Chris does some under the covers work for his policewoman friend.
Chris set the cruise control on the car and settled back in his seat. It was an easy thirty minute drive to the airport in the sparse traffic of the four lane highway. His mother, Heather, was in the passenger seat. She was wearing navy slacks and a grey silk blouse. The silk material draped nicely over her generous breasts. She pulled down the sun visor and checked her face in the small mirror. She ran a comb through her hair and pulled her bangs into place.
"You look great, Mom," complimented Chris. She really did - in her mid-thirties, Heather was a knockout.
"Thanks, honey," she said, dropping her comb into her purse.
"I wish you didn't have to go on this trip," said Chris as he reached across and rested his hand on his mother's thigh. He slid his hand farther and gave the inside of her leg a gentle squeeze. Chris had a week before he would start college. He had quit his summer job and he had been looking forward to just chilling out for a few days. Chilling out and nailing his mother several times a day that is. His girlfriend, Cindy wasn't available; she had already left town for her school.
Heather put her hand on her son's and snuggled it into the warmth between her thighs. "I'm sorry honey, but it's an important client. I'll be home before you know it."
"You know," Chris said, checking his rearview mirrors, "you could give me a little going away present."
"Oh, and what would that be?"
Chris unzipped his fly and pulled out his half hard cock which began to fill out and stiffen.
"Chris, it's daylight. Someone might see us."
"Come on Mom, there's practically no traffic. And you know you like a little extra excitement," Chris said with a grin.
Heather couldn't deny that. Not when she was committing incest with her son. She watched as his cock head lifted and quivered in the air above Chris' flat stomach. He was like some sort of sex god. His cock was simply huge and so was his sexual stamina. He easily kept his mother and girlfriend - two hot women - more than satisfied.
Chris reclined his driver's seat a notch. He took hold of the bottom of cock and waved the rest of it in the air, grinning at his mother. "Oh, alright," she said. "But you owe me big time when I get home."
"I'll be happy to return the favor," Chris said, as his mom fitted her lips over his cock head. He sighed in contentment. Heather couldn't get much of his huge member in her mouth, but she certainly knew what to do with it. Somehow she managed to keep either her tongue or lips in constant contact with the sensitive parts of his dick.
A couple of cars passed theirs without their passengers giving Chris or Heather a glance, but then a tall SUV drew even with their car and suddenly slowed to keep pace. Chris looked to his left. There were four teenage guys in the car and all but the driver had their faces plastered to the windows. They were watching the back of Heather's head as it bobbed up and down on his cock. The guys gave Chris a big thumbs up sign, but then they had to move on as other cars were coming up behind them.
Chris could feel his orgasm coming on. "Almost there Mom," he gasped. Heather doubled the force of her sucking and tickled the head of his cock with her tongue. "Oh shit," moaned Chris. It felt as if the end of his cock had split open when his cum erupted. He pumped a dozen shots of the creamy stuff into his mom's eager mouth. Heather managed to take his big load without losing a drop.
At the airport, Chris helped his mother unload her bag from the trunk. "Chris, why are those boys staring at us?" she asked.
Chris glanced over his shoulder. It was the four guys from the SUV. "I guess they're four horny guys looking at a hot babe. They probably can't help themselves."
Heather looked at her son with suspicion, but she didn't have time to pursue the matter. She gave Chris a quick, hard kiss on the mouth. "I'll see you in a few days," she said as she turned and left.
Chris waited until she was several steps away and then said, "'Bye Mom," in loud voice. She waved bye without looking back and he turned to get into his car. As he drove off, Chris laughed at the four teens at the curb. Their heads were bouncing back and forth from him to Heather like they were watching a tennis match.
At home the next morning, Chris stretched out luxuriously on the couch. He grabbed the remote and started flipping through the television channels. He had a week before he started college and he intended to do as little as possible. He had finished, that is, he and his mom had finished all his preschool shopping. He had most of his stuff packed and ready to go. He had quit his summer job and now he didn't have a care in the world. Well, maybe one care - he'd been up for hours and he still had his morning erection. He reached over and adjusted his cock to a more comfortable position. It was his mother's fault of course; she was away on a business trip, otherwise he would have banged her once or twice before she left for work. Well, there was always his trusty right hand.
His hand slid up the long length of his massive cock. Just as it bumped into the bulging head, he heard a bell ring. Chris looked down in stunned surprise at his cock, and then the ringing sounded once more. It was the doorbell. He jumped up and pulled his sweatshirt down over his cock. It was sticking above the waistband of his shorts.
Chris opened the front door. An attractive woman with ash blonde hair who looked to be in her mid-thirties was standing there. "Sergeant Glasson, hello," said Chris. "Don't tell me I'm a suspect again," he said in a worried voice. Earlier that summer, he had been a suspect in a murder investigation. (see: Chris and the Older Women)
"No," she said hesitantly. "Actually, I'm here on a personal matter. I was hoping you could help me."
Yeah, I'd like to help you with my personal hard-on, thought Chris. He'd had a couple of sexual encounters with the attractive policewoman during the time they'd been involved in the murder case. "Anything for you, come on in."
Glasson entered the house. She was wearing a navy blazer over grey slacks and a plain, white cotton shirt. The fitted blazer managed to accent her narrow waist and bulging breasts. She and Chris sat next to each other on the couch. After some small talk, she reached into her purse and pulled out a wallet sized picture. "This is why I'm here," she said. She handed the picture to Chris. It showed a young woman who looked as if she might be Chris' age. She was rather plain looking, with limp brown hair and dark eyes.
Chris studied the picture. "I don't know her," he said. "Who is she?"
"Let's just call her Jane Doe for the time being. I'm sure that she's not going by her real name." Glasson reached into her purse once more and pulled out a video tape. "If you can play this, I'll explain further."
Chris took the tape and inserted it in the VCR. He fiddled with the remote and then handed it to Glasson. "Thanks," she said. "I've been searching for Jane off and on for about three years. It's not a criminal investigation, just a personal matter; her family is worried about her. I wasn't having any luck until last week when a house burglar got busted. In his loot that was booked into evidence was a bunch of porn tapes. Cops will be boys of course, and the tapes got played down at the station house."
Glasson punched the play button on the remote. A bunch of young people moving to a driving dance beat appeared on the screen. The camera roved around the dance floor. The women were uniformly beautiful and they didn't mind showing off either. They lifted their tops to reveal all shapes and sizes of tits. Some ground their hips as they pulled up their short skirts to show barely covered pussies or shapely asses.
Glasson froze the picture. "Here she is."
Chris studied the screen intently. "Are you sure that's her?" he asked. "That girl has blonde hair." She also had some nice tits with perky nipples. Chris' cock agreed with him, it was beginning to ache.
"Not her, Chris, the girl on her left."
Chris dragged his eyes away from the buxom blonde. The girl on the left had been caught full in the camera's lights. She was carrying a drink tray, laden with full glasses. She was obviously Jane Doe. "Oh, yeah I see," said Chris.
"It looks as if she's working there. The trouble is, where is there?" said the sergeant. "If you run the tape to the end, you find that it's produced by a company called Torrid Video. That's an outfit that produces and sells porn tapes. It's down on Wells Street."
Chris shrugged, "OK, is there some reason you don't just flash your badge and ask them?"
"People like that comply with the letter of the law, but they usually don't want to do us any favors."
"And I suppose that you want to send poor, innocent me into that den of iniquity?" asked Chris in a shocked voice, although he had a sly grin on his face.
"You're hardly what I'd call innocent," said Glasson. "But you're right, I'd like for you find out where this tape was made. Let's watch some more of it." She punched the remote and the people on the screen came back to life. There was more tape of babes flashing their stuff, and then the scene changed and couples began to get in on the act.
"Look at those two," said Chris. There was a young woman on the dance floor who must have been over six feet tall in her spiked heels. She had blonde hair down to her butt and high tits that must have stood out a foot from her chest. Her partner was on his toes trying to maintain a heavy kiss. At the same time he had one hand on her ass while his other hand pulled up her micro-mini skirt and dived into her pussy. The couple slowed their dance as the guy's fingers continued to fondle and rub at her clit. Pretty soon they had stopped moving on the dance floor at all. She was draped over his shoulder with her hips humping his hand. The hot couple seemed oblivious to the crowd who had gathered around them and cheered them on. Suddenly, the woman threw back her head and arched her back. The guy buried his face in her tits as his hand thrashed wildly at her pussy. She came in a big way as the crowd gave them an ovation.
"Wow, that's pretty hot, doing right there in public," said Chris. He was glad that his cock wasn't wadded up in his shorts, or it would really be hurting by now. As more tit baring young women showed on the screen, Chris put his arm around the sergeant's shoulders and rested his hand on her breast.
Glasson looked at Chris' hand and then she looked him in the eye. "I take it we're alone?"
"Oh yeah," said Chris. "Mom has gone on a business trip."
Glasson didn't say anything, but she didn't shrug off Chris' hand either. He used his free hand to sweep the hair of her face, and then Chris ran the tip of his tongue around the shell of her ear. Glasson shivered and said, "I... uh, made up some fake ID's for you, but I kept your first name as Chris so it wouldn't be so confusing."
"That's good thinking," murmured Chris as he softly kissed her ear and cheek.
Glasson tuned her face to his and suddenly they were kissing with open mouths. Their tongues converged even before their lips touched. The kiss went on as Chris played with her breasts and her hand traced his cock from bottom to swollen head.
They broke off the kiss and then it was a race to see who could get rid of their clothing the fastest. Chris stood there naked, as Glasson's skirt joined her shoes and panty hose in a puddle on the floor. He thought she looked sexy as hell as she stood there in only her shirt, with her hair mussed, and her long, smooth legs spread. His cock gave a twitch and a spurt of precum flowed over the head of his dick.
Glasson gave Chris a shove and he sat down heavily on the couch. She straddled his thighs and ran her hand up his cock, gathering precum on her fingers. "Let's not waste this stuff, shall we?" she said as she used the clear liquid to lubricate her pussy lips.
"Don't worry," said Chris. He gave his hips a twitch and more precum practically shot into the air from the tip of his cock before the stuff settled back to a steady flow. "There's more than enough."
"I see," she said, and rubbed the stuff all over his cock head. She lifted her hips and levered his cock upwards. Then she lowered her hips, squirming with her pussy around on his cock head until it popped inside and Glasson could feel inches of hard dick sliding up her cunt.
"I just can't get over how huge you are," she moaned. She began to move her stuffed pussy up and down on his cock. Chris pumped his hips up to hers and soon the room was filled with the soft moans and groans of two people fucking. Chris usually had great control, but this was his first orgasm of the day and he was unable to hold back when her third orgasm hit and her pussy tightened on his flailing dick. He shot a dozen wads of cum up her hot pussy and his cock was still having tremors as they both fell asleep on the couch.
It was the next day that Chris headed to the address of Torrid Video. The company ran an ad in the newspaper everyday looking for both male and female "models". It had taken only a minute for Chris to set up an appointment.
At Torrid Videos Chris stepped into a room that looked like a lot of reception areas. There were some uncomfortable looking plastic chairs and a table filled with old magazines. A lady sat a desk at the far end of the room. She looked up from her work as he entered. "Can I help you?" she asked.
"My name is Chris... uh, Pool," he said, stumbling over the false name that Sergeant Glasson had given him. "I have an appointment."
The woman peered at him over the rims of her reading glasses. She picked up a clipboard and handed it to him. "Fill this out," she said, gesturing at a form on the clipboard. As she leaned forward her enormous bosom threatened to knock stuff off her desk. Chris figured that she must have been a pretty hot item, about thirty years ago.
He finished the form and returned it to the well endowed lady. She looked over his answers and then put the paper in a box on her desk. "OK, let's get a few pictures to see what the camera thinks of you. We'll go down to one of the studios." She stood up and led Chris through a nearby door. They passed several offices with people working pretty much as they do in any business. "My name is Rhonda," the buxom lady said as they went through another door and into a studio. "Just stand over here," she directed, and Chris stepped in front of a red backdrop. Lights came on and Chris blinked his eyes against the glare. "Stand up straight and smile," said Rhonda's voice from beyond the lights. Chris did as he was told. Flashes of light from a strobe told him that his picture was being taken. "Turn slowly," said Rhonda and she took more pictures as Chris turned in place.
"OK, now take off your shirt." Chris complied once more. "Well, someone's been working out," said Rhonda with admiration in her voice. Chris was bit over six feet tall, with a body that any athlete would envy. Soon he was down to posing in his underwear and then Rhonda asked him to remove his skivvies.
Chris pulled down his shorts. His flaccid cock arched out from his groin and lay against his well muscled leg. There was silence as Rhonda forgot about the camera and just stared. "Oh my," she finally managed to say. "Is that thing for real, because if it isn't we'll find out pretty quick."
"It's all me," Chris said. He shifted his weight and the big cock rolled from one leg to the other.
Rhonda quickly took several more pictures. "I'm going to show these to my boss. It's a digital camera, so this won't take but a minute. There are some robes in a closet over there; you can throw one on if you like. I'll be back shortly."
"OK," said Chris as Rhonda disappeared through the door. He looked around for the closet that she had mentioned. He walked further into the studio dodging cables and light stands. He passed by a wall that was propped up by some lumber and found himself in a bedroom set. There was a bed and bedside tables as well as other furniture. He turned and saw a closet door. He wondered if the door was as fake as the wall, but when he opened it he found a dozen bathrobes in various sizes, all fresh from a laundry. Chris picked one out and put it on. He took a seat on the bed to think things over. Rhonda was going to bring her boss in here. He was probably some fat, cigar chewing old dude who, Chris thought, would demand to look at his penis and no telling what else he would want. I'll just have to find out where they made that tape for Sergeant Gleason, and then get the hell out of here, he told himself.
The door to the studio opened and Chris heard Rhonda talking to someone. "He's probably on the bedroom set," he heard her say. Chris stood just as Rhonda and her boss came around one of the freestanding walls. "Here we are," said Rhonda. "Chris, this is Miss Smith, she's the head of Torrid Video.
Miss Smith, the boss, turned out to be about as far from being a cigar chewing male as you could get. In her heels, she was almost as tall as he was. She had auburn hair that fell past her shoulders. Her pretty face showed perfect white teeth when she smiled and said, "Hi, Chris, please call me Mary."
Chris took the hand she had offered and shook it. "Hello, nice to meet you," he said, smiling into her blue eyes.
They did some chitchat about the weather and the traffic, and then Mary got down to business. "So you want to do adult videos, or stills or what?"
Chris saw his opening and dived for it. "You know, I was looking at a video with a friend the other night; there was a lot of dancing and girls flashing the camera. I saw that the tape was produced by your company. That looked pretty interesting."
"Yeah, that's a club. My partner runs it. We don't usually pay anyone for that stuff. College kids get drunk and can't wait to show off." Mary looked thoughtful and then said, "The place is pretty exclusive. I can get you in, but I was hoping that you could help me out today."
"Today?" said Chris.
"Yes, we were supposed to shoot some footage for a commercial, but complications arose. Or maybe I should say that they didn't arise. The man in the commercial has a great body, but he's about as gay as they get. He can have an erection only if his boyfriend gives it to him, and they had a big fight last night. This guy couldn't get it up today with a dozen blow jobs." She put her hand on Chris' arm. "So I would be really grateful if you could help out."
Chris resisted the temptation to agree with anything she wanted. He managed to say, "I don't know. What would I be doing?"
"It'll go on our adult tapes. You and I will be in the background, making out on the bed in a hazy, dreamy kind of picture, while the announcer sells an herbal supplement."
"You and me?" Chris asked with a smile.
"That's right," she squeezed the hard muscle of his arm. "you get me plus a thousand dollars for your trouble."
And the name of that club, thought Chris, which I bet I won't get if I say no. "Well, I guess I can't turn down that offer. What do I do?"
"Thanks Chris," she said with a big smile. "If you'll just sit here, I'll get everything moving." He resumed his seat on the bed. Mary left, but Rhonda stayed behind. She began barking orders into a cell phone. A minute later three guys showed up. They ignored Chris as they set up lights around the bed and positioned a heavy duty looking video camera to capture the action. When the flurry of activity died down, Mary returned. This time she was wearing a blue silk nightgown and slippers.
"How's it going?" she asked one of the men.
"We're ready for the lighting test," he replied.
She turned to Chris and said, "Excuse me for a second," indicating that he should get off the bed. Chris stood and stepped aside. Mary nonchalantly slipped out if the nightgown and handed it to Rhonda. The only things she had on now were her slippers and she kicked them off as she climbed on the bed. She propped up on her elbow and looked at the camera. "How's this?" she asked. A low whistle came from one of the men. "The lighting guys, the lighting," Mary admonished the crew, but she said it as if she appreciated the compliment.
Two of the lights were moved a fraction of an inch. One of the men said, "That's it; you're perfect." That's the truth, thought Chris. Mary's slim body had almost flawless skin. Her breasts probably weren't real, but they looked great - full, with perky nipples.
"OK guys, we've got a new actor here, so let's clear out and give him some breathing room," Mary said in a businesslike tone. There were some mutters and grumbles, but the men vacated the studio. Rhonda was still there but she disappeared behind the camera and lights.
Mary patted the bed beside her and smiled. "Let's go," she said. Chris sat on the bed and swung around until his face was only inches from hers. "It's just you and me. You follow my lead, OK?" she said in a whisper.
"OK," Chris croaked.
Mary gave him a reassuring smile. She reached out and put her hand behind his head and pulled him closer until their lips touched. It was a chaste kiss that grew in intensity until their tongues were thrashing about. Mary broke the kiss a couple of times only to resume it by letting her tongue lead the way to Chris' mouth.
Chris had been a bit worried that he might have trouble getting it up in these circumstances, but Mary's erotic tongue dance took care of things. His cock inflated like a balloon. Its head peaked out of Chris' robe and poked at Mary's thigh.
"Time to take off that robe," she said with her lips against his.
Chris broke their wet kiss and sat up in bed. He struggled with the robe, but soon it was on the floor, out of the way. Mary was lying on her back, and when Chris turned to her, she pulled his head down to her chest. "Kiss my tits, play with my nipples," she whispered. Chris laved her breast with his tongue. He sucked her nipples into his mouth and massaged them with his mouth and lips. He eased his hand across her taut tummy until his finger slipped into her pussy. She was already wet so Chris slid in a second finger, and began to fuck her with his hand.
Mary crushed his lips to her tits and moaned, "That's it baby, finger-fuck my pussy."
Chris didn't hear any instructions to the contrary, so he continued to slip his fingers in and out of her pussy, and he slid his thumb across her clit until her hips came off the bed and she climaxed. By then Chris was more than ready. His cock was streaming clear precum. He was about to climb between Mary's slim thighs, when she said, "No, turn this way and lie down." They maneuvered until Chris was on his back and the camera was shooting almost over his shoulder. Mary straddled his hips and pulled up on his cock until it was lodged against her pussy lips. She rode her clit up and down the stiff shaft until she came again.
"I can't believe what a big, stiff dick you've got," she said as she eagerly stuffed the head into her sloppy wet pussy. Mary leaned back, her breasts thrust forward proudly as she rocked her hips and rode his dick to another climax.
She collapsed on his chest and said, "Go for it baby. Tell me when you're about to cum." Chris didn't need any more urging. He shagged his hips and plunged his stone hard cock into her pussy.
In a minute he gasped, "That's it, I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum!" To his surprise, Mary jumped off his dick and grabbed it with both hands. She held it straight up and pumped it frantically. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Chris was disappointed that he didn't have a hot cunt or mouth to get him off, but mostly he just wanted to shoot his load.
Mary jiggled her hands just under the swelling head of Chris' cock. "Come on, Chris. Come on baby," she chanted. She was surprised when a spurt of cum shot a foot into the air and then splattered down on his stomach. And she was absolutely amazed when that happened ten more times, followed by still more cum that streamed out of his cock and washed over her hands.
When Chris finally stopped his torrent of semen, Mary dropped his cock and jumped off the bed. A towel appeared from beyond the lights and she used it to wipe off her hands and arms. "Damn, I've never seen a load like that before. Be sure that Rhonda has your phone number before you leave." She had her robe back on and was out the door before Chris could think of anything to say.
Another clean towel landed on his stomach, and he heard Rhonda say, "Get dressed and then see me out in the reception area."
A few minutes later Chris made his way back to Rhonda's desk. She handed him a check for the promised thousand dollars. "And this," she said as she handed over a business card, "is the name and address of the club you wanted. I wrote a note on the back. It'll get you in the club; just ask for Charlie, he's the manager."
Chris put the check and card into his wallet. He had gotten laid, pocketed a thousand dollars and accomplished his goal for Sergeant Glasson. He should have been satisfied, but he had to ask, "Did I do OK in there? I mean she just jumped up and left."
Rhonda gave him a frank look, "What did you expect? It's all business to her." She looked around as if someone might overhear. "But I'll tell you one thing," she intimated.
"We had more than enough footage for the commercial after the first five minutes. The rest of the time, I think she was just having fun."
When he returned home, Chris reported to Glasson. He skipped over ninety percent of his visit to Torrid Video, but he did give her the name and address of the club. "That's great, Chris," she said over the phone. "I hope it wasn't too much trouble."
"No trouble, anything for you," he said, smiling broadly to himself.
"I'm sure I can make it up to you," she said in a voice that implied another rendezvous with the beautiful policewoman.
"I'm sure you can," said Chris.
"Meanwhile," she said in a more businesslike voice, "I am swamped here at work. Why don't you go to that club and take a look around? Take that picture I gave you and see if anyone knows her."
"Gee, I don't know," he said. "Go to a popular club where pretty young women practically throw off their clothes and writhe about in mock sexual ecstasy? You're asking a lot."
Glasson laughed. "Force yourself."
"OK," Chris said with a sigh. "The things I do for my local police."
Chris waited until ten in the evening the following Friday before he showed up at the club. He figured that if Jane Doe were still employed there, she would be at work during prime time hours. There was a long line of people waiting to get in the club as he approached. A snotty little guy picked people to enter the club according to some personal criteria. He was backed by a doorman, who looked as if he could toss an NFL lineman over his shoulder. The doorman examined the business card that Rhonda had given to Chris. "Go on in," rumbled the giant as he handed the card back to Chris. "Charlie's probably in the television room."
"Thanks," said Chris and he entered the club. Like most dance clubs, the music assaulted his body as he made his way through the crush of bodies. He found a corner and looked over the various servers and bartenders. There must have been a dozen workers in the room, but none of them were Jane Doe. He decided to find this guy Charlie and check with him.
"Where's the television room?" he practically yelled over the music at one of the servers as she passed by.
She pointed across the room as if this were the hundredth time she had told him where the television room was. "Thanks," yelled Chris to her back as she went on her way. He crossed the room and showed his card to yet another doorman. He was allowed passage once again. As he entered, it took Chris about two seconds to figure out why this was called the television room. An entire wall of the room was devoted to monitors. Sometimes they cooperated to show one large picture, and sometimes they broke up to show individual images. As Chris watched, the monitors suddenly splashed 'Show Us Your Tits' across the width of the screens.
Something swooped over Chris' head. For a second, he was convinced that some sort of large bird had invaded the building. But then he saw it was a video camera on an articulated boom. The operator was shameless. The camera peeked up skirts and down the cleavage of the female dancers. Some of the girls pulled up their tops to show off their bare breasts to the delight of the crowd who cheered their approval.