Lust and murder in small town X

[MysteryWriter]

Deacon's tool kit

When the Deacon left Eddie’s, he was feeling better than usual. It had been a long time since he had made a connection with anyone. He still didn’t know why the big silver haired stranger had helped. It didn’t matter. It was enough that he had. The Deacon wasn’t sure he had needed the help. Still he was glad someone showed there was still a sense of justice in the world.

Eddie had explained that the man was a writer in town to write about Maggie Evans. Maybe he would shake the town a little. If somebody turned the place upside down, his beloved Paris might fall out. If not, then at least he might find out what happened to her.

Paris had just disappeared one cold winter night. She left her house after speaking to Deacon on the phone. She went to the health food store in Huntington. He would have bugged the Police there except that here car was found behind a school building in STX. The sheriff presumed she met someone there and just left. Nobody else in STX came up missing that night, so it had to be a stranger, according to him.

After the world’s largest and longest binge, the Deacon began bugging everyone he could think of. He would have gotten the truth out of someone, if he had known who to ask ‘aggressively’. It was a new way of saying torture. Deacon knew how to torture men. He had done it before. The problem was he didn’t know who to torture.

He had this vague feeling that he did know, but just couldn’t bring it to the surface. He had a new plan. One devised when he saw the tough guy go head over heels. He planned to befriend the writer. If he could interest him in Paris, maybe they could find the person to ‘interrogate aggressively’.

He arrived at his shack just before one in the morning. He went to bedroom, then removed the plastic tackle box from beneath his bed. He placed it carefully onto the kitchen table. When the lid was opened, an array of tools became visible. The tools were chrome plated mechanic’s tools, mixed with an assortment of medical and dental tools. The tools had only one thing in common, when in the hands of accomplished ‘interrogator’, no one could resist talking. When the person on the business end of the tools ran out of truth, they began making up things.

The look on his face was not pleasure or anticipation. The look was pure revulsion. He had begun to assemble his tool kit after the sheriff refused to look for Paris. It was the only thing the Deacon knew to do. He closed the tackle box, lifted it, walked back to the bedroom, slipped it under the bed, then lay down to sleep. Only seconds later he began to snore softly. He slept peacefully in the knowledge that he might soon find his Paris.

 

[MysteryWriter]

steak and wine at 1am

There is something haunting about a siren after midnight. It has a kind of death knell. Probably a drunk driver, I thought as I looked into the stars. Steaks and wine at one a.m. was a treat saved for special occasions.

The occasion was simple. I was about to get laid.

The steaks sizzled over the wood fire as the tall thin woman drank her wine. She had been upset her first night in the campground. I heard her cry those long gut wrenching sobs. I had wanted to go to her then. My need for privacy seemed to overwhelm my since of humanity. I could also remember my wife saying, “Once in a while I just need a good cry.”

That had been several days before. Over the time since, I had made friends with the wild haired beauty. The hair was always done until she arrived back at the campground from work. I couldn’t help but smile. We were becoming a gypsy camp at the STX campground.

Just as she seemed calm headlights passed. It was the woman in the minivan. She was another mysterious gypsy. She slept in the minivan with the rental tags. Other than those few hours I had no idea where she went or what she did with herself. She was a curiosity but I had my mind on the lady with the cigarette burn on her hand.

The steak was good. Hell, even the foil wrapped potato was good. Best of all was the wine. The bottle was almost all gone when I made my move. I was subtle. She could take the invitation any way she wanted. Her response was to ignore it, but she didn’t run away either. I pulled her to me for a kiss. I hoped that would change her mind. It seemed to work on most of the women in STX.

She was warm and seemed willing but at the last minute she pulled away. “I just can’t do this.”

“I understand.” I did understand, but there was something troubling in the fact that she didn’t pull away from me either. She stood in my arms even though she knew I was planning to kiss her again. I could have pushed her away I suppose, but I wasn’t the one feeling guilty.

The answer was simple. I either had to make a strong move, one to over power her timidity or I had to back off. I couldn’t stand there all night stroking her back. I kissed her again as I pulled her hips even tighter against me. She whimpered as I kissed her neck. I gently guided her to my van. I had the door open and her seated on the mattress when she bolted up.

“I told you. I can’t do this,” she shouted as she ran off to her camper. I was suddenly relieved. I had no idea why I felt that way. I love sex but somehow it had felt all wrong.

 

[Lisa CJ]

Old Man Keyes

Old man Keyes was an alcoholic. Everyone knew it – except him. With four children and a farm to work, he thought little of his actions. Work equaled money. Money put food on the table, whiskey in his flask. Keyes had the biggest farm in STX. It was a hard life but was all he knew.
“Mike called about your truck,” Betty said while washing dishes. “Jeb’s gone to get it from the garage”
Keyes grunted – “He till the south end today like I told him?”
“He was helping Sarah with her schooling.”
“Boy knows we gotta get that land ready! Should take a damn belt to him…”
Keyes took another swig of whiskey.
“Now Bobby, won’t do no good whipping him.”
Betty prayed he would be calmed by her soft words. Jeb’s arm was just out of a cast. As she thought of it, Betty placed a hand to the bruise on her cheek.
“Got three boys – only one still home ain’t worth shit!” Keyes raged.
“Jeb will do it tomorrow,” she replied patiently.
Keyes emptied the flask into his toothless mouth and slid it across the table.
“Fill it up.”
Betty silently took the bottle of Beam from the shelf.
Bobby Keyes had four children, but only acknowledged three. Sarah was virtually non-existent to him. At 22 she was still his burden. Sarah was simple. If she couldn’t work the farm, she was useless. Almost.
“Where’s Sarah?” Keyes asked.
His answer was rattling dishes. Betty’s hands were shaking. Her eye was swollen shut. She said nothing.
The attic door creaked open. Sarah Keyes knew it was Daddy. She’d heard his familiar footsteps on the rotting stairs.
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she apologized automatically for whatever she’d done or not done.
The flask crashed against the wall over her head.
“Jeb ain’t your teacher,” Keyes slurred; “He’s a farmhand and shoulda been working that land today.”
He flung back the bedcovers.
“You go to school all you want little girl, but you ain’t gonna learn nothin’ that’s gonna keep you from goin’ hungry. I’m the one who keeps your belly full and where I come from that’s worth more than an education. You ain’t good but for one thing…”
Sarah was silent. She owed him, or so he always said.
Without warning, Mama slammed the iron skillet down on Daddy’s head. Jeb was in the doorway. Outside, a tow truck revved.
“Did he arrange it?” Mama whispered, pulling Keyes’ body off Sarah’s bed.
Jeb grabbed the arms and dragged him toward the doorway.
“Yep,” Jeb answered; “Mike’s downstairs waiting.”
Sarah heard Daddy’s head hit each rotting stair with a thud. When it stopped, she crawled from bed and peeked out the window. The tow truck – Daddy’s pickup attached – was pulling away. Jeb was in the truck with Mike. Daddy was in his pickup, mangled head against the steering wheel. Mama was watching them leave, skillet still in hand. Sarah Keyes didn’t fully understand what had happened, but she was smiling.

 

[LostLenore]

Loose

Lucy Morgan sat in the dark tent, massaging the small round burn mark on her hand, thinking to herself that it had to have been an accident.
The last time Lucy had seen her husband Chad was two weeks ago. She had found that sleeping on the ground was uncomfortable. But ironicly she felt safer out in the campground then she had in her own locked house with Chad. He'd behaved irraticly for years. He would often accuse her of putting thoughts in his head. She dismissed it as stress. After all, working at Miller's Gas, Lube and Tire was a tough job. But two weeks ago at Eddies, she saw that his paranoia had turned from merely unsettling, to dangerous.

"They're talkin about me, Loose." He had always called her loose, since their first date together when she'd earned the name by pulling him into the womens bathroom after her for a quickie.

"Who's talking about you?" Lucy gased through the dim smoke filled bar and could see nothing unusual. Deacon was in the corner drinking alone. Ranger Jane was dressed up in a business suit, wearing stilletto heals. Come to think of it that did seam a little odd. She sat with her back to Lucy, talking to some overly thin, frail looking pixiegirl.

"The deputy and Vern, over there. They've been gettin quiet every time I walk by them. They must be talking about me behind my back. They are trying to get me fired. I know they're out to get me."

Lucie would have thought he was kidding but she'd seen his grease stained hands shake as he lit his cigarrette. The flick of the lighter illuminated two rows of crooked yellow teeth. "Chad, you're talking crazy. What have you done for deputy Evans to have anything against you?"

He slammed the hand that held the cigarrette down on hers, glaring at her. "Are you against me too? "

When she felt the cigarrete burning into her flesh she screamed. She pulled back so hard that she lost her balance. She fell against Jane, knocking her into the pixie, causing them both to spill their drinks. She'd pealed from the bar parking lot in Chad's pickup, leaving him stranded.

When she got home, she took out the loaded revolver from under the mattress. She quickly packed her camping tent and some clothes. She'd been living at the camp ground ever since. But it must have been an accident. Chad would never have hurt her on purpose. Still, she slept with the revolver under her pillow.

 

[wildsweetone]

Almost tripping, I descended the two steps, pulling my habit angrily up from the ground. The bus driver followed me off practically chucking my heavy case on the road edge.

I handed him the fare, thanking him for his help. He tipped his hat as he climbed on the bus. I watched until the bus disappeared out of sight, the dust from its worn wheels landing in clouds on me.

I turned and looked up the main street of the town. Nothing had changed. The town wasn't large. The buildings in definite need of major repair work. Eddies Place, The Hop-In, a library, sheriff’s office, a couple of side streets showed more promise.

I picked up my case and half dragging it, walked along to the crossroads. No one was in sight, I guessed that was pretty normal for a Sunday afternoon in STX.

Moving into the shade under the entranceway by the closed library, I placed my bag against the wall. Bending to unzip the bag for a drink I noticed something shiny on the ground under the wooden walkway. Peering through the gap in the boards I couldn't decide what it was.

Moving to the edge of the walkway, I looked under the gap between the floorboards and the ground. I stretched my hand out as far as I could reach, my fingertips touching cold metal.

Easing it towards me, I eventually managed to grasp it in my hand. I stood, staring at the object. A wrench. The open end covered in a dark red stain. I didn't know for certain what it was, but knew it had the look of dried blood.

A rough hand on my shoulder pulled me back.

"What's that you've got there missy?" a gravely voice ground as his fingers gripped tighter.

Looking up at him I decided he wasn't the most savoury of people. I relaxed a little though, as the sunlight bounced of his silver badge.

"Looks to me like a mechanic's wrench. Here, see for yourself. Be careful though, it looks like there's blood on the end." I handed the Sheriff the wrench.

"Well I'll be... Little lady, I think you've just found a murder weapon. Thank you ma'am. I'm gonna need you to come along to the station with me and answer a couple a questions." He pointed me in the right direction and walked behind me to his office. I ignored the feeling that his eyes were watching my body as I walked. The shiver of awareness was almost more than I could handle though.

I sat on the chair he directed me to gathering my uniform close around me. With feet flat on the floor, hands folded neatly in my lap I asked "Who was it that died Sheriff?"

"Maggie Evans was murdered. Found belted in the seat of her car in the lake last month."

Unbelievable shock ricocheted through my body. I had no choice now but to go to the house. My birth mother was dead!

 

[MysteryWriter]

the carnival comes to town

I had gone to bed among maybe a dozen motor homes with a couple of trailers tossed in. I woke up surrounded by campers of all types. Either they were a stealthy crew, or I slept like the dead after my visit to Eddie’s.

The sudden of the campground occupants would not have gone unnoticed even if the first new occupant I saw hadn’t been a midget, okay little person. It could have been his intention, or just the way he was. I swear to you, he was a miniature Elvis, minus the flashy clothes. He was in tiny jeans when I saw him.

I left my van to use the common bathroom. I noticed the Elvis elf go into the ladies room. After my use of the facilities, I kept a close eye on the small camper two spaces down. It took an hour but I finally saw the second occupant of the tiny Elvis trailer. She was a striking woman. Very feminine, all made up, and wearing a see through gown under a not quite see through robe. She gave the little Elvis a kiss before she closed the door behind him/her.

“Hey,” I called to Ranger Jane as she drove past. She stopped. “Who are these people?”

“You should love it writer. The Carnival is in town. We get the freaks out here every year.”

“I certainly hope that Little Elvis is the worst.” I smiled at her.

“Nope, little Elvis is just your garden variety lesbian, midget, ex-con, Elvis impersonator. She, er he, whatever, hangs out down at Eddie’s. If you want to meet her, stop by tonight. Of course there will be a line.”

“Don’t tell me she turns tricks?”

“Men and women hon, you sure lead a sheltered life for a writer.”

“So who is worse?” I asked it not all that sure I wanted to know.

“Son of Dracula, I think that is how he bills himself. You never see him during the daylight. He might have an alter ego though. He will be at Eddies after ten. That is when the show closes. Come on down and see the show, it is almost free. Eddie really should charge a cover tonight.”

Jane drove away leaving me wondering about the other campers. I sat under my awning looking at them. The coffee made it even better. Hel,l I would go down to Eddie’s but the campground show was pretty good.

Made up, I expected that the strippers looked a little better. In the morning on their way to the landramat they just looked old. It looked as though it were going to be an interesting night.

Jane suddenly re-appeared. “Hey writer, there has been another murder.”

“Who this time?” I asked it with no real sense of urgency.

“A visiting nun of all things.”

“Damn, things are heating up around here. Looks like I picked the right time to visit.”

“Unless you are an alien or a vampire. She had her blood drained.”

 

[Lisa CJ]

Sister Rita

Sister Rita walked the streets of STX in silent prayer. Her mother was dead…murdered. Though she’d never known Maggie Evans, and could never figure out how her 30-year-old mother could have a 25-year-old daughter, Rita nonetheless was deeply grieved. She’d finally tracked down the family homestead, and wound up instead with a maternal corpse.

The police officers had kept her until after dark, and now she found herself walking dark streets in a strange town. But she at least knew what she was looking for. A Victorian-style mansion on the corner of Cooper and Dale. The Mother Superior had at least given her that much information.

Rita was jolted out of her rumination when in the distance she thought she heard calliope music. But as she saw in the streetlight the roadsign reading “Cooper”, Sister Rita felt an even darker pall fall over her. Gazing up slowly, she took in the huge, rundown house that was the Evans’ ancestral home. And the eerily cheery music she had heard before seemed to come from within the house.

She clung to her crucifix as she made her way up the small path and approached the front door. Three hesitant knocks upon it abruptly halted the organ music.

Rita was just about to turn and leave when the massive door creaked open. Although she had lived a sheltered life, Sister Rita recognized him instantly. It was Elvis Presley.

“Hey little Sister,” he grinned mischievously, “What can I do for you on a hunka burnin’ night like this?”

Rita didn’t know whether to scream or laugh. She remembered her saintly poise –

“Is this the Evans’ home?” she asked meekly.

“Well, don’t know about that, ma’am, but it’s my home now,” the pompadoured and spangle-attired man responded kindly. “Would you like to come in and set a spell? Have some lemonade?”

Before she could respond, the handsome stranger opened his arm to her, his white sequined cape glittering even in the dim light.

Rita was inside the house and peering up at a portrait of her ancestors before she even realized she’d walked in. It suddenly felt like she was in slow motion.

“Don’t know who they are, Sister,” Elvis said as he walked up behind her; “Was hangin’ there when I moved in. Kinda pretty folk though, don’t ya think?”

As Rita was about to reply, a burst of pipe organ music echoed through the house. She jolted and gasped in surprise, but felt Elvis’ arm go around her shoulder. He chuckled -

“Easy there, little lady; just Cilla offering up a little intro music for my next number…”

Sister Rita finally turned and looked up at him.

“Your next number?”

“Yes ma’am,” he grinned, and Rita saw the pearly white incisors gleaming as two sharp tines.

“It’s now or never…” he started to sing.

Before she could assimilate her terror, Elvis had taken Rita into the folds of his cape, leaned her back, and savagely ripped out her throat.

 

[MysteryWriter]

Eve-

I was sitting under the tarp that I had rigged as a sun screen, when Ranger Jane drove up.

“Jane?” I asked. When she came to see me, it was for a reason. Sometimes to get laid, but mostly to collect money for the rent. Her visit was a mystery, since I was up to date on both my accounts.

“Writer, I need your help. The woman in the other mini van, do you know her?”

“Nope, we haven’t met, why?”

“She is Maggie Evans’s sister. I thought she would have introduced herself.”

“No, but that is interesting.”

“More than you know. The nun turns out to have been Maggie’s daughter.”

“How could that be Maggie was only thirty.”

“She was a medical marvel. Gave birth to the kid as a youngster. Had to give her away. Our little Maggie, was a bit of a slut it seems.”

“So you are the one who has to tell her, she has lost her niece, the sister, as well as her real sister?”

“Yes and I want you to be there. Maybe you can help soften the blow.”

“How the hell would I do that?”

“I don’t know but you should know all about that touchy feely shit. You are a writer, aren’t you?”

“Okay, but all I can do is try.”

I think Ranger Jane was a little to blunt. When she explained it all to the woman, Eve, she fainted. Fortunately I caught her. I placed back into her van. When I tried to lay her on the air bed, it moved around so that she was half on half off.

“You were a lot of fucking help writer.”

“Surely you didn’t think me standing there would prevent this kind of thing. I didn’t get a chance to say a word. She just went out like a cheap light bulb.”

“Maybe she is diabetic and needs sugar?” Ranger asked.

“If you kiss an unconscious woman, I am gonna call a real cop.” I grinned. “She just had a shock is all. She will come around. She doesn’t even have a water bottle in here, let me get her some cold water.”

When I returned with the water, Ranger was unbuttoning her blouse. “What the hell are you doing?” I was smiling even thought he words were harsh.

“Getting her some air she is sweating.”

“If you keep that up she will really be sweaty.” I said it as I dabbed her face with the cold water on a towel.

A second late a conscious Eve burst into tears. She clutched at the Ranger so I figured they didn’t need me.

“Writer, why don’t you take Eve to lunch? I can’t leave the park just now. She needs some food and maybe a stiff drink.”

“Food we can do. The drink will have to wait.”

“Eddie won’t open till seven.”

“Take her to the Bluebird for coffee, Get her a decent meal while you are at it.”

 

[wildsweetone]

hmmm

 

[MysteryWriter]

indeed

.

 

[wildsweetone]

The courtroom was silent when the judge entered. Nodding to the courthouse he sat, adjusting his wig with one hand. The other hand placed papers on the old wooden desktop.

He looked around the courtroom. The jury box was empty, this was after all only a preliminary hearing. The defendant sat an officer either side of his body. The lawyers were practically tripping over each other as they came forward to the desk.

"Sir, I'd like to adjourn this hearing on the grounds that the defendant is ill."

"Sir I object. We need to get this hearing underway. He's costing us a fortune sitting round in the jailhouse."

"He looks alright to me," the judge peered at the prisoner.

"Sir, he's been vomiting for the last 24 hours. We've taken him to the doc and she's given him something to calm his stomach. He isn't well enough to be fully aware of what's going on this morning. We'd like to adjourn until the day after tomorrow," the lawyer looked pleadingly at Judge Bush.

The judge looked closer at the accused. He did seem a little pale around the gills. He slammed his mallet onto its base. "This preliminary hearing is adjourned for 48 hours." He signed the forms.

"All stand," the court clerk boomed.

Everyone stood as Judge Bush gathered up his papers and left the room. Muttering came from the gallery, as the accused mechanic was lead from the room.

The officers took him straight out to the vehicle. They drove him from the courthouse back to the jail. The mechanic looked white faced as he sipped from his recycled water bottle. He lay back on the seat and dozed off to sleep.

He awoke when he realised I'd stopped the vehicle. I got out, opened his door and climbed onto the back seat. I unzipped his trousers, his feeble protest ignored. My partner quickly cuffed him with his arms above his head. I pulled his cock out with one hand. I was so hungry for him. I hadn't had him for two hours. I'd watched him sipping away at that water bottle knowing full well that he'd be horny as hell.

He sure was wanting it bad, so I gave it to him. Sucking him hard and fast till he came. Making sure he didn't spill any over my uniform, I swallowed it all.

He fainted right away after his orgasm. I zipped him up and drove back to the jail. The sheriff briefly commented on the handcuffs before shoving him back into his cell.

"What's with the cuffs?" he asked us.

"He was getting a bit delusional, so I cuffed him to be safe Sheriff," my partner answered.

"Get them off him," he ordered. "You'll be needing them again in a minute.

 

[wildsweetone]

i just want to say...

i liked my nun

 

[MysteryWriter]

roflmffao

we have no control. there are more surprises coming lol

 

[wildsweetone]

you might not believe this...

i surprise myself constantly

 

[wildsweetone]

The headlight flashed in the bike's side mirror. Glancing around I saw the vehicle close up. I revved up the bike a notch pulling away. It followed. I spotted a rest area in my headlights. Pulling off the road, I parked switching off the motor.

The van pulled up behind me. Lights went out. I waited in darkness. The van door closed, metal crunched underfoot. A hand moved up my chest to my shoulder. Next thing I felt was warm breath on my face as my helmet was removed. I stood stock still, mesmerised by what I was allowing to happen to me.

The kiss when it came was hot and searing. I lifted my hands to hold her head steady, encountering material; kind of long and stuck to her head in some way. It felt smooth and cool against my hands as my tongue invaded her mouth.

Her quiet moans stirred me deeply. I lifted the flowing material of her dress until it rested on her shoulders. My hand found with pleasure she was naked, smooth and soft against my palm. I bent my head, flicking my tongue over her breast, seeking her nipple. It nudged my cheek; like a baby I turned, taking her into my mouth I suckled.

Her arching back pushed the breast deep into my mouth, I swallowed on it feeling her nipple tickling the back of my throat. Her nails scratched my back as I eased off a bit and sucked some more.

She unzipped my leather trousers. Her sharp intake of breath made me smile as I knew she’d found I wore no underpants. Reaching inside she grabbed hold of my cock. Her hand strong and firm, but let go when I held onto her arse, lifting her up. Her legs wrapped around my waist as I lowered her onto me.

She was hot, slick and so damn tight I didn't think I'd fit. I took her mouth, loved it when she shoved her tongue down my throat. I let her arse go and she screamed as I fucked her deep. Warm wetness trickled down my cock and over my engorged balls. I pumped her hard until she screamed loud in my ear again. Her muscles clenched around me as my seed shot into her covering her and me at the same time.

She slumped against me. I lifted her carefully off me and stood her on the ground holding her steady while she rearranged her dress. I let her go. Walking over to my bike, I grabbed a cloth from the back box. I wiped myself clean, grabbed another cloth for her. I turned to pass it to her. She'd gone. No sound from the minivan no goodbye. She'd simply vanished.

It wasn't until after I'd slept the clock round in the writer's van that I thought to check the bike box again. The cloth was still there. It wasn't just covered in our sex, it was covered in dried red blood.

 

[Lisa CJ]

Love it!

 

[wildsweetone]

*blushing*

thank you

 

[wildsweetone]

I was helping mum in the courthouse. It was my chance to do the community service thing. STX was full of guys who wanted to do the CS stuff. Me, I just wanted to get it over and done with so I could get out and play round a bit before my wings were clipped again.

Trouble was, I kept getting sidetracked. I'd find myself in the research room and I'd sit on my arse watchin my mother battin her eyelids at the writer.

I knew he was completely hooked with her. I'd seen him droolin every time he'd come to look stuff up. Felt like I wanted to punch his lights out when he sneaked out back last week and snogged her.

They didn't know I'd been watching. Hell, anyone coulda walked right in and seen 'em at it.

Here they were at it again. They hadn't spotted me either. It was sure gonna be my lucky day today. I sneaked behind the shelves and flicked the lock on the door. The three of us’d be safe from spies.

I watched them. His hands were all over her, he'd got them up the front of her blouse. They were makin so much damn noise with their kissin though, I figured they wouldn't hear me.

I knelt on the floor beside them. Mums tits were right at my eye. I grabbed hold of one, holding my breath. She didn't notice. I flicked my tongue over her nipple. I sucked it gently. It felt so fuckin good. I'd wanted to do this for so damn long.

He moved back a little bit, his hand holding her other breast. Seemed she was happy to just keep snoggin tho'. So I kept on sucking.

My hand went up her thigh. The heat from her pussy nearly put me off. I undid the button an’ zip on her jeans burying my face in her pussy. She smelt so good. She thrust her hips against my face when my tongue went a wanderin’. I licked her clit til I heard her moanin'.

It was sure odd the way the writer moved back like that. Kinda like he wanted me to do it to her. Still, I wasn't gonna protest or nothin'. I moved between 'em and poked her hard with my tongue. Oh she was sweet honey on my tongue. I shoved it deep inside her. She was writhin and moanin so damn hard I nearly came in my pants.

She let loose all over my face. I was soaked in it. No control left for me now as I let rip myself, soaking my jeans, feelin it runnin down my leg. What a fuckin mess. What an amazing cunt my mother has.

I licked her squeaky clean before I quietly left the room. I don't think she figured it out yet. But I sure knew I was on my way to hell for enjoying her like that.

What the fuck... I was already there.

 

[MysteryWriter]

the blue bird diner

“Hey writer, get your fat ass out of bed.” Being woke up by Ranger Jane was getting to be far too common an event.

“What is it this time Jane?”

“I wanted to be with you when you saw our latest occupant.” She laughed a wicked laugh just for me.

The small camper, not much larger than my minivan, had a huge sign on it. It read, ‘Emma Pain...Vampire stalker/killer (freelance).’

“What the fuck?” I asked.

“Seems the nun with the missing blood has attracted the loons,” Jane commented.

“It would appear so.”

“Oh yeah and Mike escaped last night. Just walked out the fucking door.”

“I don’t get it. How did he manage that bit?”

“Somebody came to visit him dressed as a clown. Barney thought it was cute, so he let her visit. Mike walked out as the clown. They waited till the guards changed. Then he walked out as the clown. He is wandering around somewhere now dressed as John Gacy.”

“You mean we have a sad serial killer clown running loose. This is getting better and better all the time. I am going to the dinner Juanita baked the biscuits today.”

“Ah you like your biscuits crisp?” Jane grinned.

“Well if you don’t get Juanita’s biscuits early, you never know where they have been.” I laughed so hard I was worried that I might sound a little crazy myself.

At the diner Juanita was hoping one of her favorite fucks would come in that day. She had been with the librarian’s daughter and frankly needed a cock. That little minx could suck the gold plate off a brass door knob.

When the writer came in, she pulled him to the store room. Her knees were on the dusty floor before he knew what was happening. First thing his cock was in her warm wet mouth. He could feel the immediate pressure in his balls. Juanita was an accomplished cock sucker. She had the tip deep in her throat when I moaned. She knew the sound.

Juanita immediately withdrew, then turned to place her upper body over a box filled with cherry pie filling. With her ass in the air I knelt on the floor. I slipped my cock into her warm wet cunt. The walls of her cunt spread for my cock as I moved it deeper inside her body. I felt her open for me like a leather glove on a winter morning.

When the noises from her began to reach a loud enough volume, I began to concentrate on cumming inside her hot body.

The load seemed to begin in my toe nails. It worked its way up my body to my cock, then past it. My scalp itched as I dumped the load deep inside her.

I shivered while her interior muscles seemed to concentrate on milking me. Her interior cunt stoked me until my cock was too sensitive to remain inside her.

Breakfast wasn’t bad either.