Inspecting the Inspector - Cover

Inspecting the Inspector

Copyright© 2010 by Lubrican

Chapter 6

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 6 - Bob has been an Agent for the Inspector General's Office for sixteen years when he gets a new partner. She's young, and beautiful, and he tries to retain professional detachment. Then there's the fact that she's from another culture, which makes for some miscommunication sometimes. Imagine what could happen if they had to go under cover together. Wait! You don't have to! You can read all about it.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Romantic   Reluctant   Interracial   Slow  

I had had sex, occasionally, since the woman I had wanted to marry dumped me. But I had forgotten what it feels like to make love.

There was no hurry, urgency or frenzy. Kelani climbed on top of me and stretched out, writhing slowly. There was a sensual nature to the way she rubbed her body against mine. She scooted up for kisses, and then spent fifteen minutes kissing me in fifteen different ways. She started with "I love this," after a long kiss, then added "and I love that," after more. At one point she moved up until I felt her breast rubbing my face. I sucked the nipple and she froze.

"Oh, and I love that," she gasped. "I have missed that so much!"

She made me give her fifteen minutes of nipple love before she moved back down for more kisses.

"I love that you are not in a hurry," she whispered.

She sucked on my tongue, and then said "But now I want you to hurry. I need to be filled now."

She rolled off of me. I got carefully over her. Her hand came to my aching prick.

I admit I had used up all the patience and slow I had in me. I took her roughly. But suddenly I couldn't stand not being in her, and as I thrust and penetrated her, only the fact that I could feel copious lubrication and her own pelvic thrust, signifying she urgently wanted what I was giving her made the guilt go away. Her groan of satisfaction only spurred me on. I felt like I was raping her as I withdrew an inch and then slammed hard back into her, grunting like some animal.

Her hands fluttered on my back. One dropped to my ass and pulled in time with my thrusts.

Her voice came in my ear, praising me, asking for more. Some of it was unintelligible, Maori, no doubt, or maybe that third language she had alluded to, which I hadn't identified, but which I probably also could not understand.

Her first orgasm announced itself when she stiffened, her strong body resisting my crushing thrusts. Her internal muscles fluttered, rippled and then gripped me like a fist. Instinct made me push hard and rub the base of my cock back and forth across her clit. She cried out, again in words I could not understand.

Without planning or warning, all my feelings for her overwhelmed me. I concentrated on what I was doing, and where my penis was. With a whimper, I felt my balls clench, and suddenly soothing semen was rushing through my cock, leaping into her body like otters leap into the stream. I wanted nothing else at that moment, nothing in the entire world, than to be doing what I was doing ... cumming in Kelani.


I'm convinced we lost our minds that night. The world backed away, and all that existed was the space inside those two sleeping bags, zipped together. Kelani had not exaggerated when she said she liked sex a lot. She was insatiable. We literally made love until we were too exhausted to continue. At one point, because she could not reach my lips if I was on top of her and in deep, she mounted me and fucked only the first two inches of my cock, moving slightly, but also manipulating her pussy muscles such that they squeezed and released my knob, almost like she was jacking me off. I knew she had learned this with her professor, because she was too good at it for it to be something she had just discovered, or was exploring. And she could tell when I was about to cum too, because just as that happened she stopped kissing me and said "Shock my Te-Koru, Bob." Then, as I spurted, she slammed herself down, taking me deep until I had nothing left to give her.

Eventually, though, as I said, we were both exhausted and, entwined in each other's arms, we finally slept.


I will admit here, and just hope that Joe never reads it, that the next three days were more like a honeymoon than a criminal investigation. We did gather the data we needed. I found out, for instance, that Chuck and Janice were married and did not, in fact own the company, even though their names appeared on all the documentation. I found this out by the simple expedient of expressing interest in expanding my contracting into this area, and asked Chuck how he had gone about arranging with the government to establish the camp. He told me the real mover and shaker was a man named Jeff Rudolph, and that all he and Janice did was run day to day operations. As long as they turned a profit, Jeff was apparently happy. I also learned that they transmitted all information about the camp to Jeff, and that it was Jeff who took care of all the paperwork, leaving them all their time to make the campers happy.

"So it's Jeff who determines whether or not you're making a profit?" I asked.

"Yup," said Chuck. "Every so often he calls up and says how happy he is and to keep up the good work. I've only met him once, and that's when we applied for the job. If we need anything we call Emily, his secretary and it happens."

"I suppose the person I need to talk to, then, is Jeff," I said.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Sorry I can't help you."

"You have helped me," I said, grinning. "You've helped me have one of the best vacations I've had in years."

He grinned back. "Please feel free to mention that to Mr. Rudolph when you see him."

"I'll do that," I said. Now that I knew Chuck and Janice weren't actually the ones ordering supplies, they were no longer on the suspect list. Jeff Rudolph was.

Besides that and a few other things we did to establish the facts and circumstances, I spent my time playing the part of a stud horse. That's what it felt like sometimes. The way she looked at me made me feel like I was being evaluated for the strong points I might bring to a foal. At any moment she might press up against me and say "I need a private word with you, Dear," which I soon learned was code for "I want you naked and on top of me within ten minutes!"

It seemed like everything we did turned her on. Horse riding was the worst. Whether the horses were going uphill, and she was leaning forward, rubbing her clit against the saddle, or going downhill, at which point her pussy was glued to the base of the saddle horn, she always got off a horse horny. If we were riding alone, she wanted to be taken in the open air, clothed or not. One day she arranged with Eartha for a picnic lunch, and we hiked until she found a place to spread the blanket. She wanted to make love both before and after we ate.

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