YPA: Your Privacy Assured/YPA.ISO/text/brkndrum.txt

Text File | 1994-06-04 | 74KB | 1,731 lines

THE BROKEN DRUM by HAGAR Poppa Dux, FAO Friend
*****************************************************************************
I'd been watching the wind driven rain smear the plate glass
windows, as I used my pen to chase the ice cubes around in my
glass of DeWars, as I thought about the case I'd caught.  Another
ugly case.  Real ugly.  For some reason I never got any 'nice' or
straight forward murders.  The ones I caught were usually messy.
Like this one.  Another woman's nude body stuffed into a duffel
bag in a car trunk parked in the long-term lot at the airport.

I'd been mulling over the physical evidence we had... and it
wasn't much.

My attention had shifted to the booze as it made oily swirls
through the smoky amber, just like it always did.  I'd heard the
tap of high-heels, and unconsciously glanced up and smiled as
Janine carried a tray of fresh drinks to the table in the corner.
Somehow, she always drew my attention.  It was her long tapered
legs I suppose, or maybe the way she filled out her blouse.

I'd been stopping in to have a drink a few times a week ever
since I moved into the neighborhood.  A nice enough place, but
nothing special.  I suppose it was a combination of their chili
and Janine's muscular calves that kept me coming back.  It's
unbelievable when you think how fast a year can pass.  One day
blending into the next, on and on.  'Maybe your booze consumption
has something to do with the way the days run together,' I
thought, as I sipped my drink.

I was always coming up with brilliant ideas like that.  "Stop
smoking.  Stop drinking.  Start exercising.  Win the Lottery.
Write a book about some interesting case and make a million."  I
was a real fountain of great ideas.

So far tonight, Janine had been to my table twice.  The first
time to deliver a glass of my usual, and the second when I waved
her over to pay the check.  Both times we played eye games, and
flirted, like always.

I'd gathered up my raincoat, from the empty chair across the
table, where I'd tossed it in a sodden heap.  I said my goodbyes
and gave Janine a wink, .  I was in the process of shrugging on
the soggy coat, and trying to open the front door at the same
time, when it crashed open....  And everything changed.

Like I said, I was leaning forward, shrugging on my beat-up
London Fog, so the door smashed into my forehead, and I fell flat
on my ass.  I knew what had happened, so I looked up to see what
kind of ill-mannered son-of-a-bitch had whacked my melon.  Little
did I know...

From my vantage point on the floor, my eyes flicked up and saw
what looked like a full acre of firm, tapered, nylon encased
inner thigh that went up and up until it disappeared in the
darkness under a short navy blue skirt.

"I'm so sorry," were the first words she said, as I scrambled to
my feet.

"Forget it," I growled, as the adrenalin rush started to pass,
and a whole different set of hormones kicked in.  I brushed
myself off, with a little help from the lady, and mumbled
something about getting another drink.

"Oh, let me buy," she said.  "It's all my fault!"

"Okay, okay," I grumbled.  "That was my table over there," I
added pointing.

She set out walking toward our objective, and I followed.  About
this time it struck me that this lady didn't walk.  She
"moved"...  What I had taken for a navy blue skit was really the
bottom half of a knit dress that hugged her body like the skin
fits a grape.  And the skirt wasn't a typical knit.  It was split
up the side, nearly to the hip.

I suppose my mouth dropped open, because when I checked out the
guys at the bar, that's what had happened to them...  We all
looked like frogs catching flies.

My attention quickly shifted back to the lady's back, or rather
her backside that shifted alluringly with every step.  Her skirt
ended above mid-thigh, and her trim ankles, sculptured calves,
and trim tapered thighs flashed, as the split displayed nearly
their full length, in the subdued lighting, as that tight knit
bun-hugging, ass-emphasizing skirt showcased her tight, rounded,
undulating butt; that moved like two well-oiled footballs.

She turned, as she reached 'my table', pointed at a chair, and
raised her eyebrow, asking if her choice of a seat was
acceptable.  I nodded.  She sat, as I approached, and crossed her
long thoroughbred legs, as her skirt rode even higher on her
thighs.

I sat, and I guess I stared, because she asked if I was all
right.

All right was hardly the term to describe my condition.  If you
placed your emphasis on HARD, it would been much more accurate.

I waved to Janine, who by now was glaring daggers at me, and as
she made her way to 'our table', I asked my companion what she
would like.

"Black Jack...  And have her bring the bottle."

As we waited for a now surly Janine to return with our drinks, I
introduced myself...  "By the way, I'm Eric... Eric Thornquist."
I always was real smooth with the ladies.

"Nice to bump into you, Eric," she laughed.  "I'm Candice."

"I'd enjoy bumping into you too, Candice...  repeatedly, but next
time I'd use something other than my head."

She laughed, at my attempt at humor.  Little did she know how
honest I was being.  Shit, I'd been checking her out, during our
stroll to the table (which I thoroughly enjoyed), and again as
we faced each other across the expanse of 'our' heavy oak table.

She was about 5'-7" and probably weighed 125-130 soaking wet.
(Was that a Freudian slip?).  Her hair was long and blonde,
falling in soft waves until it ended, below her shoulders.  Her
complexion was flawless, and her lips were full and friendly.
The top of the dress accentuated the rich fullness of her
breasts, and maybe it was the chill, but just saw a hint of her
nipples, when the light was just right. And her face was as
perfect as the rest.  Open, and honest, with sparkling green eyes,
there wasn't even a hint of pinched meanness.  Maybe my luck was
finally changing.

"So, Mr. Eric Thornquist.  What are you doing here tonight?" she
queried.

"Just stopped for a drop of the usual," I answered.  "And you?"

"I saw this place written up in the Arts and Entertainment
Section a while ago, and thought I'd give it a try.  I thought it
had a cute name..."

"You mean, The Broken Drum?"

"Yes, but that's not the cute part.  The cute part is the
rest..'You Can't Beat it'.  That's what the article said too.
That you couldn't beat their steaks."

"They are pretty good," I answered lamely, and then plunged on,
with what I thought was a suave segue.  "But, by yourself?  What
about your significant other?"
"He's working late.  He's always either working late or out of
town," she flared, scrunching her eyebrows together.  "Besides,
I'm better company to myself than he's been lately."

"Sorry....  I was just making conversation," I back-pedaled.  As I
tried to extricate myself from the mess I was making of 'small-
talk', I glanced down, and was immediately captured by the
promise of her entire leg, exposed as it was by the split skirt.

"See something you like, Eric?"

"No!  I mean yes!  I mean, your slip is showing."  See what I
mean. I'm a real conversational giant.

Our eyes locked, and she very deliberately blinked.  Twice.  "I
don't know how that's possible.  I'm not wearing one."

I unbuttoned my coat and leaned forward, ready to respond with
something profound, when I saw her eyes widen with surprise.
"Eric, I see the butt of your gun!" she gasped.

"That's only fair, I was watching yours earlier."

"Ahhh, but you see," she smirked, "I have a much nicer butt than
you."

"I know....  It's fantastic.  A man could spend a week exploring
it," I said with a soft laugh, lifting both hands in mock
surrender.  "But you win.  I don't want to butt heads with you.
Besides, my head is already sore."

"I really am sorry about that, Eric.  But, if it hadn't happened
we wouldn't be sitting here now."  There was a brief pause, and
then she continued, "Tell me what a nice cop like you was doing
in here all by himself."

"We're not going to talk about butts are we?" (Thrust)

Something happened back behind her eyes.  Her pink tongue
deliberately traced their way over her firm full lips, and she
said, "We can talk about butts if you want to."

It was like she was reading my mind.  There was nothing I'd
rather than talk about than her butt.

"Did you know," I stammered, "you are one of the rarest of
women?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"  I could tell she wasn't at all
sure where the conversation was headed (or should I say 'butted'
since that WAS the subject of the moment).  "You mean that it's
unusual for a woman to be in here alone?  At your table?"

"Relax....  That's not what I meant at all.  What I meant was
since we were talking about butts...   I'm a connoisseur of the
female posterior, and yours is spectacular."

"Thank you, I guess...  It is the only one I've got."

"Ohhh, you've got it all right.  Do you know how rare it is to
see one like yours?  I mean a true heart-shaped ass!"

"Heart-shaped?"

"Sure...  The way it swells out at your hips, and then tucks in
tight at the ...  I mean the way it's shaped.  Like a heart.
I'll bet you're the first I've ever seen in person."

Listen, buster.  An ass is an ass."

"True, but all asses are not created equal," I quipped.

"But they all serve the same purpose," she grinned, "but, as a
connoisseur I'm sure you can explain the difference."

"The difference is in style.  To use your analogy a '52 Chevy and
a Porche 924 serve the same purpose.  The difference is in the
lines and the form... And if you'll pardon the expression, how
much fun they are to drive."  I tried to maintain a straight
face, as she chuckled.  Then I continued, "The same can be set
for asses, or butts if you prefer.  Walk down any street and
observe the female posteriors.  Some are so wide they're measured
in ax-handles, some have sagging buns, some jiggle like bowls of
Jell-O, and some women suffer from that dread malady 'no-ass-a-
tall'.

I looked over, and her eyes were dancing as I picked up speed.
"On the other hand, some are slim and tight, nicely rounded, or
have fantastic definition.  It's all in the eye of the beholder."

"Okay, Mr. Expert.  What about mine?"

"Like I said, yours is that one-in-a-million, breathtaking, moan-
causing, erection arousing, perfectly proportioned, example of
feminine perfection; a heart-shaped butt.  It's a pleasure to
follow you anytime, anywhere."

"Down, boy!  I think I should throw a bucket of cold water on
you," she said with a shake of her head.

"Right now I don't think it would help."

"So, I take it you liked what you beheld...?"

"I'd like to hold what I beheld." (Damn, I'm into this repartee)

"Keep me laughing, Big Boy...  You just might get your wish," she
chuckled in reply to my amazing wit, as she reached over and
squeezed my hand.

During this whole con-fab she'd been putting away the Black Jack,
neat.  Pop... Pop... Pop... One after another.  Not non-stop, but
steady.

I was still working in my first one (at this sitting), so I knew
I was okay.  I took a careful look and she wasn't showing any
effect, YET.  But since she was flesh and blood it would only be
a matter of time.

I reached for her wrist, and held it on the table.  "Candice,
you've been hitting that awfully hard.  How about something to
eat?"

"Why not?" she answered.  "I want a steak, a baked potato and
a salad.  Will you order while I run to the 'tur-let'?"

"Sure," I answered.  "How do you want your steak, and what kinda
dressing?"

By now she was on her feet, and I was again treated to an eyeful
of the whole enchilada.  "Rare, and blue cheese," she answered.
Her legs were spread, and the one closest to me stuck all that
out of that spit skirt again.

I'm sure she felt my eyes, as the traveled all the way up.  From
the tip of the thin black spike-heels, over her thin, fine boned
ankle, across her trim calf, around her slim knee, up that finely
muscled tapered thigh, grazing her tight belly, lingering at her
firm swelling breasts.   Oh, yeah....  Quite a package.

She turned and winked at me, over her shoulder as she angled to
the 'tur-let'.  God Damn!  She moved like she had ball-bearings in
her hips, and in that tight knit each one of her firm, tight,
independently-suspended buns expanded and contracted, and raised
and lowered, moved forward and backward.... called to me in the
oldest language know to man.

I waved to Janine, and tried to place our order.  Janine was
being difficult, so I hoped we wouldn't get chili.  Women!  I'd
asked Janine out twice, and she'd refused times.  Now, here I am
with a 'live one' and she's acting jealous.  Candice was only
gone a few minutes.  But by the time she started back to the
table out order was place, and I got to lean back and enjoy her
bod, as she walked toward me for a change.

She knew I'd be watching for her, and the way she stopped just
outside the lady's room door.  She posed in that spraddle-legged,
hip-shot stance, that was as subtle as a train wreck.  But
complain?  Not me!!!

Candice started back across the wide-planked wooden floor, each
step performed almost like a samba.  Her legs made a swish as
their nylon coverings softly touched the knit skirt, and her
pelvis rocked, side-to-side, tugging one side of that tight
skirt, and then the other.  The knit emphasized the motion of her
thighs as they moved, the fabric highlighting her mons, where it
gathered quietly.

Glancing higher, her breasts moved, gently bouncing and swaying,
seemingly unrestrained. Their motion seemed to be having an
interesting effect on her nipples, as their arousal and erectness
became more apparent as she drew closer.  Either A> she was a
turned-on as I was, or B> she was smuggling cherries in her bra,
or C> the room was colder to her than it was to me.  Not that it
mattered a damn bit.  The view was fantastic, and I enjoyed every
second of it.

As she approached the table, there was a broad smile on her face,
and an enticing twinkle in her eyes, like she had a secret.
Instead to taking the chair directly across the table, she had
been using, she took a seat next to him, where both he and the
table shielded her from the room.

After sitting, she leaned forward, as if to speak softly.  As her
head tilted, her long blonde mane softly swirled, and a quick
shake of her head settled it.  I moved my closer, and my eyes
widened in surprise and pleasure, as her sharp fingernails
sensuously raked the length of my thigh.

"We're going to discover some things together, Eric," she said in
a husky, sultry tone.

"Like what?"

"Ohhhhhhh, like how good the steaks are here.... And how big your
gun is..... And........," her voice dropped until it was almost
inaudible, "we're going to discover where you intend to spend the
night."

"Jesus, Candice...."

"You're not interested?"

"Of course I'm interested," he gasped.  "Do you think I'm crazy?"

A flush started to rise in her cheeks before she responded, "No,
Eric.  I'm the one who's acting crazy.  I'm sorry if I
embarrassed you."

"Nothing to be sorry for," I said in what i hoped was a quiet
soothing voice.  "At least not yet.  Let's eat our meals, and
make sure that that last statement wasn't just the booze
talking."

=====================================================================

    In the far corner of the bar, Leon had watched the entire
scenario unfold with a look of contempt on his face. He hated
cops.  And he hated fancy bitches almost as much.  There
weren't many things in this life that he didn't hate.

     He didn't really hate cops but it seemed as if they were
always around. Always picking on him, causing him trouble.  Like
the time he'd been caught peeping in his neighbor's apartment.
He sighed and nursed his beer.  What a sight she had been......

     He'd watched her off and on, ever since she'd moved in,
right across the street.  At first, he'd thought she was teasing
him; the way she seemed to leave the drapes open.  The first time
he'd noticed he was waiting for Bodo to pick him up for work.

     Leon immersed himself in the circumstances that lead to his
last contact with the police.........

     Leon hated working nights, but with his looks and record he
couldn't get a job at a bank, and stock brokers wouldn't touch
him with a ten foot pole (or two five foot Swedes glued
together). The job at the "Stop and Rob" just barely paid his
rent, so he'd had to supplement it by working as a collector for
Guido Schungilli.  Bodo had recruited him one night after he'd
had enough of a group of punk rockers.

     The four kids had been in and out of the store, buying
cigarettes, beer, bothering customers, and slobbering over the
'skin magazines' on the rack near the back door for over an hour
when they'd started scuffling.  In the process, they'd kicked
over a display of bottled beer, smashing several bottles, and
making an awful mess

     Leon had grabbed the short baseball bat he kept under the
counter and confronted them.  Demanding that they pay for what
they'd broken.

     "Cough it up," Leon demanded, snapping his fingers.

     "Up yer's.  We was just leavin'"

     The four spike-haired freaks pushed past him, making for the
entrance.  Leon was right behind them.  The punkers banged the
door open and arranged themselves in a semi-circle.

     "Let's have the cash, asshole," Leon growled.

     "You can have THIS," shouted the largest of the quartet, as
he attempted a round-house punch.

     Leon's face took on a wolfish grin, as he countered the blow
with a short thrust of the bat to the punk's diaphragm.  In less
than fifteen seconds all of the leather-clad, chain draped, spike
encrusted delinquents were on the ground, gasping and moaning.
Leon casually picked them up, and one at a time, unceremoniously
tossed them into the stinking dumpster near the curb.

     "Nicely done."

     The softly spoken words interrupted Leon's thoughts as
ambled back to the store.

     "I said..Nicely done."  The words came again from behind the
darkly tinted window of a new Lincoln Leon had not seen earlier.

     "No big deal......Just tossing out some trash."

     A few minutes later Leon had an offer for employment to
supplement the $6.50 an hour he was making as night manager.
Sigbodt (Bodo) Elliffson made it sound easy.  He ran the
collection operation for the town's biggest gambler, Guido
Schungilli.  All Leon would have to do was 'lean' on a few folks
with faulty memories.....and he could keep half of what he
collected.

     All of it had flooded over Leon, as he sat in his dark
apartment, waiting for Bodo, and watching his young neighbor
'star' in that evening's installment of, "Letch at your
Neighbor".

     He groaned as he watched the girl dancing along with the
exercise tape. She was wearing her usual un-outfit; just a filmy
bra and barb-wire panties.  Leon grinned at that line, and
thought 'barb-wire panties'.... they protect the property but
don't spoil the view.

     The girl was covered with a light sheen of sweat,
(perspiration, you asshole...  Ladies don't sweat), as he watched
her do exaggerated pelvic thrusts, supported by her feet and
shoulders, in a position that reminded him of a wrestler's
bridge.

     "Oh baby....could you and I do great things together, was
the last thought that flashed through his mind before Bodo's
Lincoln pulled to the curb outside his apartment....

     Bodo had him back to his apartment in less than an hour.
Just a few minutes of light work had netted him $150.  He'd
walked right up to the man's front door carrying a can of Blatz,
and confronted the deadbeat while his family watched tv in the
living room.

     "OK, asshole.  We can do this easy.... or we can do it hard.
Your choice."  His voice always surprised people, they thought it
sounded funny, kind of a raspy whiskey tenor that seemed out of
place emanating from his massive body.

     "Who are you?  What do you want?" that night's victim
stammered.

     "Guido sent me...., he said you'd understand."

     "Ahhh...  I'm two days late...., and he sends a collector?"

     "All I know is I'm supposed to bring back $300, and that's
all I'm gonna do.  Either that or a piece of your ass.  Your
choice.  I see Dead President's in one minute, or I start taking
you apart....  Right here where mom and the two kids can have a
front row seat to watch the mud and blood and the beer."  He
emphasized his statement by dumping the dregs of the Blatz on the
man's burnished cordovan wingtips.

     "Jesus, I don't have $300 in cash on me..."

     "Like I said.  Your choice....and you're down to thirty
seconds."  Leon rose to the balls of his feet, and began pulling
on thin black leather gloves.

     "Hold it..., come on..., hold it....  I've got maybe $150."

     "I'll take it," Leon rasped.  "You still get a beating and
you'll still owe this week's $300.  We'll consider the $150
interest.  And next week's $300 and this week's $300 are both due
on Monday.  Or I'll be back."

     "Jeez...I've got the money in the bank.  I just don't have
it here...."

     "So....?"

     "So follow me over to the bank machine....  I'll get you the
whole $300," came the whining reply.

     "No fucking around?"

     "Just let me get my wallet," the man begged.

     "You're not gettin' outa my sight.  Just holler at your
wife, and have her bring it to you."

     The guy was practically groveling, begging Leon not to get
his family involved....., but, he did as he was told.  The lady
of the house, (not a bad looking piece of beef either) looked at
Leon questioningly until the guy went into a song and dance about
a water leak at his office, and how he had to go look and would
be right back.

     Leon rode with the welcher while Bodo trailed them in the
Lincoln.  The trip and the rest of the transaction were
uneventful, almost anti-climatic.  He got the $300 and made a
strong suggestion to the man that he keep his account current.

     As Bodo drove him home, Leon peeled off $150 and stuffed it
into his pocket, handing Bodo the other half.

     "Wanna drink?" Bodo asked.

     "Nahh...I'm too wound up right now.  I really was looking
forward to pounding some lumps on that whuss...", Leon remarked
as he started to crawl out of Bodo's car.

     "Maybe next time," Bodo laughed, as he began to drive off.

     Leon watched the Lincoln turn the corner and was about to
start up the walk to his building when movement in the window
across the street caught his eye.  It was 'her' apartment.

     Leon crossed the street, and drifted closer to the building,
changing his angle to the window, until he had a clear view into
her bedroom.  He'd caught part of this kind of action an earlier
night, but from across the street (even with binoculars) he could
not see too well.

     This was a different story.  He had a clear, close-up view
of 'her' as  she lay naked on her bed.  He watched her hands
glide over her torso and cupped her breasts.  Her fingers busily
teasing her coral pink nipples, and he watched carefully as they
became firm and erect before his eyes.

     She shifted slightly and reached to a bedside table, and
then while one hand continued to torment her tits, the other used
a bumpy pink dildo to get herself off, over and over again.

     Leon watched the drama unfold, captured by its sheer
eroticism, and  didn't notice the black and white cruiser as it
turned onto his street, and accelerated toward where he was
standing, close to her window.

     "Freeze, motherfucker," a voice barked, jerking Leon back to
reality.

     The two cops had spread-eagled him across the hood of the
cruiser, patted him down, and cuffed him.  Leon had been through
the drill a time or two, so he cooperated...., as much as they'd
let him.  The $150 jammed into his pocket had raised their
eyebrows, as had the $200 and change in his wallet.

     They'd called in on the radio, using his driver's license as
an ID, and  glared at him, while they waited for an NCIC report.
Then it finally was radioed back, it was lights and sirens all
the way to the Cop Shop.

     He stayed cuffed during the booking, and while he was
finger-printed, one of the bulls had his opposite arm in a
hammerlock.  He guessed they didn't get many yellow sheets like
his....

     When the detective finally got around to interviewing him,
he was asked, "What were you doing when the officers apprehended
you?"

     "I just got home and was starting into my apartment, when I
saw something in that window.  It looked like a fight or
something, so I walked across the street to be sure.  I was just
checking it out when your guys jumped all over me."

     "They said you were acting like a peeper."

     "Like hell...when did you ever see a peeper standing on the
sidewalk... without a raincoat...under a streetlight?"

     "You've got a point there, Ace."

     "Damn straight."  Leon wasn't worried and it started to show
in his tone of voice.  "I was across the street from my own
apartment, on the sidewalk, acting like a good citizen...what are
you going to charge me with?"

     "Relax, Ace," the detective answered.  "I'm cutting you
loose this time. But, we'll be watching for you to step outa
line..., just once.  Then, it'll be right back in the slammer.

     By the time Leon got back to his place, there were no lights
showing across the street in 'her' apartment, so he stripped,
stretched out, and simply stroked himself, as he replayed what
he'd watched through her window.

     The next day, he paid a visit to "Telescopes-R-Us" and
bought a 300x telescope and tripod, which he installed in a
strategic window.  That night, and almost every night from then
on, he watched, enjoyed, and  desired his neighbor.  He didn't
know if she was an exhibitionist or just forgetful, and he didn't
really care.  He did know that he was forming a real attachment
for the little bundle of red-haired dynamite that nearly every
day made his forehead sweat and his joint swell and throb.

     Leon's day dream ended, and he glanced across the bar to the
table where the blonde and the cop were working on some steaks.
If he was any judge, the blonde had just decided to snap her lips
around a trouser trout.

=====================================================================

Me..., Eric Thornquist, Detective Senior Grade, had learned quite
a bit about The Constitution's Arts and Entertainment food
reviewer while we ate.  I also learned a bit about the blonde
too.

I learned the food reviewer probably took cash under the table in
exchange for glowing reviews.  Our steaks were well prepared, but
tough.

The lady was tough too.  In more ways than one.  Her name (at
least for tonight) was Candice, and she lived up on the hill.
She was 33 years old, married for the second time, had great
legs, and seemed horny as hell.

"Whattaya say we get outa here?" I asked, as I set my coffee cup
down on the dark, highly polished table.

"Where to?" Candice asked.  "Some place private, I hope."

"I was thinking of the police pistol range...out behind the
airport.  Is that private enough?"

"So I can play with your gun?" she giggled.

"You seemed interested earlier."

"Well, that seemed fair," she answered.  "I was looking at your
gun butt, and you were looking at mine."

"Right you are...  What I was looking at had nothing to do with a
gun," I answered with a perfectly straight face.

"I know...  Oh, I know..." came her breathy reply.  "I could feel
your eyes moving over it."

"Let's go, and you'll feel a lot more than my eyes."

"Promises, promises," she said with a wicked glint in her eyes.

"Well", I asked, "are we gonna sit here all night?  I think it
was probably the booze talking earlier, anyway."

"What aah-vah do ya-all mean?"

"When you said, we'd have to see where I was going to spend the
night."

"If there's two things I know how to do, it's hold my liquor,
and keep my word.  I'll just make a quick stop in the Lady's, and
we'll see if that pistol you're carrying is a pop-gun or a real
cannon.  Toss me your raincoat, and I'll be right back."

She picked up her purse, and took my damp coat like it was a dead
rat.  Then she repeated that fantastic stroll across the room to
the 'tur-let'.  She wasn't quite as steady on her feet as she'd
been earlier, but that didn't detract from my enjoyment.

While she was gone, I paid off Janine, and gave her a twenty
percent tip.  She didn't look at all impressed by my generosity.
In fact, I swear I heard her whisper, "bastard" in my general
direction.

Candice stepped out of the Lady's, and motioned for me to join
her.  I have to say, that old rain coat looked a lot better on
her than it did on me.

=====================================================================

     Leon, watched Eric, as he walked over and took Candice's
elbow as they started out to the parking lot.  He also noticed as
she leaned heavily against him, apparently feeling the effects of
the drinks.

=====================================================================

I wasn't sure, but I suspected that the way she pressed her firm
warm breast against my hand as we walked, wasn't entirely the
fault of the alcohol.  But, under the circumstances, who was I to
complain?

"Which car are we going to take," Candice asked as we approached
the plain Ford I was using, where it was parked in the second
row.

"Maybe we should take mine," I replied.  "That way there won't be
any questions if it's seen at the range."

"Wonderful," Candice cooed, "the last thing I need is my husband
asking questions."

Always the gentleman, I steered her across the gravel and pot-
holes, and unlocked and opened the door for her.  With a minimum
of lost motion, the clip-board and thermos were tossed into the
back seat.

"Your chariot awaits, Lovely Lady."

"Boy you are full of it, aren't you," she whispered in my ear,
just before grazing my cheek with a kiss.  Returning her mouth to
the vicinity of my ear she continued softly, "Before long I hope
it's me that's full."

I tried..., unsuccessfully, not to react, but I was only too
aware of the hard swelling that pressed against her thigh as I
helped her into the car.

"Be careful of your legs.  You'll have to ride with that shotgun
between your knees."

"That will only be a preview, I hope," she said smiling up.

As I watched her settle herself into the seat, I was only too
aware that she had eagerly straddled the Model 870 Remington 12-
gauge that was locked to the dashboard by the barrel.  I also
paid particular attention to the long, lean, well proportioned
leg that was exposed below the hem of my ratty raincoat.  All the
way from her ankle to way above the middle of her thigh.

She watched my eyes caress her long legs.  Then she coyly lowered
her eyes, and tugged at the raincoat in a very unsuccessful
attempt to cover herself.

I moved the car out of the parking lot, to the edge of the
highway, where I stopped, and checked carefully before pulling
out onto the deserted road, thinking traffic was awfully light
to be only 11:15.

Concentrating around the edges of a light buzz from the booze, I
drove five miles or so, and then turned off onto the airport
bypass.  Keeping my mind on the road was getting difficult.  Not
only had the booze reached over from the back seat and mugged me,
but Candice wasn't helping a bit.  She was sitting right beside
him; spraddle-legged.  Sometime or another, she had unbuttoned my
rain coat, and was running her hands over her barely covered
breasts.

Like I said.  I don't know exactly when she'd done it.  But, in
the 'tur-let' I guess, she'd ditched the knit dress, and changed
into my raincoat.  And then some place between the time I'd
turned out onto the highway, and when I'd made the turn toward
the airport, but regardless - she'd unbuttoned it, and all that
prevented the bounty of her upper body from swinging free was a
light, lacy, almost transparent bra.  And below the waist....
All I could see in the shadows was an equally lacy garter belt,
pressing into, and looping around those porno-image-producing
hips of hers.

=====================================================================

     Leon's eyes followed the couple as they made their way from
the bar into the parking lot.  He'd moved to the window, and
watched with interest as Eric helped her into the car.  Then, he
carefully followed them when they pulled away from "The Broken
Drum."

     Every time he saw the sub-title to the joint's name he had
to laugh...  "The Broken Drum" (You can't Beat it)...  Somehow,
even as corny as it was, the damn thing cracked him up.

     When Eric's car started to make the turn onto the Airport
Bypass, Leon pulled to the side of the road, and clicked on his
emergency flashers.  He climbed out, and watched the tail lights
until he saw them flare briefly, and then turn into the police
pistol range.

     As he waited to be sure Eric was not using the dirt road as
a convenient turnaround, he opened the trunk of his car, and
pulled out a battered leather case.  Bodo had often asked him to
work surveillance on somebody, discreetly following and recording
their activities; so using the camera to make a record of Eric
and Candice's activities of the evening was almost second nature.

     He spun the rewind knob.  Happily there was no resistance
indicating the camera was loaded.  He popped the back open, and
loaded it with industrial grade, high speed infrared film.  After
re-latching the camera, he double-checked the data recording
back, and smiled as he noted both the time and date were correct.

     He took his time, sure that Eric would be able to entertain
himself for a while, as he attached a 80-270mm zoom lens, and
mounted the strobe that was already equipped with a heavy dark
red filter.

     Leon smiled to himself, as climbed back into the car and
drove a hundred yards past the pistol range road.  Then he pulled
in under some trees, and began silently threading his way through
the dense undergrowth that shielded the range from the road and
vice versa.

=====================================================================

When I pulled the car to a stop, I have to say, I was both
shocked and amazed by Candice's reaction.  She left no question
in my mind as to just what was expected of me in these
circumstance.  She'd made it crystal clear during the drive from
the Broken Drum that she had serious sex on her mind.

As soon as we were parked, she climbed out of the car, walked
over to a nearby picnic table, and proceeded to shrug off the
raincoat that had only covered her arms and shoulders, and then
unclipped the tiny fastener that held the two sides of her filmy
bra together.

Candice's spectacular, firm breasts were free, and I approached
her, and reached for them.  Knowing what she liked, she quickly
turned around, pressing her sleek ass into my already hard
crotch.  Since Mama didn't raise any dummies, I reached around
and took a tit in each hand.

Candice groaned with pleasure, when my hands grasped those tender
globes, and then she purred, "Pinch my nipples.. PLEASE!"

I was used to following orders, so her request didn't cause me
any undue concern.  Almost eagerly I complied, and gripped her
already engorged nipples firmly between his thumb and
forefingers.

"Harder, damn you!"

I increased the pressure, and she moaned, pressing her ass even
harder against my now fully aroused cock, as she writhed.  To add
to her arousal, I firmly tugged and twisted her nipples, and she
went wild...

"Oh, God!,  Oh God,  Yesss," she hissed.  "This'll teach him.
Oh, yesss, do it,  Do it!"

=====================================================================

     Leon could hear them as he made his way through the brush
that surrounded the pistol range, and he hoped that he would not
be too late to capture whatever they we doing on film.  He
thought having something on film to use against that fucking
detective might be good insurance.

     Besides, from the racket she was making, he might get some
shots that would keep him company.... on those nights his sexy
young neighbor got his motor running... which was most nights....
Especially now that he had his telescope.

=====================================================================

Candice shrugged herself free of my clutching hands, and in two
steps was sitting on the picnic table.  One foot resting on the
bench seat, and the other planted on the table top.  She was
leaning back on her elbows when she said, "Eric..., you never had
dessert."

She was right.  Neither of us had.  But, the night was still
young!

I stepped up to the plate (well, the picnic bench really);
prepared to hit a home run (okay, at least a double, then). The
bench of the picnic table was still damp from the rain, but I was
doin' it for the Gipper.... or at least my best to her gripper.

I leaned forward, and lay the side of my face on her firm
stomach, while my hands were busy locating, and then stroking
their way up her thighs.  Her musky scent, signaling her
readiness wafted into my nostrils, and raised my temperature even
higher.  She was already shivering, and since the night was warm,
I was sure it wasn't from the cold.

In a series of coordinated moves I hadn't used in a while, I used
my fingers to open her petal-like lips, and ran my tongue the
full length of her soaking snatch.  She came.  Bucking and
gasping, her hips rocked in all directions at once, as they tried
(successfully, I might add) to keep my sucking, licking mouth on
(or at least very close) to her clitoris.

=====================================================================

     When Leon stepped quietly out of the woods, what to his
wondering eyes should appear, but a stark naked blonde with the
guy's face in her puss...

     The way they were carrying on, he had to be careful, but not
silent, as he moved around in the dark.  Smoothly, he lifted the
camera to his eye, and cranked off about 5 shots.  Each of them
from a slightly different perspective, and all of them making use
of the close-up capability of the zoom lens.  Oh, yeah.......
Some mighty hot shots.

=====================================================================

"Wait...  Let me breathe, you bastard!" she grinned down at me.

I had to think for a second about letting WHO breathe.  I mean,
it was my nose and mouth that she was pressing into her pulsating
gash.  And then I understood.  It was that last orgasm that
seemed to grow larger and more all encompassing, as it crashed
through her like a surfer's dream wave at Wakiki.

"Break time?" I asked, as I rested my face on her thigh, and
trailed my fingers through her thick blonde thatch.

"No, you son-of-a-bitch," she laughed quietly.  "It's time for
the main event."  She turned and in two steps was sitting on the
picnic table.  One foot resting on the bench seat, and the other
planted on the table top.  "That is.... If you're you're not all
mouth."

She motioned for me to move off the bench, and I did.  I slid
off, and took a step back, as she scooted forward, and sat,
facing me, in the same spot I had just vacated.

I was standing between her wide-spread knees, so it was no
problem for me to reach out and pull her head against my belly.
She rested there for a few moments, and then she leaned back and
reached for my belt.

With sure, deliberate motions, I was unbuckled and unzipped.  My
trousers went south, landing in twin wrinkled piles around my
ankles.  My boxers went next.

She reached out, and placed her hand, palm up, under 'Old
Faithful', and just let him lie there.

"Eric, this is not a snub-nosed pistol.  It's a cannon."

"I'm glad you like it," I answered breathlessly.  (I mean, it's
hard (pardon the expression) not to be breathless when you're
standing between a naked lady's knees, and she's complimenting
you on the caliber of your weapon as well as the length of it's
barrel).

She leaned forward, running the tip of her tongue around the
head, and then sucked about half it's length into her mouth.  Her
tongue was doing the Tango, or the Cha Cha, as her firm lips
massaged it.  I, having nothing better to do with them, put my
hands on the back of her head, and tried to help her with the
back and forth, in and out, up and down...

"Oh no you don't," she hissed around my joint, as her eyes
flashed up at me.  Her words were really more like 'owww, nough
jew doughwwnt', but I got the message.  Instead of 'helping' I
started stroking that long blonde hair.

=====================================================================

     Leon knew the pictures were going to be great.  Him going
down on her, and then her trying to suck start his Harley.  The
photos would give him many nights of pleasant memories, and a
little something to use if this detective ever tried running a
game on him.

=====================================================================

Candice knew exactly what she was doing down there. More than
once she had me close to the brink, but she slowed down, and let
me recover.  Then she started giving me head in earnest.  Pumping
with her lips, tickling with her tongue, and cupping my balls
with one hand as her sharp finger nails raked my inner thighs.

Suddenly she stopped, and said, "We'll do it like this later.  I
want you to cum in me the first time..."

Was I mad?  Was I disappointed?  Hell no!!  Face is face, but
pussy is pussy.....  And given a choice, the fuzzy clam will win
EVERY time.

I stepped back, and Candice stood up momentarily.  I say
momentarily, because that's about how long it took for her to
turn around, spread her long beautiful legs, bend at the waist,
and present her gorgeous sculpted ass.  Even in the subdued
light, her pussy glistened with her juice.  I stepped up to the
plate.

My bat was in her box (to continue the simile), and I pressed
on (at least in).  She shifted her weight from leg to leg
as I penetrated her pussy.  When I had been completely engulfed,
I withdrew, until only the tiniest edge of the tip remained
inside, and then slowly entered her again.  A perfect fit!

As I pounded into her I heard mewing sounds, gasps, groans and I
think at least one 'OOOhhhh GGoddddddd!'  My hips were jerking
back and forth in an ancient rhythm, providing a driving bass
beat, while she maintained the tempo, and pulsed wildly following
a slightly different but VERY complimentary score.  The composer
was a master, because instead of slowing, the beat got faster and
wilder, as we both drove toward a crashing crescendo.

My balls tightened, my cock swelled (and she commented) and then
gushed - over and over, shooting streams of hot sperm deep into
her pussy, that spasmed and milked me with muscular contractions.

When our climaxes (climaxi ?) had passes, I stayed buried deep
inside her hot box, thrusting minutely, not wanting the moment to
pass...  Finally, she said, "Okay, Eric...  You'll need a few
minutes to recover, before you can do THAT again.  Let's rest
someplace where we won't get splinters in our asses."

We dressed, more or less, because Candice was still wearing only
my raincoat, fired up the Chevy and drove back toward the Broken
Drum.  It was awfully quiet in the car, as we both seemed alone
with our thoughts.  My right hand was entwined with hers as I
steered with my left, and her head rested softly on my shoulder.

"Mmmmmm, that was nice," she said softly when were a block or so
from the 'Drum'.

"Sure was," I answered, as my eyes flicked up to the rear view
mirror.  I thought I'd seen a car following us when we turned off
the airport bypass onto the highway.

"Everything all right?  You seem awfully quiet? she asked.

"No, everything's fine...  In fact wonderful," I replied.  "I'm
just having a hard time believing this evening."

"Me too," she said.  Then in a little firmer voice she continued,
"I suppose it's back to the wife and rug-rats for you."

It wasn't a question.  But, it did demand an answer, so I gave
her one.  "Nope...  It's back to my apartment for a couple of
drinks and then to bed."

"Alone......  I can't believe that."

"It's true...  "

"Not tonight it's not."  The words were louder, more cheerful.
Almost relieved.  "That is, you don't have to sleep alone
tonight, unless you want to....."

Again, not a question.  Not a request.  Just an open ended
statement that I could pick up and run with....  And I made like
O.J. Simpson.  "You're serious, aren't you?" I asked.

"Why don't we go to your place, and I show you how serious I am."

I flipped a U-ey, through a closed Texaco station, and then
ducked through a couple of side streets and charged down the ramp
onto the Interstate.  I squeezed her hand, and said, "Candi.. You
don't mind if I call you Candi, do you?"

"Call me anything you want, Eric.  Just don't make me go home."

"Candi, things like this just don't happen to me...." I sputtered
lamely.

"Like this?" she asked, as she released my hand and jammed it
against her dripping cunt.

My fingers began to explore all her wonderful creases and
crevices, and I was having a HARD (at least a difficult) time
keeping the Chevy between the white lines, and the rain had
started again.  "Like any of this," I tried to continue the
thought.  "Like meeting somebody like you, and having a bite, and
then... and then going off with them like a horny teenager to
park...."

"If that was parking," she said, as she shifted up onto one
cheek, and pushed my fingers into her, "you had a much more
exciting teenagerhood than I did."

My exit was coming, up, so I tried to concentrate.  Shit, if I
overshot, and missed it the next one was five more miles.  I
swerved across two puddle filled lanes, and blasted up to the
stop at the top of the exit ramp in a cloud of spin-drift, while
on a whole other level of consciousness, my fingers pressed into
her, massaging the interior of her snatch.

It was only a couple of blocks to my place, and I managed to get
us there through the downpour in one piece.  Looking back, I'm
not sure how, but if we'd had an accident, they'd have had to
chop my arm off at the elbow, and my fingers would have been
coming out her nose; she was that slick and eager.

Once in my apartment, we didn't waste much time.  She made a
couple of comments about how surprised she was that the place
wasn't a mess, but a 'Better Homes and Gardens' tour wasn't high
on our collective agendas.  I pointed her at the 'tur-let' and
the bedroom, and ducked into the kitchen to mix a couple of
drinks.  I didn't know if she needed one, but I sure did!

When I made it to the bedroom, she was already in bed, with just
the sheet covering her, slim sexy form.  I'd dropped my suit
coat in the dining room, draping it over a chair, like usual, so
I put my 9MM on the closet shelf, and unbuckled the shoulder-rig.
The leather and elastic monstrosity went on top of the dresser.

I sat on the edge of the bed and slipped off my shoes, very aware
of being observed.  Then the shirt went into the dirty clothes
basket, and my pants were quickly hung over the corner of the
door.

The sound of windblown rain against the window, and its shadows
generated by the streetlight across the parking area  moved over
the room.  We snuggled closer together under the covers, as we
savored the warmth of our bodies meeting, and touching.  My arm
was over her side, pulling her back into me, and my hand cupped
her breast softly.

She sighed softly, as she felt my lips lightly grazing the back
of her neck, working slowly down to the tops of her shoulders.
My breath is warm and arousing, making her arch back into me.  I
felt her response, knowing that she was not yet fully ready.

My lips begin moving around the side of her neck, just lightly
kissing her with soft, dry kisses that worked their way up her
neck, until they were just below her ear.

She felt my breath flowing around her ear, then a long, slow
kiss, my lips wide, slowly closing, caressing her neck just below
her ear. She moaned softly, and moved against me in a soft,
sensual undulation. Her eyes were barely open, but she had a sexy
smile on her face.

My tongue traced the edge of her ear, and her nails lightly raked
my thigh as she let out a long moan.

My fingers closed over her nipple, rolling it between my fingers
the way I knew she liked it. Another long moan escaped her lips,
this time with a long breath. I could feel her nipple standing
tall..., hard and eager for more attention.

She rolled into me, turning half onto her back, turning her face
toward me. My hand left her breast and slid down the center of
her chest, flat palmed to spread warmth through her. Our lips
met, gently. Hers were so soft, sensually warm.  We kissed
briefly again, a second time, lingering longer, playing our lips
over each other, slowly building our passions.

Without words or cues, we knew just when the tempo of our love
should change. Our lips parted, our mouths came together, and her
tongue flowed into my mouth.  Somehow feeling even more intimate
than sex.  Our tongues danced, together celebrating our new found
closeness.  We felt our bodies melt together, heat and radiant
warmth, flowed through us.  It seemed to last forever, but not
long enough.

Her hand slipped through my hair and I felt her give herself to
me. My lips worked down her throat, across the sensitive skin,
warming her with my breath.

We moved and she lay on her back, with an arm sliding under my
upraised chest to pull me closer.

I moved down, kissing her chest, licking her lightly where her
breasts blended into her chest. She felt my lips between her
breasts, then on their sides. I pulled the covers over my head,
to keep the warm air inside. In the darkness of our private cave
I found her firm breast and licked around its outside edge,
tracing it with my tongue. I felt her press herself toward me as
my tongue moved underneath, teasing the soft, sensitive skin
there. I knew what she wanted me to do, and I would... in time.

My lips nipped at her other nipple, pulling on the soft skin,
playing with her. I could sense she was getting impatient, but
still demanding more. I let my hair tickle one breast as I turned
my mouth back to the other. She felt my tongue under the breast,
licking upwards over the curve. The warm wetness excited her as I
moved closer to her nipple.

My tongue flicked upwards, right past her hard, stiff nipple,
flicking it.  Slowly I circled the edge of her areola, then
closed my lips around it, sucking, and nipping.

My lips pressed down, then tugged on her nipple. Then she felt my
tongue flicking it up and down, left and right, faster and
faster.  I released it, and sucked it again, closing my mouth
around her areola, sucking all of her lovely nipple into my
mouth.  With a wide, wet, flat tongue I washed it in warmth, then
let my lips slide down to grasp the hard tip again.  My lips
shielded my teeth as I bit it gently, making her quiver and moan.

I could feel her arching up, trying to feel my skin against hers.
I let my hands glide down her sides, flowing over the curve of
her hips.  I wanted to lick all of her, to eat her up, to hold her
in my arms and press my face against every square inch of her
body.

Even under the covers I could see the outline of her sexy
stomach. Earlier she said it could never be flat enough, never
right.  She was wrong!!  It was perfectly sexy, wonderfully warm,
always sensual.  My lips traced along the edges of her stomach,
then down the center.  I could tell she wanted me to move lower,
but not too fast.  It was a delicious place to be.

I moved lower, touching her legs, letting my body caress her
where my hands and lips could not.

What a soft, sensitive area I have found! My lips caressed the
edge of her mons, lightly kissing around the edge of her
triangle. Teasing, I slid my tongue along the line formed by her
legs meeting her torso. It was so sexy to feel her writhe when I
did that.   Like an iceskater on an empty lake, I let my tongue
draw circles, curves and curly-q's over her mons, then down
lower, maddeningly close to her magic button.

Her scent filled my nostrils, filling me with an urgent desire. I
knew I wanted her, but I wanted us both to ride higher before we
consumed each other.  Reluctantly I left her luscious mound,
licking and kissing my way down her succulent thigh. My hand
roamed ever so lightly over her other thigh.  I alternated the
touch of my lips.  Left, right, left, right. I could feel her
enjoying it, letting herself float on the feelings.

She felt my lips on the back of her knee, my hand slide down her
shapely calf. Her sexy legs, taut and shapely. Doing just what I
wanted as they wrapped around my ears, locked behind my back, and
pulled my face tighter against her pussy.

I worked my way up her other leg, alternating between kissing her
inner thigh on one side, then the other. It felts like my lips
were walking up between her legs, searching for that place that
would make her feel so good.

My hands slid over her legs, upwards, to hold her flaring hips.
At last I let her feel my hot, steamy breathe, right between her
legs, right where it should be.  A jolt shocked her as my tongue
touched just to the right of her pussy, licking slowly, ever so
slowly upwards. I could feel her tighten, breathing harder as I
moved closer to the top of her pussy.

I moved to the other side. Again using long, slow stroking tongue
pressure, warm, and damp, as I licked the inside of that thigh
too, just below her pussy, teasing her tingling skin. Heat from
her pussy flooded my face, humid, full of her scent. It made my
mouth water, made me hard, made me want her even more.

I used just the tip of my tongue, held hard and pointed, I let it
gently part the folds of her flower, I tasted her as I rose
slowly upwards. I stopped, momentarily, just below her aching
clit, I teased her for a second longer.  Then she felt my tongue,
circling her clit, flicking it lightly back and forth, up and
down. At once her loins were ablaze with marvelous electric
jolts. They jerked outwards, welcoming me.

My tongue dived in, lapping up the slippery cream that flowed
from her, as I circled her entrance, flicking and feathering up
her slit until it began circling her clit.  I could feel her body
stiffening, feel her legs stretching out.  I wanted her to lock
her legs over my back and pull my face tight. To let me make her
cum, to let me taste her deeply, to feel her spasm and tremble. I
wanted to feel her legs clamping around my head.

Oh God! She'd be so sexy when she cums like that, her hands on my
head, her soft, sexy buns cupped in my hands, her legs tight
around me. I loved to taste her, to lick her as she cums, to feel
her pussy spasm against my face. Best of all, I liked to look up
and see her smiling dreamily.

From there, our evening could have gone any direction and it
would have suited me.

We could have just lain and cuddled, or she could have rolled
onto her stomach, relaxing while I slowly made love to her.
Or, this could have been a night when she wrapped her legs around
me and pulled me deep into her pussy, both of us staring deep
into each other's eyes.

Who knows, this might be one of those times when she wants to
give to me.  Where she climbs on top, and makes me lie still so
she can drive me crazy.  Or, this might be one of those happy
times where she lies between my legs, sucking and teasing me as I
did to her, making me crazy by wrapping herself around me, her
lips reaching for the base of my cock, showing me how much she
enjoys giving me pleasure too.

"Eric," she said softly, there in the darkness, would you be mad
if I asked you to quit eating me?"

"Mad.....  I don't think so.  I'd just place you under arrest for
resisting..."

"Ohhhh, resisting is the last thing on my mind... I promise."

I lifted my face from her juicy box, and slid up over her, still
between her wide-spread knees.  When my head passed her chest, I
slowed momentarily... Well, maybe a little longer, to give each
of her nipples a lick and a tug.  Her pelvis rocked, in time with
my nibbles, and her sharp fingernails raked my back.

As my face was about even with hers, I felt her arm and hand
snake down, grab my cannon, and guide it into her.  This time was
even better than by the picnic table.  Not that there was
anything wrong with taking her from behind....  Oh no!  That was
a definite 'do again'.  But, this was more intimate, less frantic.

I pressed the head passed the muscular ring, and sank into her
hot wet center, and paused, enjoying the sensation.  Her breasts
were squashed almost flat under my chest, our bellies were tight
together, and we were fully joined at the crotch.  A very time-
honored position.

My hips pressed forward, driving me deeper, and then withdrew,
and then repeated the thrust, withdrawal, thrust, withdrawal.  I
felt her heels slide up the backs of my thighs, pressing me
slightly deeper with each plunge.

I could hear her breathing, faster and faster as the beast with
two backs writhed on my bed.

"Up on your elbows, Eric, please....  I can't breathe."

I took some of my weight off her chest, and looked down into her
eyes, that were wide and staring.  "Better?" I asked.

"Oh, yesss," she gasped, as I continued to ride her.

Her ankles had moved higher, and now were wrapped around the
small of my back, and her legs were actively involved in driving
me as deep as possible with each thrust.  My head dropped , and I
looked between our bodies, toward where we were joined in the
shadows, and the bounce and sway of her firm mammaries captured
my attention.

She was moving freely under me in that split-second between
the withdrawal and the beginning of a new plunge, and I could
feel her muscles ripple around my cock.  Her legs helped propel
me forward, her pelvis rocked, and I drove in, and struck bottom.

She gasped, and then we did it again, over and over.  The tip of
my cock would bump something deep inside her, she would gasp,
and her pussy would flutter.

We were both getting to the short stokes.  There was a glow to
her face and a flush across her chest and neck, and my balls were
tingling, and my cock was swelling.  I think she started just a
second ahead of me, but who cares!!  We essentially came
together, which although it isn't all it's cracked up to be, is
pretty terrific.

When the shuddering and spasming, and spewing and cuming was
over, I lay in her arms as we both gasped and wheezed.  Then I
rolled off and she lay on my shoulder, with her knee across my
thighs.

"I've gotta go..."  I was aware of the words, even though I
hadn't really heard her say them, as we lay there cuddling.

"I thought you didn't want me to send to home?" I mumbled.

"Who said anything about home.....?" she said, just after she
licked my ear.  "I've gotta use your 'tur-let'."

"Okay," I said sleepily.  "I'll be right here."

That earned me a poke in the ribs, so I leaned up on my elbow,
and watched her perfection (spelled ass) as she moved through the
dark bedroom, and became an hour-glass-shaped outline against the
bright light.

I felt the bed bounce, when she returned, and then a hiss of
displeasure....

"Awww, shit!"

"Whatsa matter?" I mumbled.

"I've got the wet spot."

"Only if you  want it....  Come around here.  It's dry."

"Then you'll have it," she whined.

"Wanna bet?  You sleep on this side, and I'll be so close to
you..."  (What a gentleman!?)

By now I was more or less awake, so I rolled out of the bed,
patting my side.  "C'mon...  Get your gorgeous ass over here, and
I'll take care of the wet spot."

When I got back from the bathroom with a fresh towel, she had
done what I asked, and was lying flat on her back, clutching the
sheet and blanket up under her chin, with both hands staring at
the ceiling.

"I know...  It needs painting."  I said as I slid in beside her.

"Wha....  Ohhh, no...  It's fine.

"Then what's the matter?" I asked.

"Just nervous.....  That's all," she answered.

"What have you got to be nervous about NOW?  Hell, if you were
going to be nervous, it should have been a couple of hours ago."

"A couple of hours ago, I was too hot to be nervous."

By now my arm was under her neck, and her head was again on my
shoulder.  My free hand was sliding over her flank, soothing her,
like you would a scared puppy.  "C'mon, Candi...  What's the
matter?"

"I'm scared...  That's what's the matter." she said grimly.

"About what?"  I was starting to get sleepy again, but I was
struggling.

"If my husband finds out about tonight....  He'll kill us both."

Now I wasn't sleepy!  "I thought you said he was out-of-town or
something?" I asked, suddenly paying more attention to her words
than her firm, young flesh that I was stroking.

"I think I said he was working late.  He's always working late,
or out-of-town.  That's what I said."

There was a resigned tone to her voice.  Kinda' like 'what's done
is done, and there's no way to fix it'.  "It's too late now?" I
asked.  "I mean, it's too late to go home now?"

"Yeah....   By now he's home.  I mean, how can I explain...  What
could I say?"

"Tell him the truth," I said quietly.  My brain was spinning a-
mile-a-minute.  "You can't lie...  He'll know in a second if
you're lying to him."

"No!  You don't know him.  He'll kill me....  I mean literally
kill me DEAD!  Then he'll come after you.  Or he'll send somebody
after you," she protested.

"Then don't tell him the full truth...  Just tell him enough that
it makes sense..."  I was scrambling now.  All I needed was some
jealous son-of-a-bitch gunning for me.

I continued....  "Tell him you stopped someplace for a drink or
two.  As you were leaving you bumped into a cop, who pinched
you."  This last statement was accompanied by a firm squeeze of
the closest available nipple.

She gasped, and looked over at me, her eyes wild.

"Then, tell him you were too embarrassed, or too scared to call
him in the middle of the night, so you waited until this morning,
signed yourself out, and now you're home...."

"That just might work."

"Sure," I said, none too sure whether it would or not.  "I can
write up a violation and give it to you.  You know, I'll put a
time on it like 8:30 or 9:00."

"Yes.... And that would explain why my car is still at the
Drum....   Oh, Eric... I think It'll work."  Her last statement
was accompanied by a long deep kiss.

"Okay,  now settle down and get some sleep," I said as my free
hand moved over her.

She sighed, and rolled over on her side, pressing back against
me. My face was buried in her long blonde hair, and my arm and
hand were draped over her tight flat stomach.

=====================================================================

I guess we both drifted off.  Because the next thing I was aware
of, was waking up in almost the same position.  I say almost,
because now my cock was hard as a rock, resting against her butt,
and my hand was filled with her tit.  I turned my head a little
and nuzzled her neck.

"Morning, lover..."  I heard her say softly.  "Did you sleep
all right?"  Her hand covered mine, and mine still covered her
breast.

"Better than all right.  I could get used to this."

"Me too." Her words ware accompanied by a wiggle of her hips.  The
base of 'Ol Faithful' was now resting in the crack of her ass.

"I suppose we better get up," I said, glancing at the alarm
beside the bed.

"If you want to," she answered, again wiggling her butt against
me.  But, before we do, I have a question for you."

"Okay, but be gentle," I said.  "It's still early."

"I think you'll like the question," she giggled.  "If you saw a
couple in bed...  Just like we are now...  You know like
spoons...  Both facing the same way, and pressed tight
together...  Can you guess the man's name?"

"Huh...?"  (God I'm brilliant in the morning.)

"Can you guess the man's name...  You have two choices, and
either one of them could be right."  More giggling and wriggling.

"I don't have a clue....  Tell me."  Now my other hand was full of
tit, while I ran my free one up and down her side, thigh and
over the cheek of her ass.

"And the answers are........  Willie Turner,"  giggle, "or Willie
Taylor".  The second name was accompanied by a twitch of her
butt.

"Ahhhhhhh," I said, "I understand now."  The hand that had been
stroking her thigh and ass dipped down between her firm cheeks,
and traced a line the full length of her pussy and up over her
anus.  "Now I have a question for you, little girl."

"What's that?"

"Can you reach into that drawer beside you, and get the tube of
K-Y?  Then either Mr. Turner or Mr. Taylor can visit."

Momentarily, she handed me the tube of lube, and said, "I feel so
lazy this morning......  Would you mind if I didn't move?"

"Then it would be Mr. Taylor who comes calling, I suppose."

"As long as he's gentle," she sighed.

"Very....."  I quickly replied.  "I suppose the best thing would
be for you to roll over....  No... On your stomach."

=====================================================================

     Leon's hands were shaking, he was so excited, as he handed
over the still damp prints to Bodo.  "The bastard gave me the
slip on the Freeway, so after I looked for him and couldn't find
him I went to the darkroom to see what the camera captured."

     "Son-of-a-bitch!" Bodo exclaimed.  "Does anyone else know
you've got these?"

     "Of course not, Boss," Leon quipped.  "See they're not even
dry yet."

     Leon reached for his car phone, and after waiting for the
connection to be completed he started, "Guido....  Was Rhonda
home tonight?"

     There was a pause while the Big Boss answered.  He
continued, "Well, I've got something here you have to see right
away.  Can I stop over now?"

=====================================================================

I squeezed a generous glob of the K-Y onto my finger, and
carefully positioned on her pink puckered rosebud.  I gave it a
few seconds to begin to liquefy, and then rubbed it in.  It's a
dirty job.  But somebody has to do it...

As my fingers first touched, then stroked, then penetrated her
tight ass, her legs opened, and the muscular ring relaxed.  I
added more K-Y, and the slippery substance coating my fingers
made it easy for other digits to play with her pussy, as her
rectum was readied and relaxed.

Finally, I got on my knees, between hers and applied a liberal
coat of slippery stuff to 'Ol Faithful.

"Ready?" I asked.... Hoping the answer would be yes, but not
really caring, because from this position her pussy was equally
available.... and we both knew that she was about to get fucked.

"I think so," she answered, as she rose up on her knees,
presenting those wonderful flared hips, those tight buns, that
deep wonderful cunt and her tight puckered back door.  "Just be
careful."

I moved forward, and placed "Ol Fathful's" head in the center of
her anus, and pressed forward.  I could feel the tightness, the
resistance of her sphincter holding me out.

"Easy....  Let me relax," she said.

"I'll just stay like this," I answered through gritted teeth.  I
wanted to drive it in, but that wouldn't be good for Candi.  And,
if it wasn't good for her, then why bother.... (Can you believe
that shit!)

I eased off a little, and felt her butthole relax a little, she
urged me forward, breathing shallowly in little sharp gasps, and
the head slipping in.  She groaned, and I froze.

"Just give me a second...  To get used to you back there," she
grunted.  I waited, and then she said, "Now...  Try it slowly."

I added another dollop of K-Y where we were joined, and pressed
forward.  I don't know if it was the extra grease, but
regardless, I glided in.  All the way in.

I felt her move, and asked what she was doing.  Her answer was to
cup my balls, and say, "While you bang my asshole, I'm gonna
diddle my clit and stick my fingers into my puss....  Like this!"
Then I felt her fingers almost touch me through the thin membrane
that separated my cock from her pussy.

It was a mind-blowing experience.  Fucking her in the ass, while
I steadied myself, with my hands on both sides of that gorgeous
butt, while she came again and again.  Her asshole was hot and
tight, and pulsated with her orgasms, and I blew my load deep in
her bowels as I felt her fingers even deeper in her pussy.

It was over more quickly than either of us wanted it to be.  But,
it was, and that was that.  We separated, and both collapsed on
the bed, kissing and clutching.  We had had each other every way
we could think of in the space of twelve or thirteen hours.  Now
it was time to come down off our mutual high, and get ready to
face the day, and whatever it was going to hold.

After we showered (together, naturally), and had a couple of cups
of dark brown speed, I wrote her a ticket for DUI to complete her
story and clipped one of my business cards to it, I drove her
back to her car at the Drum.

She came around to my window after she got out of the Chevy, and
said, "Thank you, Eric.  We better not do this again....  But, I
hope you don't mind if I call...."

"Call anytime, Candi.  I'd like to get to know you better."

"Eric," she laughed.  "You couldn't KNOW me any better if you
were my groin-acologist."  With that she unlocked her car,
climbed in and sat behind the wheel.

As I drove away, she was still sitting there, with her forehead
leaning on the steering wheel.

I was watching the other customers, as I used my pen to chase the
ice cubes around in my glass of DeWars, as I thought about the
night before.  Nothing like that had ever happened to me.  I was
glad it had, but I wasn't sure I wanted it to continue.  All I
needed was some crazy broad, with a great body, an insatiable
appetite for sex, and a jealous husband.  Besides, most of my
time was filled up with trying to solve the cases the street
bulls threw my way.

My attention had shifted to the booze as it made oily swirls
through the smoky amber, just like it always did.  I'd heard the
tap of high-heels, and unconsciously glanced up and smiled as
Janine carried a tray of fresh drinks to the table in the corner.
She always drew my attention.  It was her long tapered legs I
suppose, or maybe the way she filled out her blouse, or the
secret promise I thought I saw in her dark eyes when we flirted.

I'd been stopping in to have a drink almost every evening for
almost a year.  A nice enough place, but nothing special.  I
suppose it was a combination of their chili and Janine's muscular
calves that kept me coming back.  Maybe I'll see if she'd like to
go out this weekend, I thought, as I sipped my drink.

I was always coming up with brilliant ideas like that.  "Stop
smoking.  Stop drinking.  Start exercising.  Win the Lottery.
Write a book about some interesting case and make a million."  I
was a real fountain of great ideas.

The click of her heels on the hardwood floor brought me out of my
thoughts.  I looked up, and there was Janine.

"I almost said something earlier," she said, "but decided not
to."

"What's that?" I asked, as I stared at the way her heavily
starched blouse swelled over her full breasts.

"That I was surprised to see you in here tonight."

"Why's that? (See a brilliant conversationalist.  Two, two word
sentences, back-to-back.)

"I kinda thought, you friend in the tight blue dress would have
you tied up." she grinned.

"That's one thing we didn't try," I grinned back.  Can I ask you
something?" I asked in a more serious tone.

"Sure," she said, "but then I get to ask you something."

"Sounds fair....  Would you like to catch a flick or something to
eat, or something this weekend?  Ya' know I'm almost afraid to
ask you again......."

"I'd love to do something with you this weekend, Eric," she said,
running her wet tongue over her full red lips.  "Saturday?"

"Saturday would be great....  About 8:00?

She nodded, and handed me a napkin with a phone number on it.
"Now I get to ask you something....."

"Okay,"  I said.  "Ax away."

"I've been thinking a lot about reincarnation lately....  And If
you could be reincarnated as anyone or anything in the world...
Who, or what would it be?"

"I haven't really thought about, but I suppose...  How about as a
handsome Malcomb Forbes?"  (I was really quick).  "Since you're
the one who's given it so much thought...  What or who would you
come back as, Janine?"

"Mel Gibson's wife's pussy!" she answered, as she gave me a big
wink and turned back toward the bar.

"Janine!" I shouted.

She turned, and looked at me.

I saw her blush after I said, "I think your's will do just fine."