It was a dark and stormy night and I could barely see the road when I drove into the diner's parking lot.
CAHILL—Part 1 of 6 by Senorlongo
The characters in all of my stories are fictitious, but most—if not all—of the places are usually real. Included are towns, cities, roads, restaurants, and even menus. In this story, however, virtually all of the places are figments of my imagination. There is no Bascomb County, no Bascomb’s Landing, and no Lulubelle’s Diner. They are merely tools I have used to make the story realistic. As in all of my stories there is plenty of sex, but only when it fits into the plot of the story. If you’re looking one meaningless sex act after another I suggest you look elsewhere. If you are looking for sex, romance, mystery, and adventure, then stick around and read. It is a long story—154 pages--in six parts, so don’t be surprised if the story takes a while to develop. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Sr. Longo.
I could hear the din from the bar as I exited my SUV and I was still almost a block away. What a shame! I knew from long experience that would change as soon as my foot crossed the threshold. I tend to have that effect on people. I’m six feet six inches tall and I weigh an even 250 pounds—all of it broad shouldered muscle. My Body Mass Index at my last physical was less than four percent. My light brown hair is styled exactly the way it’s been for the past fifteen years—ever since I first joined the Navy.
Sure enough, no sooner had I taken my first step into the bar than the noise died. When I turned left and stepped up to the bar the people there couldn’t back away fast enough. I took a stool in the middle of the empty space and sat down, waiting for the bartender to approach. “I’m not looking for any trouble.”
“Good…neither am I. Give me a ginger ale.” He reached under the bar for a glass and some ice. Twenty seconds later he slid the glass in my direction. I pulled a fiver from my pocket and dropped it on the bar. He ignored it and walked away to draw a few beers and pour some wine. It looked to me that this was a pretty cheap crowd. Checking up and down the bar all I could see were longnecks and drafts.
I reached into the lower left pocket of my cargo pants. Like almost everything else I was wearing they were a true deep navy blue. My heavy shoes were black as was my wide belt. My belt said as much about me as the bold white lettering across my chest. Just below the American flag over my heart were the letters that were my life—U. S. MARSHAL. On my right hip was my nickel plated .44 Magnum Colt Python, just behind two speed loaders in addition to the twenty-four rounds on the belt. On my left hip was my ASP Talon baton—every bit as deadly a weapon in my hands as the revolver. A pouch at the back of my right hip held my stainless steel handcuffs and its partner on the opposite side held my radio—my link to my backup team.
I placed the photo flat on the bar as the bartender returned to me. “I’ll have another,” I said in a loud voice, continuing soto voce so I wouldn’t be overheard. “Don’t pick it up and don’t make a production of looking at it. I’ve been told that he comes here a lot. Is he here tonight? If he is and he escapes because you’ve given me away I’ll see to it that you’re arrested for obstruction of justice.”
He gulped a few times but did as he was told, nodding slightly in response. I continued almost at a whisper. “If my nose is pointing to twelve o’clock, my right ear to three, the back of my head to six, and my left ear to nine, tell me where he is. Again, don’t point or do anything obvious and we’ll be fine.”
He pretended to wipe the bar as he whispered, “About 4:30 with his back to you.”
I picked up the reflection in the mirror then asked, “Red shirt with black and white stripes, looking away from me?” He nodded again. Now, in my normal tone of voice I asked, “Where’s the men’s room?”
He must have been a quick study because he caught on immediately. “Take the hallway to your right…last door on your right.” I turned, not to my right, but to my left so the people at his table wouldn’t see me loosen the leather strap from my holster, tucking it up and under the top edge where it wouldn’t interfere with my draw. I thumbed the safety off then I spun around and slowly walked toward the hallway.
I was only a few feet from him when I pivoted, my left foot crossing in front of my right. A fraction of a second later my big left hand was on his neck, pushing his head onto the table. “Michael Clifford, you are under arrest for kidnapping, rape, sodomy, murder, interstate flight to avoid prosecution, and violations of the Mann Act. Place your hands flat on the table. In fact, all of you…hands flat on the table.”
I was pleased to see the two at my left comply immediately as well as those seated at nearby tables. Clifford, however, and his buddy to the right needed a bit more persuasion. The sound as I cocked the hammer on my Python reverberated through the now silent room. “Listen carefully because I’m only saying this once. What you feel at the back of your head is the business end of a Colt Python—a .44-Magnum. If I see either you or your friend pull any kind of weapon there will be about a half-inch hole in the back of your skull, but in the front there will be nothing but gore. It will blow your face half way across the room. NOW! Place your hands on the table.” I wasn’t at all surprised to hear something “clunk” as it fell to the floor.
Clifford’s hands came up empty. His friend, however, was either deaf or just plain stupid. I didn’t want to shoot him out of fear that the bullet might pass through his body then strike and injure one of the bar’s patrons behind him. I holstered the revolver quickly and pulled my ASP Talon baton. It’s roughly nine inches closed, but expands to almost twenty-eight with a flick of my wrist. I brought it down on his right wrist as soon as he moved to raise his hand. A switchblade rolled harmlessly onto the floor just a millisecond after my second blow, a backhand that blew out his bicep and badly bruised his upper arm.
I still had my left hand on Clifford’s neck when I kicked the knife away toward the bar. I grabbed his friend by the hair and pulled him to the floor. I turned now to face the door.
“You…in the green shirt.” I continued once he pointed to his chest. “Yes…you; open the door and hold it open, but don’t stand in the doorway.” I moved a thin brass tube to my mouth and blew twice. There was no sound—nothing we could hear, but less than ten seconds later people in the bar gasped as Max, a 130-pound German Shepherd, ran through the portal. He stopped at my side as I pointed down at Clifford’s friend.
“You’ll be fine as long as you don’t move, but he’ll tear you to ribbons if you even blink. Max growled and bared his fangs as the hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up. The guy laid there not even breathing. My attention returned to Clifford as I pulled his left hand behind his back, applying the handcuff with my right. I followed up by snapping the cuff tightly around his right wrist.
Digging into the right-hand cargo pocket I removed a plastic wrist cuff that I wrapped tightly around his friend’s crossed wrists. Max was only inches from his face when I told him, “You’re either the best or the stupidest friend I’ve ever encountered. Your actions tonight will cost you at least ten years of your life.” I pulled both prisoners to the bar where I searched them once I had them off balance—legs back and apart, leaning forward against the edge of the high wooden structure. Clifford had a switchblade tucked into the cup of his briefs. Under the table I found two .38 caliber snub-nosed revolvers. I tucked them into my waistband. Only then did I radio my backup team. They ran in thirty seconds later with a team of EMT’s. I stood by while both captives were read their Miranda rights and were searched again. Both were wearing cowboy boots and, sure enough, both had large hunting knives hidden within their right boots.
We unloaded the pistols then tagged and bagged them before removing both suspects. I was the last one to leave and, as Max and I crossed the threshold, I turned to address the crowd. “I really am sorry to have ruined your evening. We’ve been chasing that bastard all over the Midwest for months. Believe me when I tell you this: you’ll sleep a whole lot better tonight knowing he’s behind bars.”
“How many women, Marshal?” A middle-aged man had stood to ask the question.
“Six…six beautiful young women kidnapped, raped, and sodomized before being brutally tortured and murdered—six families torn apart by their violent and senseless crimes. If all of you weren’t in potential danger I would have gladly exterminated vermin like him in a heartbeat. We thought he had an accomplice, but we weren’t sure. Now it looks like we were right.” I turned and strode into the dark starless night, Max walking easily at my side.
I’d had a brief talk with the other two who had been at the table with Clifford and friend—one Jordan Smith. They had told me that they knew Smith from high school, but hadn’t seen him in years until tonight in the bar. They willingly gave me their ID’s and told me that they were graduate students—one in California and the other in Massachusetts. It was easy to verify their stories. I did the following morning. They were in the clear; both had been hundreds of miles away when the crimes had been committed.
Clifford and Smith had been trapped by DNA evidence. Clifford had briefly served in the U.S. Army after graduating high school. He had been in basic training only three weeks when he lost his temper and tried to punch his drill instructor—a big mistake on his part. The DI took him down in a heartbeat. He was court marshaled and spent six months in the stockade before receiving a dishonorable discharge. His DNA was on file with the Army and it was that file that had led to his arrest. Both switchblades had traces of their victims’ DNA in cracks in the cases and the mechanisms that opened the blades. Tracking them down had been a long and arduous job, but that’s why they pay me the big bucks. I left for home in eastern North Carolina the following afternoon, planning on taking a well deserved three week vacation.
The skies were filled with dark threatening clouds when I left around three in the afternoon. I hadn’t been on the road an hour when the heavens opened and traffic slowed to a crawl. Max walked aimlessly in the back seat before lying down for a nap, leaving me to navigate through the maelstrom on my own. I was driving my personal vehicle—a specially modified Ford Explorer. It was a good dependable SUV with four-wheel drive, that had been structurally changed to accommodate Max, but even with it the trip was challenging. I had hoped to be at least a third of the way home by the time I stopped around ten that night, but it wasn’t to be. The interstate was closed due to flooding and I had to take an alternate through back roads that weren’t any better. A deputy sheriff tried to give me directions for a detour, but I must have taken a wrong turn in the heavy downpour. It wasn’t until 12:35 that I spied lights ahead on the dark deserted road. I prayed it wasn’t the “Hotel California” as I approached. Those lights turned out to be a diner—Lulubelle’s, if the big sign in the parking lot was to be believed. The sign in the window said “OPEN” when I drove into the empty lot.
I pulled on my yellow rubber rain parka, raising the hood over my head as I exited, leaving Max in the dry car. The sign said open, but the door was locked when I reached it. Looking in through the windows I could see a woman behind the counter and, peering into her eyes I could see her fear. I was hungry and thirsty and I was getting wet below my parka so I opened the front of the jacket and stood as close to the window as I could so she could read the letters on my shirt.
It took a few seconds, but I could see her relief when she exhaled and began to relax. A minute later she had opened the door and I had hung my parka on a nearby hook. “I’m surprised you’re open at this hour,” I said.
“I’m really not. That sign goes on automatically when I turn the lights on. I’m sorry, but I don’t have anything I can offer you.”
“How about a fountain soda and some chips or pretzels? It’s been a long difficult night.”
“Coke I can get for you and how about a couple of bags of chips? Think that will tide you over until tomorrow morning?” I smiled and nodded my appreciation as she went into the kitchen for the chips and a plate.
I was dumping potato chips onto the plate while she poured a large fountain Coke over ice. “Thank you, Ma’am. This plate was a good idea.”
“Well, when I saw the size of your hands I knew you’d never get them into one of those little bags.”
“I do appreciate it. Mind if I ask why you’re here at this ungodly hour?”
“My car doesn’t run too well in the rain and even if it did I still would have to drive through a big puddle to get home. Last time I tried, the damned thing stalled right in the middle and I was stuck until a tow truck pulled me out. I made a few calls, but nobody wants to come out in the rain. I think a lot of them are afraid of going through the puddle, so here I am.”
“Is there a motel anywhere nearby? I need a place for me and Max…my dog”
“Normally, I’d say you had about twenty miles to the nearest motel, but a deputy sheriff stopped in earlier and told me that the bridge over Bascomb’s Creek was closed. Apparently, it’s under water from flash flooding. Last time that happened, it was closed for two months while the state checked it out. It’ll be more than a hundred miles up north and around the lake and then another hundred back down. You’ll never make it in this weather. Half of the roads are probably flooded out.”
“Then I guess I’ll be sleeping in my car.”
“I wouldn’t do that either. The sheriff’s deputies will arrest you. There’s a county law about it. We had a problem with Gypsies a few years ago and that was the county’s solution. I guess it worked. They never returned”
“Surely, they wouldn’t arrest a federal officer.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you knew our sheriff. He’d take the greatest pleasure in locking you up. He’s a legend in his own mind. He’d brag about it for years. If you can get me home you can sleep on my couch. I’m Lucille; I own the diner.”
I laughed briefly before asking if she was also known as “Lulubelle.”
“That’s what my father called me when I was a baby. I thought it was cute when I was little, but I learned to hate it by the time I was ten. Unfortunately, he had opened the diner long before that and the name has stuck. And your name is…?”
“Matt…Matt Cahill.” Now it was her turn to laugh. “Don’t say it. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve heard someone say, ‘Cahill, U.S. Marshal?’ It’s probably more than five thousand times and in a bar it’s even worse. The more people drink the more times it’s repeated.”
We talked and joked around for about ten minutes while I ate and drank. I offered to pay, but was refused. “Register’s closed,” she informed me with a smile as I donned my rain parka and led her out into the rain. She locked up and set the alarm as I led her to my car.
“You’ll need to give me your hand when I open the door.” I continued when she looked up in shock. “Max will probably attack you. He won’t understand that you’re with me the first time. Once he gets a sniff of the two of us together you’ll be fine.”
I took her hand as I opened the door. Max was right there—on the job—to make sure I was okay. “It’s all right, Max. She’s a friend.” Lucy was shaking a bit when I pulled her hand toward Max’s muzzle, but those concerns died when Max leaned forward first to sniff and then to lick. “Okay, Lucy…you can get in now. Max likes to have his head and ears scratched, don’t you, boy?”
I had just taken my seat and removed the parka when I asked, “Okay, where do we go?” She pointed me to the left—the direction I was headed in when I stopped for my snack. The heavy rain forced me to go slowly through the dark streets. I did see a sign that said “Welcome to Bascomb’s Landing—Population 27,606. I could barely see the large puddle Lucy had warned me about. “Any idea how deep this is going to be?”
“Last big storm it was about seven inches…too much for my car.” I drove slowly, barely creating a wave as we passed through. Once on the other side she directed me through a series of turns until we turned off in front of a single-wide mobile home that looked like it had seen better days. Lucy must have read my mind because she immediately told me that it was much nicer in the daylight. Once I was dressed again for the weather I stepped out, opening the back door for Max. He followed Lucy to the door while I retrieved my bag from the back, slinging my two gun bags over my shoulder and grabbing Max’s bowls and a ten-pound bag of dog chow in my one free hand. I joined Lucy and Max less than a minute later.
Lucy considerately brought out an old bath sheet that I used to dry Max then I put out a bowl of water and a full bowl of food. He sat motionless despite his hunger until I released him to eat.
“Wow, he sure is well trained.”
“Yeah, I’ve had him since he was three months old. I was an MP in the Navy and I was involved in training several dogs there. Technically, Max belongs to the Marshals Service, but I’m the only person he’ll really obey. If something were to happen to me Max would have to be put down. He’s too big and too strong to adapt to another handler.”
Lucille looked at my two cases and asked, “Are those guns?”
“Yeah, the red one is a Winchester 12-gauge pump-action shotgun and—yes—it is loaded. The black one is an M-16 military rifle with a scope in case I have to be a sniper on a case. The last case where I used it was a bank robbery gone bad. Three robbers held twelve hostages until we figured out how to get to them. I never leave them in the car overnight for several reasons.”
“I guess you don’t want them stolen.”
“That’s one of the reasons. The other is that on occasion I’ve needed them during the night. I was in a motel in Mobile a few years ago when Max woke me. I heard a ruckus in the parking lot. It was late—almost 3:00 in the morning when I heard shots from an automatic rifle. It’s illegal for citizens to own fully automatic weapons so I was pretty sure it was some kind of criminal activity. I used the shotgun then, taking out three men who turned out to be members of a big Mexican drug cartel. Of course, I was shot in the process.” I pulled up the left sleeve on my shirt to show where the bullet had entered my bicep, commenting that it could have been much worse. Lucy reached forward to touch the slight circular indentation in my skin.
Max finished eating and drinking and walked to the door to be put out. “Don’t you need to put a leash on him?”
“No, I don’t even have one. He’ll be back in five minutes or less. Why don’t you tell me where we are while we wait?”
“This is Bascomb’s Landing, a small city in western Tennessee. I’ve lived here all my life. We were watching the Weather Channel in the diner and they said that I-40 was closed due to flooding. There are some low areas east of Memphis that are sometimes subject to flash flooding. Is that why you’re here?”
“Yeah, I was supposed to follow some detour, but it was all I could do to watch the road, let alone signs.”
“That figures. Hardly any strangers come here…no reason to. We’re pretty much off the beaten path here. Anyway, my folks met in the local high school and they still live here in an old house in the center of town. Dad sort of retired two years ago…or was it two and a half? Doesn’t matter; he’s retired and the diner is mine. It really is a good place to live. There’s hardly any crime although we have had a rash of armed robberies of some stores, mostly convenience stores, over the last three months—two men in raincoats with a shotgun and some kind of rifle. I hope that’s not a sign of the future. I love the city and just outside there are plenty of undeveloped wild areas where I like to hike and camp out. There’s some good fishing, too—small mouth bass and even trout in some of the streams.”
I had taken a good look at Lucy while she was speaking. Nobody would call her a ravishing beauty, but she had a pleasant wholesome appearance—tall and thin with smallish breasts and narrow hips. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail and it looked like she had incredible skin with only an occasional freckle. I thought that, with a little makeup and the right clothes, she’d look good—not great, but pretty good. More important than that—she had a positive upbeat personality, something that was a real asset in the restaurant business.
“What’s your story, Matt?”
“I’m told I was born in Brooklyn and that I lived with my parents in Nassau County, Long Island, but my parents took a long weekend to a resort in the Catskills in upstate New York when I was three. There was a fire and they were both killed because the sprinkler system didn’t work and they got trapped on the third floor. I was staying with friends at the time and I didn’t understand why my parents didn’t come back for me until my Uncle Chuck came to take me to live with him and my Aunt Nell. So I grew up with them in Wilmington, North Carolina. I went to the same high school as Michael Jordan, except that he was more than fifteen years ahead of me. I still live in the area in Carolina Beach.
“My uncle sued the hotel on my behalf and eventually they settled out of court for $950,000. To my uncle’s credit he invested the money and never spent a cent until he turned it over to me when I turned twenty-one.
“I played high school football and put the shot and threw the discus on the track team and I was a decent student, but rather than college I joined the Navy once I graduated choosing the military police once I had completed basic training. I served for four years then attended UNC—North Carolina—earning my Bachelor’s in Criminal Justice in three years before joining the Marshals Service. I’ve been with them for the past ten years. I’m working toward a Masters in Criminology online. I should have it in another six months…a year at most. I usually work on the courses at night except when I’m on a big case like the one I just finished.
“Five years ago I was given the opportunity to train a dog, something I’d done in the Navy. Max is the result of that training. He’s the best partner I’ve ever had. I just closed out an investigation involving a team of brutal rapists who tortured and murdered young women they kidnapped. I had one under control when I whistled for Max. He ran in from the car and kept the second suspect on the floor while I cuffed mine.”
“How’d he get out of the car?”
“It’s equipped with a panic bar like you’d see in a building and the door is spring-loaded so it also closes automatically. All I needed was someone to open the bar’s front door. Speaking of doors….” I opened the door and let Max in, drying him again, saying good night to Lucy and brushing my teeth in the kitchen sink before lying down on the couch. It was small and not very comfortable. I was trying to get into a tolerable position when Lucy returned in a robe.
“I’m sorry, Matt. I should have realized that the couch would be too small for you. Come and sleep in the bed with me. I think I can trust you. Come on.” She reached down to pull me up, holding my hand while she led me to the bedroom. It held a queen-sized bed and I saw immediately that the right side had been turned down, I assumed to accommodate Lucy. After thanking her I started to climb into the opposite. I stopped when Lucy began to laugh.
“Do you always sleep in your clothes?”
Um…no; I usually sleep in my boxers.”
“Well, why don’t you take everything else off? Don’t worry--I’m not going to rape you.” Then she laughed again and rolled over facing away from me. I stripped off my tee and my shoes and socks before dropping my cargo pants to the floor. A few seconds later I pulled my Colt from the holster, placing it on the floor where I could reach it easily if necessary. Max came to me for our nightly ritual of petting and ear-scratching before he walked to the foot of the bed and lay down to sleep.
I slept like the dead—just as I always did—safe in the knowledge that Max would awaken at the slightest disturbance. He’d saved my bacon any number of times in the past. There was nothing but the steady drumbeat of the falling rain on the aluminum roof all night.
The rain continued into the following morning, even after Lucy woke me at 8:30. “Take a shower if you wish, Matt. There’s no hurry. I don’t have to go in until 11:30. Okay if I put Max out?”
“Sure…Max, go with Lucy. She’ll put you out.” Max rose and stretched before loping down the hall with Lucy. I walked toward the bathroom then turned around to take a clean pair of boxers and a clean tee from my bag. I also carried my Colt into the bathroom, leaving it on the vanity while I turned on the hot water.
I’d learned how to wash myself quickly while in the Navy so I was drying myself with a fluffy towel when Lucy knocked on the door. “I have coffee in the kitchen when you’re done and I’m afraid I have bad news. I’m watching the Weather Channel and all the roads are flooded out. Looks like you’ll be my guest a while longer.”
“I really don’t want to impose on your hospitality.”
“You’re not. I’m glad to have the company. I’m pretty lonely here.”
“I find that hard to believe. You’re an attractive woman with an upbeat personality. Surely, you must go on dates.”
“Keep in mind that I know almost everyone here—if not from the diner then from church or from the city government. I’m on the City Council. Unfortunately, all the guys want from me is my pussy. There doesn’t seem to be anyone who wants a serious relationship with me.”
“I find you an interesting, even intriguing, woman. I’m surprised you’re not married.”
“You’re obviously a successful businesswoman who could act superior and aloof. Instead, you’re friendly and open—the kind of person who offers a total stranger a place to stay. People like you don’t come around every day. That’s the truth.” I smiled as she blushed from my compliment. Lucy looked into my eyes then smiled. “How about some breakfast? I can offer you bacon and eggs—any style.”
“Okay, but only if I can help you in some way.”
“You can set the table and get out the orange juice. I’ll handle the rest. I was one of the cooks when my dad ran the diner. You know what? I’m in the mood for an omelet. It’s just as easy to make two as one.” I smiled and nodded my agreement as we walked together into the kitchen. Max ignored us as he lay quietly on the living room floor.
I had to admit that the breakfast was one of the best I’d ever had. Not only was the food great, but the company was just as good. Lucy asked about the case I had just closed and was especially interested in how we had tracked down the two suspects. We cleaned up together then worked again to make the bed. I was dressed in another uniform tee and cargo pants when she asked what I would do today.
“I don’t really know, but I was thinking I might drive around town a bit.”
“That won’t take too long. Why don’t you come up to the diner? I’ll reserve a booth next to the door and we can talk or watch the TV news and weather. I’ll even buy you lunch.”
“I’ll gladly come, but I insist on paying my way. What will I do with Max? I can’t leave him in the SUV all day.”
“Bring him in with you. Is he okay with kids?”
“Oh, yeah; he loves kids. I sometimes think he’d play Frisbee all day if I’d let him. He loves going to my cousin’s house and playing with her girls.” We talked together for a while then Lucy went into the bedroom to dress in her diner uniform. There was a slight break in the rain when we left and Lucy was right—her home did look better in the daylight.
I paid close attention to the directions she gave me and five minutes later I pulled into the diner’s lot. She pointed me toward the town’s main drag and waved as she entered the doorway. No sooner was she inside than the heavens opened again.
The town was pretty much deserted even though it was a Saturday, a day I assumed most people would be shopping. There were plenty of small shops of all kinds. The city was clean and I could see that an effort had been made to revitalize the area with large concrete boxes planted with colorful flowers and hanging baskets on the lampposts. The buildings were well maintained with gleaming paint even on a day that was gloomy at best.
There were three schools at the end of the broad avenue—elementary, middle, and high. The football field looked like it could hold 5, 000 people easily. This was clearly rural America at its best. I didn’t see even a single homeless person although they could be sheltering in a church or senior center or someplace I didn’t even know existed. All in all I was quite impressed by the city even though it looked more like a big town than an actual city. The entire commercial area wasn’t more than a half mile long by about three blocks on either side of the main road. I turned around, returning to the diner around 1:00. That was the routine I followed for three days, exploring different areas of the small city every day. In the end I had to agree with Lucy—it was a great place to live.
I had moved my rifle and shotgun back into the SUV as I did every morning and I had my marshal’s belt with pistol and baton under my rain parka as Max and I ran into the diner. As promised, there was a booth just to the right of the door with a sign that said “Reserved.” I sat with my back to the door and pointed Max to the opposing seat.
We weren’t there long the first day when a waitress approached to tell me that I couldn’t bring my dog into the building. “Actually, Lucy told me I could. Maybe you should check with her. How about a menu while you’re doing that?” She brought it a minute later and by then two young girls had approached us. That also became a regular part of our day.
“Could we pet your dog, Mister?”
“Sure, just hold your hand out first and let Max sniff you. It’ll be okay. He loves children and he plays with my cousin’s girls all the time.”
The older girl looked to be about ten and she obviously had some experience with strange dogs. Max sniffed her hand and then licked it a few times while she laughed. I had to tell Max to sit down because his tail had hit the people in the next booth several times. I tried to apologize, but they just brushed it off.
I was leaning over the table and as I did my jacket opened briefly. The girl gasped as she saw my revolver. “Is that a real gun, Mister? How come you have a gun?”
I waved her closer and opened the parka so she could read my shirt. “Oh, are you some kind of policeman?”
“Yes, I am honey, except I work for the federal government solving crimes that violate federal laws like kidnapping or drugs. Max is my partner. He’s a police dog when we’re working, but he’s just a big baby the rest of the time.”
They stayed with Max while I ordered a club sandwich on white toast with extra mayo and a Coke. When asked if I wanted fries or chips I opted for the chips. The ones I had that first night were great. Once the waitress had gone I looked aimlessly out the window. I didn’t like what I saw there. Two men got out of their car. They were wearing raincoats, which was to be expected considering the weather. What I didn’t like was seeing them go to the trunk and emerge with their right hands inside the other side of their coats as they looked up and down the street.
“Girls, you have to go back to your parents right now and stay there. You can play with Max again in a few minutes, okay? Go now.” Once they were gone I gave Max the command that would put him on alert. I also moved him to the floor under the table where he was less likely to be seen. I shrugged my arms out of the parka, but kept it over my shoulders.
Max looked up at me as the two walked through the outer door into the vestibule. I tapped him twice on his ear which put him at the ready. He would move at the exact instant I did. My pistol was ready with the leather strap undone and the safety thumbed off. I turned my body so I was sideways to the table just as they entered.
“THIS IS A STICKUP,” the one to the right yelled as he stepped up to the counter right in front of us. He held a rifle in his right hand. His partner had a shotgun and both were pointed up at the ceiling. I made my move immediately and as I did, Max exploded from the booth. After a single step he leaped up wrapping his jaws around the man’s wrist. He screamed in pain and his partner would have come to his aid if only I didn’t have my revolver jammed into his ear. I spoke just as the rifle fell harmlessly to the floor.
“Don’t even think about it. One false move and your brains will be all over the ceiling. Move your finger away from the trigger and lay the weapon on the counter. Slowly, now…slowly. Lucy, get out of the way. I don’t want any accidents.” Once she had moved I grabbed the asshole’s collar and pulled him to the floor. My knee on his neck, I quickly handcuffed him and left him there while I attended to his partner.
Dogs were very successful hunters long before they were domesticated thousands of years ago and they killed their prey by grabbing it by the neck and shaking it violently, breaking the animal’s neck in the process. When Max bit into the perpetrator’s wrist his instincts told him to shake it as his ancestors had done ages ago. The action destroyed the man’s wrist, breaking several bones in his hand as well as his forearm within the first three seconds. Since then his wrist had been completely obliterated. “Off, Max…off,” I said in a calm voice. Max released him and stepped away until I snapped my fingers and pointed to the one I had dealt with. “Hold, Max.” He ran to the other robber and wrapped his jaws around his neck, not biting, but holding him in place.
“Lucy, do you have a towel? Even a dish towel or two would be a help.” She returned a few seconds later with two dish towels. “Please call 9-1-1 and ask for police and EMT’s while I bandage this guy’s wrist.” I wrapped the first towel tightly around the area where the blood flowed freely from his wound. I tore about half of the second towel down its length then applied it over the other. Finally, I tied the two torn sections into a strong knot. Using two of the plastic wrist cuffs I was able to restrain him just above the elbows. He had some limited use of his hands although it was unlikely that he would do much with his right hand ever again.
Pulling the one I was working on up, I forced his legs apart then bent him over the counter while I searched him. He had a 9mm semi-automatic and a knife that I laid on the counter next to his rifle. “Don’t get any stupid ideas. Max will be right behind you in a second.” I left him then, returning to the one I had dealt with. Max rose when I got there and walked behind his partner, growling menacingly as he did.
I could hear sirens in the distance as I searched the remaining robber. He, too, had a 9mm and a knife. Leaving him over the counter I unloaded the shotgun and the pistol as I had his partner’s. I smiled as I spoke to the patrons. “I’ll bet you weren’t expecting all this excitement when you decided to eat out today, did you? I’m Matt Cahill, U.S. Marshal and this is my partner, Max. Right, buddy?” We’d done this several times before so Max woofed his agreement before returning to his guard duties.
I could hear sirens coming from two directions so I released Max. “Go and play with the girls, Max. I have this covered.” German Shepherds are among the most intelligent dogs and Max is the smartest dog I’d ever encountered. He woofed once and capered down the aisle until he had reached his two friends.
They were eager, but their father held them back. “Is this dog really safe?”
“What Max did here today he did on my exact orders, nothing else. Did you notice that he took this man’s neck into his mouth, but didn’t bite? I told him to ‘hold,’ nothing more and that’s exactly what he did. He would have bitten and broken the man’s neck if I or any of you were seriously endangered, with or without my instructions. That’s just how good he is, but none of you are in any danger from him.” Then, looking at the older girl I told her, “Honey, put your arm into Max’s mouth. Go ahead. He won’t bite you. I promise.” She was a bit tentative as she slid out of the booth, but laughed when Max licked her face. Standing with him she pushed her arm between Max’s jaws then grinned wildly when he stood calmly with his mouth wide open.
That encouraged other kids and their parents to join her and soon Max was the center of attention as several dozen people were petting and rubbing him. That was the scene that greeted two sheriff’s deputies who entered the diner with their guns drawn.
My back was to them as they entered and they were justifiably cautious. “Put your hands up and turn around. Don’t do anything sudden or stupid.” Lucy was about to explain until I stopped her. I turned slowly so they could read the front of my shirt. “Got some ID, buddy? Anyone can buy a shirt and have it lettered.” He stepped forward so his pistol was only about three feet away from me.
“I’d like to suggest that you step back a bit. We’ll both be losers if you don’t. You’ll lose the use of your right hand for the rest of your life just like this asshole over here and I’ll lose my best friend. My ID is in my left-hand cargo pocket. Okay if I reach for it?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I pointed then behind them to where Max had come silently. He growled when they turned. “Oh, God—what is that thing…a wolf?”
“No, he’s my partner.” Kneeling, I called Max to me. “It’s okay, Max. Come here, boy.” I held him with my right hand even though he could pull away from me any time he wanted. Reaching with my left hand I opened and showed my official ID to the deputies. They holstered their weapons and stepped back. “Okay, Max; you can go back to the kids now.” He looked at me for reassurance then trotted away.
“What happened here, Marshal?”
“I was seated in the booth behind you with Max while two girls petted him when I saw these two drive into the parking lot. Their actions put me on guard. They went to the trunk and removed something I couldn’t see. They both had their hands inside the raincoats when they reappeared. I sent the girls back to their parents and put Max on alert. He’s a highly trained and experienced police dog. He attacked this one as soon as I stepped out of the booth, first biting his wrist and then shaking it until the guy dropped the rifle. I’d be amazed if he didn’t have half a dozen broken bones.”
We were interrupted then by three city patrolmen and two EMT’s who went straight to the injured man. “Who’s going to take custody of these two? It’s armed robbery, at least and I’ll bet that these firearms aren’t registered. I’m sure your DA can come up with a bunch of charges. I’ll also bet that these two are responsible for the other robberies in the area.”
“We’re in the city so it’s their case, but they always send their prisoners to the county jail.”
“Okay, then I suggest that some of you need to get the names and addresses of all of the witnesses.” The two deputies and two of the city police went to do that while the other started to remove my handcuffs so he could replace them with his own. What he did was all wrong, ass backward, and a potential disaster in the making. “What are you doing,” I asked as he had almost removed one of the cuffs, stepping between him and the robber and ratcheting the cuff tightly on his wrist again.
“Um…I was removing your cuffs and replacing them with mine.”
“Give me your handcuffs,” I instructed him. I placed them onto the perpetrator’s wrists just above mine then I unlocked mine and replaced them into their holder. “Never…ever remove handcuffs before putting yours on a prisoner’s wrists. There are potentially dangerous weapons here—steak knives, even forks—and plenty of potential hostages. These are violent dangerous men.”
The prisoner had a sickening smile on his face when I pulled him up and turned him around. “Too bad you were here. I would have gotten away from this hick cop for sure.”
“I doubt it. Max would have been on you before you went ten feet. Then you’d be as messed up as he is.” His smile disappeared in a flash as he realized what I said was the truth. Once again, Max was standing only a few feet behind me, fangs bared. Turning to the patrolman I told him to Mirandize both of these a-holes so it would be witnessed by dozens of people. I didn’t want either of them to get off on a technicality. Ten minutes later, both prisoners were removed—one to the hospital, the other to the jail.
Max and I were standing in the diner when Lucy walked up to me. “You both deserve a reward. Max is getting a big salmon steak, but I have something else for you.” Then she pulled my head down so she could kiss me. It was long and sweet as she pulled herself into my body. I responded by clutching her tightly, too. Breaking it, she whispered in my ear, “The rest will have to wait until later.”
Lucy and I were in bed my second night with her when she moved over behind me. “How long since you last had sex, Matt?”
“You mean with another person?”
She laughed then jabbed me in the ribs. “Asshole!”
“Well, you asked! It’s been a long time…probably close to a year. The kind of work I do keeps me moving around a lot so I don’t get into very many relationships.”
“It’s been a long time for me, too. I don’t get very many dates, let alone relationships.”
“That doesn’t make much sense to me, Lucy. You’re an attractive woman with a great outgoing and upbeat personality. I’d ask you out. In fact, that’s exactly what I’m doing right now. Want to go out for dinner and maybe a movie. You pick the night. It looks like I’m going to be here for a while.” There was still a lot of flooding in the area and it was still raining.
“I accept. We can go out Thursday if that’s okay with you. However, I find that I have a real bad itch that needs scratching right now. Want to help me with it?”
I rolled over to face her. We were closer physically than we’d ever been and a second or two later we were even closer as I realized that Lucy was naked under the covers. “I don’t know,” I replied, a huge grin on my face. “Exactly what did you have in mind?”
She pulled my hand to her breast as she whispered, “I was hoping you’d give me the fucking I’ve been wanting ever since we first met.” She leaned forward for our first kiss as her hand sought and found my hard-as-granite erection. It was already poking out the slit in my boxers.
The kiss was incredible as Lucy pressed her lips into mine, her tongue pushing insistently through the small gap between my teeth. That gap increased as I pushed back, our tongues wrestling and winding around each other like two snakes in their mating embrace. On and on it went as we clutched each other tightly. One of my hands teased her nipples while the other wrapped itself around one of the globes of her ass, pulling her pussy into close contact with my cock.
Lucy groaned into my mouth as she rubbed the spongy head into her clit. It was only a few seconds later that she pulled me onto her body, her legs spread widely. The kiss continued as she literally pulled me into her cunt. ‘I’m safe, Matt. I’ve been on an implant for years to help with my period. C’mon, give it to me hard. I want it…you…so badly.”
I pushed forward through her tightness, amazed at her wetness. Her pussy was gushing and we’d barely even started. She wrapped her legs around my waist as we began to move together. She rose to meet my every thrust, grinding her clit into my hard firm abdominals.
We moved together—faster and faster, harder and harder—until Lucy’s body seemed to explode, shaking and twisting wildly as she screamed into the night. Still, she moved with me even though we were humping at a frenetic pace that no human beings could long sustain. She began to shake again as I felt the rumbling deep within my core. I could almost feel my balls as they moved up to my body until the eruption drove six powerful bursts of hot slick cum deep into Lucy’s body. “Oh, God—Matt; I’m…I’m cumming again. Oh…Ooohhhh. Aaaaahhhh!” She seemed to collapse into the bed in exhaustion and, strong as I was, I wasn’t much better.
We were mutually destroyed, but what a wonderful experience it had been. I slid off to the side, pulling Lucy up onto my body, her head with her hair hanging now in long sweaty ribbons on my chest and her leaking cunt oozing onto my thigh. I pulled the blanket over us and seconds later we were sound asleep, our bodies intertwined. It was a glorious feeling.
Lucy was awake and looking down at me when I opened my eyes the following morning. I smiled then pulled her down for a searing kiss that lasted for more than a minute. Our faces were covered in spit when she broke it. “Thanks, Matt; you answered my question.”
“I wanted to know if last night was a one-time thing or if it was more.”
“And,” I asked, a twinkle in my eyes.
“It’s definitely going to happen again.”
“And again and again, as long as you want it. I thought it was incredible and I thought you were even better.” She must have agreed because she moved down first to kiss me again and then to slide down my body until she was able to lick the dried secretions from my rapidly engorging cock.
She was between my legs when she took me deep into her mouth. Up and down she went until I thought my cock had turned to stone then she moved back up until her beautiful trimmed cunt was just over me. She closed her eyes and groaned in her ecstasy as she slowly lowered herself down my pole. “I love this, Matt. You’re long enough to go all the way in and you’re so thick that you stretch me out until my entire cunt tingles with lust for more and more. I don’t think I could ever get enough of your cock, Matt. Oh God—you must think I’m a terrible slut.”
“Not at all; I’d never think of you that way. A slut would have fucked me our first night together and you would have had sleazy guys chasing you every day. I know you were telling me the truth about the last time you had sex. Why would you lie? There’s no reason to do that just as I had no reason to lie either. No, you’re definitely not a slut, but I’m really glad you like my little friend.”
Lucy was riding me slowly—taking me deeply into her velvet vault—her head back as she moaned and groaned in total rapture. “First of all, Matt—it’s not little. It’s just the perfect size for me. And I don’t like it, I love it. I love the way it makes me feel. I’ve never experienced anything like this before. It’s not just in my cunt. It’s all through my body. I feel like I want to do it all day and all night—twenty-four hours a day every day.”
“I’m not made of steel, you know.”
“Yeah, and I have to go to work eventually, but now I have something to look forward to, don’t I?” My response was simple. I just pulled her down into an embrace that included yet another long wet kiss. It was mid kiss that we reached that same frenetic pace to our love making that we’d found last night, except this time Lucy was riding me like I was a bucking bronco. Lucy drove her clit into me like she was a woman possessed. She came quickly, the force of her orgasm breaking the kiss as her back arched forcefully. I thrust into her for another minute before my cock erupted.
I’m in outstanding physical condition, but after cumming the way I had I was wiped out. My breathing was deep and rapid as I gasped for breath, but still I clutched my lover to my body. We had both recovered about twenty minutes later as Lucy pulled me from the bed into the shower. She was giggling as she pushed me in. “You’ve got to be kidding. This thing is so small.”
“I know,” she said still giggling then she stepped in behind me, her still hard nipples jutting into my chest. She reached around me for the soap. “I’ll go first if that’s okay with you.” She was still giggling when she first ran the soap over my body. I had to admit that she spent an awfully long time on my cock and balls before reaching around me again to soap up my ass. A few minutes later she handed the soap to me, laughing at the expression on my face. This was a completely new experience for me, but one I hoped I could do again.
Lucy pulled two towels out of the linen closet and I got the next shock of the morning when she began to dry my body. A simple expression on her face told me that I was expected to dry her. “Hell,” I thought, “why not?” We were soon dry and back in the bedroom.
I was almost dressed when I told her, “I think I’d better buy some shirts and slacks and, maybe a decent pair of shoes or sneakers. All I have are uniforms.”
“I kind of like you in a uniform. It suits you.” Then she sealed the deal with another kiss. We walked to the kitchen, detouring briefly to let Max out. Rain was still falling, but not quite as hard as it had the prior two days. I dried him with the towel once he was back then we walked into the kitchen where Lucy greeted me with a mug of hot coffee—black and strong, just the way I liked it.
We had another great breakfast—French toast and sausage patties. I handled the dishes while Lucy changed the bed linens. We hung out a while before I drove her to the diner. She left me with a kiss that lingered for almost a minute then she petted Max and exited the SUV. She waved at the diner’s door and I waved back before backing out of the parking space and driving off the lot. A few minutes later I stopped at a no-name gas station, charging the gas on my personal credit card. I’d charge the gas to the government once I was headed home again.
I drove into town and turned left at the city center, parking on the street at a men’s store I had seen in my explorations. I opened the car door for Max and together we walked into the store. I was sure the owner was going to bitch about a dog in his store, but one look at my U.S. MARSHAL shirt and another at the determination in my face closed his mouth in a hurry. I led Max to a corner of the large room and told him to lie down. Then I opened my belt and let the pistol, baton, and handcuffs fall to the floor. Max put his head down on top of them, exactly as I had taught him. Knowing that my weapons were secure I addressed the store owner.
“I need some clothes—a couple of pair of decent slacks and a few shirts, at least. I’d also like a sports jacket if you think you’ll have something that would fit me. Some matching socks would help and I see that you also sell shoes. What do you have in 14EE?”
He came and carefully measured my chest and waist, keeping an eye on Max the whole time even as Max kept an eye on him. He finished by measuring my inseam. “Hmmm, do you have difficulty buying clothes, Mr. Cahill? You have an extremely muscular body.”
Somehow he knew my name--from the folks at the diner, I assumed. “Not in a big city where there are quality men’s stores,” I replied.
“Well, we may not be a big city, but I can attest to the quality of my goods. Perhaps you’d like a sports jacket, as well. I can tailor it to fit you perfectly. Who knows, you may want to take Miss Lucille to a fancy restaurant like Carter’s or even to the theater.” Damn, but this guy knew an awful lot about me and my business.
“Let’s start with the basics first and then we can talk about the others.” He nodded and walked to a rack of shirts and then to another of slacks, motioning me to a dressing room once he had four of each. I tried on the slacks first, surprised that he had my size—36-35—waist 36 inches and inseam 35 inches. Surprisingly, they fit me well. I selected one pair of tan and another of light grey before trying on several lightweight shirts. They were made of an elastic material that promised to wick perspiration away from the wearer’s body. I liked three of the four so I kept them. Dressed again in my uniform I laid the clothes on the counter.
“Good choices, Marshal; why don’t we try on a few jackets now? You’ll need a size 52 Extra Long because of your muscular chest and back, but I’m sure it will need alterations because of your relatively small waist.” I found a nice one that I liked—mauve with silver plated buttons. It was a trifle snug, but I was promised that it would be altered for free and that it would be done by tomorrow afternoon. I walked out the door almost two hours later with my arms full and my wallet empty. I had spent almost $1,000 on my new wardrobe. I justified the expense by telling myself that I wanted to look good for Lucy.
Max and I walked in to what was now our table at the diner at 1:30 on the dot. Lucy was busy with a customer so Amy who was by now our official waitress brought my menu as soon as Max had made himself comfortable in the booth. ”I don’t know what’s going on with you and Lucille, but I’ve never seen her so happy.”
“I think it must be the rain,” I said jokingly, actually laughing when Amy looked totally confused. I ordered a cheese steak sub and a Coke then I sat back to check out the people in the diner. This was something I always did, but—not surprisingly—I saw nothing even remotely suspicious. I had just finished my inspection when Lucy slid into the booth with me. Max bounced up so she could pet him. He really was just a big baby when not on duty.
“Did you get everything you wanted?”
“Yeah, I went to George’s. Do you know where that is?”
Lucy laughed before answering, “Of course, remember that I’ve lived here all my life. I know George, too—have for years. I’m leaving early this afternoon. The rain is supposed to stop soon. I’d like to show you around while it’s sunny for a change. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, I think that’s a great idea. You can show me where all the kids go to make out.”
She leaned over to whisper in my ear. “I can show you, but I think we’re a bit beyond that, aren’t we? I much prefer a nice comfortable bed over a back seat every time.” My response was to kiss her cheek. Amy brought my lunch then and Lucy excused herself to deal with some customers. I ate the overstuffed sub, wondering if Lucy had told the cook to give me double. It was a great sandwich. I paid with my MasterCard, adding a tip, just as Lucy walked out of the kitchen to join me. We held hands as we walked out to the SUV.
She directed me through the town to a high point overlooking a beautiful pristine lake. I parked and stopped the car as we looked out the front window at the incredible sight before us. Lucy leaned across the console to kiss me. Her eyes were closed, but I swore I could still see all the way into her core. She broke the kiss a few seconds later to tentatively ask me, “Do you like me, Matt? I mean…really like me? I know you like fucking me, but….”
“I’ve never fucked you, Lucy. I have made love with you a few times, but I doubt that I would ever fuck you. Do I like you? No…I’d say it’s a lot more than that. I can’t say that I’m in love with you because we haven’t known each other long enough, but I could fall for you in a heartbeat. I do have one question for you, though. When I went to George’s this morning he knew just about everything about us. Do you have any idea why?”
She smiled and leaned up to kiss my cheek. “When I introduced myself to you I never mentioned my surname.”
“What difference does it make? You are who you are regardless of your name.”
“It would matter in this case, Matt. My name is Lucille Ann Bascomb.”
“You mean like Bascomb in Bascomb’s Creek and Bascomb’s Landing?”
“Yes, it was my great grandfather who first settled here and founded the town. I didn’t mention it because I wanted you to get to know me for who I am, not who I’m related to. I also misled you about the diner. I do own it, but—I’m not sure how to say this.”
“Just tell me the truth.”
“Okay, I’m a graduate of University of Tennessee and I have an MBA from Haslam, the Business School. All of that was so I could take over the family businesses when my dad decides to retire.”
“Businesses…as in more than one?”
“Yes, Matt, I’m sorry if I deceived you, but I couldn’t anticipate what has happened between us. I’m glad you feel the way you do, because I’m falling for you big time. I’m usually so level headed, but all I want to do is hold you and kiss you and make beautiful love with you.”
I was chuckling when I asked, “Is that so bad?” Then I looked into her eyes and I knew. We had a big future ahead of us.
She elbowed me as she answered me. “No, it’s not bad at all, but you learned this morning that everything I do is under a microscope. There is nobody here who doesn’t know me and now they know all about you, too. I’m sure that my father has checked up on you and he must approve because you’re still here.
“And that brings me to the second topic for discussion. Would you live here if you could get a good job?”
“All I know is law enforcement, Lucy. That’s all I ever wanted to do.”
“Good, because we’re going to be looking for a new chief of police in two months and none too soon as far as most of us are concerned. Our current chief has let things go for the past five years. He retired, but forgot to stay home. The City Council has agreed that we need someone from outside to shake things up. Think you might be interested?”
“I might be, but I’d want to think about it a bit. I’d need a decent salary and I’ll have to find a place to live. Say, if you’re so well off why are you living in a trailer?”
“Mobile home, Matt…mobile home--even though there’s not much difference. The truth is that my house is being painted and I can’t stand the fumes. I must be allergic because I always break out in a rash. The interior is done, but this rain has delayed finishing the outside. Okay, I’ve told you everything that matters about me now. I really am sorry for having deceived you. I promise I’ll never do it again.” She looked up at me with those puppy dog eyes that always drove me crazy with lust.
“Promise accepted, but I think we need to go back to the trailer now so we can become better acquainted.”
Lucy gave me a sly smile followed by a sweet kiss accompanied by a lot of tongue before settling back into her seat. Ten minutes later I was holding the door to the trailer…er, mobile home for Lucy and Max. Max lay down in front of the couch while Lucy took my hand and led me to the bedroom. I wholeheartedly agreed with her idea of getting better acquainted.
She turned down the bed then came to me with a devilish expression on her face. “Want to try my ass, sailor? I’ve never wanted it, but I’ll make an exception for you. What do you say? Hmmm?”
“Maybe some other time; I wouldn’t want to hurt you and I’m pretty sure I would. Besides—didn’t you tell me that my cock was just the perfect size for your pussy?”
“I did and it is,” she whispered as she tiptoed up for another kiss while her hands began to remove my shirt. I dropped my heavy belt to the floor as Lucy began to lower my cargo pants. We were frantic for each other, so frantic that we actually took more time tripping over my pants and Lucy’s diner uniform. Eventually, she managed to push me back onto the bed and by then we were laughing crazily. The laughing continued until we looked into each other’s eyes and then as if by tacit agreement it stopped. I pulled Lucy’s slender body into mine, her breasts pressing into my muscular chest as her soft plump lips devoured mine. I was concentrating on holding Lucy so I was a bit surprised when she gripped my cock and led it to her gushing pussy.
She broke the kiss a few seconds later to whisper, “It was taking you too long. I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“Yeah; like I’d ever object to making love with you. It’s probably the best thing I’ve ever done.”
“As much as I love hearing that I have to disagree. Bringing criminals to justice is the best thing you’ve ever done. I heard on CNN about what you did in St. Louis, arresting those two rapists all by yourself and with no shots fired and no innocent bystanders injured. I do have to say though that this is really special. Oh, Matt! Oh, dear God that is so good. Do me, Matt. Harder! Harder!”
Lucy wanted it harder and I aimed to please. I drove into her with increasing speed and force, lifting her several feet into the air with every thrust. My hands on her butt could feel the tremors emanating from her cunt. They built slowly but surely to what became a massive orgasm—undoubtedly the biggest I’d ever witnessed. I felt great knowing that I was able to give Lucy this wonderful experience.
When she came it was sudden and powerful. I held onto her for dear life as convulsion after convulsion ripped through her body. Somewhere in the middle of it she bathed my abdomen in what seemed to be a gallon of her ejaculate. It was the very first time I had ever made a woman squirt, although it was more a flood than a squirt. She was just coming down when I blew with such force and such volume that every thrust forced semen from her vault.
I was breathing hard when I looked up at Lucy and I was shocked at what I saw. Lucy had passed out, bringing a level of truth to what the French call “la petite mort” or “the little death.” I remained there with Lucy lightly snoring on my chest for more than fifteen minutes until she began to stir. It was during that time that I realized how perfect Lucy felt on me.
She seemed confused as she slowly regained control of her senses. “What happened, Matt?”
“Well, to start with you had the most incredible orgasm.”
She giggled as she said, “I think I remember that part.”
“Yeah, well—do you recall squirting all over me? Although I have to say—it was more of a flood than a squirt. We’re going to have to change the entire bed before we go out. Then you passed out. I was holding onto you so tightly I half expect you to have bruises on your butt and back. That’s how wildly you were thrashing about.”
“It must have been pretty good because I feel just wonderful right now—probably better than I’ve ever felt in my entire life. Can you understand that?”
“I can because I’m feeling exactly the same way." I kissed her then and pushed her up so we could shower together, change the bed, and throw the linens into the washing machine. It was after six when I led Lucy out for dinner.
Thursday was the day we had set aside for our date. After getting Lucy settled in the Explorer and Max in the rear seat, I opened the rear hatch and leaned in toward the long box on the right-hand side. Including the lock, it was made of stainless steel primarily because stainless is an extremely hard metal that is difficult to dent with a hammer and impossible to cut with a hacksaw. The box was bolted to the vehicle’s frame with the nuts inside the box’s body. I placed my .44 Magnum into the precut foam seat and removed my CZ 75 9mm pistol. A minute later it was nestled in my shoulder holster and my jacket was back on my body.
I had made reservations for Carter’s and Lucy obviously approved although she did giggle when she told me that it was one of the family businesses. “What don’t you own,” I asked.
“Well, we own most of the buildings downtown and we own three gas stations in addition to the mining quarries. Mostly we mine sand and ball clay. That’s the stuff that’s used to make dinnerware and floor and wall tiles. We have more than five hundred employees working the mines. It’s interesting work and nothing like old-time mining. It takes place in huge pits. The trucks and power shovels are huge. There are crews that blast thousands of tons at a time.” I had an even harder time understanding why Lucy was still single so I asked her about it.
“Lucy, you’re a real catch. Why aren’t you married by now?”
“That’s a good question, Matt. I’ve been very suspicious of every suitor while I was in college and since then and my dad is even worse, but you’re the exception. I started to fall for you before you knew anything about me. You’re here by chance. You slept with me that first night and I never worried that you’d take advantage. Then when we made love the first time…. Well, all I can tell you is that sex with other men was never even close to what we shared. That was when I first felt that we share something special.” She reached across the table to take my hand. The she whispered, “My father will know everything that happened at dinner before we even reach your car.”
“Okay, so what? You’re an adult and so am I.” Lucy leaned forward to kiss me then. It was just a peck, but it told me a lot. I was sure that dear old dad was receiving a text before we even broke it. So what?
Dinner was as great as George had told me it would be. We each had the prime rib, although I did have the larger offering with baked potato while Lucy had fries. George and I had hit it off pretty well yesterday when I bought my clothes so I sounded him out on a number of things—the police force being my first issue. What he told me was revealing. He even invited several of his friends in to join us. They shared his opinions. Basically, they told me that the force was a joke. Almost half of the officers were hired as payback for political debts by the members of the City Council.
“Haynes is the worst. His son is on the force and he must be forty…fifty pounds overweight. If he ever had to run after a criminal he’d probably die of a heart attack.”
Later I stopped at a coffee shop with Paul, one of George’s pals, at their suggestion. There I heard the same arguments and the same sentiments. They were reinforced when two city police officers walked in to take seats at the counter. “That’s Jeremy Haynes,” my companion whispered. “Watch what he does. He’s a real slob, but he makes up for it by being arrogant and obnoxious.”
I nursed my coffee while I watched Haynes and his partner spend almost forty-five minutes of the city’s time eating and drinking coffee. Their radios indicated four calls that they ignored. Haynes had four doughnuts; his partner only had three. “Now, watch this,” my new friend whispered conspiratorially. I was still and silent as the two cops walked straight out the door without paying and without a word of thanks to the shop’s owner. I had to agree—Haynes was a real piece of work. He’d be first in my sights if I became chief.
When I shared those opinions with Lucy she surprisingly agreed. “That’s why most of us want a change. We want a strong independent police chief who will turn the force into something we can be proud of, not a running joke and a bad one, at that.” I spent the next morning at the library, preparing for my interview. I was going to review my plans with Lucy, but fate in the form of two armed robbers intervened. Virtually all of my afternoon was spent resolving the case and taking statements from the witnesses. As a result, Lucy and I grabbed a quick meal at a barbeque joint where we could sit outside and I could feed Max while Lucy and I ate.
I was in uniform and armed when I walked into the Council Room at 7:00 on Friday evening with Lucy and Max. She directed me to a chair at the foot of the table. I was quite pleased when Max followed Lucy to her seat just to the left of the chairman, Carl Haynes. I also learned then that Ms. Lucille Bascomb was the Vice-Chairperson. I looked around at the nine members of the council and was surprised to see that I had met several at George’s that morning. They smiled as Mr. Haynes introduced them.
I began the interview with a synopsis of my life—how I was orphaned at three, living in eastern North Carolina with my aunt and uncle, everything about my high school career leading to my experiences in the Navy. Finally, I described my career as a U. S. Marshal.
“Tell us about your dog.” It was one of the men I’d met at George’s this morning who had asked.
“I was involved in dog training in the Navy and I was given the opportunity with Max about five years ago when he was three months old. I spent an entire year with him and now he’s the best police dog I’ve ever met. Not only does he obey my commands perfectly, but he is capable of acting on his own if warranted.”
“I understand that he was a major factor in the arrests you made this afternoon.”
“That’s right. Without him I would never have been able to take those robbers down. I wouldn’t have even tried because there would have been an overwhelming probability that one or more of the bystanders in the diner would have been shot and possibly killed. I probably would have been one of them. The only alternative would have been to kill them before they had a chance to react.”
“How did Max know when to act?”
“Training, more than anything else; I gave him a signal that I won’t share with you now so he knew to go when I did. I saw that their weapons were pointed to the ceiling and the one I was going for was looking away from me.”
“What about the other one?”
“That never mattered. Max was on him in less than a second. He was off as soon as my foot hit the floor and his fangs were wrapped around the man’s wrist before the other robber could react. I was glad that mine followed directions. I never like to shoot anyone, even scum like them.”
“Would you actually have shot him?”
“Without a doubt--and especially if I thought that one of the customers or diner staff was in danger. That’s always my rationale when I use my weapon.”
“May I see your pistol?”
“NO! I’m sorry, but I never give my weapon to anyone, even in a setting like this.”
“I’d like to hear some of your thoughts on your becoming chief of police here. We have an outstanding force now. What would you do to improve it,” asked Chairman Haynes.
“I wish that the citizens of this city shared that opinion, Sir. I’ve spoken with roughly fifty citizens here and the overwhelming majority thinks the police force here is a joke. In fact, they call it the ‘Keystone Kops,’ that’s how poorly they think of the police force now. That will definitely change when I’m chief. I’ve put together some standards that are in use with the Marshal’s Service. They have been adopted by many local and state police.” I passed the sheet out to the council members. “Every member of the force, including me, will have to run a six-minute mile every six months. They will also have to lift and carry a 150-pound dummy fifty yards in thirty seconds or less and they’ll have to qualify at the range, striking the target at least 85 percent at fifty yards. Failure to achieve these targets will result in a sixty-day probationary period the first time, a ninety-day suspension the second time, and dismissal from the force the third time.
“As chief I will have full discretion to hire and fire.”
“We do that now. The law requires it.”
“Yes, Mr. Haynes, you’re absolutely right, but you are politicians so you make political decisions. Politics and police is a recipe for disaster. People get onto the force for all the wrong reasons. Every candidate should have to pass a competitive exam. That ensures that you get to pick the very best candidates, not the son or daughter of a friend or relative. Every candidate must have a psychological exam so you don’t wind up with a psycho on the force—someone who will go crazy under stress—and every candidate will have to pass their way through the Memphis Police Academy. That’s something you’ll have to pay for. I know the Chief there very well and he has agreed to take on our candidates if you pay their tuition.
“You currently have one lieutenant. That’s not enough. You need at least one on each shift. Your one lieutenant works days. Most crimes occur at night and your officers have no supervision and when they get into a problem they have no leadership to help them. God forbid they get a hostage situation or a serious crime like a rape or murder.
“And here’s another problem—I spent a few hours yesterday morning in a coffee shop here in the downtown area talking to people about your police force. While I was there your son and his partner came in. He ate four doughnuts and drank two cups of coffee. His partner ate three then he, and your son, walked out without paying. That will end the first day I’m chief. It’s a terrible practice that generates mistrust and negative relationships between the community and the police.
“And, while I’m on the subject, tell your son to go on a diet and start running. He’s at least forty pounds overweight and he was huffing and puffing when he struggled to get out of the patrol car. He’ll never pass the new standards unless he makes some major changes.”
We spent the next thirty minutes talking salary and benefits. They would match my current salary of $84,697 and provide for veterinary care for Max as well as the use of a house they had recently foreclosed on for back taxes. I told the council that I hoped I wouldn’t need it very long. Before the meeting ended the vote to appoint me had been conducted with the vote going eight in favor and only one opposed. That one was, not surprisingly, Carl Haynes. I was congratulated by the group’s majority before Lucy and I walked out with Max at our heels. I would be formally appointed at a public meeting the following Tuesday evening and I would receive a formal contract with everything I had demanded included. The right to hire and fire was critical and I would never have accepted without it.
We were in the SUV when Lucy asked, “What was that bit about hoping to need the house only a short time?”
“Well, I’ve realized that I made a big mistake earlier this week—a huge one, in fact.”
“Oh, when was that?” She had the beginnings of a big smile on her face.
“It was when we were talking about our feelings for each other. I told you it was too early to tell you that I loved you. That was the mistake. It’s not too early, after all. I love you, Lucy. I’m in love with you and I don’t give a damn about your money. I’ll make a decent salary and I have about three million from my lawsuit from my parents’ death.”
“Actually, I haven’t yet, but I am now. Lucy Ann Bascomb, will you marry me?”
“It is quick, but I’ve never been more certain that it’s the right thing for both of us. I will, Matt, but first you’re going to have to ask my father. I know it’s an old fashioned custom, but it’s something that must be done in my family.”
“What happens if he says no?”
“I don’t think he will. He’s been trying to get rid of me for years.”
“I’ll never believe that. Just tell me that you’ll still be mine.”
“I’ll always be yours, Matt…always. Now, let’s go home to seal the deal.” I started the engine as Lucy leaned across the console to kiss me. I wished then that I had a bench seat so I could hold her as close as possible to me. Unfortunately, that had to wait until we were back at the trailer.
Max scampered up the steps then turned to wait for us. Lucy opened the door and we quickly stepped inside. I dropped my gun bags to the floor as Lucy locked the door. Then she came to me, giving herself to me wholly and completely. I picked her up and carried her to bed. We were kissing passionately the entire time.
I tried to lay Lucy onto the bed, but she was having none of it. She stood next to me, her slender lithe body pressed into mine as I deftly removed her clothing. Removing mine was a bit trickier because of my pistol. Lucy knew by now that I never allow anyone to handle my weapons. It’s not that I’m picky or temperamental; it’s just a matter of safety. Handling any kind of gun is potentially dangerous. Every year there are dozens of injuries or deaths from people handling what they thought was an unloaded gun and then there are the accidents hunters have when they climb over a fence or trip on a log. There’s never a reason not to exercise the best safety practices when handling firearms.
I laid my belt and holster on the floor then Lucy almost tore my uniform from my body. We fell together onto the bed. My hands roamed her soft sensuous body, concentrating on her small, but sensitive, breasts and her muscular ass cheeks. There was no need to massage her pussy. She was grinding into my thigh and she was incredibly wet in her desire.
We must have rolled back and forth in our passion for each other for fifteen minutes or more before Lucy pushed me onto my back. Of course, I went willingly, knowing what she had in mind. She broke our kiss. Then, staring straight into my eyes, she straddled my hips and held my achingly hard cock to her slit. She rubbed it into her folds twice before slowly engulfing me into her heat…her wetness, her velvet vise.
Lucy rocked slowly as she savored the ecstasy in her cunt. Seconds later I took her hard nipples into my fingers, gently squeezing and rolling them as I massaged her breasts with my huge powerful hands. I thought for a second how ironic it was that hands I used to destroy criminals could also be used to express my love for this wonderful woman.
Very slowly we progressed to our mutual conclusion. We were eager—not for our own pleasure, but to share the rapture that only making love can create. I couldn’t speak for Lucy, but it was the most exhilarating experience of my life and when we both came at the exact same instant I knew it was as spectacular for her as it had been for me. Rather than just collapsing on my chest, she gripped my short hair in her fingers and laid her lips to mine. “I hope you’re in the mood, because I’m going to want that again as soon as you’re ready.” I groaned in mock annoyance, but couldn’t stifle a big grin.
Lucy next spoke when she broke the kiss several minutes later. Our faces were covered in spit when she asked, “Do you like kids, Matt?”
“I love them and I’d like to have a really big family—like ten or twelve.” I laughed crazily at the expression on her face. I kissed her first then suggested that three or four would be great. After a sigh of relief she told me that would be great and that the only thing greater would be to start as soon as we were married. I agreed immediately, just before Lucy took my secretion-encrusted cock into her mouth. Not surprisingly, I was ready for round two.
We spent most of the weekend in bed, but we did get up to shower around eleven Sunday morning. That’s when I learned that Momma and Daddy held a big barbeque every Sunday afternoon for their family and closest friends. If you live in the north you probably don’t know the difference between grilling and barbeque. Grilling is cooking anything other than pork shoulder. Spending a dozen hours to slowly grill a pork shoulder results in what we in the South call barbecue. Different areas have different kinds of sauce ranging from sweet and mild to smoking hot and extremely spicy. Personally, I preferred a tomato-based sauce even though that’s a sacrilege in North Carolina where they love vinegar-based sauce.