I was lounging on the couch in my media room, watching NASCAR on the big screen. There was a commercial on right now, and my mind was wandering. A knock on the front door brought me back to reality.

As I approached the front door, I heard a radio squak outside. I tried to peek through the sidelight glass, but it was frosted, so all I could see was a shadowy form close to the door, and a flashing coloured light in the background. Police? Why?

I cautiously opened the door. The officer had his back to me. [i]No[/i]. A pony tail of dark brown hair hung down to the middle of [i]her[/i] back. [i]Ladycop[/i]. About 5’9″.[i]Tall Ladycop[/i]. Her uniform pants were snug, but not really complimentary. Gun belt, bulletproof vest… Not very feminine. She said something into her radio and holstered it. I quietly braced for her to turn around, expecting a butch, unattractive look. She turned.

[i]Whoa! Was I wrong![/i] Even without makeup, she was stunning. Full lips, high cheekbones … very nice. But was her eyes that made the biggest impression. They positively sparkled. Somewhere between brown and hazel, and surrounded by long dark lashes. Even though she didn’t smile, her eyes did.

Officer… Brewster, it said on the velcro patch of her vest. Officer Brewster explained that the reason for her visit today was due to the escape of a prisoner in the area. She asked if it would be alright for her to come in and check around the back yard.

“Of course. Please do.” I stepped aside.

Officer Brewster followed me through to the sliding doors of the patio. “Please, stay here,” she said as she unsnapped the holster for her Glock. “I wouldn’t want to shoot you by accident,” she added with a smile, giving me a quick scan with her beautiful eyes. She slid the door aside and went out.

I watched from the doorway while she did her Rambo routine, checking the shrubbery, corners and utility shed, her right hand always on her right hip holster. She was all business, but she moved with such cat-like grace, it was pretty hot to watch.

Satisfied that no one was hiding, she relaxed, and said something into her radio. She was closing the holster for her gun when she returned.

“All clear. Thank you for you cooperation,” she said pleasantly as she stepped back in. She asked a few questions about how long I have lived here, which neighbors I know, etc. She finished with “and how many people live here with you?”

“Actually, I live here alone”. That was met with a mild look of surprise, then a tiny hint of a smile. I began to walk her out, while my brain was wracked, trying to judge the risk of hitting on a woman who carries a semi-automatic weapon. I decided on the subtle but direct approach.

“Officer Brewster, may I ask [i]you[/i] a question?”, I asked as we reached the front door.

“As long as it doesn’t pertain to the case, then yes”. Still all business.

[i]Okay, here goes nothing[/i]. “Is there a ‘mister’ Officer Brewster?”

Nothing. No reaction, no answer… nothing. Then I saw the sparkle in her eyes, for just a second, before she put her sunglasses back on.

“You have a nice day, sir” she said with a smile as she shook my hand and left. I watched her walk back to her cruiser. When she turned and saw me watching her, she smiled again, shook her head a little, and waved.

I closed the door. I really would have liked to see what was under that body armour. Oh, well.

About 2 hours later, I was again interrupted by a knock on the door. I opened it.

“Officer Brewster! What can I do for you?” [i]Perhaps I was premature in writing her off.[/i]

“I just thought you might want to know that the escapee is back in custody”, she said, professionally. She still had her sunglasses on. She extended her hand again. When she ended the handshake, I found myself with a folded piece of paper in my hand.

I was a bit taken aback. By the time I recovered, she was back at her cruiser. She paused, tipped her sunglasses down, and winked. Then she smiled, and was off.

I closed the door and quickly opened the note. “Call me. 8 p.m. 555—1221”. I looked at my watch. [i]Three hours. Three hours?! What am I going to do for three hours?! Shit.[/i]

I went back to the media room and started a movie from my extensive collection, hoping it would distract me. Good idea but mostly ineffective. I couldn’t get her eyes out of my mind.

At 7:59, I dialed her number. It rang three times.

“Hello?” Wow, that was not the ‘cop voice’ I heard earlier in the day. This voice was like honey.

“Hello… Uh… Officer Brewster?” God, I hope it’s her, not a mis-dial that just happens to sound sexy as hell.

“Yes, and please call me Emily.”

“Hello, Emily”, I said. [i]Cut to the chase[/i]. “Have you eaten? Would you do me the honour of meeting me for dinner?”

“The honour?” she giggled. “Where?”

I suggested a little place I knew. The food was good and it should be quiet there.

“Twenty minutes.” was all she said before the line clicked off.

Eighteen minutes later, I was standing nervously in front of the restaurant. I suddenly realized that I really only knew what she looked like in her cop gear, Sure, I would never forget her eyes, but it was dark out here. I heard footsteps behind me.

“Hands up, please” she said. It was her cop voice again, but at a conversational volume. I complied. She laughed. The laugh was more like the voice on the phone. I turned.

My mouth fell open. Holy shit! She had 4 inch heels on, so now she was about 6 feet tall. Her legs… Oh my god!! Long, strong and muscular. A burgundy coloured dress hung like a curtain from her hips. The dress was cinched around her slim waist, while a substantial chest resided above. A matching shawl wrapped her shoulders, concealing her cleavage. Her hair was down, and wavier than it appeared before. She was smiling broadly, sexy red lipstick on her sensually full lips. Mascara made her already long lashes even more impressive, and her eyes sparkled as always.

Emily laughed again, and reached up with her lovely hand to close my mouth. “Nice to see you, too”.

“Sorry”, I gestured to the door, “shall we?”

She walked in ahead of me, and my eyes were immediately drawn to her ass. Like I said before, her uniform pants did nothing for her form, but this dress… Wow! The word ‘sinuous’ comes to mind.

The waitress seated us, and we quickly perused the menu. Orders placed, we settled in to chat while we waited. After a few minutes, Emily shed her wrap. The effect stopped me in mid-sentence. I couldn’t help it. I know it’s not cool, but I looked right at her sexy cleavage. Not once but twice. Then back to her eyes.

Fortunately, all she did was giggle, toss her hair, and lean in, exposing her luscious chest to me even more. “Gotcha!” she said, giggling again. The food arrived.

For the second time in the last five minutes, I had to apologize. “Sorry”. I felt an explanation was necessary. “It’s just that… you are really not what I thought you would be”. A disappointed look crossed her face. I scrambled to correct the misunderstanding. “A pleasant surprise…believe me, a very pleasant surprise!” I again looked at her chest. She was smiling again. “I just never thought you would look like this…”

“… Under my uniform?” she finished the thought. I nodded. “Yeah, the gunbelt and bulletproof vest don’t exactly enhance my curves, do they? I also don’t wear Victoria…” gesturing to her chest, “…under the vest, for comfort reasons.”

She continued. “To be honest, most guys are pretty intimidated by the look.”

“I suppose that’s the general idea.” I offered.

“That would be correct. Also, most guys are a bit afraid of a woman with a gun” she said, shooting me with her finger.

I feigned being wounded and then laughed, as did Emily.

“I had that very thought, myself, ” I admitted.

“So what made you…” she trailed off.

I finished the bite I was chewing. “Your eyes. You have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen.”

Emily looked down, blushing at the compliment. When she looked up, her eyes positively glistened.

“You really know how to get to a woman!” she sighed. Then she smiled and looked away. She ate in silence for a few minutes, and I caught her stealing little glances at me. Finally she put her fork down abruptly and looked me straight in the eye.

“Listen… Why don’t we get out of here? Your place?” she suggested, biting her lower lip nervously.

“Do you follow me, or do we ride together?” I asked as I gestured for the check.

Twenty minutes later, she pulled her car into my driveway as I got out of my car. I whistled as she walked sexily over to me.

“Supercharged Mustang? At the risk of stating the obvious… You’re my kind of girl!”

Emily, just walked past me and leaned against the front door frame. The message was pretty clearly ‘I’m waiting’. I opened the door and we entered.

As soon as the door was closed, she was on me. She pressed me back against the door and kissed me. Gently at first, then with increasing passion as I returned the gesture. She grabbed my hand and placed it on her ass. With her heels on, I hardly had to bend at all to kiss her and fondle her firm ass. We made out like teenagers for about ten minutes, caressing each other wildly while our tongues intertwined. Emily finally came up for air.

“I could use something to drink”, she said, slipping from my arms and turning toward the kitchen.

I watched her ass sway sensually as she disappeared around the corner. I caught my breath and followed her. When I reached the kitchen door, she was bent over, peeking into the fridge.

I quickly stole up behind her and placed both hands on her hips. I ran my fingers around the smooth, firm curves of her ass, grinding against her as well. A moan came echoing out of the fridge.

She came up with a can of Pepsi in her hand. She looked me directly in the eyes as she pivoted away. With one finger, Emily pushed me back. She put the can down on the island, kicked off her shoes and hopped up on the counter, crossing her legs. She popped the can open and took a swig. She wiggled her feet at me, then put the can back down. Slowly, she uncrossed her legs and opened her arms to me.

I stepped into her arms, and she closed her eyes. We kissed again. Damn, she tasted good, and it wasn’t just the Pepsi. As we continued our embrace, her breathing began to increase with her passion. She had her hands on my head, pulling my lips to hers. I let her dictate the pace. Without warning, she wrapped hey strong legs around my hips and scooted her hips forward until her crotch was hard up against me. I squeezed her closer to my chest, feeling the fullness of her breasts crushed against me.

The combination of events was having a great effect on the contents of my pants, and given that only a few layers of fabric separated us, I’m sure Emily was fully aware of it. She pulled harder with her heels, grinding her crotch against mine. She pulled her head back.

“Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” she giggled, grinding her pussy on my hard bulge. [i]Perhaps this was a new way to do a pat down.[/i]

“I am ecstatic to see you, ” I whispered, kissing her up the side of the neck. That must have been on her list of favourite things, because she gasped, then moaned loudly.

“I assume this house has a bedroom?” she said between passionate ‘ahhhhs’.

“Actually,… it has… several,” I said as I trailed kisses across her collarbone.

“Well, we only need one… Ahh… or, at least,… Uhnn… one at a time!”

A few moments later, we stumbled together into the bedroom, still kissing, and collapsed on my bed. After another few minutes of necking, Emily rolled up on top of me and sat up across my hips. She wiggled her hips and jerked her thumb to the left.

“Bathroom?” I nodded. “I will be back in a minute or two. Get comfortable, if you know what I mean.” she called over her shoulder as she swayed her hips through the door.

A few minutes later, she was back. The dress was missing, but her bra and thong were a very similar colour.

“Oh man, I wanted to take that off you!”

“Well, if things work out, then you might get another chance,” she smiled as she slinked over to me.

“Jeez, no pressure there.”

Emily lifted the sheet and peeked under. I was naked, and my cock was almost fully ready.

“Now, that’s what I call comfortable,” she said licking her lips. She turned her back, pulling her hair forward. “Do you want to do the honours?”

“Absolutely!!” I said, reaching up to unhook her bra. The Secret Victoria was harboring was 34DD. On the way down her back, I hooked two fingers in the sides of thong and skinned it off her hips. She lingered beside the bed for a few seconds, allowing me a close inspection of her butt. ‘Spectacular’ doesn’t do it justice. Flawless skin… sensual curves… just magnificent. Then she turned, and magnificent suddenly became insufficient as well. The lips of her pussy pouted open, like the petals of a highly sexed flower. I glanced up, making eye contact though the gap between her equally incredible breasts.

Emily pushed me back on the bed and joined me under the sheets. Our lips met again. Her hard nipples pressed into my chest. She pulled her mouth from mine, and gave me a funny look.

“I never actually got the chance to finish my dinner, so, if you’d excuse me…” she said cryptically. Then she ducked under the covers, and the code was instantly deciphered.

I felt her hand around the base of my shaft, then her tongue ran up my length, and a warm wetness engulfed the head.

“Oh… My… God!” was about all I could say. Major understatement. I lifted the sheet and watched her head bob up and down on my cock. “Umm… Excuse me, Officer?… Umm… What are you doing?”

She pulled my rod from her lips and smiled up at me. “Well sir, I am checking you for dangerous weapons. I found one, and I am trying to make it safe, by unloading it. Need I remind you that anything you say can be used against you? ” She immediately resumed her work, sucking furiously.

[i]Anything I say can be used against me? Right.[/i]

“Oh… Please stop!… Don’t suck my cock like that!! ” I complained. Just as I hoped, she played along, sucking me harder and faster.” No matter what you do to me, I won’t tell you anything, Copper!!” She redoubled her efforts. I was about ready to ’empty the mag’ down her throat. “Oh fuck…”

Emily found my trigger and pulled it. My ‘weapon’ went off, round after round being chambered and fired. She swallowed, moaning with each gulp. Once she was sure I was safely empty, she squirmed back up beside me, licking residue from her lips.

“Just as I thought. Fully automatic. Definitely illegal.” She giggled.

I was trying to regain my senses, so I didn’t really respond.

“Oh and one more thing: ‘Copper? ‘Who are you? Edward G. Robinson? “she laughed and poked me in the ribs.

That made me laugh, senseless or not. “You try coming up with something good when someone is sucking your cock!” She held her luscious tits up to me. “Okay, I mean… You try coming up with something good while someone is sucking your clit!” She nodded, satisfied that I knew she was a woman. Like there was any way I could make that mistake.

“Don’t mind if I do!” Emily said, throwing the sheets aside and laying back with her legs spread wide. I rolled over between her thighs, ready to take up the challenge. Her pouty pussy glistened with excitement. She was shaved perfectly smooth. Her clit sat proudly at the top of her open lips, bright pink, and begging for attention. It was that attention I planned to deny her, at least until I felt the time was right.

I moved in closer, kissing her vulva gently. Whispering moans slipped from her throat. I pointed my tongue and circled the little rosebud of her ass hole. More moaning. I licked gently up her labia, first one side, then the other. I thrust my tongue into her pussy. I licked, I sucked, I nibbled, I kissed, I blew, I rubbed… in every nook and cranny, and on every bit of her pussy… except her clit.

For about fifteen minutes, I teased her. She went from moaning to screaming, and from merely wet to absolutely drenched. She even sought to take matters into her own hands, but when she tried to flick her now red and swollen little clit, I swatted her hand.

“Do I have to restrain you? ” I threatened. She may be the one with the gun and handcuffs in her purse, but I could always get out the duct tape.

Emily put her hands to work on her breasts instead, pinching, pulling and twisting her highly aroused nipples. She was hoping to make herself cum. She couldn’t take much more of this agony. If I wouldn’t touch her clit, maybe she could push herself over the top by playing with her tits.

She was panting wildly now, shrieking every time I licked her lips. Now I began to use my fingers more, thrusting two fingers into her, and she tossed her head from side to side, mumbling and groaning. I hooked my fingertips upward, pressing on the grainy surface of her g-spot.

From my viewpoint, between her legs, her excitement was clearly visible. Her stomach rose and fell raggedly with her gasping breaths. Further up, her huge breasts quivered deliciously, and her nipples looked about ready to explode, they were so erect.. I decided she had had enough. I braced myself for the blast to come. I mean…the blast of <i<cum.

I licked her juicy lips once more, then dipped my tongue deep into her again, as I had dozens of times previously. She wailed again, positively vibrating with lust. However, this time I allowed my tongue to continue upward, flicking her neglected clit with my tongue. Her wail increased in pitch. When I wrapped my lips around her love bud and sucked, she went off like a live round.

Emily arched her back, and one hand flew to the back of my head, and her thighs locked around my head. She screamed. “Ohhhhhhhhhh yessssssssssssss!! OhMyFuckingGod Yessssssssss!!” And her pussy let loose with a veritable tsunami of hot love juices, which I eagerly consumed as quickly as she could gush it out. Her scream gradually trailed off, but her mouth remained open, her head thrown back and her back arched. Her pussy twitched, and then she just melted, collapsing into a gasping puddle of limp flesh. Her thighs relaxed, and I freed myself from between her legs, wiping my chin with the back of my hand..

Emily was out like a light. The heaving of her beautiful breasts made it obvious that she was breathing, but she was totally unresponsive. I licked her nipples. Nothing. I kissed her. Nothing.

So I decided to just snuggle beside her and hold her until she regained her senses. I turned on the TV and held her in my arms. Her breathing returned to normal, and she slept with her head on my chest.

About fifteen minutes later, her hand moved on my stomach, followed a few seconds later by her head lifting off my chest. She looked at me bleary eyed., her hair tousled wildly. She tried to brush the hair out of her eyes.

“What happened? And what time is it?” she asked.

“It’s just before 11, and you, my dear, just had the biggest orgasm I have ever seen a woman have.” I replied.

“What?”, she wondered, then the fog began to lift from her brain. “Oh right… You were licking my pussy. You wouldn’t let me cum!” she smiled as she remembered. “Is there such a thing as a post – orgasmic hangover?” she asked as she teetered unsteadily toward the bathroom.

Five minutes passed. “If you are as good with your cock as you are with your tongue… This could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship… ” Emily said from the doorway. She had brushed her hair, restoring it to perfection. She stretched like a cat, causing her breasts to ride higher on her chest. A vision of sexiness. She considered her last comment. “… And I guess I should update my will and life insurance, because you could be fatal!” she laughed.

[i]When I wrote the first part of this story, ‘Arresting’ Officer, I was just starting to post my work, having rediscovered my creative side. I’d like to hope I have grown and improved since then, nearly three years ago, but I suppose that’s for you, the reader, to decide. Recently, a few readers asked if I had plans to continue this one, something I really hadn’t thought about.

Now, after three years, it’s almost like a brand-new story… So, here goes nothing. I hope you enjoy it.[/i]


I was sitting in my study, staring at the uncooperative screen of my computer. Despite my best efforts today, very little of the thoughts that swirled through my head had found their way through my fingers. As a result, I was feeling a little stalled.

When I felt this way, time lost its meaning.

I don’t even know how long I had been sitting there, but a familiar sound brought me back out of my stupor.

It was a whine. Not from a dog, although there was one in the house, downstairs somewhere. No, this whine was mechanical, and accompanied by a low rumble.

Emily was home. I stood up, and saw her Mustang, a Roush stage 3, pull into our driveway. I felt the same way I felt every day when she came home safely.

Relieved. Lucky. Thankful.

I was already on my way to greet her when I heard her voice.

"Davis? Honey? I’m home," she called. Her tone was happy. It wasn’t always the case.

Her face lit up when she saw me at the top of the stairs, and she opened her arms to welcome my hug. I embraced her, squeezing her tight.

Most of the time, that hug would have her soft, voluptuous chest pressed tight against me, but today, all I felt was body armour. While it wasn’t normal for her to wear it home, it wasn’t that unusual either, a result of simple geography. Sometimes, she was closer to home than her precinct at the end of her shift.

Despite the Kevlar, I held her close. My hands caressed her back, feeling the extra mags for her service weapon in the back pouches of her vest. My arm detected that weapon in the holster under her left arm.

"Glad you’re home, baby," I whispered in her ear, reluctant to let her go.

"Mmmmm, me too, honey," she said, softly. "Long day."

I had learned long ago, that asking her about that ‘long day’ was a double-edged sword. While I was interested in her job, there was plenty she couldn’t tell me, there was plenty she was trying to shield me from, and plenty I really didn’t want to know. It gave me a whole new appreciation for the police. They do an absolutely impossible job, day after day, for a public who don’t give a shit about them, largely because they, the public, don’t know how bad it really is out there.

Well, I, for one, now know how bad it is, and it scares the crap out of me. For almost three years, since Emily and I had met and fallen for each other, I had wondered, every time she left, if I would see her again.

She had warned me. She told me, very early in our relationship, that the prospect of loss was exactly why she had steered away from getting involved in the past. We had mutually decided to risk it, but still hadn’t actually tied the knot.

Things had improved, somewhat, since she had left the uniform division. Early on, as Constable or Officer Brewster, she had been on the front lines, driving a cruiser around by herself. In our area, cops didn’t have partners, like they do on TV. Apparently, we were better off than some parts of the country.


In reality? Not so much. I was reminded of it every day.

Like today, for example. Emily headed upstairs to change, and I followed, planning to help her. She let me help her off with her jacket, then turned to face me, smiling as she watched my eyes wander across the bulletproof vest that obscured her form.

There had been occasions when that same vest had been a sexual costume. Picture a beautiful, naked, buxom woman, riding your cock, while wearing such an anachronistic outfit as that armour. Modern necessity meets the most ancient of urges. Now I realized how foolish that attitude had been.

Peeling back the velcro that held it in place, I slid the vest off, then began to unbutton her blouse. She turned her back, letting me roll the fabric over her shoulders. There it was.

A reminder… of the day I came home in the early afternoon, to find her sitting on the couch. It was too early for her to be home, so I figured something was wrong, and I was right. The sling on her right arm confirmed it.

Six hours earlier, she had been called to the scene of a break-in. Backup was on the way, but hadn’t arrived before she was confronted by an armed suspect. Fortunately, she was faster than he was, and her aim was better. Her bullet hit a more vital area than his did. He would live, but was in no shape to keep her from cuffing him.

With one hand.

The other hand, her left, was incapacitated by his bullet. It went through her hand, on the way from the gun barrel to the front lawn of the house, via her left shoulder.

At the hospital, x-rays had shown that somehow, almost miraculously, the projectile had missed every bone in her hand, and nearly every one in her shoulder, merely nicking her clavicle. Her wounds were considered non life-threatening, and after several dozen stitches, and plenty of bandages, she was sent home.

My opinion of her injuries was slightly different. To say I was shocked, and scared shitless, would be an understatement. The bullet had gone through the velcro strap, above the kevlar. A few inches lower would have tested the vest. A similar distance to the right would have made it a moot point, probably killing her.

Emily took it all in stride. It was her first wound, but not news to her. She had plenty of colleagues that had similar stories, and spouses with similar reactions.

Now, as I bared her shoulder and was faced with the scar of the exit wound, I was wondering if I would ever get used to that feeling of dread. I kissed the blemish, which was much more distinct than the three other wounds. The front of her shoulder was much less upsetting, and her hand was hardly noticeable, but I still had to open bottles for her, until the strength returned.

I sat on the bed, and watched her put her weapon in the gun-safe we had installed in our closet. She was now nude, and it was an oddly sexy picture of her handling the gun to render it safely unloaded. With the safe door closed and locked, she walked into the bathroom. I heard the water of the shower start.

"Care to join me?" she asked, peeking around the door frame.

This was our life. We had made a deal, almost three years ago, that she would be as careful as possible, and that I would confine my worrying to while she was away. I wasn’t to let those fears contaminate our time together. To do so would be a waste of what might be a finite resource.

I stripped quickly, and walked in, finding her already under the warm spray. She smiled, still with eyes closed, and turned to snuggle against my chest, sighing as I wrapped my arms around her. We leaned against the shower wall, enjoying the warmth and closeness for a few minutes, before she tipped her head back, silently asking for a kiss. I was happy to comply.

Emily’s body was what first attracted my attention. Along with her sparkling eyes, her spectacular curves were hard to miss. Now, I considered it a very fortunate bonus, as I couldn’t picture my life without her in it.

"You know I love you, right?" I said softly, caressing her wet skin gently.

"Mmmmm hmmm," she nodded, rubbing her cheek against my chest. "I love you, too." When she kissed me again, I felt the stresses of the day melting away in her. I also felt her hand, which had found my semi-hard cock and was stroking it to a full erection.

She slipped slowly down my body, dragging her wet chest across my stomach, then lower, until her boobs were pressed against my thighs. I felt her tongue flutter over the head of my dick, and moaned.

"Oh, Emily, darling, yes," I sighed, as her mouth engulfed my cock slowly. If the shower was her way of unwinding after a difficult day, then this was her way of helping me do the same. She knew that I had been worrying about her, all day long, and this was a reminder that she was home safe,

Besides, she really liked giving me blowjobs, and she was very, very good at it. Along with every other aspect of sex, Emily was all I could hope for. I was lucky.

I watched her head bob slowly, feeling the exquisite combination of heat, wetness, and suction that marked her oral stimulation. She was moaning softly as she went, enjoying it nearly as much as I was, if that’s possible.

"Go ahead, baby," she smiled, using her hand for the moment. "Cum for me. You know I love the taste of your salty juice. Give me what I want." Having said that, her mouth went back to work on my cock, sucking expertly. Emily was virtually made to suck cock, with her plump lips and wide smile, that made it easier to accommodate my fat dick. She certainly knew what to do to me, and within minutes, I could feel my cauldron beginning to bubble.

I put one hand on her head, grabbing her wet hair for leverage. Her eyes opened, peering up at me through the spray bouncing off both of us, and she put her hands on my hips, signaling her surrender. She was letting me finish at my leisure, if leisure was what I wanted.

Some days, yes, but not today. Today, I was more interested in feeling the release, as quickly as possible. My hips began to thrust reflexively, gliding my cock in and out between her succulent lips. It was a treat for my eyes, as well as my hard meat.

Now with both hands on her head, I fucked her mouth deep, causing her to gag occasionally, but her hands, which had moved around to my ass, made no move to stop me. With a final lunge, I held her head close, and spewed into her throat.

"Oh, FUCK!" I grunted, blasting semen over her tonsils. She coughed, spitting up saliva and gooey sperm, then took over, clamping her lips around the shaft and sucking hard. My cock flexed over and over, and she moaned with each salvo that surged into her mouth. I leaned back against the tile, and let her slurp up the dregs, cleaning up the overspray. She released my softening penis, and stood up.

"Mmmmm, thank you, baby," she smiled, rinsing under the warm water.

"Oh, um, sure," I panted, bracing my unsteady stance by sliding into the corner. "You’re welcome. Anytime."


After our shower, we went downstairs and made dinner together. It was another of our little rituals, letting us be close to each other while we did something that needed to be done anyway. We took our time, cuddling and caressing each other frequently, and taking any excuse to rub together. It was lots of fun, and acted like extended foreplay.

So did the flirty behaviour during dinner. From our first date together, she had always found a way to rest her breasts on the table during our meals. She knew I was a sucker for those beautiful boobs, and took advantage of that knowledge. She would stretch her arms over her head, and arch her back, thrusting that magnificent chest out against the thin cotton of her t-shirt. Her pointy nipples punctuated the move, as did her mischievous grin.

Later, snuggled together on the couch, we relaxed and watched a movie. I had the good fortune of being involved with a woman whose taste in movies ran more in the action category, rather than chick-flicks. Occupational interest, I suppose, but it was another thing we had in common.

So was our scathing critique of many movies. As a writer, I could recognize places where the screenplay could have been improved, largely artistic tweaks. Emily had much more technical issues. Procedures were her pet peeve, along with gun related effects.

"I understand why they do it," she would smile. "It needs to be visually impressive for the audience, but I’ve been shot. It doesn’t look like that."

[i]Yes. I know you’ve been shot. Thanks so much for reminding me, as if that didn’t already race through my head every time a character takes a bullet. Especially a female character. An attractive female character, with long brown hair.[/i]

"Well, I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough," I yawned. "I’m going to bed. Are you coming?"

She arched her eyebrow, and gave me a crooked grin.

"Am I… cumming?" she giggled. "Not just yet, but I’d love to."

A few flicks of my thumb turned off the TV and DVD player, and I followed her through the lower floor, killing lights as we went. I was within reach of her sexy rump as we walked up the stairs to our bedroom, and didn’t waste the opportunity to get in a few gentle caresses. She enjoyed my touch, slowing her pace and swinging her hips in an exaggerated fashion. Her lounge wear was thin cotton, and did nothing to deflect my hands.

It also came off quickly, and when Emily reached up and peeled her top over her head, it set her breasts bouncing nicely. The shorts lasted another two seconds, leaving her nude and beckoning me toward her, as she took a position on her back in our bed.

During our earliest encounters, I discovered that my delicious Emily had a few kinks. She had taken a vibrator in her ass while I fucked her pussy, a form of double-penetration that did as much for me as it appeared to do for her. We had done the opposite, on occasion, with her taking a huge dildo in her pussy, and my thick shaft in her ass. She was very uninhibited.

Then there was the brass swivel in the centre of our headboard. Hanging from the loop… a gleaming, silver pair of handcuffs. Not just your garden variety, sex-shop handcuffs either. These were the real deal, exactly like the ones she carried on her belt while on duty.

When she surrendered control, it was with absolute trust, but tonight the cuffs would be left unused. Tonight, she wanted to be worshipped, and I was fine with that.

About an hour of blissful intercourse followed, as we rolled around on our king-sized bed in various positions, gently stroking and thrusting, while moaning our enjoyment of the act. This was pure love-making, and I felt her have at least three, deep, trembling orgasms before her tight, clutching pussy finally drew a huge load out of me. Afterward, we lay in the dark, holding each other close. My hand was absent-mindedly stroking her shoulder, over her bullet wound.

"Are you obsessing, my love?" she whispered, and rolled on top of me. Her eyes glistened in the ambient light as she looked down at me.

"Hmmmm? No," I smiled. "Okay, maybe a little. I can’t help it. I love you. I don’t want to lose you."

"I appreciate that," she said softly, and kissed me. "I love you too."


When I met Emily, I obviously knew she was a cop. I recall the day clearly, watching her slink around my backyard, looking for an escaped prisoner, pistol drawn. She was in uniform then, driving a patrol car.

I’m sure you’ve heard about those people who moved in next to any airport, then complained about the noise. Well, I’m not one of those. I knew what I was getting into, and who I was getting into bed with.

Then I fell in love with her, and she with me. It made that conscious decision to risk the danger a little more difficult to live with. It also made her impossible to live without.

So, with my emotional life firmly wedged between the proverbial rock and a hard place, I bit my tongue as much as possible, and tried not to be too obvious when I worried about her.

Three years together also meant that I now knew lots of cops. Dozens, in fact, and most of their families, as well. I wasn’t alone in my position as the spouse of an officer. Since the force was predominantly male, that made me a minority in the sisterhood. We formed a support group, official and otherwise, for each other.

I was very happy when Emily made detective. I know it’s a minor consolation, but it seemed less dangerous, somehow. Patrol officers are much more likely to happen upon a crime in progress, and as Emily can attest, sometimes that leads to gunfire. Detectives are normally assigned to a crime that has already occurred. They solve cases, using information. When they go to make an arrest, it is normally in force, rather than alone.

So, the promotion got her off the streets, in a way, but she was still a cop… and being a cop was always dangerous. We were reminded of that fact in a very undesirable fashion.

I was at home one morning, when the phone rang. Now, any time the phone rings while Emily wasn’t home, my mind immediately assumed, if only for a split second, that the worst had happened. My logical self dismissed that feeling as pessimistic, and that would be correct nearly every time. However, one of those calls had been bad news already. How many times does it have to happen before pessimism becomes a natural conclusion? I took a deep breath, and answered it.

"Hello?" I said. The voice on the other end was hysterical, sobbing, gasping, and distraught. It took me a few seconds to figure out who it actually was.

Celeste Robinson was the young wife of an equally young officer in Emily’s precinct. We had known each other for a little over two years now. She was part of the sisterhood, and an attendee at most of our official meetings.

Like most similar group-support organizations, the whole idea was to provide a safe environment, where one could openly share fears, concerns and feelings that needed to be let out. Emotions that can be overwhelming when faced alone tend to shrink to manageable levels when you have others standing beside you; even completely rational and legitimate fears, such as those common among the spouses of police officers. It was a place to bare one’s soul, without judgement.

Celeste had certainly done that, often. I knew things about her and her husband that I probably shouldn’t have. Since I was the only guy in attendance most times, I had been anointed an honorary female, and the girls didn’t hold back. I mean, not every conversation we had revolved around worrying about police issues. About the only time I was expected to be a man was when someone needed a hug, and it seemed I had held all of these women nearly as much as I held Emily, if for somewhat different reasons. It was a service I enjoyed providing.

So, when Celeste called, despite her hysteria, I knew what had happened. The details weren’t important right now. She was in need, and had called on me.

I sent Emily a text, telling her what I knew so far, and that I was going to spend some time with Celeste. She replied with a succinct ‘I understand’.

Now, I’m not an undisputed expert on women, but I don’t think a lot of wives would choose to have their husband holding a grieving widow so soon after the fact. Emotions were sure to be in flux, but Emily knew she didn’t need to worry.

There were three reasons she could be secure. Primary among them, was the fact that I loved her. I knew it, and she knew it. I wasn’t looking for anyone else, on the side or otherwise. Second, Celeste really wasn’t my type. My tastes tended to run taller, and more top-heavy; in other words, just like Emily. Celeste was quite petite, and while she was pretty curvy for a tiny woman, I thought of her more as a sister.

The third reason was voiced more as a joke, but still applied, despite its origins. Most people don’t take betrayal well, and in my experience, women hold that grudge longer than men do. While a man may be more likely to act on the anger, a woman’s wrath is frightfully personal. Having heard a woman once threaten to "cut his dick off with a butter knife if he cheats on me", I tend to believe it. With that in mind, why would I provoke a woman who regularly obliterates the ‘ten-ring’ from ten yards out, using her Glock 17? Do not poke the bear with a stick.

Lu Elissa – Sun Kissed Blonde
Posted – April 25, 2017

Gorgeous curves are the first thing you’ll notice about British hottie Lu Elissa, especially the way her miniskirt rides up. Once she has pulled out her huge breasts with diamond hard nipples and peeled off her panties, though, her landing strip pussy and giant tits will take center stage in your admiration.


Cassie Clarke – Sexy Fun
Posted – March 31, 2017

Delectable mom Cassie Clarke is 31 and horny as hell. She’ll show off her mounded boobs beneath her shirt, and then she’ll gradually peel off her clothes until her suckable nipples and her cock craving snatch are ready to go. Once her fingers start working that creamy cunt there’s no stopping until she cums!


Time to bring out the Big Guns as we both reached for our magic wands and I was to go first and She quickly got to work on my pussy teasing my clit with my very powerful wand It didn’t take long for me to reach orgasm but I held back as I wanted to cum together with Trisha but time to get to work on Trisha with her wand. Christina X

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In this clip i get myself all nice and worked up for you using my fingers on my pussy and. Once my pussy is nice and swolen, its out with the big guns. With a toy in my tight little ass and a huge dildo in my pussy, its not long before im squirting all over them. Enjoy Jolene x

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