Chapter 1
We stood behind the batter's cage, ogling our man up at bat. He tossed us a wink before assuming position. I got a look at his muscled buns and felt a twinge of lust. Dennis Austin had joined our precinct early in the year and proved to be an stimulating addition. We tended to enjoy the injection of new male talent-particularly since we were bound by a vow of "monogamy." Although other men might have been eye-catching, we were prohibited as "Police Babes" to sexually indulge ourselves outside our intimate circle. Cops were the centerpiece of our lives; they provided us with food, shelter and luxury; we, on the other hand, furnished them all the sex they wished. It was a reciprocal agreement. We were there to cool them off after a nerve-wracking stakeout, or a life-threatening mission. We gave them pleasure after they were out of danger, and made them forget the hazardous occupation of their careers.
As their girlfriends, we were directed to shun the magnetism of other men. Engaging in deception was not only discouraged, it resulted in disbandment. Nobody in our exclusive club dared to test that rule.
Although we were each assigned our own man, exchanging partners within the group was both acceptable and commonplace. Swapping companions, or even pairing off into small groups, was routine. None of us minded the interchange-it provided an element of surprise. Some combinations were more successful than others-depending on the temperament and creative resourcefulness of those involved.
The pitcher threw a fast ball, causing a delighted uproar from our little assembly. We received a snarl after whooping it up. Claudia, Dennis' mainstay, grabbed the chain link fence and bounced rapidly until her big tits heaved from one side of her tight T-shirt to the other. Luscious Claudia, a new recruit, with her dark shoulder-length hair, became my gal pal almost immediately upon joining us. She had just begun dating Dennis at the time he enlisted in the police force, so her membership to the Babes was a natural transition. I quickly spotted Claudia's appetite for pleasure during our first acquaintance. Her steamy glances, her lingering touch and her exotic tastes supported that assumption.
As the senior person of our bunch, I was famous for identifying sensual qualities in people. I'd surprised the girls time and again, relating to them my esoteric impressions. My calling for distinguishing people's erotic tendencies earned me quite a reputation. If we were at a social gathering and I observed a girl of average attraction, I could mentally dissolve her layers of camouflage and unveil the wildly seductive creature she was. If the action at the party shifted in that direction, proof of her inclinations was generally established.
When Dennis came around, I instinctively knew he was a sexual powerhouse. That tall, strapping body had the capacity for untold excitement. A single glance and that evaluation took root. His fiercely masculine features, embossed by a pencil mustache and framed by dark blond hair, were contributing factors, but his underlying lustiness was most telling from the heft of his cock. Even the navy blue pants of his uniform failed to hide the significant bulge of his equipment. How he managed to pack that thrill-giving apparatus inside his pair of athletic shorts posed another question. I expected his dick to slip out of his protective cup and protrude.
"Isn't he cute, Melissa?" Claudia enthused, sidling up next to me.
Smiling, I nodded. Dennis had a spectacular profile from the rear. Those broad shoulders tapered to a trim waist, muscled buttocks and sinew-rich thighs. We visually followed the jutting biceps down to his powerful forearms, then finally to the enormous hands that gripped the bat. He was the very picture of virility. "I hear you two had yourselves quite a party last night."
Claudia's beautiful face went dreamy. "Mmmmm. Did we ever. Six hours of nonstop fucking. Whew! Dennis wouldn't quit-no matter what I did. Believe me, I save some of my best tricks for him, and none of them worked. He gets like a rock."
I gazed at Dennis and thought about doing a marathon with him. Claudia wouldn't mind; she'd gladly take Joe off my hands. Joe was my "regular." Believe me, he was no slouch: tall, dark-haired, olive-skinned with wire-rimmed glasses and movie star handsome. Few people bought him as a cop-he looked more like a prom date, even at age thirty-two. Joe also happened to be well-hung. The sheets rarely got cool when he was around; Joe was highly sexed and proud of it.
Joe wouldn't have minded fucking Claudia; as a matter-of-fact, he had.
The next two pitches did not bode well for Dennis. The ball whistled past him, straight over the base, signaling the end of his turn.
"You're out!" barked the umpire.
"That wasn't a strike!" Dennis argued.
The umpire pointed to the dug-out. "Grab some bench, pal."
"Hey, come on, let's play ball," called Pete from first base, who patiently waited for an opportunity to at least make second.
Dennis angrily hurled the bat off to the side and stomped off, unhappy with the call. For a man of thirty-five, he didn't tolerate rejection. Bearing an ugly snarl, he kicked up some clouds of dust while making his exit.
"It's just like him to get pissed off," Buffy snipped from behind. Buffy-a blonde, big-breasted, mouth-watering prima donna to whom my sentiments constantly fluctuated-was renowned for her bitchy comments. "What a baby."
"Blow it out your ass, honey," Claudia chimed, without emotion.
Buffy pouted, then fell silent.
Claudia went to lend comfort to her man. From the slant of her features, erotic therapy wasn't ruled out.
On the heels of Dennis' departure, Joe stepped up to the plate eagerly looking for a challenge. His manly stride and cocky smirk captured my immediate attention. Not a single drop of sweat marred his tanned complexion; Joe was cool as the proverbial cucumber. He was built for a woman with a natural hunger for sex. The sturdy definition of his upper torso stretched his T-shirt to the limit. The ripple of muscle in both arm and leg caused my pulse to skip a beat. Desire swam through me in strong, persistent waves.
I pushed my big tits to the chain link fence, then raised my designer sunglasses to reveal my wink. "If you get a hit, I'll make it worth your while."
"Done," he declared, firmly gripping the bat. His initial swing was flawlessly executed, forecasting the minimum of a double play. He smacked the ground, whipping up a few clouds of dust, then assumed the batter's stance.
My pussy oozed with moisture. Whether he hit a single or struck out, I wanted to fuck his brains out. The notion of taking him behind the bushes and releasing my large, mouth-filling tits from confinement entered my mind. I could practically feel that mouth enclose my hard-pebbled nipples, followed by an invigorating slurp of his expert tongue.
I had chosen just the outfit to bring those breathtaking thoughts to fruition. Clad in a button-down blouse, I intentionally left the top three undone. My cleavage was an appetizing package of billowy excess, swelling to the delight of onlookers. The shorts I wore were cut high, displaying my fashionably slim thighs to advantage. A pair of high-heeled sandals completed an irresistible portrait. I had to admit, measuring the reactions I received, I was in peak condition. Joe liked it when I dressed "hot." Just about everything I wore reinforced my sexy image. I didn't have to act the part-sex exuded from my pores. Largely a sensual creature, visual entertainment for the hormones, I attracted more attention by entering a room than most women, and rightfully so. I worked diligently on that aspect of my character, perfecting a style men enjoyed. I studied men's behavior to cultivate the desired reaction. If they wanted bold and brassy, I could give that; if they preferred soft and sexy, I would do that, too. I could adopt just about any manner to effectively serve the men. In my experience, nothing was too daring, too outrageous to bring into startling formation.
Joe awaited the first pitch; when it came, he was prepared. I saw the enlargement of his biceps, chased by the sturdy arc of his bat. The impact reverberated throughout the field. We all watched the ball climb higher and higher, soaring through the air, beyond the other team's reach.
"Yes!" declared Pete, running the bases, looking unstoppable.
Joe began to scurry, too, though it was with tremendous confidence. The ball had evaded our opponent's grasp, paving the way for a home run. I watched with a moist pussy as Joe's limber body traveled from one base to the next, keeping an eye on the contenders. The fumbling and error in handling the ball accounted for his sweep to victory. Joe moved with athletic grace, pumping his brawny arms and thighs to the delight of the Babes.
I knew, when the game was over, I wanted to fuck him.
Dennis scowled at Joe's achievement. I'm sure envy passed through his mind. It was an anticipated response, in light of the hoots and cries that went up as he made his approach to home plate.
Claudia installed herself behind him, brushing the base of his neck with her lips while massaging his shoulders. Her consolement did not appear to have a positive effect; Dennis was much too disgusted with his performance to convert his soured emotions.
As Joe landed successfully on home, we surrounded him in a congratulatory cheer. I, of course, opened my arms and flew at him. My tits were squashed to his chest by design. Mmmmm. I luxuriated in his manly cradle.
"Great play, Joe," acknowledged Kevin with a high-five. "That puts us in the lead."
"Anybody need a beer?" asked Pete, fetching one from the cooler. He couldn't open it fast enough, downing a healthy gulp then reflecting bliss. "There's nothing like it."
"Sure, there is," winked his girl, Nina, a prime example of "Police Babe" gusto. "Think about it." She elevated her twin globes of tantalization for the enlightenment of all. Dark, flashing eyes and full, serviceable lips were Nina's most striking attributes. Undoubtedly fetching, she was a tall and lithe brunette that spawned lustful thoughts. Her quick wit was most appreciated to break the ice when a tense moment developed.
"How could I forget," he chuckled, visibly loving the way she slid up against him. He brushed her lips with his, then automatically delved for her nape.
Nina emitted an ardent mewl. "Mmmmmmm. Keep that up and I won't wait until the game's over."
Pete's hand cupped that choice ass and dragged her a little closer. "There's always the bushes."
Buffy anchored her hands on her hips. "Why don't the two of you get it out of your systems so we can keep our lead."
Nina kissed her middle finger, then held it defiantly for Buffy. "Special delivery."
"Translation, please?" Buffy sniffed, feigning ignorance.
"I can give you a quick lesson in the bushes, too," Nina murmured, cuddling against Pete.
"I could use a little of that." Joe's whisper sent a flurry of stimulation through me. His hand swept down my back, then encompassed my ass. "How about some warm fuzzies in my back seat."
"That's it!" Buffy fumed, prior to stomping off. "We're going to blow this game because you bitches can't keep your legs closed."
I could see the evolution of Buffy's mood from vexation to complete hysteria. I backed away from Joe. "I better go find out what her problem is."
Joe smirked. "I may not understand the basis for it, but I know what the cure is-and she'll have to wait until there's an available player that can lend his services." He gave a suggestive swagger to embellish his comment.
"You could be right," I said before meeting with her. I knew if I was in such a temperament, a good fuck would surely have set me right.
Buffy moved off to a distant point of the field to observe the game alone. The set of her luscious features gave the opinion that she was deeply troubled over something. I could understand why Dennis had behaved the way he did, with the pressure of the trial, but Buffy's behavior baffled me. I placed my hand on her shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze. Buffy, characteristically, recoiled from my grasp.
"I don't feel like receiving a lecture," she warned.
"That wasn't my intention." I lowered my voice several octaves. "Is everything okay between you and Steve?"
"Of course. Why shouldn't it be?"
I scanned the men gathered at the side and observed Steve's negligence of Buffy; her isolation didn't seem to disquiet him. "The two of you haven't exchange a single word since the start of the game."
"Don't concern yourself with that," she insisted. "He's feeling the weight of the trial, just as much as Dennis."
Her explanation didn't fulfill my curiosity. Normally, Steve's hands were constantly on Buffy. Her lush, sexy body generated total excitement. I even found her sexy, but tired of her pivotal swings. "Joe hasn't acted the same, nor has Pete. Steve doesn't strike me as the kind of man that buckles under pressure." I reached for her shoulder again, determined to supply comfort. "Today is important to the men. They need this kind of amusement to alleviate the stress. Don't contribute toward it."
Buffy turned to me with swollen eyes. I couldn't remember her ever being this shaken. "I guess I'm scared. There have been threats."
I fought to remain steady. "Threats?"
"Steve received a mysterious note the other day, warning him not to go on the witness stand." She bit her lip. "I wasn't suppose to tell anyone. Steve will be angry with me if you repeat that."
It was difficult to be anything but nonplused. Ever since the start of the trial, in which the men were compelled to testify against a racketeering organization, we'd all been emotionally under fire. The number of bribes in circulation prohibited a select group of policemen from disclosing its existence. Our men were brave enough to send it into bankruptcy by exposing its corrupt operation; a few of them, such as Dennis and Steve, were steeply involved in the case. The trial, currently underway, approached its most illuminating stage on Monday; the weekend, therefore, was the Babes responsibility to assume their "pressure valve" roles. We were committed to our men and their happiness.
"Please," Buffy whispered, "don't breathe a word of this. Steve is much more worried than he's showing. He's uncertain whether the threats have actual meaning."
"Why doesn't he bring the note to the court's attention?"
Buffy adamantly shook her head. "It was written by one of the other policemen. He doesn't dare implicate him."
I forced a smile. "Enough of this. Let's go back and pump some cheer into our faces. The men need us more than ever for emotional support."
Buffy conceded. "I suppose you're right."
I purposely arranged a barbecue at my place after the game to cap an otherwise stellar day. The men, with the exception of Dennis, had set aside their anxieties over the trial and permitted us to relieve them of that mental burden in the way we knew best. Hot sex was definitely in order. After nourishing them, we would take the evening to titillating heights.
We wrapped on a victorious note, maintaining our lead and vanquishing the other team's bid at upholding their undefeated status. Dennis managed to recapture his old spirit and participated in the celebration (although his later hit to second base was of vital import in restoring his optimism).
I was glad to see the game reach its conclusion. Joe had instigated a disturbance between my legs that required his individual attention. My brain was saturated with pictures of those flexing muscles, the heft of his cock and most of all, his "let's-go-somewhere-and-fuck grin. Fortunately, we all arrived at the field in different cars, thereby affording us the opportunity to spend a few minutes alone.
I slid right next to him, aligning my undraped thigh to press against his leg. The prickle of his manly textures sent my erotic impulses soaring. My tit nudged his ballooned biceps, providing a delicious shiver. "You were incredible out there," I murmured, nuzzling him.
Joe appreciated my intimate response. His firm and receptive posturing sent electrical currents through me. "It was nice to have your backing."
"You have more than that," I mused, trailing my feathery caress across those well-defined pectorals. The need to indulge myself propelled my hand lower. His cock took shape beneath those athletic shorts, commanding my study. Its gradual tautness had me panting.
"You haven't forgotten your promise?" he asked, huskily.
"About my making it worth your while if you got a base hit?"
He nodded. "And since it turned out to be a home run, I thought I might receive something really special."
"Without a doubt." I descended upon him, unable to suspend my hunger a second longer. The others had already driven away. It didn't matter that we would arrive home well after they'd gotten there; satisfying Joe was of superior weight.
My thick red hair tumbled over his lap as I dropped my face to the source of his urgency. The mouth-watering outline of his cock accelerated my pulse. Joe was huge, a sight for sex-starved eyes, protruding heavily at my inspection. Enthusiastically, I massaged that magnificent outgrowth with my cheeks and nose. Mmmmmm. I detected an impatient throb. I caught that significant roll with my lips, passionately expanding its width. He strained against the material.
Joe moaned as I administered these inflammatory strokes. I hadn't even gotten his dick out and he was charged with enthusiasm. He cupped my head, drawing me closer to his rigid shaft. In a flight of madness, he smashed himself to my face, then jerked. His hard-on pulsated with fury. He could barely contain the gravity of his desire.
"Take it out, baby," he muttered from above. "I need some mouth."
His tone set my heart into a staunch beat. His want was plain. I did not wish to prolong Joe's torment, in light of that sizable mass projecting from his shorts. Gratifying him was my job.
I gingerly unhooked the elastic waistband, taking precious care in moving over that healthy erection. It didn't take much for Joe to reach full extension. The moment I glimpsed that plump cockhead, I smacked my lips. I could barely wait to enclose it and suck that initial drop of cum which seeped from the tip. Rather than circling that bloated crown, I rolled out my tongue and dabbed the rim. Joe's unique taste flavored my palate.
"Oh, yeah," he grunted in a sharp intake, his chin high. "Yeah. Make it juicy."
I licked the underside of his cock, introducing more to my moist curl as his shorts were lowered. I enveloped the bulbous head, then sucked in feverish increments until hot saliva streamed down his enormous length. I covered him with my suctioning lips, molding them to that delectable shaft. I quickly worked him into a swelter, swallowing that hard dick.
"Eat it," he urged, thrusting himself into my eager mouth. He shifted his hips, guiding his cock to a warmer, wetter climate. His vise-like grip excited me. The pressure of his fingertips demonstrated blazing necessity. When I orally squeezed him with all I could, he gasped for air. "More. Suck me. Ahhhhhhhhh. Feels so good."
When I sank to the thick stem of his cock and brushed his balls with my lips, I thought Joe was going to shoot. He quivered in his seat, his breathing labored, then resumed his uniform vibrations. I snapped up all the dick I could, effecting a slick stroke. Its spittle-coated skin glistened in the afternoon light. My loud, stirring sucks were muffled when my mouth closed upon him, sealing his cock in saliva-rich heaven. I made sure to create noise as I slobbered him; the sound of a hungry pair of lips on his dick escalated his pleasure.
After subjecting his cock to a fierce sucking, I detached my moist lips and went for his balls. Joe loved getting them licked-perhaps just as greatly as I enjoyed gliding over them with my tongue. I lashed that part of him, swirling through the stray pubes until his skin shimmered with bubbly spit. Mmmmmmm. Joe had a manly taste.
"Jesus," he muttered, at the fringe. "Oh, baby. Ahhhhhh. Don't stop."
I spent several minutes lavishing him with drool before returning to that rounded helmet. His eyes glazed over behind his horn-rimmed glasses as he dipped into my mouth. I obliged him with a volley of steamy licks, running my tongue circuitously along the hefty rim. I toyed with the peak of his large vein, then abundantly sloshed him with spit. His cock emerged as bubble-rich, only to have me pop each and all with another slice of my hot and ready tongue. I seized that woman-pleaser with my vibrant lips and ran them up and down its stretch, drawing it deep in my throat. When I ascended to the rotund head, Joe was gasping for air. His chin went high and he emitted low-pitched, guttural sounds. The noises I registered were far more elaborate, venting my hunger.
Men tend to favor the loud puckers, the noisy mouthing, and the oozing slippage of spit when they get their cocks sucked. In my experience, I've seen them winded by the transformation of a classy woman to a panting nympho. They approve of the idea that a female would shed her refinement and subscribe to vulgar measures while satisfying them. I've never held back with a dick in my mouth: I gobbled it vocally, soaking every inch in a pool of hot saliva. My lips and tongue put their personal stamp, squeezing and delighting in the occupation of a whole cock. Quiet and neatness simply wouldn't do; men like loud and sloppy and anxious-at least the men to whom I'd become intimately acquainted.
I snapped up all the cock my mouth could hold, then swallowed it. Mmmmmmm. Joe was going out of his mind as I absorbed him. I could not get enough of that virile spice. I helped myself to large mouthfuls. Having well-lubricated his dick, it eased its way over my tongue and sank into my warm cavern.
Joe shifted in his seat. "Oh, baby, you're going to make me cum."
I sucked that much harder, willing him to do so. I longed for the creamy splash of cum. I massaged his balls with one hand while sprinting up and down that monster in an oral vise.
My pussy had gotten juicy while I blew him, but I didn't once consider that on his cock. Though Joe would have welcomed the opportunity to receive my wet cunt, I wanted to finish with his orgasm in my mouth. Often we began sex on an oral note, then went on to some hot face to face fucking; I wanted no mistake that this session was totally Joe's, devoted to his satisfaction. I would bring him to climax with the use of my tongue and the stroke of my lips, and not by the grip of my pussy.
"Mmmmmmm," I murmured, subjecting him to the affection of my mouth. I worked my way down to his thick base, then gradually climbed to the bulbous tip. Rivulets of drool coursed from my attached lips, drifting slowly to his balls. I let it collect, then reclaimed it in a heated sweep.
"Mmmmmm."
"Jesus," Joe gasped, bucking and fighting to maintain his coherence. I made the effort increasingly difficult, sucking him to ecstasy. "Oh, Melissa. Oh, baby-"
I didn't stop for a moment, adding value to his pleasure. The flow of stimulation was constant, plentiful. Joe was about to go over the edge, and I did everything in my power to make that happen. I drew on him as fiercely as I could, waiting for those dense squirts to fill my mouth.
My head bobbed frantically as I consumed Joe. I detected his distant tremors, then summoned them with my limber tongue. They made their progressive arrival, suck after suck. Joe rapidly lost control; he grabbed my head and face-fucked me.
"Baby," he muttered deliriously, "that feels so fucking good. Keep going. Do me good. Suck that dick. Yeah. Oh, baby. Keep your mouth on it. I'm going to give you a whole lot of excitement to swallow."
I stayed on that cock, supplying him a willing receptacle for the load that churned in his balls. I was prepared to drain him. My hot, slippery lips sent a feverish message to his body, urging it to follow through.
Joe's shaking increased until his hoarse cry sounded and the peak of gratification had been achieved. "Oh, baby. Baby-arrrgggghhhhh!
Uggghhhhhh! Uggghhh! Uggghhhhh!"
Joe exploded. Concentrated jism spewed into my mouth. I let it gather on my tongue until it was inundated, then gulped it down. Joe replenished that amount many times over, shuddering with joy. Clamping my lips securely to his dick, I nursed a suck that ensured swift extraction. I wanted every drop of his milky goo.
"Mmmmm," I purred, downing the tasty flow. I caressed his balls, treating them tenderly. My touch carried electricity and caused him to jerk in his seat. I exercised a calming rub while slurping the remnant seepage that oozed from his cumhole.
Joe's harsh breathing slowly subsided. The lenses of his glasses were fogged, partially hiding his eyes from me. He took a while before regaining his focus. His jaw was slack, yet the underlying contentment in his expression was present. "Whew! That was definitely a show-stopper."
I released his cock from my embrace. There wasn't a trace of cum to be found-only the casing of my spit. "I hope that hasn't finished you for the night."
He grinned. "Not a chance, baby."
I gave him a light squeeze. Joe retained most of his erection. I gazed hungrily at it, barely repressing the urge to sit on him. Having him fill my cunt was ecstasy, but a houseful of guests had to be attended.
It would be interesting to see what developed when we arrived. The Police Babes were known for their sense of fun.