The Borrowed Girl
Copyright© 2014 by harry lime
Chapter 6
Thriller Sex Story: Chapter 6 - DCI Griffin on the trail of kidnappers. Or is there something else involved in the strange disappearance of Rebecca Harrison?
Caution: This Thriller Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa girl Consensual Coercion Blackmail Heterosexual Mystery Light Bond Oral Sex Masturbation Exhibitionism Voyeurism Violence
Max scurried behind the broken plank board fence so he would not be seen from the direction of the parked car. His heart was beating fast just like it did when he was chasing down the nanny in the park. He had felt like the hunter then pursuing his prey and striking home with his spear into the juicy female pie that he had become addicted to after that first incident when he was still a teenager of just nineteen. Now he felt like the quarry hiding from the superior force. The danger was all around him and it was certainly not to his liking. He knew that the plan was beginning to fall apart if they were already onto the Mini Cooper. He racked his brain trying to remember if he had cleaned all of the interior surfaces completely.
There was little chance they would connect the motor to either he or his sister because it was papered to his long dead aunt down in Brighton. None of the other surviving relatives knew he had taken ownership of the thing without their knowledge but he thought it only fair since she hadn't left him a part of her considerable fortune. Of course, the documents on the thing were completely bogus purchased from a money-grubbing Paki looking to make his fortune on more than the selling of cigarettes and magazines. He had also purchased an entire packet of phony papers from the same dodgy character but they looked quite real unless you knew where to look.
He tried to calm down and wished he had one of those phones that he could use to call his sister and warn her not to answer the door until he returned home. His extensive knowledge of police procedure alerted him to the fact that the police would be check all residences within a kilometer of the auto disposal site and his house was easily well within that distance. Their house looked relatively innocuous but these constables were notoriously keen on smelling a rat and if they hooked on to his sister for more than a few minutes they would probably sense she was as batty as a bedbug. Fortunately, neither of them had been involved in any incidents that might be on the record. If they went into his background down in the Brighton area they might zoom in on the two times he had been picked up for exposing himself to innocent females on public transportation. It was something he was not proud of but his obsession at that time was so strong that he had done it dozens of times and only got caught the two times quite by accident. He had a good brief and got off with a slap on the wrist but his particulars were certainly floating around there if they ever got good enough to connect the dots.
He ran down the empty field inside the fence and exited only a block from his house. There were no police cars in sight and he made a beeline for the garage door. He slammed the door down because he didn't want any coppers snooping around in the junk scattered around the messy interior.
It was a good thing he had returned home immediately.
His sister Dolly was dancing around the study in her naked glory wearing only the stockings she had stolen from the Borrowed Girl. He looked at her with a degree of mixed feelings because it was so inappropriate if a constable were to come to the front door to ask any questions. Her bushy pubic mound was glistening with sweat and she danced to the beat of some new-fangled dance style that absolutely drove him bananas. When she saw him, she smiled and spun around so he could see the sweat pouring off of her perspiring bum. The sly Dolly knew he couldn't resist her bum and she often teased him with its proximity and positioning. This time was different because the coppers were closing in relentlessly and he was pushed to find a way to return the Borrowed Girl with any further difficulty.
"Dear Dolly, you must get some clothes on because we might be having a visit from the police in the next few minutes."
His sister was startled and she shouted out in fear.
"Max, the girl Rebecca is not feeling good. I think she is coming down with something and has a fever again."
He gave up any semblance of calm and rushed down to the basement to find Rebecca shivering in a puddle of her sweat and her eyes turned slightly back in the sockets. This was not good news at all and to top it all off, the front door bell started to ring insistently like the sounding of a Doomsday gong.
He covered Rebecca with the blanket and found her pulse was at least strong and steady. Then, he scooted back upstairs to confront what he was certain was a visit by the police about the motor stashed within easy walking distance to their house.
He saw not just one but two police vans outside the fence and he steeled his mind to be calm and sound totally befuddled by the fact that actual police were seeking his assistance at the front door. Max saw his sister's bare flanks bouncing up the stairs hopefully to put on some decent clothing and a more innocent appearance. He didn't see anything in the front parlor or the small kitchen that would spark a constable's suspicion and went to the front door shouting out at the top of his voice,
"I'm coming straight away. Just a moment."
He peered out the cloudy glass window and saw the forms of a male police officer in civilian clothing and a female constable in full uniform. There were other uniformed police waiting down by the vans looked more bored than alert.
"Good morning, Sir, I am DCI Griffin and this is my colleague PC Johnson. We were wondering if you might assist us with our inquiries concerning a matter of grave concern regarding criminal activity in this neighborhood."
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