Cahill

I could hear the din from the bar as I exited my SUV and I was still almost a block away. What a shame! I knew from long experience that would change as soon as my foot crossed the threshold. I tend to have that effect on people. I’m six feet six inches tall and I weigh an even 250 pounds—all of it broad shouldered muscle. My Body Mass Index at my last physical was less than four percent. My light brown hair is styled exactly the way it’s been for the past fifteen years—ever since I first joined the Navy. Sure enough, no sooner had I taken my first step into the bar than the noise died. When I turned left and stepped up to the bar the people there couldn’t back away fast enough. I took a stool in the middle of the empty space and sat down, waiting for the bartender to approach. “I’m not looking for any trouble.” “Good…neither am I. Give me a ginger ale.” He reached under the bar for a glass and some ice. Twenty seconds later he slid the glass in my direction. I pulled a fiver from my pocket and dropped it on the bar. He ignored it and walked away to draw a few beers and pour some wine. It looked to me like this was a pretty cheap crowd. Checking up and down the bar all I could see were longnecks and drafts. I reached into the lower left pocket of my cargo pants. Like almost everything else I was wearing they were a true deep navy blue. My heavy shoes were black as was my wide belt. My belt said as much about me as the bold white lettering across my chest. Just below the American flag over my heart were the letters that were my life—U. S. MARSHAL. On my right hip was my nickel plated .44 Magnum Colt Python, just behind two speed loaders in addition to the twenty-four rounds on the belt. On my left hip was my ASP Talon baton—every bit as deadly a weapon in my hands as the revolver. A pouch at the back of my right hip held my stainless steel handcuffs and its partner on the opposite side held my radio—my link to my backup team. I placed the photo flat on the bar as the bartender returned to me. “I’ll have another,” I said in a loud voice, continuing so I wouldn’t be overheard. “Don’t pick it up and don’t make a production of looking at it. I’ve been told that he comes here a lot. Is he here tonight? If he is and he escapes because you’ve given me away I’ll see to it that you’re arrested for obstruction of justice.” He gulped a few times but did as he was told, nodding slightly in response. I continued almost at a whisper. “If my nose is pointing to twelve o’clock, my right ear to three, the back of my head to six, and my left ear to nine, tell me where he is. Again, don’t point or do anything obvious and we’ll be fine.” He pretended to wipe the bar as he whispered, “About 4:30 with his back to you.” I picked up the reflection in the mirror then asked, “Red shirt with black and white stripes, looking away from me?” He nodded again. Now, in my normal tone of voice I asked, “Where’s the men’s room?”

Fredrick_Udele · Fantasía

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69 Chs

CHAPTER 55

I looked at her and my face must have said a lot because she laughed as she replied. "I have heard language like that many times, you know. I even use the word 'cunt' now and then and I think this is one of those times when it's appropriate. "Carry me upstairs and fuck the living shit out of my cunt. I could not possibly need a good fucking more than I do right now." Then she batted her sexy eyes at me and I knew I was lost before she even whispered, "Please…pretty please!"

I lifted her easily and with the utmost care as she wrapped her arms around my neck, her lips nuzzling my neck, as I walked her up the stairs to our bedroom where I placed her gently on the bed. I was removing her loose blouse as I whispered, "Damn, but I love you so much. You're such a beautiful person."

"No, I'm not," she wailed. "I'm fat and ugly." She was almost in tears when I began to laugh.

"You're neither fat nor ugly. You're almost six months pregnant and as everyone knows, pregnant women have a special glow that makes them even more beautiful than they normally are." I moved her blouse over her arms, dropping it on the floor, almost on Max's head. My hands moved next to her bra. It soon followed the blouse to the floor.

"Matt," she asked, "did you ever watch porn?"

I laughed again, howling this time. "You should already know the answer to that. First, I'm a guy; second, I spent four years in the Navy. Of course I've watched porn—probably not as much as some of the others, but I watched my share, why?"

"I wish my boobs were bigger like some of those porn actresses. They're too small. I want you to love them."

I silenced her with a long sloppy kiss before replying. "Lucy, you will never hear me complain about your breasts. I think they're beautiful…just like you. You have a slender narrow frame and you'd look ridiculous with huge breasts, just like a lot of those porn stars. Plus, a lot of those artificial breasts look as phony as hell. You'll never hear me complain about yours. They look perfect on you and I do love them." I leaned forward to kiss her again then I suckled at each nipple.

"You are such a terrible liar, but I love that you said that."

I tried to look as serious as I could when I responded. "I stand by my comment."

Lucy smiled as she moved up to kiss me again then she told me, "I want the top." I couldn't get my clothes off fast enough. I watched closely as Lucy gripped my cock tightly as she rubbed it up and down her slit several times before rising up to place the head at her entrance. The rapture she was experiencing glowed from her face as my organ slid slowly into her womanly core. "I just love the way my cunt feels when you enter me, Matt. My whole body just tingles with excitement." She had begun a subtle rocking motion even before she had finished the sentence. From then on she did nothing but grunt and groan as she worked up a real sweat riding me.

We were into it for at least ten minutes when I felt Lucy's body shudder. It was only a small one because Lucy never missed a beat, moving in perfect rhythm with me. The bedroom was cool, but Lucy was working my cock so hard that she was sweating profusely, her salty perspiration pooling on my abdomen. My wife's face showed her concentration and her ecstasy as she moved forward toward her second orgasm. Past history making love with Lucy told me that she was getting close. Her hips squirmed and rotated on my organ and her eyes closed automatically as her cunt took control of her body.

Suddenly, she stopped mid-thrust before exploding, her back arching farther than I would have thought possible as massive spasms coursed through her body. Her movements alone were more than enough to push me over the edge and into the abyss that saw me shooting seven times into Lucy's body. I was a hot sweaty mess when we came to rest and Lucy was no better. "Now, that's the kind of fucking I really needed. Thank you, Matt—it was exactly what I needed. I'm a mess, but I love you even more for giving it to me."

"I don't think I'm any better off than you are, my love. Should we take a shower before we go to sleep?"

"I don't think I could walk that far. Can you pull the blanket up?" I did and we went to sleep, even as I wondered how sticky we'd be in the morning.

>>>>>>

I was dealing with the bane of my existence—paperwork—just after 10:00 one morning when Sandra walked into the office. "It's Ingrid on the phone, Matt." I picked it up immediately. Ingrid never phoned me and I doubted that she would unless there was an emergency.

"Ingrid! What's up? Is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything is fine, but Miss Lucille is going into labor. Mrs. Bascomb is here with her and we have already phoned Dr. Murphy. You need to come home, but don't rush because she's many long hours away from delivering."

"I don't understand," I said. "She's not due for another month."

"Tell that to your daughter," Ingrid said as she laughed. I dropped everything and rushed out the door with Max at my heels. I couldn't help myself as I sped down Main Street to Bascomb Lane, the private road where we lived. I skidded into our driveway and was out the door seconds later. Max ran into the garage ahead of me and up the stairs to Lucy's side where he pushed his muzzle into her swollen belly. Lucy reached around her belly to pet Max as his head rested lightly on her thigh just as I reached the living room. Lucy was seated at one end of the couch and Marylou was at the other while Ingrid stood behind one of the chairs where Lucy's overnight bag rested.

Walking over to Lucy I bent to kiss her, even as I asked, "Isn't anyone concerned about getting to the hospital? Do we need to rush?"

Lucy pulled me down again for another kiss, this one even sweeter than the last, before replying. "Yes, darling, we do need to get to the hospital, but there's no rush. My contractions are now about twenty minutes apart so Dr. Murphy says that actual delivery won't be for many hours yet."

"Yeah…okay, but you're not due for another month."

"Take my word for it, Matt. That's just an estimate and if what I hear about the two of you making love is true that estimate could easily be a month off."

I looked at Lucy as she shook her head. "I never said a word."

"No, Matt—Jonathan and I can hear Lucy screaming most nights. I've told Jonathan that I'm jealous and that he'd better step up to the plate…or else!"

We were all laughing when Daryl rushed in. "Daryl's here to take charge of Max," I told the women. "There'll be a really big problem with him if Lucy and I are at the hospital all night." I put Max out to do his business while Daryl grabbed his bowls and food. I hotfooted it to the bedroom, returning with his bed in case Max had to spend the night with Daryl and Jasmine. I helped Daryl get Max into his patrol car, telling Max to obey Daryl. I knew he would. Daryl left a few seconds later after wishing Lucy and me good luck and asking me to call when I had some news.

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