Chapter 8
Newkirk drove straight to the Bailey house. He parked in the driveway and strode purposefully to the front door. He leaned on the doorbell, hoping Mrs. Bailey wasn't at the health club.
Sylvia Bailey answered the door barefoot, wearing a simple cotton housedress that buttoned down the front. "Well, Sergeant Newkirk. Did you come by to tell me you caught the burglar?"
"No, ma'am," he replied. Always on the prowl, his eyes automatically flicked up and down her body. She wasn't wearing a bra. Her unfettered nipples were trying to punch holes in her dress. He wondered if she was wearing panties. "I came by to see if you had anything else to add to the inventory you gave me."
Sylvia stepped back and opened the door for him to enter. "Can I get you something to drink?" she asked as she led him into the living room. "I'm having a Bloody Mary and watching the soaps. Typical housewife, huh?" She grinned weakly and shrugged. "Didn't feel like going to the club today."
"I'm on duty," he said.
"Well, at least you didn't say it's too early in the day." She picked up her glass and drank deeply. "My husband didn't tell you the truth, you know."
"Oh? About what?"
"He and his buddies might have watched the football game, but they had a woman here, too. Two, I think. I found two different colors of lipstick on the towels in the guest bathroom."
So, the girls did leave the room. Either alone or together. Probably together. A woman can't go to the John by herself if another woman is in the room. Didn't matter. Both had a chance to case the place.
"You'd better talk to him about that, ma'am."
She turned quickly to face him, her eyes wide and bright. "You already knew he brought in a couple of girls and screwed them, didn't you? You didn't come here about the inventory. You talked to my husband, and you came here to see if I wanted to get even with him. I saw the way you looked at me Sunday and just now when I answered the door."
Newkirk didn't answer. His eyes wandered slowly up and down her body.
"Sunday wasn't the first time," Sylvia said.
"He's been playing around for years. He thinks I'll divorce him and clean him out if I find out." She unbuttoned the top three buttons of her dress. "I found out a long time ago! I had a choice to make then, and I made it." She unbuttoned three more buttons of her dress. "I won't divorce him, sergeant. Not now, not ever. If he ever brings another woman into my house and screws her in front of me, I might shoot the son of a bitch, but I will not divorce him!"
She bunched up her dress and unbuttoned the last three buttons. She dropped the dress and let it hang open. She wasn't wearing panties. She kept her bush trimmed to a narrow slash of blonde hair along her slit.
She saw him looking at her pussy and smiled faintly. "I wear a thong bikini when I swim at the club," she said. "Hank won't let me wear something that leaves my ass bare when we're together. He thinks I have a nice ass and doesn't want other men to ogle me. Typical man, huh?"
"I wouldn't know," Newkirk said. "I don't see anything wrong with a woman wearing a thong bikini if she has a nice ass."
"My husband thinks I only work out at the club. I do, but not always the way he thinks. Two can play that game." She walked quickly to Newkirk, unzipped his pants and fished his cock out. "Good," she said softly as she began to yank his dick roughly.
"Don't pull the damned thing off," he muttered as he shucked off his coat and began to loosen his tie.
"Don't bother," she said. "You won't be here that long." She went to her knees, popped the head of his cock in her mouth and began to suck rigorously. His cock jutted out from his groin, the head broad and swollen, the shaft rapidly becoming solid. She turned away from him abruptly and got on her hands and knees. "Your cock is hard enough. Fuck me."
"Just like that," he said. He got on his knees behind her and flipped her dress up.
"Just like that," she replied. "You came here to fuck me, so get it done or get out. Push your pants down so the zipper doesn't tear up my pussy."
She looked back over her shoulder as he opened his belt and let his pants fall around his knees. His cock sprang up, fully erect, and bumped her bare ass cheeks.
He reached between her legs and stroked the tender pink lips of her pussy. She was sopping wet, inside and out, and on fire. She shivered and moaned when the tip of his finger brushed her clit. He extended his middle finger and stuck it up her cunt. Her slick channel felt like a bottle of warm oil. He pushed his finger in deep and wiggled the tip.
"I don't want a finger!" Sylvia hissed. "Give me your cock!" She spread her legs further apart and shook her luscious, rounded ass at him, and spread them. "Come on. Fuck me."
"My pleasure," he murmured.
Her bawdy words were the carnal catalyst he needed. He gripped his swollen dick with one hand and rubbed the blood-gorged head along the satiny crack of her ass and into her hairy seam. He stared at the pinkish brown lips peeking out lewdly as the broad head of his prick entered her love chamber.
She rocked back, pushing her hot, tight sheath onto his dick. He grabbed her lush hips and snapped his hips forward. She moaned as he penetrated her. He thrust again and buried his cock completely, filling her to the brim.
"God, you're big!" she whispered.
"Oh, baby!" he gasped. "You're so tight! So hot and juicy. A real hot bitch!"
She shoved her ass back, silently telling him to fuck her. He pulled back slowly, watching her pussy lips cling to his cock as it emerged from her hole. He held the knobby head of his dick just inside her sheath, savoring the feel of her pussy.
Sylvia wriggled her hips again. "Come on, dammit! Don't tease me. Fuck me!"
He gripped her hips and held her ass steady as he thrust deep into her pussy. He shoved his long prong in until his pubic hair touched the cheeks of her ass.
"Yeah, that's the way," she murmured encouragingly. "Fuck me hard! Really pound my cunt!"
He reached under her and fondled her full, dangling tits as he began to fuck her hard. His thrusts were deep and hard and often, rocking her back and forth under the fast pace of his hard-driving dick.
Her face glowed with pleasure. Getting fucked when she least expected it was really wild. She liked rear entry. The head of his cock rubbing her G spot felt wonderful. Each time he thrust into her, she got hotter and wetter. His thick, rampaging prick filled her chock full. Juice oozed from her hot crack and dribbled down the inside of her thighs.
He hammered her tight sheath with the diligence of a machine-a power-packed fucking machine. A deep flush covered his face. His chest heaved with exertion. A churning knot in his belly warned him that he was close to dumping his load into this stranger's lovely snatch. Releasing her tits, he slid his hands down to her crotch, thrust two fingers between her cunt lips, and began to agitate her love button.
"Dear God, that's wonderful!" she moaned. "You really know how to fuck!"
He began to thrust faster as he massaged her erect clit with a furious motion. Her tits bobbed and swayed in time with his thrusts. She began to pant. Her lovely face burned with ecstasy.
His balls began to swell. His gut twisted in knots. With one last mighty heave, he slammed into her cunt as hard as he could go and held his groin tight against her ass. His cock erupted, pouring hot fuck cream deep into her cuntal canal, covering her sleek pink membranes with his milky essence.
Sylvia grunted from the force of his hard thrust and finished her own climb up the golden stairs. She shoved her ass back and screwed her hips around as her orgasm began, eager for every drop of love juice he could blast into her.
They quivered and jerked and writhed against each other until he was drained and her orgasm subsided. She sighed deeply and stretched out on her stomach. His dick slid out of her pussy and hung limp and red, well-oiled with semen and her secretions.
"What a fantastic fuck!" he croaked.
"You can let yourself out, Sergeant."
"My name is Mark," he said.
"I know your name, Sergeant. Good-bye."
He got to his feet and arranged his clothes. He put on his coat as he headed for the door.
"Sergeant," she called.
He stopped and turned around to look at her. "Yes, ma'am?"
"I won't fuck you in my home again. Call me. I'll meet you. In one of those tawdry little motels, with a big water bed and mirrors all over the place. I like to watch myself when I fuck."
"Yes, ma'am." He started walking again.
"And Sergeant, I don't want to hear about your job or your wife and kids, or what you did on your summer vacation. I won't be your confidant or mother confessor or paramour. I have no intention of getting personally involved with you."
"Isn't fucking kind of personal?"
"No. I'm a first class piece of ass, and you're a big cock. If you can handle that, we'll fuck until we get tired of each other."
"I can handle that," he said.
Newkirk met his partner back at the station house that afternoon. "Turn up anything?" he asked Dillon.
"Not much. A couple of guys kind of admitted they had a some girls in their house a day or so before they were robbed. Vague descriptions, different names. The others weren't talking. None of them wanted to pursue the matter. I don't think any of them would testify even if we did catch the burglar."
"Same here," Newkirk said. "Looks like we've hit a dead end," Dillon said.
"The robberies have a pattern. They take place in the same neighborhood, girls visit shortly before they occur, and the men are all married. And none of them seem to care if we catch the burglar. I'm convinced the girls have something to do with it. I just don't know what. We'll keep digging. Something will turn up."
"What are we going to do when we get one where girls didn't visit beforehand?" Dillon asked.
Newkirk grinned. "Regroup and start over, I guess. But I've got a hunch that won't happen."
"You and your hunches," Dillon said.