The heat really got intense as the nights wore on. Almost as though he had learned the police had assigned their ace investigator to the case, the rapist began accelerating his activity, striking sometimes more than once a night. Because of the growing intensity of the case, by now I was with Ted almost constantly as we worked around the clock trying to solve the crimes. They wouldn't have approved of it downtown, but for the time being I was living with him so we wouldn't have any problems throwing ourselves at each other in an orgy of fucking and sucking whenever we had a few moments to ourselves.
God, I was crazy about Ted. The first night with the sado-masochistic tricks was just a prelude to an endless variety of sex Ted had brewing in his libido. Jesus, what a man to have at your side. No wonder he was the department's top sex crime investigator – there was no trick a sex maniac could think of that Ted hadn't already thought of. How could they elude him when he had a dirtier mind than they did, and was always one jump ahead of them?
The thing about Ted was that no matter what the sexual activity was – sado-masochism, bondage, reversed sex roles, leather, golden showers – he always threw himself into it with the utmost conviction, so that each time we fucked in a different way, I really believed that this was really his thing. I don't know, but maybe in the scope of his limitless supercharged libido, there was room for them all.
In any case, the combination of hard work and hard fucking apparently seemed to agree with me because even after a few hours' sleep, I was never tired. Despite irregular meals, usually picked up on the run in greasy spoon joints like the Whammo Burger, I actually gained three pounds, all of it apparently going to my cunt, Ted laughingly suggested.
We spent a great deal of time going over the rapist's mode of operation, looking for clues we might have previously missed. Increasingly, however, we were being interrupted by the report of a new assault and would have to race to the scene of a new rape, always to find some poor woman with her clothes torn off, raped and beaten to a pulp, her abused cunt looking like one of the lacerations covering her naked bruised body after her crazed assailant had gotten through with her.
If the victim remembered anything, it was always the same thing – the rapist apparently had an enormous cock, and being ravaged by it was apparently enough to obliterate the memory of anything else.
Two days short of our first month's anniversary together, Ted and I were huddled in a small dingy room at the station chewing pencil stubs and drinking cold coffee, wishing for clues, when the phone rang as it so frequently did lately.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" Ted said when he got the message, slamming the receiver down.
"What happened?"
"He just struck again."
"Where?"
"Outside General Hospital. He just raped the director of nursing."
We dashed out of the building and piled into the special squad car we were using, a special driver loaned to us from downtown on stand-by to whisk us to the scene of the latest atrocity.
The squad car wheeled around corners on two wheels toward General Hospital. When we got there, there was the usual circle of panic around the victim, even experienced hands aghast at the pitiful wreck her naked body had become. But this time, in addition to the customary similarities, there was also something markedly different from anything that had happened before.
"This time we spotted him," a uniformed cop said frantically to Ted.
"What?" Ted blurted, startled by the first break in the case.
"Right, we gotta look at him. The cop on the beat got here just as the guy was finishing with her. Saw him run down McKinley Avenue right over there and turn right in an alley on Harding going south. An A-P-B's already been put out for him and we just got a probable sighting that he was seen going north on Tyler Boulevard."
"Quick, let's get the hell over there," Ted said, grabbing me and pushing me toward the car.
Running red lights and taking short cuts the wrong way up one-way streets, with our siren screaming, we sped toward Tyler Blvd., our eyes glued to the streets whizzing by for some sign of our quarry.
Tyler Blvd. was one of the most run-down streets in town, and when we got there, we realized from the total darkness that the streetlights were all out of order. The wind howled through the skeletons of abandoned and burned out houses that dotted the street like remnants of a siege.
Suddenly a small streak of color darted across the desolate landscape of the bleak void of Tyler Blvd.
"Jesus Christ, did you see that?" Ted said.
"Who, what…"
"A man," Ted cried. "I'm going to get him."
"Wait for me," I said after I caught my wits, but by then he was already out of the car and disappearing into the darkness, his form almost instantaneously eclipsed by the looming shadows.
I looked puzzled for a moment, then decided with a sigh, "I guess all there is to do is sit and wait."
But I still felt uneasy. I felt that it was my responsibility to be backing Ted up in some way in case anything happened, and I felt frustrated that there seemed no way at the moment I could fulfill it.
"Did you see where he went?" I asked the driver.
"You gonna try and cover him?" the driver said, turning to face me. We had been so busy that it was the first time I'd ever really noticed what he looked like. He was in his early twenties and just out of the Police Academy.
"I think so," I said tersely, trying to conceal the franticness I felt inside.
"Well, good luck, ma'am, but it's impossible to see out there. You might wind up shooting each other."
"Yes, that's good thinking…" I said, pausing for a name that I suddenly realized I either couldn't recall, or in the arrogance of my recent sense of self-importance, had been too selfishly busy to ask.
"O'Hara. Thomas O'Hara, but my friends call me Red."
I could see why, a lock of flaming red hair poking out from under his cocked cap. "Red O'Hara," I laughed spontaneously, "at least that's a swell name for a cop."
I'd kind of embarrassed him and I saw his naturally red face get even redder as he blushed at my teasing.
"You're shy," I said in surprise, my mind suddenly a million miles away from the dreary blackness of Tyler Blvd. "How did such a shy young guy become something as violent and blusterous as a cop?"
"By relatives," he admitted, his green eyes twinkling from telling one on himself. "My dad was a cop, my uncle's one, a couple of cousins, and my mother's father -so you can see…"
"Well, you must have inherited something from them because I think your reasoning about going out there after Ted is very sound," I said, getting back with a lurch to the reality at hand. "My body tells me to go out there after him, but my head tells me you're right – it would probably only make things worse."
"Anyway, he'll probably be back in just a few minutes," O'Hara said. "It was probably just a stray cat he saw. An orange one, maybe."
"Maybe," I said pensively.
"You cold?" O'Hara asked.
"You better believe it," I said, feeling the cooling night air.
"Then why don't we roll up the windows and you come up here in the front seat where the heater is so it can warm up your legs. It must be cold back there with those bare legs."
Bare legs. Funny, but when he said that, I suddenly became very conscious of them and could feel goosebumps rising all along them past the tops of my stockings all the way to my inner thighs, pinching against the elastic of my panties.
It occurred to me that the cold had not seemed to affect my legs at all until O'Hara made his remark about them. And now there were tingling, sending vibrations all the way up to the base of my crotch – and it didn't seem as though it had anything to do with the cold.
"No, that's all right. I'll be okay back here," I said, trying to defeat the sensual tingling coursing up and down my trembling legs.
"Okay, ma'am," O'Hara said, "but if you'll pardon me for saying so, you look a little blue."
"Really?" I blurted, anxious to believe that the cold actually was responsible for the strange way I was feeling.
He nodded his head.
"All right," I agreed, and rolled up the window, starting to get out of the car and come around to the front.
"No, no, wait, don't do that," O'Hara said, reaching over the seat and putting his hand around my wrist to stop me from opening the door. "You'll let out whatever warm air is already in the car and it'll be a bitch… uh, tough to heat it up from scratch."
"Then how will I get into the front?" I asked.
"Just climb over," he said, and then added with a subtle but discernible wink, "I'll help you."
Was he kidding or what, I wondered for a second and then drove it out of my mind. I decided I must not be as good under pressure as I'd thought I was especially if Ted leaving for a few minutes was going to get me as disoriented and jumpy as this.
"Sure, sure," I said after taking a deep breath, leaning forward in order to clamber over the seat on the passenger's side.
I hoisted myself up and balanced myself on my waist at the top of the seat. I put my hands down on the seat for a grip to let myself down, but the surface was slicker than I had anticipated and my palms slid forward, throwing my torso off balance on the backrest and lurching my hips and ass abruptly forward, the back of my skirt flying up in the process.
Literally humped in the ridiculous position, jack-knifed over the seat, at first I felt embarrassment about my lack of coordination and loss of dignity, especially the latter when I felt the still cold air lapping against the cheeks of my upturned ass through my flimsy panties.
Then, the embarrassment turned to shock when without warning the cold air changed into a cold hand, the fingers grasping strongly over the bulging cheeks of my ass, the feeling of flesh on flesh highly vivid to me through my gossamer panties.
"C'mon," he said, "let me give you a little help here and I'll ease you down."
I looked up from my ridiculous vantage point and got a clear view of his young Irish face, and couldn't think of anything to say.
He took my silence as an okay and immediately I could feel his hand repositioning itself down further so that his fingers no longer just grabbed my ass but were now cupping my cunt, straining against the filmy crotch of my panties.
My pussy, functioning as though it had a mind of its own, responded to the stimulation of his fingers by abandoning its restraint and suddenly spilling a trickle of creaming juice. As I felt the dampness abruptly spreading in a widening circle on the crotch of my soon-to-be-sopping panties, a gulping flush came over my body, and reflexively I quickly opened my thighs, allowing his fingers to pop into the gushing slit of my cunt. Then, just as reflexively, I closed them, trapping him inside my cunt with only the invisible panties separating his hand from the throbbing oozing meat of my pussy.
He moved his fingers like they were ostensibly trying to get out, but the combination of both of our movements seemed to only drive them further into my cunt so that my pussy muscles started to contract uncontrollably and the aroused membrane excreted more and more sticky cream to seep through my panties and drench O'Hara's probing hand.
"Oh, God," I moaned, finally admitting my condition and the situation out loud, "don't you think we should stop?" But then I impulsively wiggled my ass and felt his fingers expand deliriously inside my cunt, his nails gouging thrillingly into my ultra-sensitive pussy walls.
"But we've got to keep warm," he said with a big lopsided grin, "and I can't think of a better way, ma'am."
He had a point there. Every time I moved my ass, his fingers jammed more tightly up my pussy, and a new flood of heat roared through my body, starting at my cunt and spreading warmly all over me.
"Just close your eyes and relax, and I guarantee I'll have you warmed up in a minute," he promised.
I closed my eyes and imagined what was happening to my slurping cunt.
My mind drew a picture of a big, hairy cunt with bright red lips, an aggressive, assertive organ, the way I imagined my cunt. But instead of imagining fingers stuffing their way inside of it, I saw something else – something a lot more exciting. The panties had been pushed away and the cunt was open, hairily pared for some sweet thing to penetrate it. All of a sudden, a huge, throbbing cock loomed and rammed into the cunt, the pussy lips closing gratefully around the surging prick, grabbing onto the pounding shaft with a drooling lock.
From that moment on I couldn't focus on anything but the image of what I imagined his cock to be like, a long marble column with freckles on it and a shockingly blue vein coursing along the underside, a beautiful prick jutting from a clump of red hair and supporting a pair of egg-sized balls.
And when I opened my eyes I had to blink a couple of times to make sure they still weren't closed. Because before me was the same prick I had just been thinking about. He'd undone his fly and pulled his cock out of his pants, balls and all, and placed his stiff prick right under my nose.
At first, I was immobilized by how stunned I was, but when he gave me an extra thrust of his gooey fingers up my creaming cunt, I threw myself instinctively onto his burgeoning cock and began sucking it, feeling the knotty head fill my throat with its muscular bulge.
I could only think of his stiff cock and the pulsing thrill that was growing in my pussy. I was responding like a bitch in heat.
Because of the odd position in which I dangled, it was a lot easier to swallow his tremendous cock whole. Almost instantly I found my nibbling lips pressing against the hairy pouch of his throbbing balls as I had his prick all the way to the hilt in my slobbering mouth.
It was difficult for me to suck upward, so when I did, it was all the more slower and agonizing for him, his foreskin being dragged by my clutching lips only a fraction at a time until, by the time I got to the end of his cock, the head of his prick was about ready to spurt, teased into a state of unbearable tension as it pulsated between my lips.
Then, just as he was on the verge of filling my mouth with hot cum, I would prolong the agony by swooping downward in less than a second, temporarily drowning his struggling cock in a lake of my sticky saliva.
Then, I started up again, mercilessly boring down on him again, his prick seeming to grow an inch in stiffness with each repetition of my exquisite torture.
But it was all a game I was playing with my mouth because I knew where I wanted his engorged cock to finish its pounding, ejaculating a creamy stream of jizz at the end of its final flex in my cunt, spraying my insides with his gooey sauce. I put my hands to his cock, feeling where it entered my puckered lips, and began sliding it out, feeling its dimensions slide through my mouth, the knotty, bulging head lingering throbbingly before it popped out.
"Fuck me," I rasped. "Stick it in my cunt. Fuck me!"
Out of the corner of my eye I could see him clamber over into the back seat so he could get a shot at me. Quickly he was hovering over my back, pulling down my panties, his hot breath against the back of my neck as he guided his hot, hard prick between the engorged lips of my pussy and securely into my cunt, filling my pussy with stiff cock.
I could feel him jam into me again and again, the position we were in allowing his long cock to penetrate me to the maximum, which in his case was at least ten inches. My cunt throbbed from the battering it was taking from the concrete head of his cock as he pounded away at me like a jack hammer, shattering my throbbing loins with one thrust after another up my pulsing grateful cunt. Oh, God, I was delirious as I did everything I could to get his cock up me further, wiggling my ass and screwing down on his prick like I was going to swallow his cock and balls with my voracious cunt.
And then I gasped for breath as I realized that his cock had, incredibly, just grown some more inside me, fantastically thickening and stretching as it stretched the cavity between my legs into a cavern, pushing the limits of my cunt and womb all the way up to my throat it seemed. Sweet Jesus, he was getting ready to come – I could feel it! And soon the creamy warmth of his jizz would be coating my insides.
His voice abruptly interrupted my reverie as he said, "I'm ready to come… and I've got a little trick that'll take you right along with me. You game?"
Was I game? Gamey was more like it. I'd do anything to trigger the explosion of his creaming prick in my cunt. I certainly didn't need any help in coming, but a little extra fuel in the tank never hurts, so I begged him to do whatever he wanted to me.
But it was almost more than I bargained for when suddenly I felt something cold and metallic nudging my asshole, the sensitive flesh recoiling in tight puckering.
"What's that?" I asked.
"My other pistol," he chuckled and I realized that he was in the process of sticking the barrel of his service revolver up my ass, fucking me with his gun and cock at the same time.
Well, why not, it suddenly occurred to me as I murmured, "Uh huh," and dreamily wiggled my ass to trap his cock in my cunt even more securely and invite him to explore with his rod up my tight, waiting asshole.
The coldness of his gun only lasted a brutal shocking moment as it slid like ice up my throbbing asshole. But just as quickly as it seemed as though my guts would freeze and shatter from the chilling shock. The friction from his gun barrel sliding up and down my asshole seemed to cause sparks which ignited fires all through me, culminating in an inferno between my legs, my ass a molten knot of pounding fury, and my cunt stuffed to the slimy brim with a big, sweet cock.
My coming started just before his so that I was able to field his climax. My cunt smothered and choked his cock, wringing it dry of every gooey drop of jizz and pulling it further and further inside me as he came and came again. Oh, it was delicious as my cunt literally popped with pleasure.
O'Hara was certainly right, the combination of his gun barrel fucking me in the ass, while his cock reamed out my voracious cunt, had gotten me off… spectacularly.
But he wasn't finished, working the gun barrel up my self-lubricating asshole long after his cock had stopped spurting and was growing limp inside my pussy. I wondered what he was doing and then started imagining in my uncontainable lust whether it was possible to come separately in my ass. I could envision a tightening of those vise-like muscles in my rectum and then an explosion of release, starting from my bowels and blowing like a stiff wind through my asshole. "Hee, hee," I couldn't help giggling, "it sounds just like a fart."
"What'd you say, baby," he asked as he continued to pump his revolver up my willing ass.
"Oh… nothing… nothing," I, moaned, "just keep shoving. Fill my ass with your iron."
"Gladly," he said, jabbing further and at the same time reactivating his dick, which now started to grow harder in my cunt, replenishing itself for another pounding fuck.
The motions of intense sex started again, the jack-hammer probing of his two rods and the jiggling movement of my ass as the renaissance of our fuck began.
And then suddenly I thought we had gone too far, that O'Hara had lost his mind in the erotic agony I was putting him through and had killed me. That was the first thing that went through my mind when I heard the explosion – I thought he'd gotten so excited he'd pulled the trigger of his gun and filled my ass with hot lead.
What a way to go, I thought, but just as quickly realized that I was still in one piece and that the gunshot had come from somewhere outside the car.
"Oh, my God, Ted!" I blurted and suddenly found myself back in reality, and embarrassingly so, with a throbbing prick stuck up my foaming cunt and the steel prong of a gun barrel six inches up my ass.
I pulled out and fell down from the backrest, opening the front door in the same motion as I toppled to the seat. I got out of the car and yanked up my sopping panties and pulled down my skirt and ran toward the crack of the shot, my service revolver unholstered for the first time since I'd held it on that boy in the alley.
"Ted… Ted!" I called. "Are you all right? Did you fire that shot?"
Blam! Another shot rang out, but this one a lot closer to me as I edged around the corner of a crumbling building.
"Ted!" I implored.
Blam! This one was so close that I could feel it. It passed just inches over my head, seeming to part my hair, ricocheting off the bricks and screaming into the night.
There was no doubt about it, they were shooting at me.
Instantly, survival became the only consideration in my frantic brain. Before I could help anybody, I had to take care of this maniac shooting at me. Otherwise, I was dead.
My eyes combed the darkness, sifting through it for some sign of whoever was shooting at me. Everything was an inky blackness, until it was breached for a split second by an orange flash accompanied by the explosion of gun powder. Another shot whizzed by me and thudded into the wall behind me.
It was pure reflex that made me pull the trigger, sending a shot of my own whistling in the direction of the flash I'd seen. I was quickly answered by a retaliation of fire from the same spot and I squeezed off two more of my own, pumping them in rapid fire at my invisible target.
Then, to my surprise, there was no more gunfire and I just waited in the total darkness. Just as I was wondering what move I should make next, the eerie silence of the night was shattered by a mournful groan coming from where I had seen the gunfire.
"O'Hara," I yelled back to the car.
"Yeah?" he called back.
"I'm over here… by the nearest building."
"Yeah, yeah, I got you spotted."
"Then come over here and cover me while I go check on what's happened. Somebody was shooting at me and I think maybe I hit them."
When O'Hara had caught up with me, I left him there and advanced toward where I thought I'd heard the moaning. After about ten feet I knew I was on the right track as I heard a second moan coming from somewhere right along my path.
Twenty-five feet farther in an alley a third moan was ringing in my ears and I realized that it was coming from right around the corner of a building where whoever it was had taken cover.
I stepped around the edge of the building with my gun cocked and pointing down, ready to pull the trigger if anything moved. It's a good thing he was unconscious because if he had moved a muscle I would have blasted him point-blank. As it was I was staring Ted in the face.
Yes, it was Ted. O'Hara's grisly prediction had come true – we had wound up shooting at each other in the total darkness. Only I, the rookie on the force with no experience with a gun, had wound up being a better shot than Ted, an experienced, crack detective.
There were two gaping holes in his chest where I had apparently hit him side by side with my final salvo of shots. He was breathing, but just barely as the blood welled from the oozing holes, one of them dangerously near his heart.
He lay there on his back, clutching his now useless gun in one hand and something else in the other. Something made me look down and see they were a pair of white panties, torn and bloody.
"Oh, my God, what's happened!" I exclaimed as a queasy feeling attacked me and I began to faint, my gun clattering to the ground and going off from the impact, the explosion echoing wildly in the alley.
The last thing I remember before I slipped to the ground and closed my eyes to a blackness even deeper than Tyler Blvd. was O'Hara catching up with me and saying with bitter words that momentarily sliced through my haze before I passed out, "So you killed your partner, huh?"