Black Cat Got Your Tongue?


Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Fiction, .

Desc: Sex Story: Ultra Woman meets The Black Cat, will she win or loose...

"Damn, who could that be at this hour?" Abigail Stone thought as the phone by her bed rang mercilessly.

Normally a phone call, even at this late hour, wouldn't have bothered her that much. The problem with answering this particular call was that Abigail was practically naked and spread face down on her bed, weighed down by one hundred and ninety-two pounds of manhood. Not counting, of course, the six inches of which was buried deep between her legs.

As was her usual Friday night practice, Abigail, or Abby as she normally went by, had met her boyfriend, Sergeant Nick Hamilton for dinner and a movie. Tonight, as had become a pattern the last few weeks, the movie had been skipped in favor of a rumble under the sheets.

There were times, this being one of them, when Abby thought she might have acted a little too hastily when she finally gave in to Nick and invited him to her bed. The twenty-five year old hadn't been a virgin the night of that invite, but of course she didn't tell him that. Even in this new modern world of 1947, it was still important for a man to think he'd been the first. Still, it would've been nice if he'd come up with a ring on her finger beforehand to at least make it more respectable.

Those thoughts faded from her mind in an instant when she realized the phone had stopped in mid-ring. The caller had either given up or...

"Oh no, Nick!" Abby thought in a panic as she looked back over her shoulder and saw her lover had answered the phone. "I'm not that modern that I want to explain what a man is doing in my apartment this late at night, answering my phone!"

"Sergeant Hamilton," Nick answered the phone, not even bothering to pull out of Abby.

Unable to get out from under the large man, Abby could only watch as Nick listened silently to the call, nodding his head a few time and then finally saying he'd be right there.

"That was the desk sergeant at the Twenty-eighth Precinct," Nick said as he finally climbed off Abby. "The Black Cat has stolen the Star of China from the Metro Museum. The Chief wants me down there right away."

Abby sat up and looked at Nick with a stunned expression, barely hearing what he had said. All she could think of at this moment was that the people downtown had known exactly where to call him. He'd told his fellow police officers in whose apartment he was spending the night. They didn't have to be detectives to know what they were doing. Suddenly, Abby didn't feel so modern after all.

"Gotta go babe," the six foot two blond said as he zippered up his pants, "duty calls."

"That's it?" Abby said, now standing in the center of the bedroom, her well proportioned figure garbed in only stockings and a black garter belt. "Duty calls?"

"Hey, what can I say?" Nick said as he checked his 38 special before putting it back into his holster. "We'll have to make it another night."

Then, without another thought about her, Nick Hamilton was out the door.

"Damn him!" Abby cursed as she stared at the back of her apartment door.

The five foot seven brunette wasn't sure if she was angrier with Nick because he had left her unfulfilled or that he treated their relationship so casually as to make it an open secret. She had met Sergeant Nick Hamilton almost a year ago, after she had been assigned to the child welfare section of the Policewomen's Bureau. She had soon found herself taken by his rugged good looks and charm.

The Sergeant, on the other hand, had been immediately mesmerized by her impressive bust the first time he had seen her. Remembering the day they met, Abby cupped her breasts, thinking how men found them so fascinating. She knew they had opened many doors in her life, even the one which had led her to the Policewomen's Bureau.

Ever since she was a child, listening to the stories her father told at his knees, Abby Stone had wanted to follow in what was considered the family business. Her great grandfather had been a Texas Ranger. His son, the Marshal who tracked down Bad Billy Brown and the Walton Brothers. After the family had moved to the West Coast, her father and two of his brothers had become members of the Coast City Police, all rising to the rank of Lieutenant or better. Four of their sons now also served on the Force in various positions. It seemed only natural that she could do so as well. Or so she thought.

When Abby had first broached the idea of applying for a job on the Police Force, soon after her eighteenth birthday, both her Father and her Uncles had regarded the idea as laughable. She would be wasting her time, they'd told her. The Police Department only hired a small handful of women, usually old matrons to handle those few tasks that would be inappropriate for a man.

"Better you find yourself a nice job as a secretary or something," her father has advised her. "Something to keep you busy until the right man comes along. Just leave the business of crime fighting to the men."

After being turned down twice by the department, Abby had reluctantly done just that. That was until a manpower shortage during the war had forced the department to open the way for the recruitment of more women. Police officers carried a deferment from the draft, but enough of them had enlisted to cause a small shortage.

The Chief of Police decided to solve what he perceived as a temporary problem by increasing the size and scope of the Policewomen's Bureau. This would prevent a swelling of the ranks in the department when all those police officers turned soldiers and sailors eventually came home. A law put on the books after Pearl Harbor guaranteed them their jobs back with no loss of seniority or pay.

Members of the Policewomen's Bureau were paid less than Policemen and were only allowed to handle certain clerical and non- operational tasks. Still they were useful filling positions that would free up male officers for the real job of keeping the streets safe.

Applying for one of the coveted positions as soon as they were announced, Abby found that there was plenty of competition. The odds of getting one of the limited openings increased against her when her father, displeased with her decision, refused to use his influence on her behalf. He wouldn't stand in her way, he'd said, but neither would he use his influence to help.

On the day of her interview, Abby made a discovery that she knew would help her. Almost to a woman, all of the other applicants were what could only be described as plain looking. At least as compared to Abby. When she sat down for her interview with a Captain and two Lieutenants, she knew they were more interested in her chest than her office skills. They reasoned, she figured, that if they now had to put up with a woman in their previously all male domains, then it might as well be one who was nice to look at.

The newly hired Policewoman justified her use of her sexual attraction to get on the Force by promising herself that she would advance after that on the quality of her merits rather than the size of her boobs. It was a promise that she would find hard to keep.

The main reason for that inability to advance was that there didn't seem to be any second level for Policewomen. Issued a badge and even a gun, they had absolutely no patrol duties. For the first two years, Abby had been assigned as an assistant to the desk sergeant at the First Precinct, Police Headquarters itself. The work was hardly difficult, given the secretarial skills she had developed on her prior job. Still there was a certain fascination in being so close to the action and playing what she believed was a vital part.

That was until the war ended, and as the old song said, Johnny came marching home. In her case, Johnny turned out to be Officer Michael Patrick Mooney, a ten year veteran who was quite anxious to get back to his old job. A position that happened to be filled at the moment by one Abigail Stone. Hardly unique in her situation, Abby had been called into her Captain's office at the end of watch one Friday afternoon and politely informed that Officer Mooney would be returning to his old job come Monday morning.

"In fact, many of the women hired under the emergency expansion are being let go," he'd told her, "but that's not something you have to worry your pretty head about. In appreciation for all your family has given to the department, we've made sure a position has been reserved for you in the child welfare section."

Abby had been crushed. In the blink of an eye, she had gone from being a vital cog in the war on crime to being responsible to changing dirty diapers and baby-sitting kids passing under the responsibilities of the child welfare agencies. When she got home, her father had given her one of those "I told you so" looks, but thankfully didn't voice it as well.

One uneventful day seemed to just blend into another after that. That was until the warm sunny afternoon that she found herself standing in the same shoes that had been worn by three generations of Stones before her.

Abby had decided to walk home as it was such a nice day. She was headed down Lucas Boulevard when the alarm of the First National Bank filled the air. Drawn across the street by the disturbance, she saw two men racing out of the bank, bags of money in their hands. Without a second thought, she drew her firearm and called out for them to stop.

"Police!" Abby yelled as she assumed a firing position just beyond the curb. "Drop your weapons and put your hands up!"

The closest thief brought up his own pistol and fired, the bullet whizzing past Abby's head. Standing her ground, she returned fire, a single shot hitting her assailant dead center.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Fa/Fa / Fiction /