I was close to cumming in sweet thing’s mouth. I said, “Yeah… dad… hold on… just a… second.”
I put my hand over the phone and gritted my teeth. Sweet thing’s hand pumped the shaft of my cock with lightning speed. I curled my toes and squeezed my eyes shut and shot my load into her mouth. She took it like a champ. She sucked and pumped and sucked until there was nothing left for me to give. She hummed as she held my cock steady between her hands and licked it clean.
“That was awesome,” she said, cleaning the corners of her lips with her fingertips.
“Yes, it was,” I said, tugging up my pants as she pulled her dress up over her tits. I stepped aside to let her open the door. She tried to kiss me as she passed, but I turned my head and shook my head. I had no desire to taste my own jizz. She shrugged, then hooked her fingers in the sides of her dress to pull it in place and shimmied past me.
“I’ll be back at the table,” she said.
“Great,” I said. “See if anybody has a breath mint.”
I shut and locked the door, then sat on the toilet to take a nice after blowjob piss and talk to my old man.
“So, dad, we’ll find someone to take Boozie’s place,” I said. “Leave it to me.”
“Okay, if you’re sure,” he said with a heavy sigh. He sounded old and tired. “Just make sure it’s someone we can trust. You know the feds are still sniffing around.”
My dad had a contact on the inside of every law enforcement organization in the city. He knew who was sniffing around, what they were sniffing around for, and who he had to pay to make things go away.
“Dad, just get some rest. I’ll start looking around for Boozie’s replacement tomorrow.”
“Okay, son, good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay, dad, goodnight.”
I slid the cellphone into the inside pocket of my jacket and braced my elbows on my knees to finish pissing.
I’d already set up a place in Tampa for Boozie and she’d get a nice monthly retirement payment deposited directly into her bank account until the day she died.
The old bat would make more in retirement than 99% of other Americans made slaving at their day job. I guess it was fair payment for putting up with my old man all these years.
Hell, I’d only known him thirty-five years and most days, I could barely stand to be around him. I couldn’t imagine being fucked by him for forty years.
Claire
How does one go from being an undercover Vice cop to being a member of the Organized Crime Task Force? Well, if you ask the other assholes on the team they’ll tell you that I slept my way to the top, to which I reply: if you think this is the fucking top, you need to raise the bar considerably.
This ain’t the top, bitches.
Shit, this ain’t even th
e middle.
And I’d never fuck anybody just to get a job, even if that body was my hot ex-husband who knew exactly how to make my toes curl.
I graduated from NYU with a Bachelor’s Degree in Criminal Justice. It was my intention to go on to graduate school, then to law school to become a prosecuting attorney. I had too high of a moral compass to be a defense lawyer. If I knew someone was guilty, I couldn’t defend them, regardless of how deep their pockets were or how entitled they were to a good defense.
I wasn’t interested in private or corporate law, though that’s where the money was. I wanted to prosecute bad guys. I wanted to do my part in making the world a safer place.
I decided to take a break from college when I was offered a job with the Police Department. They were recruiting recent grads and one of my professors told me getting a year or two of police work under my garter belt would help me get a better handle on the justice system, which would ultimately make me a better prosecutor.
So, I entered the police academy at age twenty-two. I wasn’t crazy about the uniform or some of the good old boys I had to deal with, but there was one instructor that caught my attention right out of the gate.
Sergeant Ed Henry was tall, lean, and handsome, with little wire-rimmed glasses that slid down to the tip of his elegant nose as he spoke. He looked so handsome in his black uniform. He had broad shoulders and long legs. And when he stood just right I could tell that he was packing much more than the Glock 17 that was holstered on his hip.
He caught my eye one day and I caught his and that was all she wrote. We had a drink after class, which led to another drink and then another. Which led to a wild make-out session in the back seat of his squad car. Which led to a weekend of fucking and sucking and doing anything and everything two young horny people could do to one another. I came away from that weekend with a sore cooch and sore nipples and handcuff scrapes on my wrist. Christ, it was fun.
I should have known better than to hook up with a fellow cop, especially one who had the reputation that Ed did, but the heart (pussy) wants what the heart (pussy) wants. I knew he was fucking other women, but so long as he came home to me that was all right. I figured he would be faithful when we got married. Till then, let him sow his wild oats.