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 · Fantaisie

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69 Chs

CHAPTER 17

Lucy fed Max while I moved my guns into the living room and checked the doors for the night. Once I had put Max out we'd be all set. She met me in the shower, pressing her naked body into mine. I was fully erect as soon as I walked into the bathroom and so hard that it ached once we were under the hot water. "Do me, Matt. Take me right here in the shower. I couldn't want you any more than I want you right now."

I took Lucy at her word and lifted her easily, pinning her body against the rear shower wall. I moved her legs up and over my shoulders while she guided me into her slit and, finally, deep into her womanly core. The shower was small, but still I pushed my right foot against the opposite wall so I wouldn't drop the most precious thing in my life.

I drove into her slowly, letting the tension between us grow bit by bit until we were rutting like wild beasts. When Lucy finally came she screamed into the night and, much to my surprise, she squirts several times, bathing my abdomen and thighs in her aromatic nectar. I hadn't cum, but I didn't care even a little. I'd had more and much better sex during my two weeks with Lucy than I'd had in the past two years.

I realized that I had to be extremely careful with her now. She was out of it—completely and totally unable to coordinate her movements. I doubted that she could even stand. I slowly lowered her legs to the floor and held her while they slowly buckled under her weight. I quickly rinsed my body and carried my love out. Seated securely on the toilet, I carefully dried her hair, head, and body with my right hand while I supported her with my left. I gave myself a quick wipe with the towel and carried Lucy again, this time to the bed. She snuggled up to me as soon as I was on my back. I wrapped my arms around her slender body and was almost asleep when Max nudged my hand. I tousled the fur on his head for a minute or so then sent him back to the foot of the bed. I was asleep before he had lain down.

>>>>>>

I woke early as always to find Lucy smiling and looking down at me. "Good morning, my love. Mind telling me what you did to me last night? I just remember cumming something fierce and then I woke up here on top of you." She moved down for a quick kiss then continued with a giggle. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you," she said with a winning smile on her face.

"Well, you did miss a few things. You did have a fierce orgasm and you must have squirted about a gallon onto my abdomen and thighs. I think you squirted three or four times and each one was heavier than the one before it. Good thing we were in the shower or we might have been forced to sleep on the floor. You also passed out in the shower so I dried you off and gave myself a few quick wipes and carried you here into bed. Even unconsciously you snuggled up really close to me. That's about it."

"Wow! I can't remember ever squirting before you, and you said it was a lot?" I laughed, nodded and pulled Lucy back for another sweet kiss. We rose and showered then Lucy put Max out and I shaved. Once we had dressed I took Lucy out for breakfast. We went to the little coffee shop where I'd seen Haynes and his partner. What a surprise—he was there again in uniform at the counter and eating a humongous breakfast—an omelet with what looked like a couple of side orders of bacon and breakfast sausage. Lucy and I sat in a booth behind him with Lucy and me facing his back and Max opposite. I wanted to see if he paid his check this time. I was in uniform because of something I had to do today.

Lucy and I ordered and then sipped coffee while remaining almost silent so I could hear what Haynes was saying to those around him. "So I heard from my old man that they got this new guy to be chief and he thinks he's gonna reform me—make me run and lose weight. Well, he's got a lot to learn. I'll crush that little piss ant like a roach. Then I'll send him back where he came from. Who the fuck he think he is?"

I slid out of the booth and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned with a look of disdain. "First of all, I'd love for you to take a poke at me. If there's any crushing to do I'll be the one to do it. Second, how you speak when you're out of uniform is your business, but using profanity while in uniform will get you a suspension, at least. I warned your father that you needed to lose weight and shape up, but the rest is up to you. Maybe you don't really want to be a police officer, after all." I was about to turn back to the booth when I continued, "You can apologize now to everyone present for your profanity, but especially to my fiancée. And, I strongly suggest that you do a much better job cleaning and pressing your uniform. You look like a slob."

He swung around on his stool as if to attack me. I held my ID up for him to see in case he thought the uniform was a fake. "I'd love for you to try to hit me. Even a dope like you should know that striking a federal marshal is a Class A felony, punishable by not less than ten nor more than twenty years, so make your choice." He turned a deep shade of red then turned and started out the door. He stopped when I grabbed his arm, glowering at me until I said, "I believe you forgot to pay for your breakfast. Put a twenty on the counter. That ought to do it." He pulled the bill from his wallet and threw it onto the floor then he trudged his fat sloppy body out the door. I was surprised when the other patrons and the wait staff began to applaud.

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