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The wind whipped through his curly hair as the red-and-white Fairlane convertible barreled along the road, a cloud of dust rolling over the fences. A wide, honest grin creased his freckled face.
Piloting Uncle Jake’s retractable-hardtop Skyliner was a huge thrill for eighteen-year-old Joey.
Little Joe was blowin’ on the slide trombone; The drummer boy from Illinois went crash, boom, bang … Jake pounded the wheel, belting out Jailhouse Rock along with Elvis on the radio.
Driving into the sunset, he didn’t even notice the black-and-white Ford with the cherry on top, parked in a grove of trees beside the road.
It peeled out into the dust behind him, cherry flashing and big, chrome siren screaming.
A couple of miles whizzed by before he noticed the red light emerge from the dust cloud in the rearview mirror.
Foot off the gas; slow down gently. No guilty-looking flash of brake lights from Mr. Cool Cat, no siree.
Watch for a place to pull off the narrow country road.
Turn into a wide spot, under a couple of big ole’ cottonwoods.
Smile at Officer Wells as she comes over.
Black uniform: cap over dark wavy hair, tight fitted shirt, shiny Sam Browne belt, pencil skirt slit at the side, nylons, sturdy black shoes.
Sheepishly, he gets out.
“Licence … thanks. Over to the car.”
Walks over to the old Ford Customline, parked under the trees.
“Hands on the roof. Lean over. Spread your legs.”
Jeesh. It’s not like Officer Wells — Mary to her friends — hadn’t known him since he was a tyke. She’d visited his third-grade class to give them a safety lecture, for Chris’ sakes.
“Do it, Joey.”
He grins but leans and spreads, like in the gangster movies.
She pats his arms, shoulders, sides, down his thighs, legs, ankles. Between his legs, front of his dungarees.
Shit. A boner. Can’t help it.
“Carrying a weapon in there, young man?” she asks sternly. He can’t see her smirk.
“Uhhhh. No ma’am.”
“Why so fast, Joey?”
“Had to pee, I guess …”
“Yeah? Why didn’t you just stop?”
“Dunno.” Lame excuse.
Cripes! Standing behind him, she slides her hands around him and unbuttons his dungarees.
His boner pops out through the slit in his boxers. Can’t help it.
She sees the flush of red spread into the blond hairs on the back of his neck. Grins.
“Okay, go stand in front of the car. Make your water.”
Oh no. Not a drop. He goes soft, caught in a lie.
“Here, mebbe this’ll help.”
She moves off to one side where he can see her, pulls the tight skirt up a bit, squats, opens her knees.
A strong casino siteleri stream of urine splashes into the dust.
His chest is tight. He can hardly breathe, suddenly remembering summer a few years earlier. He’d hear his mom creep out of the cottage at the lake. Sound of her peeing.
Moonlit nights he’d peek from behind his bedroom curtain. See her curvy body, pale in the moonlight. A dark triangle between her legs. Whack his boner till it spurted up his belly.
He can’t shake the image as Officer Wells’ stream puddles in front of him.
She looks at him.
He’s so hard his erection curves upwards from tight blond curls, shiny head exposed. Still on the thin side, she thinks, but long. I could wrap two hands around that.
“Looks like ya’ need help there Joey.”
“No ma’am … I mean, I don’t know, ma’am.”
She stands up. Walks over.
Touches his boner … her hand’s burning!
With her other hand she starts to unbutton her shirt. Tanned swellings. Brown circles peeking from the black fabric.
He’s taken girls to the movies and got to first base in the dark, of course. Never seen them, though.
Once he got to second base with Josie, hand between her legs, touched moist panties before she slapped his hand away.
Officer Wells’s shirt falls open. His eyes bug out. Big, round tits. Stiff pink nipples set in brown circles surrounded by tawny softness.
“Touch them, Joey.”
“Trace the nipples with your thumbs.”
“Squeeze gently … that’s it.”
She moans softly. Wraps both hands around his boner. Gently pulls his balls out of his dungarees.
Starts to stroke.
“Open your eyes, Joey.”
He’s leaning back against the police car, feeling almost faint.
She lets go of him. Tugs the tight skirt up around her waist.
Black garters holding up her nylons.
His eyes bug out and his boner bounces at the sight of her dark, curly bush.
She turns around. Leans against the car, facing it. Palms on the roof like in some weird gangster movie. Slowly swivels her round ass.
“Hold my breasts, Joey.”
Nipples stiff in his palms. He squeezes softness.
His boner lodges between her legs.
She reaches down, guides him.
Soft hair. Hot flesh. Wetness.
He holds his breath and … “Unnnhhhh!” explodes.
She feels his load surge up and splatter hotly between her legs, run warm down her thighs.
“Oh. Shit. Sorry …”
“Don’t worry Joey, you’re young.”
She holds his half-soft dick. Rubs the velvety head against her fiercely swollen clit.
He’s hard again. Already! The joys of being eighteen.
She canlı casino guides him in.
God she’s sizzling, burning him up. She pushes back and he’s halfway in. Suddenly realizes: I’m no longer a virgin!
He pushes. She pushes back, then arches forward.
Gradually he gets it: rhythm. Back and forth, back and forth.
She’s boiling. Hot and wet. He can smell her musk mixing with the sweet hay scents of the late summer afternoon.
Bolder now, he grips her hips in his big hands. Starts pounding her. His belly clenches as they speed up. Grunts. Motion. Instinct.
Her softness tightens around him as his heavy balls slap her thighs with every stroke. She squeezes his boner as it slides into her tunnel.
He thrusts mightily … “Wait, goddam it!” she yells.
Shocked, he pulls back, pushes again, pulls back.
Her powerful legs clench and he feels vibrations surging out from her very core.
“Now, now, NOW!” Her climax peaks and he blows the best load of his young life into her pulsating pussy, spurting again, and again, and again, and again.
His vision goes red as he sags against her, slowly clears as catches his breath.
She’s shaking. Laughing half-hysterically.
“Shit that was good, boy. Lord Jesus, it was good.”
Soft now, he slips out of her, followed by a gush of liquid from her spread legs.
Panting, he stands up.
“You aren’t going anywhere, son. If’n you ever want to drive again in this county.”
Officer Wells sniggers. Unzips the tight skirt and slides it down over wide hips and curving thighs. Snaps the tails of her shirt.
Doesn’t button it, Joey notes.
She strolls over to the red-and-white convertible. Strokes its flank lovingly. A tiny smile drifts across her face.
Her nails are the same red as the Fairlane’s paint, he notices. Lipstick too.
She opens the heavy door on the passenger side. Beckons him over.
Lies back on the bench seat and wriggles with a happy sigh. Splays herself, one ankle over the open door, the other over the side panel.
He eyes the bushy swamp of beaver between her spread thighs. Its deep rosy slash almost matches the Ford’s upholstery. Black garter clips hold up her stockings, their seams accentuating her long legs. The wanton pose. Joey can’t believe it’s happening.
His boner, its head exposed, seems to have a mind of its own.
He gets a grip on it, leans down.
“Atta boy … rub it up and down my slit. Feel how slippery you’ve made me. Now put it in, slowly, very slo-o-o-wly.”
He obeys Officer Wells, his hand sliding the head of his boner up and down between her parted red lips, swollen and dripping his thick, ropy cream.
She kaçak casino reads his mind: he wants to pound her meaty pussy, relieve the incredible pressure built up in his balls.
“Slow, Joey. Go slow … That’s an order.”
She gyrates her hips sensuously, takes in the handsome boy leaning over her, his muscular arms supporting him, strong chest stretching the white t-shirt tucked into his dungarees.
She feels his rigid rod probe her swollen vagina.
“Okay, Joey. But slowly now, slide it in slowly.”
His heart is pounding in his chest like it’s trying to escape.
“Slowly, young man.”
He sinks his full length into her, feels her squeeze him tight.
“Now nibble these nipples … No, don’t chew them. Slip them between your teeth and move your head from side to side without biting. Like that! Oh god yes, like that.”
He feels her vibrating under him. She’s panting too.
“Bite a bit harder. Gently, though.”
He squeezes the long nipple with his teeth, rubbing it with the hot tip of his tongue. Her hands grip his buttocks and she thrusts up.
He pushes in, pulls back, pushes in …
“Give it to me now, Joey!”
He pulls out, pushes all the way in, pulls out, pushes, feels his balls bump her ass with each stroke.
He closes his eyes, lightning exploding in his brain.
“Now! NOW!” Her thighs clench. She pulls him into her wetness.
He feels the damp hair of her bush tangle with his. Feels her muscles go rigid …
“YES!!!! yes-yes-yes-yes-yes … Ohhhhhh! My! God!”
Her climax starts his and he spurts and thrusts and spurts and thrusts until he collapses on top of her, gasping for air.
Officer Wells brushes his damp her out of his eyes, cradles his handsome face gently in her hands, sighs contentedly.
His heartbeat slows, keeps time with hers.
She feels his pulse throb in his still-swollen dick, and mews quietly as it softens and slips out of her. The hot song of the 17-year locusts is gradually replaced by the katydids’ evening hum. The sky starts to darken.
“Better get goin’ hot stuff. Jake’ll be wonderin’ where’n his pride’n’joy’s gotten to.”
His head, buried between her soft tits, turns slightly as he gives the closest nipple a final, lingering nuzzle. Yawns. Stands and stretches.
She admires him, sits up. Buttons her shirt, stands, tugs her skirt back on and arranges it carefully. Squares the peaked uniform cap.
“You stick to the speed limit from now on, young man.” Mock-stern. Officer Wells once more.
“And you be sure to wipe that seat down good, ya hear?”
“Yes ma’am. Right soon’s I get home, ma’am.”
She winks. Turns the key and wheels the black-and-white Ford around. Leans out the driver’s window.
“Tell Jake that when push comes to shove, Officer Wells says you’re as good as he is.”
Laughing, she peels away in a cloud of dust.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmami ister misin?
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