textfiles/sex/EROTICA/B/brkndrum.txt

Archive-name: Affairs/brkndrum.txt
Archive-author: Hagar Poppa Dux, FAO Friend
Archive-title: Broken Drum, The


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."

--