Bumping Uglies

I love being a policeman.

I swore in becoming a police officer to protect and serve, but over time I learned I loved the perks that came with the badge: discounts, travel, and women, and not necessarily in that order.

I worked on the Portsmouth force for 10 years before I was tapped for sergeant, getting the chance to sway away from regular beat cop to detective, as my captain saw my citizen reviews, my arrest record, then urged I get a little more "involved."

"I'd like to see you be the chief we need round here," Jeremy told me as I was known to the communities as a trusted, respected servant, but on the force, I was the star in making clearances.

"Your hardest assignment is yet to come, yet it will be your most rewarding," he added.

I kept those words in my back pocket as I would become what you would call a "major crimes" detective, handling mostly big drug cases and homicides as there was an uptick of both at the time. This meant even more visibility within the roughest neighborhoods as I replaced the creased, blue uniform for street clothes, or the occasional suit and tie.

"Guess someone was promoted," said Lena as the "neighborhood owl," as I called her, yelled from her porch one summer afternoon. "It's a little too hot for that fine, fabric suit."

I was rummaging the area for clues after a recent murder as the offense appeared drug-related, and I had to walk the beat to try to piece together clues.

"So now what? You switching on us," she asked.

I walked up to her porch, then tried to set foot on the concrete block to evade the sun.

"Unh uh, you one of them now," she said.

By "them" she meant me being a detective, or "snitch hoarder," vice just a regular cop as in her eyes I could relate better as the former. Lena herself over the years gave subtle tips of crimes in the past, and had three brothers and a son locked away for drug offenses as oddly enough she claimed against speaking with the police.

"One of these young bucks see you up here talking with me, and it might not be good," she said. Re

W W

I listened to the caramel colored woman who might've been pushing her mid 50s, but looked to be in her mid was e430s tell me the "rules of the hood." In the years of me coming to this particular neighborhood we always crossed paths as she barely wore makeup for that naturally gorgeous, smooth face. Lena carried a trim waist and the nicest curves I've seen on a woman of her height as she had to have been no more than five foot five.

"Just because I'm a sleuth now doesn't mean I'm a different person. I thought we wanted the same thing," I asked as I stepped away from her porch at this moment.

"Things have gotten a little tighter around here lately," she countered.

I understood, then saluted this bombshell before I walked off and hopped in my car, determined to gather information from her at another time. I came back to the scene one Saturday morning as the neighborhood was still fairly sleep, walking the same path, hoping she'd be on the porch.

"You back," she said as I walked past her home.

I'd hit jackpot as it seemed like she had amnesia of what she said, and spilled all the beans of crime from the rumors, to what seemed to be true. I chided her for holding back on me as she already had my number.

"Some things you have to hold close to the vest and let go at the right time," she said as we were sitting and talking at 7 a.m.

I stepped on the porch to sit down as we were enjoying the morning summer breeze. I noticed she was wearing no makeup and a house gown, which exposed her fine skin and gave off natural radiance.

I listened to her sweet, soft voice rattle off key details, and when she gave me what I needed, I thanked her, then offered to shake her hand before I departed.

"That's it? That's all you needed from me," she said as I got a glimpse of her hazel eyes for the first time.

I complimented her and asked if she was of mixed race.

"Native American, Cuban and black, so yes. My dad was the first two I just mentioned, and my mother is black," she said.

Something made me sit back down as now we weren't discussing crime, but really getting to know each other.

"I'm 56, divorced, got three daughters, all grown and living on their own," I told her as she was shocked to hear of me having kids.

"Just thought I was some rogue cop," I asked as we burst out laughing.

We talked for about an hour about futures, and how she had aspirations to finally leave the neighborhood since her son and daughter, grown and in Arizona, were away.

"I ain't had a man in years, since my boy's father was around," she mentioned while waving her arms around. "I'm free."

I sinced loneliness in her voice, and suddenly the charismatic, smooth talking Lena was looking prettier than a tulip.

"So you've been single all these years," I asked. "How do you deal with it?"

She chuckled, and explained that as long as she had "Jeffrey" and "Donald," she could manage to get through her drought.

"I can fix my own things around the house, take out the trash and change the oil, and as long as those two are around, I can remain a content woman," she said.

"You need a real Jeffrey or Donald, woman," I said to her.

She giggled, and my mind wandered to how she played with those vibrators, and how juicy she might've been. I for one was curious about black women for I never courted one and wanted to try. I continued to listen, until she pointed the conversation back to me.

"56? Charles, I always thought for some reason you were younger," she said.

The flirting began as she was opening up and throwing jabs, indirectly complimenting me on my smile and physique.

"I work out six times a week. I cook for myself, and only pig out when the girls come to town. I have to take care of myself," I told her as I was reclining on her porch, feeling the increased breeze come through due to the pending rain.

We continued to talk for maybe an hour when the raindrops began falling slowly

"Let's go inside," she said.

The street was still quiet besides the rain hitting the ground, and background rumbles of thunder. I trotted to my car and brought it to her driveway, then rushed inside as darker clouds came in, and the lightning flashed brighter. I sat on her couch in her living room, watching a movie while she was in the kitchen,and out of sight, then a minute later she passed me in a dark blue teddy that exposed her voluptuousness, and donned laced panties that barely covered her beautiful, light colored onion.

"I made some lemonade before you came by this morning," she said as she brought the pitcher and a tray with two glasses.

She'd bend over to where I got a glimpse of those perfect tits, inadvertently pouring the liquid into the glasses. Once she finished she'd sit down beside me, we toasted, then I'd gulp some of the best tasting lemonade I ever had.

"So Chuck, why are you still single," she asked.

I explained the pros and cons, and let her know that I wasn't necessary looking to get married.

"Been there, done that," she said as he changed position on the couch.

I got a better view of that stacked body as she answered her own question.

"I imagine myself being alone for the rest of my life, and have become completely fine with that," she stated.

She continued on about her pros and cons as I watched her words exert from her full lips, as she explained to me the goodness of being alone. I finished my lemonade then made my move, trying to execute in my curiosity as our lips met for 30 seconds. I pulled back, bracing myself to get slapped or reprimanded by her voice.

"That was nice," she said, then she reached over to me as I took off my jacket, then leaned back as now she was crawling on top of me.

I felt her middle and it was warm, with her straddling my chest with her legs wide as the width of my body. She looked down at me with that ivory white smile and felt up my chest, and I unbuttoned my shirt in order for her to run her pretty little hands across my hairy pectorals. She sucked her teeth in delight as she admired my body, from my thick neck, down to my six pack.

"You are one gorgeous white man," she said

I took offense to her acknowledgement of race and stood up, catching her before she fell as she'd end up with her legs around my waist. I could tell I took her aback as that crotch of hers was on fire, warmer and perhaps wetter from the magnitude of my strength. We kissed some more as we walked down the hall into her bedroom, as if I had a radar of the location where I'd dine on that pussy. I laid her down gently at the edge, then bent to my knees to slip my hand into her soggy underwear to put a finger in that smoking trench.

"You're a damned quagmire," I told her as I fumbled inside her pussy, feeling it pull on and saturate my finger.

I pulled out to suck the sweet juices off, then she pulled off the garment and spread her legs for me to have a full on feast. My mustache was drenched immediately while I French kissed the twat, with her moans being the sound of approval as tongue tussled with her pussy lips. I let her get her rocks off and continue to moan before I was running my head up and down her slit as I couldn't get enough of her flavor. Lena was naturally sweet, and perfectly manicured as this allowed for easy navigation and great hygiene. I wiggled my tongue at her labia, making her cringe, then sucked that active clit as she would scream and drench my chin even more. I laughed as this "white man" she dubbed me made her cum profusely, and so hard that her body jerked and clenched from the climax.

"Guess I hit the spot," I said before finger popping her twat some more, rubbing that clit in record speed as she once again had a little squirt to give.

My cock was rock hard and I couldn't take another moment of torture so I stood up, rushed to get my shoes, trousers and underwear off then slipped my gard cock inside her cooch, giving her all of my six inches.

"Let me in," I said to her and she did, and we both gasped once I entered that fiery cave as my cock seemed to lean inside with ease.

"Go easy on me baby," I whispered and she opened her eyes and smiled, for she was working her muscle to do me.

No woman I been with had a pussy like hers, as she magically took control by pulling my shaft as I grooved slowly as not to cum too soon. I looked into her eyes, then she lowered her teddy to where her breasts popped out, and I'd lean down to lick and suck on those dark bullseye nipples before swirling my hips side to side. I wanted to knock around completely in that hot box, as it became competition to see who was stronger in a sense.

"Bet you ain't had none like this before," she said in her sexy laugh.

I raised up, holding her ankles together as I needed to reassert myself. She needed a reminder that I was more than just "a white man," but a real man who could beat pussy as if it was a drum. I pounded away as she tried running, making me grab her legs and lean forward as I spanked the clitoris from my position. She'd tap out after a few minutes and pull away from me, only to turn around and throw that stretched hole in the air for me to taste.

"Sweeter the second time around," I told her, right before I slipped in, and tapped away once more.

I loved the way it felt around my base as she was soggy and still somewhat taut, and so I plowed her deep and hard briefly until I grimaced, pulled out, and blazed her back with my cum, shooting shards of nut across her spine. The climax was so intense she had me whimpering like a little boy as she completely turned me out. I climbed onto the bed, and she laid on me as we both were sweaty.

"You brought your ass out here this morning for some pussy. You don't give a damn bout no case," she said.

I laughed for she was furthest from the truth, but she reminded me what came with the job, as I got clues to get convictions, and also received a new taste for women of color, as this summer day wouldn't be the last time she and I met to bump uglies.