Hot And Fuzzy Pt 03

Hi, everyone again. So after the rip-roaring success of the first sex-story I ever wrote I decided to have a crack at an entirely new sex story...ish, this time based on my favourite buddy cop movie. This is part 3 of 7 (not including the prelude).

As such there will be mild spoilers for the film on which this work is loosely based and so I would suggest you watch that film first.

For everyone already familiar with the film, all participating characters in the following works are over 18.

That's it.

Day 2

Meet and Greet

I woke up as my alarm beeped me awake. I reached out and knocked it off and lay back in bed, looking at the ceiling. I wondered if I dreamed-up last night's activities, whether the six-person orgy I partook in was nothing more than a lewd fantasy due to the explicit imagery I had been bombarded with over the previous 24 hours. It would have been nice if such a display of unfaithfulness had been nothing but a figment of my imagination...but I knew it wasn't. I had fucked Michelle, Martine and Talia over a two hour period as our orgy had reached new and devilish heights of wantoness. I had spit-roasted Michelle with Martin, watching as she ran her tongue up and down the tip of my cock, before Martin bundled himself inside her. While my cock was in her mouth I watched as Talia licked at Martine's pussy as it was rammed by her husband, Trent, with an occasional slip where it dropped from Martine's wet cleft and dropped neatly into Talia's waiting mouth.

Talia.

That body looked tight and taut in her police uniform but out of it she was a goddess, her boobs, large enough not to be spaniel's ears and small enough not to be sagging down with age. The blonde minx had wrapped herself around me several times over the course of those hours, and I had not stopped. I felt more alive than I had in years, but at the cost of an enormous amount of guilt now. I checked my phone and there on the screen was a message from Mel.

"Call me."

What the fuck was I doing? My stomach felt suddenly cold, like I had just taken the big first turn at the start of a rollercoaster. My breathing was coming in short bursts as I felt panic overcome me. Did Mel know? How had she found it? Was it some kind of psychic wife thing? I had to calm down. I pulled back the sheets to wash the smell of sex off me and there looking back at me was mini-Mike, standing and pointing like an angry dog pulling on a leash. I wondered if I should get rid of him first or get my morning jog out of the way to get the blood pumping elsewhere. I consulted my oldest and wisest friend.

"Should I get rid of my morning wood?" I asked before violently shaking my best bud. His answer was most definite.

My reply is no.

Jog on, it is.

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"Did you have a good night?" Sylvia asked as she bustled about bringing the assorted guests their breakfast.

"Yes, thanks," I replied, trying to keep a neutral expression on my face. "The Forston Surveillance Organisation meeting was most interesting".

"The what?" Sylvia asked, her face scrunched up in puzzlement.

"The FSO meeting. The Forston Surveillance Organisation?" I repeated. This time she thought and nodded before replying.

"Ah, yes. FSO does spell Forston Surveillance Organisation, doesn't it?" Sylvia responded before moving closer and whispering in my ear.

"No, I mean did you enjoy yourself when you got back, you naughty boy?" Sylvia asked. My heart and hard-on reacted in the same way as they had this morning with my stomach dropping away and my member starting to solidify as my eyes drew over Sylvia's body as she wearing a flowery dress that clung to her breasts and hips, her long wavy auburn-red hair flowing into the umber dress like she was some kind of autumn nymph.

I opened my mouth but no words came out as my rod stretched the material of my pants whilst my mind wandered back to Shaun fucking her naked body on the bed, the two young women with them on the bed also, my eyes moving down to her boobs and remembering how dark her areoles were. "Shaun and I watched you from the landing. He fucked me from behind while you were fucking Talia, but don't worry, we wont say anything. I'll go and get your breakfast".

Sylvia wriggled her arse from side to side as she moved through the tables and guests to get my breakfast, walking away as if to attract the attention of everyone sat eating breakfast. As I watched her pass by the tables I could see the young women, Stephanie and Sara sat gobbling down a full-English. They both looked at me and smiled after the moment we shared the first night, my mind wandering back to Sara lying on the bed with the toy between her legs, her skin shining, her chest reddening, her thighs quivering as her orgasm took hold, Stephanie staring directly at me as Shaun smashed her pussy from behind, his hips slapping against her backside as she savoured every stroke. Would I get a chance to...Oh my God, what was I thinking. I was a married man, married to Mel, Mel who texted me last night for me to call her and...

"There you go, Sergeant. Cereal, milk, toasted soldiers and an egg just the way you like it, with..." Sylvia said, startling me as I got lost in my own dirty thoughts.

"Yes, with the top knocked off, thank you," I replied as I started to remove the items from the tray and onto my table, or I was till my phone lit-up. I looked down expecting to see Mel's name but it simply said 'work'.

"Sergeant Angelo," I stated in my professional voice, before my colleague spoke and said something truly shocking.

"What? The top knocked-off?"

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There on the ground was the head of Clive Clark. This was a most unsettling image but one thing made it even more unnerving. He was smiling. On Clive's torn-off head a big dopey grin was plastered. Like he knew his head was about to be torn off and he was delighted with the outcome. I could see the sign he allegedly hit that had blood beneath it. The car had carried on and hit Farmer Carter's fuel tank and...well, boom. Not a pleasant end for the passenger who was now burnt to a crisp who I would think was Carly Clipper.

"Soooo!" Sergeant Fuller began before she crept ever closer to me. "What do we think?"

"I think we need to cover the head from passers-by, get a corden in place and direct traffic whilst we wait for the forensics team to recover the vehicle and clean up the area," I assessed, instinctively.

"Just what I was thinking," Sergeant Francince agreed before starting to set things up. As I looked at the scene of the supposed accident a few things struck me. There were no skid marks on the road, the head seemed to be blissfully unaware of the danger about to befall him yet made no attempt to apply the brakes and also the location of the fuel tank and the explosion of the vehicle removing any traces of evidence seemed awfully convenient.

"What happened, Danielle?" I heard someone ask my buxom colleague.

"Traffic accident," Danielle replied to Doctor Deborah Diviner as she stopped on her bike to have a nosey.

"Ooh, nasty that," Deborah said before pedalling on her way.

"Constable we refer to these incidents as collisions, rather than accidents," I advised.

"Oh right, then. Ooh, hey! That reminds me. I got a statement from Catherine Carter. She said she saw something about the time of the explosion," Dani informed me, causing me to metaphorically sit up and start making mental connections in my head. Did they force Clive off the road, forced him into the barrier, used the explosion to mask another crime?

"What did she see?" I questioned as Dani ran down her notes.

"Er...a white sports car, might have been yellow, or green, or grey, and it might have been a hatchback, not a sports car," Dani began.

"Was it fleeing the scene?" I continued.

"Er...she couldn't say," Dani remarked.

"Could she identify the vehicle?" I asked.

"Ooh, I got the answer to that," Dani replied excitedly, as she flicked through the pages of her notebook. "Er...er...er...no".

"So, someone saw a car...that's it," I summarised feeling any potential leads drop out like a stoner son from college. It was then that Byron Butcher drove past in his white convertible Mercedes.

"Tragic, tragic, tragic. A sadder tale you wouldn't surmise, of Clive and Carly Clipper's demise," Byron Butcher offered as he slowed to a crawl near me.

"Mister Butcher, do you mind telling me how you know the names of the victims, please?" I asked as he flashed me his toothy grin, looking everything like a cartoon villain. At that moment he was Dick Dastardly made-flesh.

"In the digital-age news travels fast!" Byron stated before surging off, the clang of 'the unforgettable fire' blasting out from his car stereo.

"Here, why do we say collision and not accident?" Danielle queried.

"Because an accident suggests foul play wasn't involved," Said I as I watched Byron's car roar into the distance.

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The rest of the day progressed with Danielle and myself called out to meaningless assignments like trying to get the chickens back into the humanist churchyard after a complaint call from Atticus Grammaticus which I assumed was a fake name, but apparently not.

The Humanist church and churchyard looked like it had seen better days and when I reached there I was greeted by the ever cheery Hugh Huntsman. He was one of those people who was so hard to put an age on. He had a full head of silver hair but still managed to hold onto a very clear, unwrinkled complexion. It tickled me that he was wearing a cardigan and plaid shirt again but just a different one (I wondered just how many of those he had).

"I am sorry for the chickens getting out and causing havoc on the road," said Hugh, apologising profusely as soon as he saw us arrive.

"It's all right, Hugh. Need a hand getting them back in?" I asked, already feeling myself warming to the ever-gracious, humanist Pastor. We got the chickens back inside the grounds and quickly helped him make some makeshift repairs to the enclosure which held the chickens.

"The chickens provide a valuable extra income for the humanist chapel, but they are bastards I'm afraid," chuckled Hugh as he nodded towards the feathered trouble-makers.

"Looks like the place has seen better days. How do you manage to stay afloat?" I asked out of genuine curiosity.

"Oh, well the income from the chickens help. I also receive a small amount from the humanist organisation, the sunday sermons also bring in a little cash and because of the historic nature of the building there's also a sum of money from the local council for the upkeep of the building, although there's a problem with that at the minute," Hugh replied, the cheery smile fading from his lips as he considered that.

"What is the issue with that then?" said I, curious as to what the problem was.

"It's...er...it's the county council leader Raymond Wright. He's trying to get our funding cut. He's also editor-in-chief of the local newspaper so he has a huge say in the local community," Hugh offered as an answer looking forlornly at the building. The stained glass windows were still intact but the roof of the church looked like it was starting to fall apart and the masonry was clearly crumbling in several areas, particularly at the top of the steeple. It was sad to see as clearly it was a magnificent building just in need of repair.

"How much would it cost to get it repaired?" Danielle asked as she too stared in wonder at this glorious building.

"Several thousand at the minute. We're hoping to do some fundraising with the fete we're holding. I assume you will both be here?" Hugh enquired, his kindly voice full of hope. I was reluctant to make a commitment I couldn't keep but Danielle interjected for me.

"Yeah, we wouldn't miss it for the world, would we?" Danielle interjected, gazing at me full of hope.

"No...of course not," I replied. "We'd be more than happy to make an appearance.

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Danielle and I headed back to the station after rounding up the chickens and seeing the rundown state of the old Humanist Chapel. I couldn't help but feel sorry for Hugh Huntsman. He seemed very upset at the prospect of Raymond Wright forcing him out, but I couldn't blame him. I felt forced out of London and knew how jarring that could be. However for the sake of my partner, Danielle, I put that aside as we decided to lunch at the pub, myself on the tonic water and club sandwich and her on a cider and pie.

"So, what's the most traumatic thing that's ever happened to you as a police officer?" Danielle asked as I pondered on the flaming death and decapitation of Carly and Clive that morning. There was just something not sitting right about it, from Byron Butcher's comments on their demise, the scene of the death, the lack of skid marks, the way the scene felt staged. I didn't know if I was reading too much into it after all my years in the city but two deaths within two days of my arriving in the safest village in the country seemed odd.

"Erm...I was stabbed in the hand in the line of duty," I replied glibly as I took notes.

"Fucking hell!" Dani exclaimed. That sounds awesome. I bet it hurt.

"I couldn't use my left hand for three months and needed extensive physiotherapy. I still need to work on it now," I remarked casually.

"I theenk your hand is fine," Michelle stated as she lifted my left hand and kissed it, before taking my empty glass from the table. My cheeks inflamed with embarrassment as Dani raised her eyebrows at me. I turned and watched her backside move deliciously from side to side as she returned to the bar and remembered the previous evening with mouth-watering clarity.

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I moved behind Martine as she wiggled her small but grabbable naked arse in the air and kneel forward, cock in hand to move it deep inside her wet pussy. The French beauty turns to look at me, her dark brunette bob framing her face like a modern day Louise Brookes. She smiles and winks knowing what I'm about to do. I moved forward, my cock pulsing as I fed it into Martine's wet, waiting snatch, sliding slowly inside as she envelopes me inside her hot body. I look up and see that both Talia and Michelle are now with the respective other halves, Talia being pounded furiously by Trent as he powers into her, his eyes and hers locked together, almost like a competition between the chiselled husband and wife.

"Come on, Trent! Fuck me! Fuck me, Trent!" Talia spat through clenched teeth as he continued to smash his hips into hers, a hot, wet, smacking noise coming from the two of them as they moved together.

"You, dirty bitch, you fucking love it don't you!" Trent snarled back as he continued to move, now grinding his body against Talia, causing her to let out a low moan as he shifted his weight against hers, his length staying fully inside as he moved his hips against her clit as she gargled in delight.

"I fucking love it, I fucking love it!" Talia smirked in delight as she lay her head back in bliss to Trent's movements, a dirty laugh echoing from her throat as they moved against each other. "Make me cum, you bastard!"

Trent then changed his movements so that his legs were off the ground as he slid his long skinny dick inside his sopping wet wife. Meanwhile Martin and Michelle merely kissed as they slowly fucked together with him on top, the contast between him and Trent being striking as he slowly moved in and out of Michelle, his hips rising slowly as they kissed, her hand moving through Martin's hair as they sighed into each other's mouths as they kissed, Martin's hands holding Michelle by her shoulders, gripping her against him as he savoured the slow sensuous screw.

I continued to power into Martine from behind, driving moans of joy as she breathlessly watched the two other couples fuck in front of us, before she disengaged herself and led on the ground, legs open, waiting for me to move myself on top of her and take her.

"Oui, Sergeant! Oui!" she grinned through strained breaths, her body laid out for me to enjoy. I looked down at her, the sweat glistening and shimmering in the firelight. Martine was slight, unlike my Mel, whom one could call statuesque. I could pick Martine up, hold her in the air and slide her up and down my member, but I didn't want that now. I just wanted to ease myself inside her. I moved slowly over her, the flames giving her body a beautiful amber glow as I let my body meet hers, her breasts squishing against my chest, her left arm wrapping around my neck as she reached down with her right hand and moved me inside her welcoming moist pussy.

Above my head I could hear Martin and Michelle sigh and whimper in slow-fuck delight as Trent and Talia's frenzied approach filled the room with animalistic passion as they grunted and encouraged each other, but my focus was on Martine. The French beauty lay beneath me, her doughy stare full of lust and hunger as I moved inside her, my body moving against hers as her hands and arms reached around my back and hips, like she was some kind of hungry erotic octopus, my body responded as I increased the power of my strokes.

"Martine, you are beautiful," I said as she moved her mouth to mine and we kissed.

"Oh, MMMMM! That's it. That's it! Come inside me, Trent! FUCKING FILL ME!" Talia growled through her clenched teeth as her sweat-drenched hubby drilled against her his rod pistoning in and out of his wild wife like he was some kind of machine.

"I'm gonna fucking fill you, you filthy slut! Oh my FUCKING GOD!" Trent shouted as he stiffened, his eyes going wide his hips no longer moving as he held them against Talia, her athletic body becoming taut beneath him as she felt him fill her with his cum before he moved down to kiss his wife before she breathlessly nuzzled him against her neck, a look of satisfaction smeared over the young officer's cum-stained face. This seemed to trigger the rest of us as Martin and Michelle's passion began to increase. I started to plough into the slight brunette beneath me as her breathing became heavier as we picked up the pace.

"Oh yeah! Oh yeah, OH NO!" Michelle cried as her legs tightened around Martin's waist as he stopped moving also, their bodies locked together in perfect synch as husband and wife came together before Martin collapsed onto his smiling better half, Michelle looking at me and blowing me a kiss from her position underneath her other half. This left Martine and myself as the last couple standing.

"Fuck me, Sergeant!" Martine begged as she tightened her gripping thighs around me.

"With fucking pleasure, ma'am!" I responded as I powered inside her, my cock sluicing inside the slit of this delicious, slight woman who looked as though such actions could break her, but it didn't. I moved so I could see the better part of me move inside her. The light illuminated us perfectly as I drilled into Martine, the light showing her cum stained dark hair and stomach, but I didn't care. I was lost in this lust-filled moment as I increased my pace but with a slight pressure at the end to tip her over the edge. It seemed to work as she held on more ferociously as I slammed my thick rod inside her, my hands now firmly gripping her shoulders for traction as I smashed my hips against hers for dear life.

"Cum inside me, please," Martine asked as I pistoned inside her.

"Cum in my seester, Mike," Michelle chimed in.

"Fuck that slut good, sarge!" Talia commanded. I looked away from Martne for a moment to see Talia and Michelle eyeing me with hungry eyes, delighting in my samina and clearly wanting part of it, Michelle licking her lips as she watched me rail her sister. I could feel Martine's quim start to move around my cock as she moaned beneath me, her breathing quickening as she gazed at me with adoring eyes.