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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 


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


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 


"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 


"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 


"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!"


"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-


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 


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 


"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 


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 


"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 



    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 


     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 


     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 


     "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 


     "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 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 


     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 


     When the detective finally got around to interviewing him, 

he was asked, "What were you doing when the officers apprehended 


     "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 


I learned the food reviewer probably took cash under the table in 

exchange for glowing reviews.  Our steaks were well prepared, but 


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 


"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 


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 


"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 


"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 


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 


     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 


"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 


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


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 


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 


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 


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 


"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 


"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 


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 


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 


"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 


"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 


"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 


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

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


"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 


"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 


"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 


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 


"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."


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