Edgefield & Sutherland
Copyright© 2026 by Jessica Sloane
Chapter 3: Ain’t Nobody Here But Us Chickens
Historical Sex Story: Chapter 3: Ain’t Nobody Here But Us Chickens - Young detective Jon Edgefield and his sexy MILF partner Ruby Sutherland are on the case in 1949 San Francisco.
Caution: This Historical Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Age Gap Coercion Consensual Romantic Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Crime Historical Humor Military Mystery Vignettes War Workplace Alternate History Sharing Group Sex Orgy Swinging Cream Pie Exhibitionism Massage Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Voyeurism Big Breasts Politics AI Generated
San Francisco Chronicle | April 18, 1945
S.F. YOUTH CITED FOR BRAVERY ON LUZON
Pfc. Jonathan R. Edgefield, a graduate of Abraham Lincoln High School and son of famed Eddy Street private investigator Helen Edgefield, has been awarded the Bronze Star Medal for valor and gallantry on the Villa Verde Trail.
Division headquarters reported that Edgefield’s commanding officer fell wounded with the squad pinned down on a narrow ridge under heavy enemy machine gun fire. The San Francisco solider twice crossed the open ground, brought one man to cover, and returned under fire for the second. Both were saved and the position was held.
Pfc. Edgefield is currently serving with the Army’s 32nd Division in the Pacific theater. When reached for comment, a beaming and clearly very proud Ms. Edgefield simply stated that she was not surprised by her son’s heroism. The detective noted that she loved her son very much and wished only for his safe and speedy return home.
She didn’t close the door.
The hall light cut a clean stripe across Ruby’s bare ass and the backs of her thighs, and across me, still buried in her, still coming, with one hand firmly locked on her hip. The niece stood in it for a moment with the towels hugged up under her ample chest. Blonde. Curious blue eyes. Around my age. She wore a blue cardigan over a faded homemade dress that had simply never been designed for what was underneath it.
Jesus Christ.
She looked like trouble. She had the kind of curves that did not ask permission ... they just took the room. Shoulders set square and easy ... arms lean and toned like she’d spent her life pulling something heavier than a trigger. Up top, she had a set of tits that made the room feel ten degrees hotter ... a full, generous bust that strained every button of her dress and made a fella forget whatever question he was about to ask. Her waist clinched in tight beneath ... the kind of narrow that makes a man loosen his collar ... then flared out to hips that meant business. Legs for days, long and sculpted.
Everything about her was put together like a well-oiled .38 ... compact, polished, and dangerous if you didn’t respect it. She wasn’t built to be looked at. She was built to be reckoned with.
She looked at the place where I was still inside Ruby. Then at my face. Then at Ruby’s crooked glasses.
“The way I see it ... we have two options here, Sacramento,” she said to Ruby and me. Calm. Almost pleasant. “I can either call the cops right now and tell them all about how you registered here in my aunt’s establishment under false information ... or ... you two can let me play, too.”
The room got very small.
Ruby’s voice came out steady ... a little wrecked at the edges.
“Please close the door. Ain’t nobody here but us chickens.”
The niece looked at her for a second. Then she reached back, caught the knob with two fingers, and pulled it shut. The stripe of hall light died. The towels stayed against her chest, but she made sure to lock the door.
I eased out of Ruby slow. Wet. Still hard enough that it felt like a risky idea. A thick line of my cum slipped down the inside of Ruby’s thigh. She smoothed nothing. Skirt bunched at her waist ... blouse open ... hair half out of its pins. She turned around, fixed her glasses with one finger, and looked at the young woman. Studying her.
Then she walked across the room.
She took the towels out of the niece’s arms and set them on the scarred table without looking at them. Her hand settled at the small of that impossible waist ... light, sure, already steering. The girl let herself be steered. Ruby walked her the few steps over to the iron bed and guided her down onto the edge of it ... her homemade dress pulling tight across those wide hips as she sat, blue cardigan still buttoned, eyes on me the whole time.
Ruby stayed standing.
“All right. Let’s play,” she said.
I dropped into the chair by the window and found the pack in my shirt. My hands were steady. The match flared, the cigarette caught, and the first drag scraped my throat.
The night had clearly gotten ahead of us. Across the street DeWitt’s kitchen was still lit. From what I could tell, it looked like he and the girl in the black dress had fallen asleep together on the couch. But I kept my eyes on the room I was actually in.
Ruby sat down on the edge of the iron bed beside her. Skirt still wrong. Blouse pulled together with one hand like her manners had just remembered themselves. She crossed her legs, fixed a pin in her hair, and looked at the girl over her glasses.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
The girl set her hands on her knees. The homemade dress pulled tighter across her thighs when she did it.
“Sam,” she said. Then she caught herself. “I mean Samantha. Samantha Kline.”
Ruby smiled.
“It’s nice to meet you, Sam. You have a beautiful name.” She tipped her head toward me without looking. “My name ... well ... my real name is Ruby Sutherland. I’m a private investigator. This is my partner, Jon Edgefield. The truth is ... we’re actually on a stakeout at the moment ... investigating a homicide ... we’ve been watching a potential person of interest in the building across the street. Please excuse our registration subterfuge this evening.”
Sam blinked. The surprise moved through her face before the rest of it did.
“Private investigator? Wait a minute. Edgefield? As in ... Jon Edgefield? From Lincoln High?”
I looked at her again. Really looked. Her tits. Her cardigan. Her full lips. Nothing was ringing a bell.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Do we know each other?”
She smiled. Then she giggled, one hand coming up to her mouth like we were still in a hallway between classes and a teacher might hear us.
“Sort of. I mean ... I was a senior when you were still a freshman. But I noticed you. A lot of us older girls did.” Her eyes went bright. “You’re Helen Edgefield’s son, right?”
Shit. Sam Kline. Of fucking course. It was all coming back to me now.
“Oh wow,” I said. “Sam. Um ... how are you?”
She bit her lower lip. Her blue eyes went to Ruby, then back to me, and the giggle was gone.
“Better now that you and your ... aunt ... are here.”
Ruby made a small sound. Almost a laugh.
“Well,” she said, looking from Sam to me and back again. “Looks like we have ourselves a little class reunion here tonight.”
Sam grinned, but didn’t laugh. She looked at me. Her eyes were steady. There was real longing there. Plain as the cigarette burning down between my fingers. She didn’t blink it away.
Ruby let it sit there for a second. Then she put a hand on Sam’s knee, light, the way she put a hand on a page she was about to turn.
“Tell you what, Sam. You can play with us.” Her voice stayed soft. Her terms weren’t. “But no more talk about calling the cops. Deal?”
Sam nodded. Once. Hair shifted on her shoulders. She didn’t look at Ruby when she did it. She was still looking at me.
Ruby turned her head.
“Edgefield,” she said. “Would you like to see me kiss our new friend Sam?”
I nodded.
That was all she needed.
She leaned in and Sam met her halfway. It wasn’t shy. Sam’s hand came up into her auburn hair and knocked a pin loose, and Ruby made a pleased little noise against her mouth and kissed her like she had decided the girl was a problem she was going to solve with her tongue. They sank back onto the iron bed together. The old springs whined and complained. I did not. Sam’s blue cardigan bunched in Ruby’s fist. Ruby’s glasses went crooked again. She didn’t fix them.
Clothes started coming off between kisses.
Ruby shrugged the blouse off her own shoulders first, then worked the buttons of Sam’s dress without looking, mouth still on Sam’s. The front of the homemade dress finally fell open. Those heavy breasts spilled out, soft and full, nipples already tight in the dim room. Ruby pushed her wool skirt down over her hips and kicked it somewhere toward the door. Bare. Thick thighs. The shine of me still drying on the inside of one of them.
Sam was slower ... and then she wasn’t. The homemade dress fought her for a second at the waist ... that tiny, cinched middle ... and then it was up and off and the cardigan with it. Breasts high and round and too big for the rest of her, swaying when she reached for Ruby again. Wide hips. That high, full ass settling back onto the mattress as she pulled Ruby down on top of her. Long legs. Blonde hair spread on the cheap pillow. She kissed Ruby like she’d been waiting all night and had finally been handed an excuse.
I put the cigarette out.
My belt was already open from before. I freed myself and wrapped a hand around my cock and stroked, slow ... watching them. Together. The wet sound of their mouths. Ruby’s soft body pressed against all of Sam’s taut, impossible curves. Sam’s hands sliding down Ruby’s bare back to that round ass ... squeezing ... pulling her closer. Ruby’s thigh pushed between Sam’s. Somebody moaned. Might have been both of them.
Across the street, DeWitt’s light was still on.
But I didn’t dare look away.
Ruby kissed her way down out of Sam’s mouth.
She didn’t hurry. She stopped at Sam’s neck and stayed there, mouth open, tasting the pulse ... one hand spread over that little waist like she was measuring it. Sam’s head tipped back on the pillow. Blonde hair everywhere. Her breasts rose with her breath, high and round and heavy enough to shift toward her arms when she arched ... the nipples already drawn tight and dark pink in the low light.
A body like Sam’s didn’t need a hand to present itself. It just waited.
“Oh,” Sam said. Small. Not a word so much as a place she’d arrived at.
Ruby looked at one breast. Then the other. Then she glanced over her shoulder at me, glasses crooked, that small knowing smile, and went back to work.
She took Sam’s left tit in her mouth.
Not a peck. She sealed her lips around the nipple and sucked ... slow ... cheeks drawing in ... and Sam’s whole body answered in response. A sound came out of her that she tried to bite off. Ruby didn’t let her. She sucked again, harder ... tongue flicking the nipple while her lips held ... and her free hand came up under the other breast and lifted it ... thumb rubbing the other nipple in the same rhythm. The weight of it filled her palm. Soft. Too much for a girl that narrow through the middle. Ruby made a low pleased sound against Sam’s skin and switched ... dragging her wet mouth across the valley between them ... kissing the inner curve, then taking the right nipple and pulling at it with her lips until it slipped free and she caught it again.
Sam’s hands found Ruby’s hair. Not pushing. Holding. One pin hit the floor.
“God,” Sam whispered. “Your mouth.”
Ruby sucked like she had all night and meant to use it. She drew the nipple in deep, let it go, licked a slow circle, then sucked again. Her other hand kept the left one company, squeezing, rolling the wet nipple between her fingers. Sam’s thighs opened on the mattress without anybody telling them to. The homemade dress was gone. Nothing left now but skin ... with the blue cardigan having fallen off the side of the bed. Those wide hips settled deeper into the springs. I could see the muscle in her stomach jump every time Ruby’s mouth pulled.
I stroked myself ... but didn’t speed up. If I sped up I was definitely going to jizz on my own goddamn shoes and miss the whole show.
Ruby kissed lower.
Under Sam’s breast. The soft place above the navel, which on Sam was barely a place at all, just a smooth run of skin down to the flare of her hips. She moved like she was reading something. One hand stayed on a breast, still idly thumbing the nipple, keeping Sam lit. The other slid down the outside of a thick thigh and pressed it wider. Sam let it. Her knee bent. Her foot found the iron rail. Blonde curls between her legs ... already dark at the center where she was wet. I could smell her from the chair. Soap and heat and the boarding house room giving up.
Ruby looked at Sam’s pretty pink pussy. Then she looked at me.
“Watch and learn,” she said.
She lowered her head and put her mouth on Sam.
The first lick was slow. Flat tongue, from the bottom of her up through her wet lips, unhurried ... like she was tasting a spoon. Sam’s hips jerked. Ruby put a forearm across them and held her to the bed, not rough, just sure ... and licked her again. Longer. She parted her with two fingers and licked the pink inside, then closed her mouth over the clit and sucked the way she had sucked the nipple. Gentle. Then not.
Sam made a sound I felt in my cock.
“Oh ... oh, that’s ... Ruby...”
Ruby hummed against her. That vibration went somewhere. Sam’s hand slapped the mattress and caught a handful of sheets. Her other hand stayed in Ruby’s auburn hair, not directing ... just there, knuckles a little white. Ruby’s ass was up in the air at the foot of the bed, thick and bare, that gray skirt long gone, and every time she dipped her head it shifted. Glasses sliding. She didn’t stop to fix them. Her tongue was too busy working in small steady strokes ... then a suck ... then her fingers eased inside, one and then two, curling ... all while her mouth stayed on Sam’s clit like it had been assigned there.
Wet sounds. The clock didn’t matter in this room. A streetcar somewhere toward Third could be heard off in the distance, once, and then it was gone. Sam’s breathing went ragged. Her breasts shook when her hips tried to rise and Ruby’s arm kept them honest. I could see Ruby’s tongue. I could see the shine on her chin. I could see Sam’s thigh trembling against Ruby’s cheek, that long muscle jumping, her foot flexing on the rail.
“Don’t stop,” Sam said. It came out completely wrecked. “Please don’t stop. Right there. God, right there.”
Ruby didn’t stop.
She sucked harder. Fucked her slowly with those two fingers. Blonde head thrown back, mouth open ... eyes gone stupid and bright and fixed on the ceiling like the ceiling had the rest of the answer. The bed talked. Ruby’s heavy breasts swayed under her as she worked, brushing Sam’s thigh.
I sat in the chair with my cock in my fist and the cigarette dead in the tray ... and watched as two insanely hot women forgot there had ever been a door in the first place.
“Captain Edgefield.”