don't hesitate to use that pea-shooter!" Dave growled. "Some of these punks would just as soon rip your guts out as look at you!"
He was out of the car almost before it stopped moving, hand on the butt of his revolver as he plunged through the door of the small store, his eyes sweeping the interior. Shirley was only a few steps behind him.
Bottle-filled shelves lined both sides of the store, and a low counter ran across the back with more shelves behind it. A middle-aged man was on his knees in front of the counter, blood oozing from a small cut on his left cheek. In front of the man, a slender blond-haired youth held a pistol pointed menacingly at the man's head.
A huge man leaned over the counter, his body almost obscuring the figure of the girl beneath him. All Dave could see were her slender legs sticking out on each side of the man's pumping hips.
"Drop that gun!" Dave roared, moving forward toward the blond youth. "Police officers!" His own gun was in his fist, its muzzle trained on the boy's lean waist.
Closer now, he could see the girl on the counter, her dress pushed up about her waist, and her crotch writhing helplessly as the big man plunged his thick cock in and out of her furry slit.
Shirley, fumbling in her shoulder bag for her weapon, stared at the scene in disbelief. The man was still hunching, even as he glared over his shoulder at Dave's gun.
It was impossible that anyone could continue to do that under the circumstances. But the bearded giant was slamming his enormous prick in and out of the girl's pussy just as though they didn't exist. The girl, a dark-haired and pretty creature who appeared to be about nineteen or twenty, was not screaming, only grunting each time the monster cock drove up into her helpless snatch.
"You filthy son of a bitch!" Dave roared, flinging himself forward and raising the gun like a blackjack.
The bearded man reached out with one massive arm, swatting Dave aside like a pesky fly. The motion tugged his cock from the girl's body, and Shirley gasped as she saw the size of the glistening shaft, rearing from his open fly in impossible length and thickness.
Before she could move, the man had swung a giant fist to Dave's jaw, sending him back and down, his eyes rolling upward before the lids closed.
Her own fingers gripped her revolver and she started to lift it. She felt the blond youth's fist close tightly about her wrist, and the muzzle of his ugly gun jammed low against her belly, just above the sensitive mound of her cunt "Bring your hand out empty, bitch!" Jabber grunted. "Or you'll be the only dame in town with two pussies!"
"Hang onto her, Jabber!" Fats growled, giving Dave's sprawled body a tentative kick. "Let me finish up!"
The girl on the counter had not moved, except to spread her legs a little wider when the big man pulled away. Shirley could see the expanded lips of her pussy, reddened from the frictioning of the big cock and wet from the juices pulled from deep inside her young body.
"She ain't goin' nowhere," the blond youth grinned, shifting the muzzle lower, using it to trace the vertical cleft of Shirley's snatch. She gasped at the contact but managed to hold her hips motionless as the hardness moved up and down in an obscene caress.
The bearded man turned back to the girl on the counter, settling his hips between her thighs and feeding his enormous prick into her pussy with a grunt of satisfaction, slipping his hands beneath her bottom and pulling her toward him until their bodies met, beginning a steady hunching that moved the girl's slender figure back and forth with its violence. Shirley could hear the wet squishing of the big prick, and to her surprise, she felt a responsive tingling in the soft mound where the gun still rubbed with a pressure just short of pain.
On the floor, the middle-aged man spoke for the first time, his voice laced with anger and fear. "That's my daughter!"
Jabber gave a short humorless chuckle. "Daughter, my ass! How comes she was blowin' you when we walked in?" He turned his eyes back to Shirley's face, his tone almost conversational.
"We come in to pick up a few bottles," he explained, "and she was down on her knees behind the counter, chewin' on his dong like it was candy. That's how come Fats got warmed up. When he gets a bone, there ain't no way of stoppin' him."
The big man was grunting now, slamming his hips against the girl's crotch with furious hunches. He tightened his grip on her ass cheeks and picked her up until only her head and shoulders remained on the counter. Her legs beat the air as he jabbed his huge cock deep and hard.
"Take it, bitch!" he grunted. "Make that pussy suck for me!"
The girl gave a strangled cry as the man's hips jerked in orgasmic rhythm. But Shirley was certain the cry was one of pleasure rather than pain.
The man hauled his spent prick from her body and dumped her onto the counter, stuffing his dripping phallus back into his fly. He turned to pick up a large paper bag from the counter, ignoring the naked body only inches away. It seemed naked, to Shirley's helpless gaze. The dress was hiked almost to the lower curve of her big tits, displaying tanned flesh and thick pubic hair, and the red slit from which a thick white cream now trickled to slide down over her winking anus.
"Let's go, Jabber," the big man said, his eyes drifting over Shirley's big breasts. "The Professor'!! give us hell over this."
"How's he gonna know?" the blond youth demanded. He shifted the gun with amazing speed and yanked Shirley's skirt up, running his hand between her thighs and cupping his palm over the soft mound of her pussy. "Goddamn, Fats!" he exclaimed. "You ought to feel this cunt! I'll bet you could suck a gallon of jism out of this crack!"
The heavy beard parted to reveal a pair of thick red lips. "I can wait," the man murmured. "Come on! take her gun and let's blow!"
As the blond lad appropriated her revolver, the giant bent with surprising agility and retrieved Dave's gun, jamming it beneath his belt. He walked back to Shirley and leaned so close his lips were almost touching hers.
"See you at the party, Miss Fuzz," he growled. "I'm gonna eat your cunt out like a juicy watermelon!"
The blond youth giggled. "You gonna muff her before or after I fuck her, Fats?"
The big man grinned, rolling his eyes. "Shit, man! Either way. You fuck her, it'll just make her that much juicier!"
As soon as the pair had gone, Shirley dropped to her knees over the unconscious Dave, happy to find his pulse strong and only a faint discoloration on his jaw. The middle-aged man struggled to his feet and brought her a wet cloth which she applied to Dave's face, gently, discovering a strange emotion as she traced his cheek and forehead. Before it could be identified, she pushed it aside.
Dave's eyes fluttered, opened, rolled, then settled on her hovering face. He winced as she touched his jaw, and he tried to sit up. She pushed him back.
"They're gone, Dave," she assured him. "I'm all right. There's nothing anyone can do at the moment. Just take it easy."
His eyes closed and his lips worked. "What about the girl?"
Shirley glanced about to make sure the middle-aged man couldn't hear her. Both he and the girl had disappeared into a back room.
"It seems we walked into something more than an assault," she said. "The girl is passing herself off as the man's daughter, and she may be. But she was giving him head when the two men came in. The big one climbed her, but it wasn't rape."
"How do you know?"
"I saw and heard it, Dave. I don't know what she'll say happened. But she was cooperating like crazy."
Dave sat up, working his jaw and rubbing his hand gingerly along the slight swelling. "I was a goddamn fool!" he muttered. "A first-month rookie wouldn't have done what I did."
"You thought with your heart, Dave, instead of your head."
"I'll let you in on a little rule I learned when I first became a cop," he said. "If you think with your heart instead of your head, you lose your ass." He grinned. "Pardon the language."
She smiled, helping him to his feet. "After what I've just seen and heard, that's pretty mild."
Dave patted his empty holster. "I suppose they took our guns." He sighed when she nodded. "We're gonna have one hell of a job explaining this."
"I feel terrible," Shirley admitted. "I should have been able to back you up. Instead, I stood there like a damned idiot and let that kid disarm me."
"We were both idiots," he reminded her. "Come on, let's check on the man and the girl."
"Look, officers," the man argued, when they found him in the back with the girl. "I can't afford any trouble. Betty's only fifteen, and her parents would put me away if they found out she's been living with me like this. Why can't we just forget about it?"
Dave looked at the girl who sat on the edge of a rumpled bed. Aside from a slight flush on her admittedly pretty face, she showed no visible effects of the past few minutes. "How about it, miss? Will you press charges against those two?"
She shook her head. "You heard what daddy said. It'd just cause trouble. We don't want that."
Shirley plucked at Dave's sleeve, drawing him out of the room to where she could whisper, "It would get us off the hook, Dave. Nobody else answered the call, and these people around here don't talk about what they see happen. Why don't we just report it as a scuffle and let it go?"
"I don't like it," he grumbled. "But it would be a lot less messy. We can swing by one of the pawn shops and pick up a couple of guns."
She nodded. "Right. Then, later, we can report ours stolen from home or the car. That'll take care of the registration."
"I wonder who turned in the call," Dave mused as they left the store.
"Whoever did," Shirley answered, "must have kept going. I didn't see anyone outside all the time we were in there."
In the car, Dave checked his jaw in the mirror and frowned. "Officially," he growled, "this never happened. But I want a second round with that big bastard. This time, I'll use my head."
"They shouldn't be difficult to locate," Shirley said. "I picked up three names. The big one is called Fats. The blond's name is Jabber, and they said something about a professor."
"Nicknames," Dave grunted. "But they might help. I'll check R and I when we go in."
He picked up the mike and rattled off a quick report of a family squabble with no need for further investigation. The speaker chattered a confirmation and he heaved a sigh of relief. He set the patrol car in motion.
"What happened after Fats slugged me?" he demanded.
Shirley hesitated. She could have given an accurate report under different conditions. But the intimacy of the car made the words come out only with great difficulty. She forced her way through, avoiding any mention of the gun that had caressed her crotch.
"This Fats," Dave murmured, halting the car in front of a grimy shop. "You kept using the words big and huge. How big was it?"
She held up her hand, making a semi-circle of thumb and forefinger, but keeping their tips far apart. Then, as Dave gave a soundless whistle, she made a measurement in the air.
"That's a goddamn foot!" he exclaimed. "Nobody's built like that!"
She frowned. "I saw it, Dave," she said forcefully. "It was at least ten inches. But it looked more like a foot."
"But, my god!" he argued. "That would tear a woman up!"
She shook her head, giving him a tight smile. "You may not believe this, but that girl was loving everything he was doing to her."
"Jesus!" he murmured, climbing out of the car and joining her on the sidewalk to enter the small shop. "A foot long!"
As Sergeant David Montrose and Patrolwoman Shirley Bascomb examined the guns displayed by the anxious proprietor, Jacob Garland, otherwise known as Professor, tired of pumping his formidable cock in Myrtle's admittedly delightful tail.
It had been fine at the start, for her asshole was tight, and each stroke made her jerk and cry out with the near-pain of his deep thrust. But the intestinal sleeve had relaxed as he continued his slow fucking, and her cries subsided. Now, it was merely a routine screw. The excitement was gone.
"I'm going to have Fats ream you, bitch!" he muttered, angry because he could think of no way to make the action more interesting. "Wait till he shoves that damned sausage up your butt!"
The threat sent an involuntary clenching through Myrtle's intestine that squeezed Jake's cock with a hundred hot rings of slippery muscles. Rocking his buttocks on Queenie's tits, he rammed in and out with furious shoves, jarring the girl's body with the hard thrusts that carried his prick ball-deep in her helpless ass.
Beneath the girl's crotch, Queenie tried to maintain her oral contact with Myrtle's pussy. But the savage hammering rocked the kneeling body, and Queenie settled for holding her tongue stiffened against the juicy labia, letting the pliant furrow slide back and forth over its vibrating tip.
Jake was in the short rows, jabbing deep and fast as his pleasure mounted, stabbing through his dancing balls and opening the floodgates for his roiling sperm. Grunting hoarsely, he reamed the dark-haired girl until he felt the ecstatic release of his surging load.
With a savage shove of his hands, he pushed Myrtle forward, her movement tugging the impaled anus up his shaft and releasing the heart-shaped knob just as his come spilled from the slitted tip. The white cream splattered over Queenie's startled face, spraying her nose and forehead before Jake could adjust the angle of his jerking cock. The second spurt coated her upper lip, and she tried to lift her head to claim the jetting prick.
Her mouth was open, the red full lips shaping themselves for the head of Jake's cock, seeking to draw it into her mouth where she could drink the hot sperm that had already splashed its ropy cream on her flushed skin.
Jake's fingers grabbed her blonde hair, slamming her head down onto the bed, holding her in place as he arched over her, his prick pointed into her oral entrance, but not touching the eager tongue that strained to reach the purple head.
The white cream spilled against her bared teeth, one spurt hurtling between tongue and palate to make her gag as it filled her gulping throat. As her mouth closed in helpless reflex, Jake rammed the cock against the wet lips, smearing another volley of thick liquid over chin and cheeks, his hips whipping from side to side to drag the knob of his shaft across her contorted features.
With the last feeble trickle spilling from the reddened eye of his cock, he sank back onto her tits, making her grunt as his weight flattened the big mounds. Deliberately, he pulled the strands of hair around and rubbed them through the white puddles on her face.
"Turn around, Myrtle," he groaned to the other girl, still kneeling at the head of the bed, her back to him. "You've got a cleanup job."
He waited until Myrtle had turned to stare down at Queenie's come-streaked face. He wiggled his prick impatiently and she bent over it, making an oval of her soft lips and fitting her mouth about the cream-coated glans, the warm tongue licking with avid caresses.
"You like it this way," Jake grunted, ramming his hips forward to shove his cock back into the girl's cooperative mouth. "Don't you, you cock-sucking whore?"
He cupped his hands about her head and pushed her face down, driving the head of his prick into her gulping throat and holding her in place until she began struggling for breath, her impalement blocking the air passage with its throbbing bulk. He eased the pressure to let her lips slide up about the thick shaft, slowly, waiting until she brought the tongue into play again before yanking his tool free.
"Lick Queenie's face," he ordered. "You like come so fucking much, lap it up like a fucking dog!"
The girl obeyed, using her tongue like a wet sponge to gather up the puddles of sticky semen, drawing it into her mouth and swallowing with little whimpers of perverted pleasure. When she reached the blonde's mouth, Queenie's own tongue flicked out to meet her, and the two girls exchanged a wet kiss, lips sucking noisily as each tried to claim the taste of Jake's tart semen.
Jake worked his hips downward over the blonde's naked body, fitting them between her sprawled legs. He slid his cock into the mushy grip of her juicy cunt, adjusting his torso so he could observe the continued play of Myrtle's tongue over Queenie's face. Then, with a soft groan of satisfaction, he began fucking the slippery jaws of her responsive pussy.