fuck me dog-fashioned, and the rest of us will form a daisy chain. Do you want to do that?”

“I'm too pooped to pop right now,” Ruby whimpered. “That boy is fucking me to death.” Tim grimaced and leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes. But Mara knew he was thinking of fucking her, and his cock was half rampant, and he was slowly playing himself into a full hard-on. “We'll rest a half-hour and then go at it again,”

Bill said. Jerry, the garage owner, met his friend Martin Orwell, the State Trooper, at the corner of Main Street and Third, about four blocks from the motel where Bill had taken the woman and her son. He had watched the cottage where the four had gone and no one had emerged. The police vehicle drifted to the curb and paused.

Jerry opened the door and slid into the front seat beside his friend.

“Hi, Marty.” “Hey, Jerry. You got something cooking over here?” “Don't know for sure, Marty. Pull her around the corner from Ben Turkin's cottages there. See that middle cabin. Well, that fellow and his woman, I told you about, went in there with the Fletcher woman and her kid. Mrs. Fletcher lives on the island out there. Owns it, inherited it from her man when he was killed in some war someplace in Africa, so I heard.” Marty grunted and peered at the cabin. “Seems peaceful enough. What makes you think there's something wrong?” Jerry scratched his chin and rubbed his cock and pursed his mouth. “Well, I got a look square at Mara-that's Mrs.

Fletcher-when they walked past my place. And she looked all scared.

Tim, he was walking like a zombie. So I figured you might want to check it out, them other two being strangers and all.” Marty had noticed the back end of a station wagon sticking out of the narrow drive beside the cabin. Slipping a small pair of binoculars out of a case on the dash, he peered at the license plate. Taking his mike from the two-way radio in his sedan, he murmured the number and asked for an instant check and hung the mike up. He sat and watched the cabin and said little, until the radio beeped. He answered. “Yeah… ahuh. It is, huh? Okay. Thanks, doll, I owe you a cuppa coffee.” He signed off the air then and turning, grinned at Jerry. “Well, old buddy, you hit a hot one that time. The car is stolen and the man apparently driving it is an escaped convict from Illinois. William Trooper. The woman is just someone he must have picked up along the way.” The trooper eyed the building thoughtfully, then nodded to Jerry. “Now, you can come along, or stay here, whichever you wish.”

“What are you going to do?” “I'm going to slip around to the side and then back, wherever there's another door, and there surely is one. I'll bust in the door and take them prisoner. The man may put up a fight, so maybe you'd better stay here.” Marty called in that he was off the air for a few minutes and that he was investigating the possibility of a criminal in a motel cabin in the town. He would call back later. “Over and out.” He crawled from the car and, taking his riot gun, unbuttoned his holster containing the magnum. 357 and started around the building, skirting the motel area, so he could come up behind the building. “I'll go with you.” Jerry hurried after him. “Just stay out of the way, if the thing goes to a fight,”

Marty cautioned. Jerry followed carefully at his heels, his face a little pale as he thought of what he might be letting himself in for.

There was a small window, and a door on the back of the cottage.

“We are in luck,” breathed Marty. He eased up to the window and slowly rose to peer inside. His eyes widened and he motioned for Jerry to come up. “Take a peek,” he breathed. Jerry slowly peered into the room. His eyes widened and he slid down beside Marty. “I never saw anything like that,” he whispered. “Neither did I,” Marty whispered back. He slipped to the door and tried the knob. It was locked. He backed off. “You stay back,” he whispered and then, crouching, he hurled himself against the flimsy wood, and the door crashed inward, his body propelled into the room. The daisy chain was just started. Mara was on her hands and knees, her full tits swinging, the nipples erect and trembling with excitement.

She spread her thighs fully and Tim was behind her, and guided his cock deeply into her cunt from that position. His huge balls swung forward and slapped her in the ass as he began hunching, holding her at the hipbones and pulling her asscheeks back against him. Bill was spread out upon the floor, his large cock rampant and halfway in Mara's mouth. She grunted and fucked backwards into Tim's belly, at the same time lowering her mouth upon Bill's cock, sucking and lapping as she did so. He grunted and hunched into her mouth and she siphoned hard upon it, wrapping her tongue about the head of his cock, making the sides of her cheeks hollow, she sucked so hard. To complete the chain, Ruby knelt on her knees, her back to Mara, positioning her dewy cunt right over Bill's mouth. His large tongue, experienced at what it was called upon to do, was lapping her clit, making her groan and murmur in her joy, and she fucked his tongue gently, making tiny motions with her full hips. One of her hands was upon his head for balance, and to hold his mouth to her cunt, and the other one played with her own tits, making the excitement complete. Lust sang in the room. The only sounds were the liquid sounds of sucking, licking, and the moaning of pleasure. There was a motion of bodies, Tim's hunching, Mara's head bobbing up and down the thick shaft of the prick that filled her mouth, Bill fucking into her mouth, and Ruby giving Bill's tongue a tiny fuck motion as he lapped at her clit and her cunt. “Uuummm, good,” Bill moaned as Mara took all of his cock in her mouth and throat. “I envy… her… that gorgeous cock… she's getting rammed… into her juicy… cunt…” panted Ruby.

Mara did not answer, her mouth was too full of Bill's cock. Tim did not even listen to what was being said. He was too enthralled watching the huge shaft of his cock move slowly in and out of the wet passage there between the white thighs of his mother. Tim breathed deeply, almost a gasp, as he thrust deeply into his mother's twitching cunt, the heat and the moisture smearing his cock from balls to knob. He was nearing the point of no return and wanted it to last longer; but it was becoming a losing battle. Just as he decided to give it his best shove and let it spurt, there was a great crash at the back door. The door crashed open and a man hurtled through.

Tim caught a glimpse of a uniform, a broad-brimmed hat and a huge black pistol in the man's hand, and then he cried out as he began to come. He jerked himself from the hot, grasping cunt, his cum spurting creamy and gleaming three feet in the air. It spurted again and then he threw himself on the couch out of the way of the man, as the intruder shot to his feet and leveled the gun. “Everyone freeze,” he shouted. “This is the law!”

CHAPTER TEN

Trooper Martin, Jerry and Tim, with Mara bustling in and out of her kitchen with coffee, iced tea and a lace of brandy for the coffee, all were rehashing the arrests that had followed Martin's dramatic break-in at the cottage in town. “Boy, when you dived through that door, I thought the world had come to an end,” remarked Tim, his eyes admiringly upon Martin's uniform. “You were doing all right for yourself,” Martin dryly remarked, remembering the arching spray of Tim's tremendous ejaculation as he jerked his cock from his mother's cunt and his cum spurted high into the air. Tim had the grace to blush and hang his head. “I am just happy that Jerry caught my signal that something was wrong,” Mara said, as she listened to them. “I tried to let him know that we were in trouble by just looking at him.” “Well, apparently your ESP was working, or your eyes are on the same wavelength,” Martin said, “for he was on the horn right away telling me about it.” “What will happen to the man?” asked Mara. “Oh, he is on his way back to prison. The woman will be charged with some minor thing, serve about three months and then get out. She was just incidental to the entire affair. Bill Trooper is one mean hombre and you are lucky to get off as easily as you did.”

She served an evening meal to them and they spent some time on the patio, talking in the early dark of the evening. Finally Martin stretched and rose. “Well, Mrs. Fletcher, I gotta be going.

Jerry, you going back with me?” “Yeah, Marty.” Jerry rose lazily.

He grinned at Mara and she knew what he was thinking, remembering the scene of their encounter a few weeks ago, and then the white scamper of her buttocks as she scrambled for her clothes after Marty had burst into the cabin. Mara and Tim walked down to the quay with them and saw them off in the motorboat, brought over from the main landing.

They waved at the two men and then returned to the house. “We are sure lucky to get out of that mess with no more than a few bruises,”

Tim told her as they sauntered back toward the patio. He put a hand around her and reaching under her armpit, snuggled a firm tit in his palm. The nipple instantly stirred to life. “That we are,” she admitted. “I just hope that he never gets out of prison again to come looking for us. I wonder if Mike did actually cheat him out of a share of money on one of the jobs they did together? Or just hearing of him being dead, decided to do me out of some cash?” She reached down and began to rub the bulge in his crotch, feeling it stir and stand and grow under her hand. “I guess we will never know.” He turned her so they faced and began kissing her, both hands now massaging

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