God Laughs

Chapter Two:

This is a chain story written by Jezzaz, Todd172, Stev2244, Harddaysknight, Girlinthemoon, Qhml1, Oshaw and blackrandl1958. One different author wrote each chapter in this story, building on the work of the preceding author. We are submitting one chapter each day until the story is finished. We would like for you, the readers, to see if you can spot who wrote the different chapters. If you care to hazard a guess, you may leave it in a comment on the story. If no one is right, we will pick the one closest to right and one, or more, of us will dedicate our next story to you. If multiple persons are right, we will dedicate the story to all who are right. We will wait one week after the posting of the last chapter, then announce which chapter was written by which author. This was a very entertaining exercise for us, and we may do it again. We hope you enjoy the story, Napalminthemorning.

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Things remained quiet for another ten minutes before various agencies began pulling into our circular drive and parking behind the pizza delivery cars. Two FBI men wearing dark suits and Ray-Bans emerged from one car and immediately approached Amber and me.

"We have a warrant to search the premises," declared the older of the two, defiantly, as he waved several sheets of official looking documents in front of my befuddled eyes.

"Okay," I replied with a shrug as I contemplated the impression with which the agents would be leaving.

"As long as you're looking, could you keep an eye out for a burgundy mohair sweater?" asked Amber sweetly. "I haven't seen it in ages and I'd like to wear it shopping next weekend."

Next, several men with ATF emblazoned on their windbreakers cautiously made their way up the sidewalk. They held their hands on the butts of their holstered handguns as they surveyed the scene.

"Is that a Cat D6T?" asked the last agent to reach us as he nodded toward the pool. "They're great machines! My brother has one, and he loves it."

"Never mind the dozer in the fucking pool!" snarled the apparent head agent as he produced a small ream of papers. "We're here to search your property. Any resistance will be met with deadly force. Snipers are positioned around the entire perimeter."

"Wow!" exclaimed the guy that had admired the dozer. "I didn't know that. When did they get here?"

"I'll never bring a damn rookie with me again!" bitched the guy in charge. "Never mind the snipers. Do you have any problem with us searching your property? Are you armed?"

"Now that you mention it, there does seem to be something in the side pocket of these baggy-ass pants," I replied as I stood and reached into the pocket and pulled out what looked like an Uzi, at least to my untrained eye.

All three ATF agents yanked their handguns from their holsters and pointed them at me as I explained. "Be careful. These aren't my pants, so I have no idea what's in them. Let me just empty the pockets."

I placed the weapon gently on the steps and reached back into the same pocket. I pulled out several vials and a baggie with some sort of powder in it and put everything next to the Uzi.

"Is that everything?" demanded the suspicious lead agent.

"It is for that pocket," I responded as I dug a .44 Magnum from the left pocket and carefully placed it next to the other items. I finally understood the need to wear those damn baggy pants. They held a lot of shit!

"Excuse me," broke in Amber as the trio stared at the items I had removed from my pockets.

She lifted her booted foot for them to see, she asked a favor. "I misplaced a boot that matches this one. Could you keep an eye out for it while you conduct your search?"

"Yes, Ma'am!" responded the rookie. "Would you like us to find a bra and panties for you while we're at it? That's a great tattoo, by the way."

My head snapped around so fast I became dizzy again, but I had to ask. "When did you get that 'PRIME'? Did it hurt? It does look sexy as hell!"

"I have a tattoo?" asked my surprised wife. "It says 'PRIME'?"

"Yeah. It's on your left ass cheek and it jiggles a little when you move," interjected the third agent, who had been silent up to that point.

"I'm just glad the ATF approves. Do you think it's accurate?" teased Amber.

"Definitely! That's one prime ass. I'd love to tap..." began the rookie before he noticed my stare and tapered off suddenly.

"As much as I'd like to discuss my wife's ass with you gentlemen, we seem to have more company, so if you'd excuse us?" I stated politely but firmly enough for them to take the hint.

They gathered the contents of Tyrone's pockets and headed for the front door. Amber and I turned to meet our next visitors. I couldn't help but feel like I was in a receiving line. Two men wearing jumpsuits that were proudly labeled 'CTU' stopped in front of us.

"I thought Counter Terrorism Unit was an acronym created for a TV show," I offered as the two men gazed at my wife's charms.

"Most people tell us that," agreed the man on the left. "You have a great ass, Ma'am, and that tattoo is perfect."

"That's what most men tell her," I replied petulantly. "You guys didn't come here to check out my wife's ass, so what do you want?"

"We have a search warrant. Looking at your wife's ass is just a nice perk," was the insolent reply of the apparent leader. "We're going to go look around, unless you care to make an objection, and even then, it won't make a damn bit of difference."

"While you're at it, look for a glove that's a mate to this one," requested Amber as she pointed to the rubber glove lying couple of feet away.

I was watching the two CTU guys go in the kitchen door, when I was startled by a voice from behind me. I quickly turned around, fought off the nausea and took in my latest questioner. It was a tall blonde woman dressed in a pant suit. Her badge was partially covered by her lapel.

"Excuse me," began the blonde. "I'm with the ASPCA and I'm here to..."

That was as far as she got before my wife groaned loudly as she slowly sat back down. She turned pale and started trembling. The FBI, ATF and the CTU hadn't even fazed her, but this woman had her worried? I filed that way as the blonde lady spoke again.

"We've had reports from neighbors of some sort of illegal or immoral dog and pony show taking place in your pool house. Are you aware of any animals being abused on your property? The neighbors claim they could hear a dog in pain and a horse screaming."

I had a bad feeling about this. I turned to my wife and allowed her the opportunity to respond to the question.

"Abuse? I don't think it would be classified as abuse," responded Amber nervously. "When you say 'abuse', do you mean treating an animal with cruelty or violence?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean," declared the blonde.

"Good" retorted Amber. "I was afraid that you meant 'using something to bad effect or for a bad purpose'. No animals were treated with cruelty or violence. Quite the opposite, in fact."

The woman from the ASPCA looked at Amber closely before asking, "Would you point me toward your pool house? I'll decide what constitutes abuse to animals!"

"It's around the back of the house, but I don't think you should go alone," cautioned Amber. 'They're..."

"Don't presume because I'm a woman that I can't do the job!" snapped the blonde as she headed around the corner of the house.

"Let's have a seat," urged Amber. "This should be interesting."

We sat there in the early morning sun enjoying our coffee when a loud whinny pierced the tranquility. It was immediately followed by very gruff, deep bark from what had to be a very large dog. In turn, a lingering, almost human scream echoed around the property. An FBI agent came running out the front door with his weapon drawn. The odd thing was he was otherwise totally naked. He listened for a few seconds and took off around the side of the house.

I looked at Amber with some concern, but she smiled and took another sip of her coffee. Less than minute later a good sized pony ran into the front yard and began grazing near the elephant. It was wearing a rubber boot on its left front foot. Then a huge mastiff sauntered into the yard. The middle finger of a large rubber glove appeared to be inserted in his ass. When he spotted Amber he immediately wagged his tail, waved his glove, and started toward us.

"Uh oh!" exclaimed Amber as she jumped up and sprinted for the house, slamming the door just before the huge dog could catch her. As I stood staring at the door, the blonde ASPCA lady appeared to my left. She was running across the yard in the direction of her car. What little clothes she had left were in tatters and her large breasts swung like pendulums as she ran. Seeing the woman trying for the safety of her automobile galvanized the pony into action. He took off at a dead run and managed to reach the car a few yards in front of the woman. With one last shriek, the ASPCA lady turned and took off down the driveway with both the pony and the mastiff in hot pursuit. They were gaining steadily on her as all three disappeared from sight behind the news station vans now parked at the bottom of the drive.

I heard another, somewhat manlier gasp in the yard to my right. I turned in time to see the naked FBI agent fleeing from the blonde midget with the impressive strap-on. He had lost his weapon and appeared to be in fear of losing his anal virginity, as well. I thought he was going to elude the little woman until Bubbles suddenly stood up and stepped out of the hedge.

She may have been made up to look like a clown, but the agent knew a nice set of tits when he saw them. His surprise and delight at seeing Bubbles caused him to slow his pace slightly. That hesitation allowed the midget to tackle him, and they both fell into Bubbles. The three went rolling across the yard. I have no idea how they managed it, but when the rolling finally stopped, the agent was impaled by the midget while Bubbles was riding the agent's face. His screams were rather muffled, and they eventually morphed into moans. I turned and headed for the house.

Amber was leaning over the kitchen sink, washing her hair with Joy, the detergent, not the naked woman watching from the dining room doorway. The naked woman was the same red-head with the incredibly huge tits who spent at least part of the night on my pool table. Amber's ass jiggled as she scrubbed her head and muttered. It looked PRIME!

"That goddamn pony," were the only words I was able to make out, since Amber's head was in the sink and she was talking down the drain.

Then the red-head noticed me and hurried into the kitchen. By the time she reached me her tits were in resonance, causing her to stagger and lurch as she struggled to rein in her massive melons. I could see she was fighting a losing battle, so I stepped in and wrapped my arms around as much of her left orb as I could. That slowed the right one enough to allow her to regain control of her amazing mammaries.

"Thanks! I see your eye's turning black from when I accidently slapped you with Wesson last night. I feel bad about that," confessed the huge-titted red-head, as she leaned into look at my face more closely. "Now that I look, I can see where my nipples scratched your cheeks. I never had anyone enjoy Smith and Wesson the way you did last night. I thought you were going to be smothered to death when you insisted I place both nipples in your mouth at the same time."

Fuzzy memories began trickling through my mind as I turned to check to be certain that Amber was still washing her hair and unable to hear Red telling how she almost killed me with Smith and Wesson. To my chagrin, Amber was standing next to me with a shit eating grin.

"Those marks on his face are from those rock-like pierced nipples and that shiner was caused by a huge tit slapping him in the eye?" queried Amber as she studied my face.

"Yeah, I was on top and got to rocking a little too hard," admitted the red head. "My left tit, Smith, smacked him upside the head, thus making him flinch and turn the other way. That placed him in perfect position for what I refer to as a full-Wesson. He blacked out for about a minute, but his cock got even harder."

"I see," chuckled Amber. "To think I was concerned about the dog and pony show. So you two spent the night together?"

"We finished the night together, but I was late to the party. He had that little albino doubled up like a pretzel on the pool table when I came into the room. I think he would've fucked her to death if he hadn't gotten his arm stuck in the side pocket when he tried to wrap her up for the grand finale. He cried like a little bitch until Tyrone and that naked lady cop cut him free.

"That little bitch with the strap-on was trying to climb up on the table when I punted the little shit across the room and mounted this stud myself. His eye will probably be even blacker by tonight, but he'll be fine in a few days."

"So my husband took good care of you, except for when he was tit slapped unconscious?" asked Amber with way too much pleasure. "He was having fun with an albino while those cops were interrogating me?"

"I saw part of that interrogation," laughed the big titted red head. "I thought you'd break when they told that tattoo guy they'd arrest him if he didn't do your ass."

"That's when I got that tattoo! I was wondering about that."

"No, the dumb shit thought the cops wanted him to literally do your ass. He was balls deep in your butt before they could explain what they wanted from him. He finished and passed out less than minute into the act," recalled Red before continuing. "It was that damn midget that tattooed your ass cheek, and she did a mighty fine job!"

"Not the one with that huge strap-on? I'm lucky the little bitch didn't try to shove that thing up my ass!" marveled Amber.

"Well, you were passed out, and so were the cops by that time. If it's any consolation, you really seemed to enjoy it. Even better, she got both cops, and the nun that gave you the enema. I guess those fucking strap-ons never go soft."

"Wow!" I managed as my head began to spin again. "What a great plan! We were going to stop your boss from blackmailing us! I hope no one took any pictures."

"I didn't see anyone with a camera," admitted Red before she suddenly winced at a memory. "Except the one armed guy. He said he was live streaming most of the night's events on his FaceBook page. Smith and Wesson may be famous by now."

"That's why we're here," stated one of the ATF agents as he entered the room. "Your party was all over the internet. Unfortunately, Senator Blake was one of the stars. At least he was until that damn elephant stepped on his balls and your landscaping crew showed up with their friends, who happened to be four albino Albanian terrorists. Now the shit's really hit the fan!

"Luckily, Lover Boy fucked one of them into a coma, so she was left behind. We're trying to get her coherent enough to tell us what she knows," added the agent as he gazed at me with obvious admiration.