Chapter 4

The Opportunistic Detective

Brenda was awakened five minutes later, and she quickly sat up, wiping her cum-covered face with her panties and making sure her short dress was covering her bare ass.

Officer Bennett, dressed in his civilian clothes, was smiling down at the disheveled girl. "You awake, Brenda?"

"Oh," she answered breathlessly, pretending she was relieved to see him. "Officer Bennett, thank God it's you! I was just attacked and... and... raped!"

The officer's smile was warm and cynical at the same time - not dissimilar to that of someone observing a birthday girl who's just eaten too much of her own cake.

"Knock it off, Brenda. I know what just happened here. I have the whole thing on tape."

He reached into his coat and produced a small audiotape recorder, holding it up for Brenda's benefit before pressing the rewind button, then the play button: "... you're an animal... oh, God, Charles... you're gonna make me cum..."

Officer Bennett pressed the stop button.

"Doesn't mean I liked it!" Brenda claimed.

"Shut up, Brenda. You're in enough trouble as it is. Now, get up and follow me." Brenda left her dirty panties on the ground and began to crawl toward the man.

As Brenda followed Officer Bennett out of the bushes, the first thing she noticed was the gray sedan with the tinted windows parked right there on the lawn, not ten feet away. "What's he doing here?" Brenda asked the officer.

"That's me," Officer Bennett answered. "That's my car."

"Officer Bennett, have you been following me today?"

"I've been following you every Monday through Friday for the past five weeks," he informed her. "Jon knows you've been screwing around on him. He hired me to get proof, and today you kept seeing my car because I had to get close enough to you to get some hard evidence."

"So the police are now harassing women at the request of their husbands?"

"It's not harassment, Brenda. I have a private investigator's license, and I'm off-duty; remember, I patrol for the town at night. I was a private eye before I was a cop, and my captain knows I still do this on the side. So everything's on the up-and-up, except for the fact that you're humping just about every guy in town."

"I am not!"

"Well, let's see: I have photographs of you and the milkman in your kitchen, playing your big-tit games; a videotape of that mentally-challenged guy from the magazine stand feeling your boobs; I slipped your headmaster two hundred-dollar bills this afternoon, and in exchange he wrote out a description of how you jacked him off at his desk; the church's basement was bugged before you got there today, since I knew you and your pastor were a little kinky, so there's a lot of good screaming and begging on that tape; and I have pictures of you giving that wetback boyfriend of yours a big roll of cash, not to mention this recording of him screwing you in the bushes." He let all this sink in.

"Did I forget anyone?" Officer Bennett asked.

"No," the trembling brunette lied. She wasn't about to make things worse on herself by telling the man about Jimmy!

"So you can see, Brenda, that you're in deep shit."

"Oh my God!" Brenda exclaimed as the realization of the seriousness of her situation dawned on her. "Jonathan's going to be so pissed! He's going to kill me!"

"Maybe he'll just want to use that riding crop of his on your lying ass," Officer Bennett suggested nonchalantly. "Sometimes that's all it takes to make a wife behave herself."

"The riding crop?" What's the deal with that thing, Brenda wondered. "You know about Jonathan's riding crop?"

"Jon said he learned to always keep a riding crop in his closet... 'for emergencies' is how he explained it. Said his older brother gave him one the day Jon left for college."

"I wonder what he needs one of those for," Brenda said quietly.

"Come on, get in my car; I'll give you a ride home."

Brenda hesitated; after all, this man was definitely the enemy.

"Get in, Brenda; I'm not going to rape you! I'm just doing my job. Besides, look at that dress you're wearing. You don't want everyone in town to know you've been fucking around in the dirt! Get in, and I'll drive you home." Brenda was sure the officer was up to something - and she was right - but she got into his car with him anyway.

As they drove through town, Brenda remarked, "I've never seen this car before today. How long have you had it?"

"A few years. I keep it in my garage, and I almost always do my investigation business in neighboring towns where I won't be recognized. Jonathan hired me about a year ago, when he lived in Camden, to dig up some dirt on a business rival, and Jon and I ended up becoming good friends. That's why I agreed to do this for him, even though I won't normally take jobs like these right here in town."

Officer Bennett turned off the street and onto a gravel road, heading into the woods.

"Where are you taking me?" Brenda asked, suddenly frightened.

"Don't worry, Brenda; like I said, I'm not going to rape you." He pulled off the gravel road and into a grassy field, then turned off the engine, and the two of them were alone. "I don't have to rape you, Brenda... because, if you'll do as I say, maybe Jon doesn't have to know what a little slut he has for a wife."

"What did you have in mind?" Brenda inquired, suddenly interested. She had always thought Officer Bennett looked like he would make a fun fuck.

"Get out of the car," he ordered the excited girl, and she hurried to obey him. This could be good, she thought, her heart rate increasing and her throat turning dry.

Officer Bennett walked around the front of the car to where his friend Jon's sexy young wife stood, then bent her over the car's warm hood.

"I'd better search you... first," he said, and began to pat her down.

"And why is this necessary?" she asked insipidly as the man took his time, feeling her shapely legs, her upturned ass, her dangling boobs.

"It's standard procedure," the officer explained.

"Am I under arrest?" she asked, squirming beneath his molesting grip.

"No, but you have the right to remain silent, because anything you say can only make things rougher on you. Now close your mouth."

So Brenda quit arguing, and just took it. Soon Officer Bennett's roaming hands and pinching fingers were causing the helpless girl to flex her legs and wiggle her aroused ass. She wanted to ask the officer what he intended to do to her next, but remembered his instructions to keep quiet.

She could hear the rustling of tree branches in the cool wind, the distant hum of traffic at the other end of the gravel road, and the sound of... what was it?... splitch, splitch, splitch... she looked over her shoulder to see that the cop had his cock in his left hand, a small bottle of lubricant in his right, and was slowly slicking his thickening member as he studied her helpless, bent-over form.

Brenda giggled. "I take it that's for me," she teased.

Officer Bennett lifted her short dress and moved it up to the middle of her back, causing the cool air to caress Brenda's bare skin. The next sensation she felt was that of his slippery, erect penis pressing against her tight anus, trying to make its way inside.

"No... uh-uh... you are not going to stick that cock of yours up my ass!"

"Remember our deal, Brenda."

"But... but... no one's ever done that to me before... I don't want anyone to do that to me! Not even my husband!"

Officer Bennett let out a disgusted gasp as he continued to press forward with his iron erection. "Like I would want to fuck you anywhere else, you filthy, cheating whore!"

"Officer Bennett!" Brenda exclaimed, grunting nervously as he slowly entered her butt. "I thought we could be - y'know - kind of friendly about this!"

"We can, Brenda; just quit whining. I'm going to do this, and you're going to let me, so just shut up, and let's get to work... unless you want Jon to hear my full report."

"No... ugh," Brenda agreed, as he slowly pumped her. "No, that... ugh... wouldn't be good... okay, I'll do it."

"You're already doing it, Brenda," he reminded her, then gripped her hips in his hands and guided her movements, slipping in and out of her perfect, tight ass.

"Oooh - oh, ugh, that's thick. It kind of hurts, too." This was only half-true, but Brenda didn't want him fucking her any faster than he was, so she left out the other half of the truth: that it felt good, in a novel, foreign, unnatural way.

Officer Bennett ignored the struggling slut and fucked her steadily, evenly, with a moderate tempo.

Brenda cleared her throat. "I said that kind of hurts a little, Officer Bennett," she admonished.

Still no answer from the man behind her - at least, no verbal response; Officer Bennett's only reaction seemed to be to pump her even harder!

"But, I guess that's the point, isn't it?" the suffering girl realized aloud, silently adding: Why else would a man want to put it in there?

"Ooof!" the cop grunted, and his thick dick exploded in Brenda's upturned butt, soothing her with a big, warm, gooey wad of fresh semen. Brenda clenched her ass and flexed her legs and patiently took his massive load, and once her tight little rear end was full, the slimy goop overflowed, running down the backs of her beautiful legs.

"What a mess," she observed dimly as Officer Bennett's cock shot off the last of his sticky discharge into her cum-drenched ass.

She's Everybody's Girl

After Officer Bennett dropped her off at her house, Brenda flew into high gear. She not only had to - for the fourth time today! - shower, dress, put on her makeup and fix her hair; she also had to prepare an extra-nice meal for Jonathan.

Friday evenings were special for the two of them. On Saturday night, Jon would take her to any restaurant she chose, then dancing, or to a party - whatever made her happy. But Friday evenings were when Brenda liked to pamper her husband, since Jon had done nothing all week but work, always bringing her gifts and keeping her checking account full.

"Shit!" Brenda exclaimed, looking at the clock. She phoned Perotto's Italian Restaurant, just eight blocks away, and instructed the hostess to deliver the best meal they could make in under an hour.

"Tell Mrs. Perotto to handle this personally," Brenda told the hostess. "Including the delivery," she added as an afterthought, since Mrs. Perotto was a matronly, middle-aged woman, and Brenda didn't have time for any more sex right then. "If you can pull this off, there's a hundred dollars extra for each of you - the chef, Mrs. Perotto and yourself."

The hostess gave Brenda the total cost, and Brenda added: "And no plates! I'll use mine. I want Jonathan to think I cooked this myself."

An exhausted Jonathan arrived home to his gorgeous 18-year-old wife dressed in her running shoes, pink ankle socks, denim cutoffs and a tiny tank-top, and to a kitchen that smelled like delicious Italian cuisine. She served his supper to him, feeding him the last portion as she sat on his lap, then led her contented husband into the living room.

With Schumann's second symphony playing on the stereo, Jonathan smoked one of his Cuban cigars as Brenda sat on the floor at his feet and read to him from that morning's newspaper. After about an hour, Jon announced that he was ready for bed.

Friday nights were the one night they tended not to make love, since Jonathan was so exhausted from his week; besides, he liked to save his strength for Saturday morning, when he was full of energy. Brenda was more than happy with this arrangement, since she tried to have as much sex as possible on Fridays (getting as much as she could before her weekend with Jonathan), and was as fatigued as her husband.

Brenda awoke the next morning, alone in their bed, surprised that her husband's dick wasn't rubbing all over her face. What about his morning suckoff? she wondered, and got up to find her man.

Jon was in the kitchen, fixing breakfast. "Surprise!" he greeted her, and she kissed his cheek. "Have a seat - I made breakfast for you. And just wait and see what else I have in store for you... you're going to love today!"

Brenda was delighted, and said, "Oooh, you're the best husband ever!" She kissed his cheek again. "I need to use the bathroom real quick before I eat."

Jon poured Brenda's coffee while she was in the bathroom. When she returned, she said, "I'll get a pen so you can do your crossword puzzle," then started in the direction of his den.

"Don't go in there!" Jonathan shouted, and Brenda stopped. "Your surprise is in there; you'll get it after breakfast."

Brenda smiled, enchanted, and slowly walked to the dining room table. "Sit down and eat, Brenda. You'll need your strength." She obeyed her kind husband, eating her breakfast as he washed the frying pan and spatula.

After she ate, Jonathan put his young wife on the couch in the living room. He smiled down at the beautiful teen; she looked so cute in her flannel nightgown and her pink ankle socks, looking up at him, smiling innocently, expectantly.

"You're really going to be surprised," he teased the pretty girl, "but that's okay - you deserve this!"

"What is it?" she demanded playfully, stamping her stocking feet on the carpet.

"I'll go get it," he told her. "Stay there." And Jon walked away, down the hall to his den.

Brenda heard the door to the den open, then a whole crowd of footsteps coming down the hall!

She gasped in horror, wide-eyed, as the men entered the living room, each of them leering at the frightened young lady.

Officer Bennett. Reverend Paine. Bob Kronick, her headmaster. Mr. Clark, the milkman. David from the magazine stand. Even her boyfriend, Charles.

"Go easy on her," Jonathan instructed the group of excited men. "There are six of you, after all, and only one of her... and she's only 18 years old."

Brenda's head was swimming. It didn't take a genius to figure out how these particular males ended up in her living room that morning, and she knew better than to ask any stupid questions just then.

"Have fun," Jonathan said over his shoulder as he began to walk toward the front door.

"Come back, Jonathan!" Brenda called after him, desperately.

Jonathan turned to her and stared down at her, his blue eyes devoid of emotion or attitude.

"Come back in a couple of hours," she added softly, meekly, and Jonathan walked out.

Bob, the one man in this room for whom Brenda felt nothing but disdain, reached down and began to pull off her nightgown. "Well, I'm sure you realize what you're going to be doing for the balance of the morning, Brenda," he remarked as he undressed the girl.