The Stowaway's Keeper
Copyright© 2024 by HppyHrryHrdn
Chapter 53: Sheriff
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 53: Sheriff - In the 80's, John was looking to go some place no one would know him. He was not planning on starting his new life with a 14 year old girl. She and her friends keep his life anything but mundane, despite his best intentions to keep it that way at his new home. Codes will change as story progresses.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Ma/ft mt/Fa ft/ft Fa/ft Teenagers Coercion Consensual Drunk/Drugged Reluctant Fiction Incest Brother Sister Humiliation Spanking Anal Sex Analingus Double Penetration Oral Sex Slow
At 7:00 a.m., I walked Helen back to Cheryl’s room. I made sure she stayed quiet. We exchanged a quick kiss before she slipped into the room. On tiptoe, she crossed the floor to her side of the bed and slipped back under the covers beside Cheryl. Cheryl, still fast asleep, hadn’t noticed Helen’s three-hour absence—or her climbing back in beside her. Helen immediately curled against Cheryl, who let out a small, sleepy moan. Cheryl unconsciously sighed and pressed closer, savoring the familiar warmth of her girlfriend’s body.
Two hours later, I leaned in the doorway. I’d already sent Helen to slip back into Cheryl’s bed. I called out, “Up and at ‘em, you two.” When two heads lifted and turned toward me, I went on, “And don’t forget the earplugs and blindfolds. Back to deaf and blind. You have to finish out your punishment for the other day.”
They both groaned and stretched languorously, moving like a pair of sleepy cats. As they finished stretching, Cheryl asked, “Do we really have to be naked again today?”
I’d already considered her question on my way to the door. The previous day had been a deliciously erotic experience—not just fucking Dorothy on top of Helen, but keeping two blindfolded, naked girls stumbling around the house all day. On the other hand, it had made me far too open to Dorothy’s wicked suggestions the prior day. Their constant nudity had kept me half-hard and hornier than usual. I decided to let them choose their own fate. I smiled and answered, “That’s up to you two. Naked again ... or do you think you’ve suffered enough for your transgression?”
I left them to decide. I could hear the two talking before they finally appeared. Cheryl’s voice carried just enough for me to catch: “You know he’s expecting us completely naked.”
Helen countered, “I’m not convinced that’s what he meant. Besides, it would be nice to be dressed for a change—especially since we’ll be blindfolded again and won’t see who is around.”
Cheryl said, “Well, if we come out fully dressed and he decides we still haven’t paid enough and tells us we have to be naked ... think how embarrassing it would be to have to strip for him just because we got it wrong.”
From the long, pregnant silence from Helen, I got the feeling she was thinking about what Cheryl had said. She finally replied, “He doesn’t really change his mind on that kind of thing, so I don’t think he’ll make us get naked.”
Cheryl said, “You’re right. He doesn’t really change his mind very often. But I still don’t want to disappoint him, either. We need to show him we are taking the punishment seriously, and I’m not sure being fully dressed sends that message.” That was the last I heard of their discussion. After that, the conversation about what to wear grew quieter.
I found out what the compromise was a few minutes later: they stepped out wearing nothing but bikini bottoms, their tops nowhere in sight. Technically, that left about seventy-five percent of them exposed as they padded toward the kitchen, blindfolds and earplugs in hand. I raised an eyebrow and said, “Interesting choice.”
Cheryl shrugged and explained, “Yesterday was full nude; today’s the second day, so wearing something felt reasonable. It’s definitely better than showing up fully dressed ... or completely naked.”
“Interesting choice,” I repeated, then said, “OK, let’s get breakfast. You can get yourselves cereal. I’ll be in the other room getting some work done. After that we’ll get you back to being blind and deaf.”
They answered in unison, almost cheerful, “Okay!” They were rather pleased they had met my expectations and had not disappointed me in their choice of attire. Helen reached up, making her small breasts jut forward even more sharply, and got two bowls while Cheryl’s nipples hardened at the blast of cold air coming out of the refrigerator while retrieving the milk. Each went to the cupboard and pulled her preferred box of cereal. They sat there, nipples pointing at each other like accusatory arrows, while they ate.
Finished and having cleaned up the kitchen, they came out to find me. Before having them put in the earplugs, I said to them, “While I love you both, I’m still disappointed with your actions yesterday morning.” I was careful to say “yesterday morning”—Helen’s little 3 a.m. visit six hours earlier still left me with complicated feelings, not with what she had done, but with myself.
Helen spoke up for both of them. “We understand,” she said softly, “and we really hope we don’t disappoint you ... in any way.” That little “in any way” was all the tell I needed. She’d loved going down on me earlier, and the way she let the words linger made it clear she was already thinking about doing it again.
I did what I could to put that thought out of my head. Keeping my voice steady, I said, “I appreciate that. Now put the earplugs in and hand me your blindfolds. Cheryl, you’re next.” Helen passed me her blindfold first, then slipped the earplugs in. With my finger, I motioned for her to turn around. With her back to me, I tied the blindfold snugly, then took the shooting muffs from her hand. She didn’t flinch when I put them on her nor when I covered her head with the blackout hood.
Cheryl’s gaze passed over Helen—blindfolded, hooded, nearly naked except for that tiny strip of bikini bottom—and she let out a nervous little laugh. “Wow ... I never really pictured how we looked. That is one bondage-type look.”
I scoffed at her suggestion. “I don’t see it. Now throw in a whip, some handcuffs, and nipple clamps and stretch her on a rack or chain her to a bed ... then yeah, that would be a bondage look. Now put the earplugs in. We have to get you into your sub uniform.” I used the word “sub” on purpose, knowing Cheryl would not like being thought of as a submissive.
Cheryl glared before she jammed the earplugs in and spun around. I tied the blindfold, settled the heavy muffs over her ears, and pulled the blackout hood down over everything. Under the hood, her voice was crystal clear and dripping with sarcasm: “Happy now? Do I look submissive enough? Should I start calling you Master?” I ignored the barb and tapped her shoulder, letting her know she was free to go. She continued in her smart-ass tone, “Thank you, Master.”
I gave Helen’s shoulder the same two taps. Blind and deaf to the world, the pair shuffled out the front door, hands half-raised like mummies. I later realized that the bikini-bottoms-only look had been deliberate: they’d planned to spend the day tanning, and going topless was their way of avoiding lines across their breasts. The scraps of fabric still covering their vulvas were nothing more than a grudging nod to me—and to the fact that they had no idea who might be around.
Blind and deaf, they shuffled across the driveway, hands outstretched until their fingers found the two lawn chairs they had left there. Before they settled into the chairs, they slathered each other down with suntan oil. The application was more of a groping session between the two than just ensuring they had even tans. I guess they had decided that playing with each other’s bodies and getting a tan was the best way of not getting in trouble. I had to give it to the two of them; it was, after all, very creative on their part. For most of their morning, every fifteen or twenty minutes they rolled over like clockwork, breasts gleaming in the sun, while I sat inside and hammered away at the one project that would consume me the moment they left for camp.
By late morning I’d had enough of trip planning, so I headed outside to do some yard work. Before going in, I noticed the girls’ skin had shifted from pale to a pink hue. I couldn’t resist. I stepped over Helen first, let a bead of sweat roll off the tip of my nose,, and watched it land squarely in her navel. She shot upright like she’d been shocked, swiping at the drop and yelling, “Hey—quit it!”
Thirty seconds later I gave Cheryl the exact same treatment. Same jolt, same frantic wipe, same indignant shout: “Quit it!”
I didn’t say anything to either of them. I just waited until their frantic arm-waving died down. When they’d calmed, I took Helen gently by the shoulder and guided her to the same porch chair she’d used yesterday. Once she was settled, I collected Cheryl. Without resistance, she went right where I directed her, sitting in the other chair. There they were again—two topless Sphinxes flanking the front door, their small, firm breasts and pale areolas like soft marshmallow cones on full display. I left them there and headed straight for the shower. After that I still had to call Marco and find out exactly what he knew about the unsavory crowd in South Carolina.
I heard the driveway alarm while I had a head full of shampoo. There was no way to shuffle the girls into the house before the car’s driver spotted the two Sphinxes. It turned out the sheriff had horrible timing. He was getting out of his cruiser just as I opened the front door, wearing only a towel around my waist. I stood in the doorway as the sheriff came up the steps. He said, “I came to talk about Jane, but I think these two need a bit of an explanation.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Why?”
“Let’s start with this. Does Jane’s mother know her other daughter is sitting on your front porch with your ward basically naked? I’m not going to need to call the Child and Family Services Division, am I?” he asked.
I lied to the man. “Well, if those were Helen or Cheryl, I’d expect you to say something to Dorothy and Family Services. Those two girls should be over at the Fieldses’. I imagine they’re out at the lake swimming by now, probably enjoying their last few minutes before heading off to cheer camp. Looks like Helen’s going to follow in her sister’s footsteps. Anyway ... my friend—the one who gets you your preferred mates—will, on occasion, find me a couple of girls who, while they look underage, are actually eighteen. Something to keep me entertained while Cheryl’s away. Cheerleader camp’s two weeks.”
The sheriff wasn’t sure if I was telling the truth or not. His tone said it all: “Seriously? Two girls? Your guy does good work. Are their faces just as hot as their bodies?”
I continued my lie, only now some of it was true. “I’d show you, but they’ve been bad little kitties.” I smirked. “They’re being punished right now. Well—punished is what I call it. They’d probably call it foreplay.”
Helen flinched as the sheriff’s rough hand glided up her inner thigh and traced the gap of her camel-toed bikini bottoms. “It’s a shame I’m not attracted to these—they look like they could be a lot of fun.”
I jumped in and said, “A hell of a lot cheaper and easier than getting a wife.”
The sheriff had just said, “Yeah, that’s definitely true.” I’d made the comment about his wife because I’d heard rumors that she knew about his predilection. He reached up and caught Helen’s swollen left nipple between rough fingers, pinching hard and twisting. She let out a high, needy whine but didn’t protest. Then he turned to Cheryl. Hooking a finger under the dollar-sized bikini bottoms, he tugged them aside. He slid one thick finger through her slick folds, rubbing slow and deliberate over her clit.
“Now if there were a dick here,” he said, voice low and hungry, “I might just have to suck it dry.”
After the initial shock, Cheryl snapped her legs shut—but even then a soft moan escaped her lips. I smacked the side of her small tit; the impact created a fresh darker pink on the pink hue it already had. Like Helen, she said nothing and just spread her legs wide again, exactly as they had been before the sheriff’s grope. I told him, “You could think of that little bud as a dick and suck on it. I know this whore would enjoy it.”
I’d offered Cheryl, knowing full well the sheriff would never take me up on it. His two kids looked nothing like him, and it was common unspoken knowledge that his wife fucked around since he was not screwing her. Plus, Cheryl couldn’t hear me call her a whore.
The sheriff stroked up and down Cheryl’s slit again, pushing a finger in to the first knuckle when he reached her entrance. Cheryl groaned at the intrusion and jumped when he pulled out and slapped her squarely across the labia.
“Tempting, but no,” he said. “I came here to tell you there’s been another reported sighting of Jane—about half a mile from here. Same as before: we couldn’t verify it.”
“She’s becoming the new Bigfoot,” I said to the sheriff. “Anything else? Because if you’re not going to partake of these sluts, I think I will.”
“No, that’s all,” he replied. He twisted Helen’s puffy nipple once more, then added, “You have fun with these two. Hell, they’re almost sexy enough to make a man go straight.” He gave Helen’s other nipple a quick pinch and tug. After one last grope of both girls, he headed back to his cruiser and drove off.
The two girls were none the wiser that it was the sheriff who’d seen their small breasts hanging out or that he was the one who’d groped them. For the rest of the day they stayed subdued, which made things unusually quiet—considering their tits stayed fully exposed the whole time. They moved back and forth between the porch and the chairs in the drive, working on their tans while I brought them fresh drinks whenever they got hot. By the time I called them in, the tan lines around their nipples had nearly vanished after two straight days of lying out topless.
When I phoned the Fieldses’ house, Frank answered. After a few pleasantries, I asked, “Do I need to send Helen back home for dinner?”
He replied, “That would be good, but I’ll come by to pick her up. That way you don’t have to send her. I’d like to see her as much as possible before she leaves for camp—which, to be honest, is a real shocker. I never thought of her as the cheerleader type.”
I said, “Yes, it doesn’t seem like the two of them. But you never know with teenage girls—Cheryl and Helen becoming cheerleaders proves that; they’re doing exactly what you’d never expect.”
After hanging up, I went out and brought the two girls inside. Once they were seated, I removed their hoods and earmuffs. They took the hint and untied their blindfolds, then pulled out their earplugs as well.
“Helen,” I said, “your dad will be here in about ten minutes. So you two need to grab your showers—no funny business with the short time frame. Cheryl, you use your bathroom; Helen, you can use mine. Make it quick, unless you want Helen’s father to see you running around here in virtually nothing.”
Helen said, “No, that would not be a good idea if I ever wanted to come back here again.”
I said, “Then get to it.”
They hurried off. When they returned, they were both modestly dressed in bras, T-shirts, and shorts that didn’t look like they were about to go to a disco roller rink. They were sitting on the couch at a respectable distance when the buzzer for the driveway went off. Two minutes later, Frank was knocking at the door. After the usual pleasantries, he said, “I really do appreciate your giving Helen such a timely birthday present.”
I thought Cheryl was going to burst a blood vessel trying to stifle her guffaw. Helen turned red, looking ready to die of embarrassment at her father’s comment and Cheryl’s reaction. I merely said, “It was my pleasure. She earned every bit of it.” My reply only made Helen more embarrassed—and made it even harder for Cheryl to hold back her laughter.
Once Helen had left, Cheryl walked over to where they’d left the blindfolds. Picking one up, she started to put it back around her head, covering her eyes. I stopped her and said, “I think you’ve got the message—and hopefully that won’t be necessary again.”
She nodded. “I definitely won’t make that mistake again.”
“Good,” I replied, then added, “Let’s get dinner. You’ve got packing to do—go get ready for your cheerleading camp while I get ready for my business trip.”
As we packed in our own own rooms, we chatted the way we always did. When we finished, we both got ready for bed, though it was still a bit early. When Cheryl came out of her room, ready for the night, I was surprised to see she was fully dressed in her pajamas. She climbed into my lap as I sat in my chair. It was nice to have her snuggle in—it would be a while before we got to do that again.
After a couple of shows, I told Cheryl, “Time for bed; you and I have an early morning.” Instead of trying to use one of her remaining nights to stay with me, she headed to her room. I guessed she figured she’d already pushed the envelope enough over the past two days and nights.
After Cheryl went to her room, I went to bed in my usual attire—nothing. About half an hour later, the floorboard by the doorway creaked, and from the shadows Cheryl said, “Can I come in and talk with you?”
Looking out the door, I saw she still had her PJs on. So I figured there was no harm in letting her come in as long as I was the only one under the sheets. Correcting her grammar, I said, “I’m sure you can, but you also may come in.”
She put a quick end to the thought that I would be the only one under the sheets. She quickly raised the sheet a few inches and shot under it as she climbed into bed. Just as fast as she had gotten under the sheet, she covered the small distance to snuggle into me. Still dressed, she swung her leg over my hips and pinned my cock flat against my stomach with the warm, bare skin of her inner thigh. I said, “I thought you were only here to talk.”
Cheryl replied, “Yes, but it’s so much more comfortable to talk this way, especially when talking about what I want to talk about.”
I had always found that when a woman said that, she wanted to talk. It wasn’t a good sign, and it was even less so if she did it in the middle of the night. But still, I said, “Okay, what’s up?”
“Well, for starters,” she said, “I wanted to thank you for being so sweet to Helen last night. You could have not let her in or thrown her out, but you somehow knew she really wanted and needed to be alone with you—even though you didn’t know she’d only done it to get you alone and give you a blowjob in private. And when you knew that was the reason, you didn’t throw her out; you listened to her. She really does love you in a way she doesn’t love me. I think she’s realizing that she’s actually more attracted to guys than she wants to admit. So you letting her stay so she could experience blowing you ... sucking on your dick all by herself and of her own volition ... without any encouragement from me—you seemed to handle it and her feelings perfectly.”
Shocked at what she had said, I asked her, “Did Helen tell you about last night?”
Her reply was even more shocking: “No, I was watching from the doorframe. You know I’m aware of which floorboard creaks and alerts you when someone’s at the door. I intentionally didn’t step on it last night. Tonight, though, I did—so I could surprise you and not get myself shot.”
I was stupefied at Cheryl’s admission and asked, “So you were there for the whole thing?”
She answered, “Yes, I heard and saw all of it.”
I wasn’t sure whether to be impressed that she’d managed not to make the creak that would have alerted her girlfriend and me that we were being watched, or upset that she’d spied on us. Then again, I supposed standing in the doorway didn’t really qualify as spying.
Cheryl was quiet after that for a long while, running her soft hand over my chest. I got the feeling something else was weighing on her. I was going to wait it out, but instead gave her a way to bring up whatever was still bothering her. “Is that all, or is there something else?”
“There is something else, but I don’t want to have to wear the blindfold again or be punished,” she said quietly, her voice timid. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she fell silent again before finally saying, “I want to do what Helen did for you.”
I immediately understood what she meant, but wanted clarification. I said, “And that would be?”