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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
Sin suficientes valoraciones
69 Chs

CHAPTER 9

She elbowed me as she answered me. "No, it's not bad at all, but you learned this morning that everything I do is under a microscope. There is nobody here who doesn't know me and now they know all about you, too. I'm sure that my father has checked up on you and he must approve because you're still here.

"And that brings me to the second topic for discussion. Would you live here if you could get a good job?"

"All I know is law enforcement, Lucy. That's all I ever wanted to do."

"Good, because we're going to be looking for a new chief of police in two months and none too soon as far as most of us are concerned. Our current chief has let things go for the past five years. He retired, but forgot to stay home. The City Council has agreed that we need someone from outside to shake things up. Think you might be interested?"

"I might be, but I'd want to think about it a bit. I'd need a decent salary and I'll have to find a place to live. Say, if you're so well off why are you living in a trailer?"

"Mobile home, Matt…mobile home--even though there's not much difference. The truth is that my house is being painted and I can't stand the fumes. I must be allergic because I always break out in a rash. The interior is done, but this rain has delayed finishing the outside. Okay, I've told you everything that matters about me now. I really am sorry for having deceived you. I promise I'll never do it again." She looked up at me with those puppy dog eyes that always drove me crazy with lust.

"Promise accepted, but I think we need to go back to the trailer now so we can become better acquainted."

Lucy gave me a sly smile followed by a sweet kiss accompanied by a lot of tongue before settling back into her seat. Ten minutes later I was holding the door to the trailer…er, mobile home for Lucy and Max. Max lay down in front of the couch while Lucy took my hand and led me to the bedroom. I wholeheartedly agreed with her idea of getting better acquainted.

She turned down the bed then came to me with a devilish expression on her face. "Want to try my ass, sailor? I've never wanted it, but I'll make an exception for you. What do you say? Hmmm?"

"Maybe some other time; I wouldn't want to hurt you and I'm pretty sure I would. Besides—didn't you tell me that my cock was just the perfect size for your pussy?"

"I did and it is," she whispered as she tiptoed up for another kiss while her hands began to remove my shirt. I dropped my heavy belt to the floor as Lucy began to lower my cargo pants. We were frantic for each other, so frantic that we actually took more time tripping over my pants and Lucy's diner uniform. Eventually, she managed to push me back onto the bed and by then we were laughing crazily. The laughing continued until we looked into each other's eyes and then as if by tacit agreement it stopped. I pulled Lucy's slender body into mine, her breasts pressing into my muscular chest as her soft plump lips devoured mine. I was concentrating on holding Lucy so I was a bit surprised when she gripped my cock and led it to her gushing pussy.

She broke the kiss a few seconds later to whisper, "It was taking you too long. I didn't think you'd mind."

"Yeah; like I'd ever object to making love with you. It's probably the best thing I've ever done."

"As much as I love hearing that I have to disagree. Bringing criminals to justice is the best thing you've ever done. I heard on CNN about what you did in St. Louis, arresting those two rapists all by yourself and with no shots fired and no innocent bystanders injured. I do have to say though that this is really special. Oh, Matt! Oh, dear God that is so good. Do me, Matt. Harder! Harder!"

Lucy wanted it harder and I aimed to please. I drove into her with increasing speed and force, lifting her several feet into the air with every thrust. My hands on her butt could feel the tremors emanating from her cunt. They built slowly but surely to what became a massive orgasm—undoubtedly the biggest I'd ever witnessed. I felt great knowing that I was able to give Lucy this wonderful experience.

When she came it was sudden and powerful. I held onto her for dear life as convulsion after convulsion ripped through her body. Somewhere in the middle of it she bathed my abdomen in what seemed to be a gallon of her ejaculate. It was the very first time I had ever made a woman squirt, although it was more a flood than a squirt. She was just coming down when I blew with such force and such volume that every thrust forced semen from her vault.

I was breathing hard when I looked up at Lucy and I was shocked at what I saw. Lucy had passed out, bringing a level of truth to what the French call "la petite mort" or "the little death." I remained there with Lucy lightly snoring on my chest for more than fifteen minutes until she began to stir. It was during that time that I realized how perfect Lucy felt for me.

She seemed confused as she slowly regained control of her senses. "What happened, Matt?"

"Well, to start with you had the most incredible orgasm."

She giggled as she said, "I think I remember that part."

"Yeah, well—do you recall squirting all over me? Although I have to say—it was more of a flood than a squirt. We're going to have to change the entire bed before we go out. Then you passed out. I was holding onto you so tightly I half expect you to have bruises on your butt and back. That's how wildly you were thrashing about."

"It must have been pretty good because I feel just wonderful right now—probably better than I've ever felt in my entire life. Can you understand that?"

"I can because I'm feeling exactly the same way." I kissed her then and pushed her up so we could shower together, change the bed, and throw the linens into the washing machine. It was after six when I led Lucy out for dinner.