Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Ma/ft, Fa/ft, Reluctant,
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Deputy Do Right done done wrong.
God damn, it's hot in Texas, especially in late July. Shit, it was my day off too, but that didn't mean a damned thing to Haywire Gibson, the good for nothing son-of-a-bitch.
Nobody who saw the fracas had any idea what he was doing drunk on Sunday afternoon, or why he was mad at Billy Jenkins. It didn't signify with Haywire though and I'm sure he thought he had a good reason to shoot Billy Joe Stephens right square in the ass with a twelve-gauge. Lucky for Billy Joe it was loaded with birdshot.
Even though it didn't kill Billy Joe, it still made a mess of his poor ass and it took off one of his nuts too. It was assault with a deadly, at the very least, and now here I am out in the hot part of the day trying to find the drunk shitass.
They said he took off running towards the woods out behind the First Baptist Church. I don't know why he couldn't have hauled ass in his pickup like any normal drunk would have. He wasn't a bit shy about driving it to the church to shoot Billy Joe in the first place, but since the dipshit had left running I had to act like I was tracking him.
I've got nobody to blame but myself. I knew damned well better than to let Horace Johnson talk me into taking over as High Sheriff for John Darkwell.
John was doing a pretty good job until Big Homer Horton broke his neck one night. See, Big Homer came home early from a coon hunt and caught John bouncing his bony ass between Sadie's thighs. Sadie being Big Homer's fat wife.
It ain't true things like that are legal in Texas, but the jury let Big Homer off scot-free anyway. Worst thing about the whole mess was I had to arrest Big Homer again not three hours after I turned him loose.
He went straight home and whupped Sadie's ass good and proper with his belt. A waste of time is what it was - cause I knew good and well the next jury would let Homer off too. What kind of country would it be if a man couldn't whup his wife for giving his pussy away. It only made sense if they were gonna let Homer off for killing Horace they sure weren't going to lock him up for whipping his wife.
No help for it though, I gotta at least act like I'm trying to find that damned Haywire before it gets dark. At least I won't have to bother with his old truck. Monroe didn't sound like he was drunk yet when I called him at the junk and impound yard, and he swore he'd come tow the culprit's truck off before he got started on his next bottle.
Sure enough, I could see a boot heel print every now and then on the way to the edge of the woods and I even spied the empty shotgun shells lying in the grass where Haywire let 'em fall when he reloaded his double barrel. Come to think of it - I might should leave off trying to slow trail Haywire.
I went as far as the first pine tree and broke off a little limb, then I headed back to my car. After stripping off the pine needles I picked up the spent shells by sticking each end of the forked branch up in their empty ends. Maybe it would look like I knew what I was doing to the bystanders. With probably twelve people seein' the shootin' I didn't really think I needed any evidence, but I'd take them with me anyway.
"Did you find him Sheriff?" Pastor Franklin asked, as I came walking back toward the church.
"Naw, he headed out through the pines."
"Aren't you going to track him down?" he asked.
"If you feel like trying to slip up on Haywire in broad daylight with him totin' a twelve gauge double barrel Pastor Franklin you go right ahead. Make a citizen's arrest when you find him. I don't guess you'd mind catchin' an early bus to Heaven, but I'm not so sure of my relationship with the Lord as you must be. I'll pick Haywire up later, preferably when he don't have that Greener so close to hand."
I left the preacher spittin' and sputterin' and got in the prowl car. I know I didn't do all that well in high school, but even I knew better than to follow a drunk with a loaded shotgun into the woods. Besides, it was hot outside I tell ya'.
I knew good and well I'd find Haywire at his house later on tonight. It wasn't over a mile and a half to it from the church, not the way Haywire went anyway.
Bout three AM that night I drove nearly to Haywire's rundown little house. I knew his dogs would raise a ruckus when I slipped up there, but they were chained and I figured he'd be too drunk to notice by now. I was creeping around to the back door when I saw a shadow behind me. Someone was sneakin' up between me and the front porch light.
I turned around just in time to keep from being walloped on the head with a cast iron skillet. I wasn't fast enough to miss out on the whole lick though, it hit me right on the shoulder. Luckily I caught the wrists that were swinging it before they could try again.
"Ow, dammit, Sarah Jean, that hurt!"
"Well what'dya expect when you come sneakin' around in the night?" she asked.
"I expected to catch Haywire drunk."
"He's drunk all right. What you want with daddy?" she asked.
"I want to arrest him. He shot Billy Joe Jenkins in the ass after church let out today," I said, explaining.
It didn't help a bit. I did manage to hold both her wrists with one hand and cover her mouth with the other before she could scream loud enough to wake up Haywire or her sister Darla Faye. She struggled a lot, but I pinched her nose closed too and held on til she fainted.
I cuffed her when she passed out and then carried her out to my car and put her in the trunk after puttin' some duct tape over her mouth so she couldn't holler. It ain't as bad as it sounds, really. We've got the trunk fixed up to hold a prisoner without them being able to hurt themselves. If they're drunk enough to get picked up there's no sense lettin' them puke in the back seat.
After I had Sarah Jean situated I went back for Haywire. If he hadn't woke up by now he wasn't gonna before tomorrow. I found him, dead drunk, in his bed. I had Haywire in the trunk and Sarah Jean standing by the car in a few minutes. I even took the duct tape off without making her squeal. That don't mean she didn't squiggle and squirm and try to get away the whole time.
"Aren't you gonna take these cuffs off me?" she asked, after the duct tape was gone.
"Later," I said, while I took a good look at her.
Sarah Jean was damned good looking to be one of Haywire's descendants and I always figured there'd been a hired hand out by the wood pile giving Haywire some help he might not have thought he really needed.
She was a pretty red headed little thing and she had some really nice fat round titties. In fact, they were a caution the way they wiggled and wobbled while we'd wrestled around earlier. And the nightgown she had on let me see her nipples were big and firm too.
She had my dick harder than times in 29 and unless my nose had gone as haywire as her daddy, I could smell her pussy when I stood close.
I pulled her even closer, making sure those titties pressed into my chest, and reached around behind her to release one of the cuffs. She didn't wiggle so much this time and I'm betting she though I was gonna turn her loose.
I didn't though, and I could tell she was surprised when I fastened the cuffs again with her hands in front of her. She was even more surprised when I stepped behind her and tore her gown all the way from neck to hem in the back.
"What are you doing?" she asked, nearly growling.
"I'm getting my money's worth outta that lick you gave me with the frying pan," I said.
God damn, Sarah Jean looked good from behind, naked. She reminded me of a Lucky Strike cigarette: round, and firm, and fully packed. I took the time to fondle her ass cheeks, kinda pinchin' and squeezing around on 'em some, then I turned her back around and tore the front of the gown off too. I didn't even leave the sleeves; she was plumb naked before I got done.
"You can't just tear my clothes off like that," she said, but she sounded more scared than mad by now.
"Sure I can. Didn't you ever hear of a strip search?"
She shivered all over at that and we both knew it wasn't cold out here. I held her cuffed wrists in one hand and raised them so I could get hold of a titty with the other one. She was pissing and moaning about this not being right, but I didn't pay her any attention.
I pinched and played with both her nipples for a few minutes and they stood up real proud like. I decided I had to get a taste so I lowered my head and sucked one into my mouth. I noticed that the more I nibbled on 'em, the stronger the scent of pussy got, so I dropped my free hand down to her slippery lips and they were gettin' juicy as a fresh water clam.
She was still trying to complain, at least a little bit, when I slipped two fingers up in her for a little finger fucking. After a few strokes, Sarah Jean was mostly just crooning low in her throat and shaking her ass a lot. She didn't complain a bit when I pushed her arms through the open car window and hooked the cuff's chain down under the window crank.
She was bent over at the waist now, hooked into the car and resting her head on the door. I stepped behind her and dropped my pants.
"Oh! You can't just bend me over and fuck me out in the yard," she said, hissing.
"Oh yes I can, and I'm gonna. Body cavity search and all that."
I took hold of my hard dick and swabbed the head up and down her wet groove for a minute then I slid it home. Sarah Jean was tighter than rumors would lead you to believe, but it's that way with rumors sometimes.
It took three or four tries to socket my pole in deep, but it was well worth it. She was hot and slick inside, and even though she'd complained, it only took a few more strokes before she was pushing back as hard as I was pumping it in.
"Damn, I hope you've got that whole long thing in me by now. It feels like it's about to come out my mouth," Sarah Jean said, but I didn't think it was really a complaint this time.
Sarah Jean, bent over the way she was, was the perfect height for fucking. I leaned over her back and my arms were long enough to get hold of those big fat swinging titties. Soon enough I was pinching 'em both all the while I hammered my dick up her tight cooter.
When things started getting nearly too good for me, I let go of one titty and slid my hand down to give her clitty some attention. I must have done it right for I'd barely wiggled it when she put her ass in another gear entirely.
It was all so good I just had to lean down and give her shoulder a little bite. I convinced myself I was just going to connect the dots on a few of her cute freckles.
I just sort of groaned out loud when I lost my load, but Sarah Jean screamed like a cat in a trap. I sagged down on her back a little, but I tried not to put too much weight on her. It must not have been a bother because she didn't do any bitching about it.
When I had my breath back I reached in the car and undid the cuffs from the window crank where Sarah Jean could stand up. She was still panting a little and blushing like hell up about her titties and above and I could barely see the freckles there.
"You know it ain't right for you to come out here, sneak around, put the cuffs on me, tear my nightgown off and fuck me like this," she said, complaining a little but I knew her heart wasn't in it.
"Well it ain't right for you to put the kibosh on an officer of the law with a damned skillet either."
"How was I to know who it was sneaking around outside in the dark?"
"Hell, I was in my damned uniform which you could plainly see unless you were coming up on me with your eyes closed. If it was light enough for me to see your nipples and your red bush through that night gown then you could tell I was the law with no trouble."
I didn't argue with her any more right then, I just bent down and scooped her up in my arms to carry her in the house. I took her into the bedroom she said was hers and laid her right in the big middle of her double bed. I even took the time to get out another set of cuffs so I could latch her hands to the different sides of her brass headboard.
She didn't ask any questions til I started shucking my clothes.
"What're you doing?" she asked, when I started.
"Hell girl, I left a mess in there," I said, pointing to her beaver, "Don't tell me you think I'm such a redneck I wouldn't clean up after myself. It could take a while though. Looks like I'm gonna have to do some of that in-depth investigation you hear so much about on TV.
"But what about daddy, out there in the trunk a your car?" she asked.
"Old Haywire just ain't my type. 'Sides, we got plenty of witnesses to what he did. You just try to hold it down and don't wake up Darla Faye. I ain't sure I got the strength to do a proper investigation on the both of you."