| Chicago,
1951
"You like this music?" the girl asked.
"It's okay," John said.
"Keeps the neighbors from complainin'," she
explained. She was pretty--a lot prettier than most
whores--and had a firm ass from walking the streets
every night. He like her hair too, coiled up and cared
for--half-respectable.
"Take off your clothes," he said.
She turned around and leaned against the dresser where
the phonograph was. "Now, now, John," she
chided. "We haven't talked about you-know-what."
"Look, lady--" He sat on the bed.
"Call me Lois." She didn't say it was her
name. She began unbuttoning her blouse, gazing up at
him coyly. She had sweet lips--full, red lips that she
let her pink tongue peek through sometimes.
"Well, Lois, you take off your blouse and let
me see them ta-tas, and I'll think of what I want."
"Lois" smiled. She seemed to enjoy this more
than other hookers. She let her blouse fall open and
uncover her white brassiere, pushing up a big pair of
beasts. "You like?"
John smiled. His dick was starting to stir now. He
stood up again. "Yeah. That's nice. Let's see 'em."
Lois let the blouse slip off her shoulders and tossed
in on the chair next to the dresser. "That's all
the further I go for now." She started to move
toward the window.
"Stay away from the window," John said.
"What?" The girl froze.
"Don't go near the window. Somebody might be lookin'."
John took off his jacket and started unbuttoning his
shirt.
The hooker seemed confused. "Yeah, but-- I gotta
draw the shade. You don't want anybody to--"
John shrugged and tossed his shirt aside. He had a
manly chest--probably did some lifting. "So go
ahead."
Now she see seemed more confused. "Well-- How
much-- I mean-- What about the-- you know....?"
John suddenly got a hold on his balls. "What are
you talkin' about? Come over here," he said suspiciously.
"Lois" tried to stay calm as she went to him.
"You're not a lady cop, are you?" he asked
in a low and very serious tone.
The hooker tried to back off. "What? No,"
she said.
"Take off your clothes," he challenged.
Officer Carla Salvano knew that this was a key moment.
If she could get his trust back, the John would offer
her the money, and she could arrest him for soliciting
prostitution. But if she couldn't, he'd get wise and
scram--or worse, take a poke at her before her backup
could get there. And they'd never know to come at all
if she didn't lower that window shade.
It was okay. She liked the danger. It was why she had
become a cop.
"Lois" took a step back and reach around
behind her to unclasp her bra. She let it slip off sensually,
keeping her eyes on John. He was all eyes, taking it
all in, getting a good look. Carla had great tits, big
and pointed, with long nipples and large areolas. And
she didn't mind showing them off--to the right guy.
But she'd never shown them to a John before. She'd never
had to. They always talked money as soon as she dropped
her blouse.
"Jesus, those are nice titties," John said.
"Not so fast--" Lois reminded him.
John got serious again. "Why don't you just ask
me?" he asked. "'Cause that's entrapment,
you know--if you was a cop."
"How do I know you aren't a cop?" Lois challenged.
"The second I ask you for you-know-what, you slap
the cuffs on me." She even held her wrists out
like he could cuff her. Her tits stuck out over them
like melons. They made his dick hard for sure.
"You take it all off first," he said, adjusting
his dick in his pants.
The girl smiled and started to take off her skirt.
She kicked off her shoes at the same time and stood
before him in drawers and stockings. Her heart was pounding
and her body was starting to respond in ways she didn't
want to admit to. She could feel a dampness in her panties;
maybe she liked danger more than she realized. She had
to get to the window and lower the shade. But she needed
the John to offer her the money first. "Take off
your pants," she said boldly. "I wanna see
what I'll be gettin'."
John had already kicked off his shoes. He dropped his
pants and sat on the bed in his shorts and socks. His
prick was a thick bulge in his shorts. "You've
got a nice body, Johnny boy," Lois said with a
smile, coming to him. "I think I'm gonna enjoy
this. But business comes first."
He took her by the hand and pulled her close--closer
than she wanted. Her big tits pressed against his bare
chest. His cock was thick and hard against her belly.
His breath warmed her ear. "I got ten bucks for
a screw and another ten if you suck it later. You suck
dicks?" he asked hopefully.
That was all she needed. "You bet I do,"
Lois smiled, and tried to pull away. But John held onto
her, one hand on her wrist and one hand gently kneading
her nice, round ass.
"Forget the window," he said. "Take
off your panties." He pulled his dick through the
fly of his shorts. It was nice, dark, fleshy rod--big,
but not too big. Carla's body double-crossed her; her
pussy swelled and her mouth began to water. She'd hardly
ever been this far with a nice guy before, let alone
a John on the job; she couldn't believe she was getting
hot and bothered over this lowlife--this strong, good-looking,
knows-what-he-wants lowlife.
John pulled her on top of him on the bed and began
groping her nearly-naked body. She tried to get a hold
of herself and got up on her hands and knees over him
to reach for the nightstand by the bed. That put her
tits right over his face. "Let's get a little safety
precaution," she said. She reached into the drawer
just as John pulled down her panties.
"I don't like rubbers," he said, and began
sucking on her dangling tit as he squeezed the globes
of her ass in both hands. Carla's heart was pounding
like she couldn't believe as she pushed the rubbers
aside and got a grip on her service revolver and badge.
"This is the kind of protection I'm talkin' about,
asshole," she growled. And she pointed the .38
at his temple.
"Oh shit," he gasped in mid-suck. "Oh
fuck! You fucking bitch!" Carla rolled off of him
onto the floor and held the gun on him as she pulled
up her panties. She hoped he couldn't tell that her
dark bush was moist.
She held her badge out like a crucifix to a vampire.
"You are under arrest for soliciting a prostitute,"
she said. Her breath was heavy. Her heart was still
pounding, her tits heaving.
"You fucking cop! You're a fucking cop!"
"Don't move," Carla said, going to the window.
"You are under arrest." But she never got
there. Like lightning, the John clipped her from behind,
leaping off the end of the bed and throwing her against
the wall. A little picture frame fell onto the dresser
and knocked the needle off the record with a screech.
They fell on the floor, the John on top, huffing and
puffing. The gun was under the chair.
"Fuckin' cop, eh?" he said.
"Yeah," Carla said. "And you goin' to
jail for a long time for assaulting a police officer.
Assault and battery, resisting arrest...."
"Shutup!" John barked. "I can't believe
they're hirin' girls now to do their fucking dirty work."
He pinned her firmly under him. He tits lolled to the
side, still sticky and glistening with his saliva. "The
window, eh? Is that your signal?"
"Go to hell," she said without confidence.
"That's your little game, right? You lower the
shade and the real cops come runnin' in? But only after
you get me to offer you money, right?"
"Ten points for you, John. You move to the sucker
round."
"How many other guys you do this do? Huh? How
many?" He banged her arms against the floor.
"A bunch. I don't know. Ten maybe. Twelve."
It was twenty-seven. She'd been given a letter of appreciation
from the chief of police. She was the first woman officer
to do field duty in the Vice Squad.
John reached under the chair for the gun. Carla struggled
again, but it was no use. He pulled her up, gun to her
head and forced her on the bed. "Now take off those
panties again," he said lasciviously.
He stroked his cock into full erection again as Carla
slowly peeled her drawers down over her ass and thighs.
They slid down her smooth legs to puddle around her
feet. "You are not going to get away with this,"
she warned him.
"Shutup," he said, groping for her badge.
"Carla Salvano. Officer Carla Salvano. Shit. A
fuckin' wop to boot." He tossed his on dresser
by the phonograph and came towards her.
"Don't," she began to whimper. "Please
don't. I don't wanna-- Oh, shit, please." She backed
away, frightened and vulnerable, naked except for her
thigh-high stockings.
John pushed her onto the bed. "I'm gonna get what
I want now," he said ominously. "And it ain't
gonna cost me a dime." He pushed his shorts down
over his hips, exposing a rock-hard dick jutting out
like a spear. He held the gun casually, but ready. Carla's
heart pounded furiously.
"You never fuck those guys you arrest, do you?
You're like a fuckin' tease." He crawled on top
of her, pressing her legs apart with his knees. His
eyes roamed her naked body. "You're not a whore
at all."
"No," she said timidly, playing for mercy.
"Well, you're gonna be a whore for me," he
said, grabbing her face roughly. "You're gonna
take everything I got, and you're gonna like it."
She whimpered softly and gasped as he squeezed her tit.
His cock was pressing against her vagina, sliding up
and down against it as he moved his hips, preparing
for penetration. "Please don't do this," she
begged. "Please."
But that only made it all the sweeter when he pressed
the head of his cock into her vulva and slid it slowly
inside her. Her pussy was still moist from her earlier,
barely-controlled desire. John forced his manhood deep
while Carla whimpered, legs spread too far apart, shoulder
hurting from the struggle.
John grunted and gasped as he fucked her. His dick
slid in and out, filling her up like few men had before.
"Please stop," she begged. But her body was
betraying her again. With her own gun pointed at her
head, Carla found the danger sending a thrill through
her straight to her pussy. It was suddenly hot and eager,
wet with her lust. Maybe she could fool him into thinking
she liked it. "Fuck, oh, fuck, please," she
moaned.
John pumped her harder, fucking her with everything
he had. This cop's twat was taking it all and liking
it! He slammed his dick inside, pulled back hard, and
slammed it in again. "Oh FUCK!" she groaned.
"Oh!"
"Oh, yeah. Yeah," John huffed. "Take
it, bitch. You take it all." His hips thrust again
and again. Carla's hips responded uncontrollably, rocking
back and forth in counter rhythm, forcing his dick inside
her even further and hard with each stroke.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Carla groaned like she
was loving it. "Oh, please. Oh! OH!" She told
herself she was only humoring him, but her body was
in charge now, every muscle tense and eager, her hands
on his naked ass, pulling him into her, her pussy wet
and messy with eagerness.
John pushed again and again, watching her gorgeous
tits rocking back and forth as he banged her, watching
her face as she lost control. Her closed eyes flashed
open suddenly. "Fuck me like a man!" she begged.
"Oh please rape me! Rape my pussy!"
John's balls welled up and shot a blast of hot semen
through his dick and into Carla's warm twat. She felt
the heavy load spurting into her, and it made her lose
the last bit of self-control she had. Her hips thrust
upward, her tits heaved, her face twisted into an orgasmic
mask of pain and pleasure. Ecstasy coursed through her,
made her whole body tremble, made her squeeze his legs
with her thighs, made her cunt seize with spasms, milking
his balls of every drop of come. The pleasure was exquisite;
the shame immediate.
John caught his breath after a few seconds and shifted
above her. His dick was still inside her, still thick
and stiff. "Now--" he gasped, "Now you're
gonna suck it."
"Yeah," she said. But the second he turned
away to roll off her, Carla busted him in the eye with
a hard right hook that almost took him out. She snatched
the gun out of his hand and rolled off the bed to her
feet. John rushed her, but she made the window first,
snapping the shade off its mount and making it crash
to the floor. He shoved her into the wall, but Carla
gave him a kick and jammed the revolver into his face.
"Don't move, you son of a bitch, or I'll plug
you, so help me."
The John covered his dick and looked all around like
a caged animal. When Carla glanced out the window, he
jumped at her, hands straight out like claws. Carla
pulled the trigger and saw him stagger, pain flashing
across his face. She fired again, putting two neat holes
in his chest like a paper target.
The John fell, crawled a foot, just touching her, and
groaned like death. His blood oozed out onto the rug.
Carla stood over the body for a moment before realizing
she should cover herself. She stepped over the John
and looked around for her panties, but they were nowhere
to be found.
Just that moment, heavy footsteps sounded in the hall.
The door to the apartment burst open, parts of the door
frame splintering off like shrapnel. Two Vice cops stood
in the doorway, guns drawn, badges flashing in the dim
lamplight.
Officer Carla stood frozen, looked at them dumbly,
brushed the hair off her forehead.
"Jesus H.," Cordevan muttered. Other people
from the building appeared behind them, straining for
a look inside, muttering about her state of undress,
her smoking revolver--they couldn't see the corpse.
She wiped at the moisture on her breasts and found
it was the John's blood--spattered on her from four
feet away. She wiped at her thigh likewise and found
that it wasn't blood; it was his semen, warm and dripping
from her pussy.
"Get those people out of here," Cordevan
barked. He took off his wet raincoat and put it around
Carla. Tears began to stream from her blood-shot eyes.
"We wondered what was takin' so long," remarked
Black, looking at the John's crumpled body. "Two
in the chest," he said. "You paid the bastard
back good." The two men helped her sit down and
wipe away her tears; nobody suggested calling for an
ambulance.
They were good men, but they would tell this story
downtown to the other fellows. Being unmarried and friendly
to the boys, Carla already had a bit of a reputation
among the other cops. None of them would never look
at her the same way again.
The End
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