Great White Dope

Special Thanks to Editor DaveT for his valiant attempts at editing (and his holding back thoughts of doing me bodily harm because of my slaughter of innocent grammar and spellings). I made some changes after his edits, so all and any errors are mine.

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We have all heard the cliché's, 'Good things happen to those who do good things', 'Play it forward', 'Bread cast upon the waters comes back tenfold', 'God does not always pay on Sundays', etc.

Bullshit, life is more like 'No Good Deed goes Unpunished.'

Of course that was not my thought when a grungy biker looking guy approached me late one night as I was putting the nozzle away from a well-worn pick-up truck, after filling up with gas.

"Hey buddy, can you help a scrambler out?" he asked, looking around

Now I could see why this guy thought I was biker. I had a skull and crossbones bandana wrapped around my head, which supported mirrored sunglasses. A scraggy beard matched the dark splotches on my oil splattered torn jeans. Add in my 6 foot,4 inch frame's not so insignificant belly, which a leather vest and dirty Harley Davidson Tee shirt did not do a good job of hiding, and I looked like the stereotypical biker.

However looks can be deceiving, as I was a complete poser. Not only could I barely ride a tricycle, I had trouble with any car not equipped with an automatic transmission. I was at this gas station only to fill up my Dad's truck after returning from a costume party at his house.

But what the hell. My wife was staying overnight at my Dads cleaning up ,with the kids. Why not live out my fantasy a little longer.

"Whatcha need, Pal?" I said, as I put away a massive billfold, complete with chain I had purchased last week at a flea market.

The biker looked around nervously before speaking. "I must have been doing a ton, when I and the cruiser ate some pavement back there." He pointed out to the darkness beyond the gas station. "Jammed the fork in a damn pothole and got me some fucking road rash doing an OTB. Took me forever to hoof it to here."

This guy was quite the chatterbox, but I had no idea what he was saying so I kept quiet.

"I need your chase here." He pounded on the side of my truck. "To scoop up my ride and ferry me back to the house." The biker pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket. "I can get more at the compound from the club if you need."

"Put that away," I said, as I waved at the money in Chatterbox's hand.

I was having an internal debate. This was a chance to see the inside of a REAL motorcycle hangout. That beat my day job of moving numbers around on a spreadsheet any day of the week and twice on Sunday. I tried to act calm as I scratched at my beard that took me two months to grow for the costume party.

"Get in, "I grunted to my chatterbox biker.

Chatterbox stopped talking for a second as he smiled and opened the passenger door.

++++

The twins rushed into the house the next morning, making me spill my coffee, with only the energy three year old boys can have.

"Daddy, Daddy, look what G'pa gave us!" They were still wearing their Batman costumes from the night before, but both wielding plastic baseball bats.

My wife Ann trailed in after them. "Boys, go change now, then you can go outside and play."

The kids ran to their rooms, whacking each other with the baseball bats as they scurried down the hallway.

"How was Dad?" I asked Ann as I poured her a cup of coffee.

Ann shrugged as she sat down. "Your Dad was happy to see the boys."

Dad and Ann had never 'clicked'. Although Ann had a good steady job as an admin assistant. Dad was not overjoyed when I told him I was going to marry Ann.

"Randal," Dad had said. "Why are you settling for such a plain, dull, boring women? The only reason I can see Ann agreeing to marry you, is you are the best she can get right now."

"Dad, Ann loves me, and I love her. We have the same interests, goals, desires and values. Why do you want to piss on my parade?"

Dad just waved his hand. "Blah, you'll both lead dreary, dull lives, until one day one of you will start wanting something better. Damn, son, live a little! Go get drunk, fuck some strange, howl at the moon. Otherwise you are gonna be saddled with 2.5 kids plus a house with a mortgage, working 9 to 5 as some drone. Do you want your life's highlight to be planning a two week vacation to Disneyworld or the fucking Grand Canyon? That kind of dismal existence is not living, just waiting to die."

Dad did not convince me to drop Ann, and truth be told, we did both work 9 to 5 jobs for the county, and we did look forward to taking the twins to Disneyworld. I did not think it was boring, and Ann seemed to enjoy our life. Of course, we had always lived that way, so how would we know the difference.

Ann's words brought me back to the present. "Your Dad seemed to enjoy the party. It is the first time since your Mom died that he even said something nice to me."

I feigned shock, putting my hand over my heart. "Dad gave you a compliment?"

Ann looked shyly over the rim of her coffee cup. "Yup, he liked my cat woman costume. Said he would love to see me climb a wall."

I laughed as Ann continued. "Your Dad wants his truck back right away. You know how he hates it when he has to drive your Prius Hybrid."

I smirked. "Dad never was exactly a 'Father Knows Best' TV Show, kind of Dad. His bedtime stories were along the lines of '..and all the kids cleaned their room, got Dad a beer and went straight to bed, THE END'.

Now it was Ann's turn to laugh as I leaned back in my chair. "But Ann, let me tell you about my little adventure with Dads truck last night..."

Ann sat mesmerized as I retold what happened. When I finished, she could not stop asking questions.

Finally she ran out of queries. "Randal, you were really at a motorcycle clubhouse? I am a little angry with you. What if something happened? I have seen 'Sons of Anarchy' on Netflix."

I waved my hand at her. "It was fine, they kept trying to get me to go to the back room with a girl.." I saw Ann's face get red, so I quickly added "Of course I didn't. Said I was recovering from a STD. 'Chatterbox', the guy I helped out last night, kept pushing beers on me."

"You don't drink."

"Sure Ann, Randal the accountant does not drink, but Randal the outlaw biker can handle a beer or two. But look what parting gift my new BFF gave me."

Ann watched as I pulled a little cellophane bag out of my shirt pocket.

"Randal, what is that?"

"Damn Ann I thought you were the TV series 'Breaking Bad' biggest fan. I think it is crystal meth. At least it looks like crystal meth."

"You are not going to try it, are you?" Ann said looking toward the hallway where the twins continued whacking each other with the plastic bats.

"Naw, I'll turn it over to the sheriff on Monday." I scratched my beard. "That reminds me, I got to shave this thing."

Ann ran a hand over my face, "Why don't you wait on that. The boys are busy, let's go into the bedroom and you can show me how an outlaw biker treats his old lady."

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I turned over the small bag to the sheriff, who was an old friend from high school, along with my biker tale on Monday.

On Friday he called me into his office. I still had my beard, Ann had really gotten into the whole 'Outlaw biker and old lady' role playing. Who was I to argue? If it got me this much sex, I would be Superman and pretend to fly, even though I can't even swim.

The Sheriff had another man in his office. The guy had "Government' written all over him. He was DEA and got right to the point.

"That dope you got is high quality stuff we think is coming from somewhere north, maybe out of Canada. We have never been able to establish a logistics route. Think you can help us out and make some introductions?"

I could not help stifle my laugh. "You can't be serious. Last weekend was a freak occurrence. Do not let the beard fool you, I move numbers around for a living, not drugs. You must have undercover guys for this kind of stuff."

"Oh we do, real good guys too." DEA continued. "But we need someone to make introductions. As a CI or confidential informant, you can do and say a lot more than a law enforcement officer. We just need a contact."

The Sheriff broke in. "Randal, think of it as an acting role, like the plays in High school. You know, all the world's a stage kinda thing."

I had done some walk on parts in high school, college and even at the local community theatre. There was always a role for the big dumb guy. But this was a whole different ballgame.

I looked at both of them in amazement. "Sure, all the worlds a stage and everyone is under-rehearsed and unprepared. Somehow I don't think being an elf in the school Christmas pageant is the same as pretending to be a meth dealing biker."

DEA spoke up. "Don't worry we will be behind you all the way."

"Oh Yeah? How far behind me?"

DEA ignored my comment. "You know how to get in touch with the guy?"

I pointed a finger at my head. "I do numbers for a living remember? I got it right here."

++++

NINE MONTHS LATER

The large banquet hall was filled to capacity for the celebration. It was an alphabet of law enforcement agencies, DEA, ATF, FBI, IRS, DHS, even the RCMP along with the State Troopers and a dozen county sheriffs offices. They were all celebrating the end of "Operation Great White" which had netted over 100 arrests and rolled up one of the west's biggest transportation, shipping and distribution meth operations.

Me? I was celebrating the end of my 'not so consensual' undercover CI role. No matter how many times I tried to get out, I was always being drawn back into the operation. The last eight months I had been moved to a different location to help with establishments of other agents cover and my family's safety. I had never been separated from my wife and sons so long, and was not happy about it.

Now I was sitting at a table, with my wife and father accepting constant congratulations from the fellows around the room. My Dad kept telling me how proud he was of me. Of course he was half sloshed from the open bar. Ann was also looking pretty tipsy after more than a few glasses of champagne.

My Dad had his arm around my shoulder "God Damn, Randal my son! You are fucking REAL man after all. I couldn't believe it when that Government Attorney guy showed up and said the cops needed your help."

I tried not to breath in my Dads booze breath. "Ah.. thanks Dad. I appreciate you looking after Ann and the boys for me. I know it must have been difficult."

Dad grabbed Ann with his other arm so abruptly she spilled her drink. "No worries.."He slurred. "Me and your bride got along fine... in fact.."

"We missed you." Ann broke in, moving out of Dads grasp and giving me a hug. "I missed you, the boys missed you. I wish you did not have to have been away so long..."

Suddenly a screeching feedback filled the room as a tall handsome man tried to speak into a podium mic.

He was the Federal Attorney who was given the task of overseeing "Operation Great White" when its scope became apparent.

"Let T Bone, the next Governor, speak!" A drunk voice yelled out from the crowd.

The Tall Man at the mic just smiled and waved at the assembled lawmen. I had been filled in by lots of the cops about him. From a wealthy, well connected political family on the coast, William T Boone or 'T Bone' had been an undergrad at Stanford, done Law school at Harvard, and after a stint in the Military JAG, was punching his ticket with the US Attorney's Office to groom him for a future Governor race.

As 'T Bone' droned on about what a great day this as for law abiding citizens, and how much safer the nation was, his pride, etc. I kept looking into Ann's eyes, she winked at me and crept her hand under the table to stroke my groin. My shock must have been evident on my face as Ann smiled and sped up her movements.

I glanced at my watch, wondering if we could slip away unnoticed.

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We were unable to slip away, and had to wait until the end of the entire event. Fortunately a nice town car had been provided for us. Dad was well-oiled, repeating himself to the driver about his 'Big Bad Undercover Son'. Ann was beyond tipsy and never took her eyes off me, holding onto my hand in a death grip. I was feeling no pain either, and wished the driver would hurry to my home.

I do not recall how I ended up in the living room alone, but remember my youngest boy shaking me awake.

"Whoa son, what are you doing up so late?" I asked in a stupor, taking him into my arms.

"G'pa and Mom are making lots of noise in the room and woke me up."

The boys each had their own rooms, but had moved in together so my Dad could take one of their rooms and stay with Ann when I got moved to the undercover house.

I carried my groggy son, stumbling up the stairs and putting him in bed. I then staggered to the room my Dad was staying in and opened the door.

At first my brain refused to register the image sent from my pupils. I rubbed my eyes thinking it was a side effect of the booze I had consumed earlier.

The curtain in the window was open. It was a full moon. The light was so bright you could have read a newspaper by it. However, now the moonlight was illuminating my naked wife Ann astride my equally naked Father, doing her best cowgirl riding a bronco impression.

I could see his cock going in and out of Ann's pussy as she rose and fell on him. Ann's hands were kneading her breasts as he supported her hips, assisting in the pulling and pushing. Both their eyes were closed and they were moaning.

I had the strangest thought that they had not even turned down the covers, as the bedspread Disney cartoon characters seemed to animate and mock me while Ann and my Father thrust together.

I shook my head violently, then bit the inside of my cheek. The sharp pain in my mouth told me I was awake. I do not know how long I stood frozen in place, but the changing pitch of Ann's moaning snapped me out of my stupor, as I knew that sound signaled the start of her orgasm.

I reached out and yanked Ann off my Father, throwing her to the floor. Dad must have been on the verge also, as his semen spurted all over the main Disney character from Aladdin.

I picked up my sons small, colored Playskool desk and slammed the lightweight plastic furniture onto the form in the bed as my wife scrambled on her hands and knees to the wall.

Slamming the door behind me I strode to the hall closet and pulled down the top shelf, scattering everything, until I found what I was looking for.

The bedroom door opened, and my wife and Dad peeked out. A Lion King sheet they were holding partially hid their nakedness. Both slammed the door closed when I spun around pointing my Grandfather's Korean War era Colt Model M1911A .45 pistol at them.

In two steps I reached the bedroom door, and in one move kicked it open. Ann and my Dad were cowering against the far wall.

"Randal wait!" Ann pleaded.

"Son you don't understand.." my Dad started, his forehead bleeding from the encounter with the Playskool desk.

I racked the slide on the .45 pistol and pointed it at my Dad. I heard a noise and looked down to see him pissing on himself.

"NO! Randal! NO!" screamed Ann.

I whipped the gun in her direction, then in my father's direction, back and forth, my mind a fog. I started to squeeze the trigger, but at the last second jerked the gun upward and a shot fired into the ceiling.

No one moved as the gunshot echo faded, than a small voice stopped me cold.

"Daddy, I can't sleep."

Turning around, I saw my son was standing in the doorway, clutching his teddy bear.

Everything froze in time, but the fog in my mind cleared. I motioned with the gun barrel at my Dad and wife. "Get out." I rasped. "Take the boys, leave the house."

Ann scrambled past me, gathering up my son as she left the room. My Dad was siding around the edge of the wall toward the door.

"Son, I know this ..." he started before I backhanded him, the pistol barrel striking him in the face knocking him out the door.

I sat on the bed and put my head between my knees.

++++

It was very awkward at the police station. Yesterday I was part of the law enforcement fraternity. hile not an officer, I had put myself on the line and many of the 'real' undercover cops had given what I thought were overblown exaggerations of my exploits to help them in 'Operation Great White'.

Also, there was the fact the county lock-up was overcrowded with arrests from the raids. I was dead meat if they put me anywhere near the current holding cells. I was placed in a room normally used to hold low risk juveniles with a bed, and even a TV.

The next morning the sheriff brought me a take out meal, and more bad news.

"Randal I don't know what to say, so I will give it to you straight. It looks bad, you wife has obtained a restraining order against you. Some wet behind the ears ASA, who doesn't understand, filed a bunch of charges already." He rubbed his neck. "The paperwork seems to have been..ah ..misplaced for the time being."

I looked at him, but said nothing.

"Randal, your wife is in my office now." I snorted as he continued. "If I let her in here, you promise to behave? I mean I got to be here, but I will stand over there in the corner and let you two have your say."

I took a deep breath, "I appreciate all you're doing, but there is not much to say. But I guess I do not have a lot of control now over what you're going to do, right?"

The sheriff cracked a smile. "Well, it is my jail."

He walked over and banged on the door twice. We sat in silence for a few minutes until a deputy opened the door and my wife Ann stepped in.

The sheriff stood up offering Ann his chair as he moved to the far corner of the room behind her.

Ann looked a mess as she tentatively sat on the offered chair about a yard from me.

"Randal I do not know what to say..."

"Um..how about 'I have restraining order against you so you, even though you have not seen your sons for 8 months, I can't see them anymore because I want to fuck your old man."

I saw the sheriff's eyes open wide at my statement and Ann pulled a tissue from her purse.

"It was not like that, Randal. Your Dad is in the hospital you know. After the ..event at the house he had chest pains and they called an ambulance."

"I do not give a shit where your incest fuck buddy is at. All I care about is where are my children now?"

"They are at the house. A friend is staying with them."

"Another one of your relatives? How 'Deliverance' of you. Is this some first cousin you are screwing, or an Uncle?"

"She is a friend from work, and not related."

I leaned back in my chair. "I didn't know you swung both ways, but I guess there is a lot I didn't know."

"Randal stop this, it is not helping."

"Oh I am sorry Ann, it my first time dealing with incest, not to mention a cheating wife, and having my children kept from me. I'll need your guidance in this area."

It was not incest. Your Father and I are not blood related. I will get the restraining order dropped, I told the ASA I'll refuse to testify against you about anything. I was scared. You pointed a gun at me."

"My apologies Ann, I was unsure of the rules of etiquette when you come across your wife fucking her father in law. If I misspoke about incest, again my bad. Tell me Ann, does it not being incest make you more, or less, of a cheating slut?"

"Randal you must let me explain, I know you have it in you to forgive me. I swear to God nothing like this will ever happen again."

Now I was starting to get pissed. "Ann, even the Devil believes in God. Why should I want to forgive you or believe you."

"Because we belong together. You can search the far corners of the globe and never find a mate like me."