Bad Cop Worse Cop Worst Cop

As will be pretty obvious to those who've read my other stories, this is a sequel to "Bad Cop, Worse Cop." I've found I like Mike LaFratta, partly because I can feel good about making horrible things happen to him.

Enjoy!

* * *

So here was the problem with Daniella (and I was embarrassed it had taken me this long to figure it out).

In bed she was just about perfect. Young and supple, limber in all the best ways, with the smooth firm skin and shapely body she shared with her sister, she was built ideally for the kind of fucking I liked to give. She had a natural sense of balance, making sure she kept her center of gravity low when I took her from behind; on the other hand, when she was on top, she knew just where to perch so that I didn't get tired.

Some girls never figure that out; they just drive themselves into your intestines from above, leaving you farting uncontrollably as they fuck you. Daniella wasn't like that. She wasn't quite the perfect sexual specimen her sister was, but she was close enough. Way above average. Very deserving of my semen.

The problem with her started once she got out of bed.

There was none of her sister's low, confident voice. She had a nasally, whining overtone when she got stressed, which was often, and frankly that was a chore to listen to. I got enough of that shrill, mopey-tense-female shit from Roberta. She got easily flustered; between the sheets she kept her cool and maintained her poise, but once she got her clothes on it seemed she couldn't make a decision to save her sweet, peachy ass.

This afternoon, the subject was prom dresses.

"I mean, it would be fucking brutal if I ended up in a shitty color just because I didn't give the dye enough time to set. But, like, what if I get all fat and gross over the next month, and can't cram my tits into the dress? Like, I could get it now and have it be the right color, or get it later and hope it fits." She looked at me, her eyes big and rimmed in pink, and it occurred to me she just might be smoking weed again. "I just feel like I'm fucked either way."

Maybe you should be,

I reflected, keeping my mouth shut.

You get much more decisive when you have a dick in your slit.

I cleared my throat. "You're not going to get all fat and gross in just a month," I pointed out, trying not to sound as exasperated as I felt. "Look at you. You're a fucking dime. You'd need to spazz out and do nothing but eat the whole time. No exercise..." I trailed off. She didn't do any exercise as it was, either, other than fucking me. I shook my head. "Just buy the goddamn dress and forget about it."

She fretted. "It's so fucking easy for guys," she spat. I wondered vaguely whether she was starting her period; this was extra moody, even for her. "Just make sure the tie matches, and you're all done." She frowned, though it was a pretty becoming look with her eyelashes down like that, all frustrated; I felt my dick twitch, felt a sudden urge to nibble on that protruding lower lip of hers. Or hell, just present her with my cock and let her suck on it, with the dual benefit of getting a sweet blowjob and simultaneously shutting her up.

I sighed. I'd started fucking her on her sister's referral, and I wished now that I'd listened to the fine print. "I mean, she's a fucking awesome little bitch," Tori had explained, her breath stinking of my cum. "But she's... well, she's not like me." Of course not. Nobody was like the splendid, the incomparable Tori.

Something nagged at me. "Why dye it at all?" I frowned. "Why not just buy a dress that's already the right color?"

She looked at me then with an expression only possible from a high-school girl, righteous and Pope-level correct in her opinions and with no way of understanding why nobody else was capable of understanding the world with her level of sophistication. I swallowed involuntarily; it was a highly, highly fuckable expression. I felt my cock twitch again, more vigorously. Shit. What was it with these Lynne sisters? Only eighteen, and already so effortlessly sexy...

She knew it, too. She stared at me a long time. "If you're mocking me," she said calmly, "I'll stop fucking you. Are you mocking me, Mike?"

Ah yes. This was why I kept tolerating her. That face... Her eyes were smoky-soft under her long lashes, not green like her sister's but with a sharpness to them, a slight lift at the corners, that was unforgettable, especially when she looked up at me with a mouthful of my cock. Her sister's occasional acne, her sister's thin lips, but the rest was all her own, and all gorgeous. I couldn't stop myself from reaching out to stroke her cheek, which wasn't the kind of thing I was known for. "You'll be fine, Dani."

Her lips worked a tad, almost smiling, but she didn't usually let herself do that. Smirks, yes. Smiles, no. It went against her image. "Fuck you," she murmured automatically; it was just something she was always saying, sort of an in-joke by now. So, my penis swelling steadily under the sheet, I gave the expected response.

"When? Right now, or later?" There was lust in my eyes; there had to be. She always knew when I was getting turned on.

"Right now, Officer Mike." Like many girls, she got off on fucking cops. None of them ever liked to admit that, but I'd benefitted from it for years now.

Old Larry had gotten me started on that shit, back when he'd been a sexual legend on the East Adams police force, back before he'd wound up in the chair. "We call them Badge Bunnies, Mikey," he'd told me back when I'd been a rookie, fresh out of the Air Force. "With those kinds of bitches, you could be the hunchback of Notre fucking Dame, and it won't matter. Put a badge and a gun on a guy like that, and the Bunnies will fall over themselves for the privilege of taking your dick in their ass."

And so it had always proved. More often than not, the pussy came from chicks on probation, or hookers (at a cut rate, natch), or junkies. And there was always plenty to be had. But every now and then, if you paid attention and played your cards very carefully, you could end up with pussy of the sort that came from the Lynne sisters, grade-A prime pussy, and every day I wondered what kind of price karma would demand from me for every time I stuck it into either one of them.

Just now, Dani was creeping up my body, her tongue trailing flat and wet over my skin. She was good at this part, the foreplay. She came across as aloof, even shy, when you spoke to her in the halls. But it turned out that initiating sex was the perfect way to get at the twisted, depraved little section of her brain that craved a creative outlet, preferably a dark one. From the first time she fucked me I'd been amazed at her sheer, dark imagination.

Her tongue found its way across my chest, and then she slapped insistently at my hip and started to nudge me over onto my stomach. This was something that required a little pre-planning: I was already semihard, and I didn't need a bent dick. She was breathing through her mouth as I rolled over, sounding like a rooting pig, but neither of us was saying much. Unlike Tori, Dani usually didn't talk until after she had my cock in her hole.

I lay there with my head pillowed by my arms, and her squirmy little body was working like an industrious little ant above me. She gave fierce little licks here and there, adding an occasional tickle, an unpredictable swipe of her nails, sometimes even the warm, sandpaper trail of her stubbled mound rubbing across my back.

And the whole time, not a word.

I sensed she had a plan this time, that she wanted me calm and quiescent, so I relaxed as she made me spread my legs by raking her fingernail across the back of my scrotum. I grunted, then laughed slightly, and for a few moments she retreated back up my spine, along my shoulderblades, her toe at one point trailing gently through the crack of my ass. Not too deeply. For a few moments more she lulled me, the skin of her belly fleeting across my back, and then my eyes shot open. "What the fuck!"

She'd slung her legs across my shoulders, snake-quick, and then she'd put the full mass of her wiggly little body across mine, upside down, and then she'd quite decisively driven her face into my butthole.

I don't know whether I'd ever been rimmed before. I've done a lot of really sick shit with a lot of really twisted bitches, but I think I'd have remembered that.

Well

, I reflected as I gasped back into my pillow, her body a hot and eager weight on top of mine,

I've certainly been rimmed now

. She'd started, and as Old Larry had always told me, once they start it's usually best just to let them finish. "Every bitch is special, Mikey," he'd told me seriously. "Even the dumb ugly ones. Let them be special in their own way."

So I did, even though Dani Lynne was neither dumb nor ugly. Her creeping, questing hands were already coming around underneath my thighs to get leverage for her head, which was twisting and rolling against my ass. I felt her sharp little nose burrowing against my crotch, and then there was a sudden gust of her hot breath straight into my anus, followed before I could even recover by her nimble tongue.

I felt a weird, gluey dampness slithering slowly along my neck, and I realized it was her cunt, drooling all over the back of my head. Shit, the girl was soaked. And so was I, her tongue lashing along my asscrack, digging into my hole. It felt weird, of course, but also oddly, vaguely refreshing; you'll never get me to admit it, but it reminded me of the kind of feeling you get from a really good massage, or from a chiropractor. And, unexpectedly, I felt strangely touched and emotional: this was the most intimate anyone had ever been with me, by far.

And, of course, my dick went titanium-stiff from the sheer, wicked nastiness of the whole thing.

She sounded hungry back there, growling softly as she licked, and now she'd gotten her hands back up top, her fingers prying my cheeks apart, and I bent my knees instinctively to hike her into the air and give her better access. There was also profound relief there, my achy cock finally getting room to bob and pulse beneath me.

Jesus. The girl was fucking insatiable, scarfing away at my ass like it was a melting ice cream cone. I began to wonder, vaguely, just how long the kinky little whore planned to keep this up. She was straddling the back of my head, her snatch all greasy and hot, the acrid and wonderful smell of pussy all around me. Pretty soon, I reflected somewhere in the rapidly shrinking part of my brain that still thought rationally, I'd have to put a stop to this: it was all just too nasty, too overwhelming, the sounds and smells too exciting, and sooner rather than later I'd have to buck her off, lay her down, and fuck her without mercy.

Sooner rather than later, indeed, for it was around then that her tongue jabbed once more into my shitter at the same time her creeping hand found my testicles; her fingers latched on like she was grabbing for the strap on the ceiling of a subway car, and I suddenly felt it: the urgent, driving need to inseminate her. I collapsed sideways, Daniella falling off me with a breathless squawk, and the room air was suddenly cool and soothing where her saliva sluiced through my buttcrack.

I rose up from the mattress like Poseidon coming out of the sea, all fierce and harsh and unstoppable, and just as she was scrambling onto her back I was scrambling onto her front. She knew what I was after, and with admirable presence of mind she got her legs spread and her hips angled just in time to open herself up for me. This was good for her, since I wasn't stopping for shit; the way my dick was feeling at that point, I'd have been able to put a hole through a brick wall.

I was balls-deep before I even had time to get my arms set to brace myself, so I crashed into her ribcage with a very undignified grunt. She gasped explosively alongside my head as the impact drove the wind out of her, and of course I gave her no time at all to recover before I was fucking her fast and hard like a caffeinated rabbit with a willing hole to thrust into, and there she was just flopping around underneath me with a glazed expression on her face and the shine of her ass-flavored spit all over her chin.

I don't know what came over me. I've been savage with women before, but not like this. I was stabbing her deep, deeper than I ever had before, her sturdy body sliding across the sheets, taking every thrust as her mouth opened wide. Daniella was a loud one, our fucks always punctuated by her sexy little squeaks and pants, but this time she flat-out screeched, hollering in my ear, her arms slowly coming under control and pasting themselves to my flexing asscheeks, her strong legs waving like fans at a soccer game. For my part I had my forearms up under her armpits, clasping onto her shoulders with punishing force.

"Aw yeah, you piece of shit!" she screamed. I started to worry about the neighbors but I knew this couldn't last long. "Fuck me!" Overcome, I rammed my lips against hers and sucked at her tongue, not even thinking about where it had been, the musty flavor of her mouth tickling at some primal part of my brain; Jesus. This was going to be a spurt for the ages, strong and powerful; she'd be leaking for days. "Give it to me, Mike!"

"Take it." I wasn't screaming and yelling, just snarling low and venomous, my spit dripping into her ear, and I felt her shudder as she came sharp and hard around my cock. "Bitch, take it," and I gave it to her, my fingers falling down to grip cruelly at her hips; suddenly I heard nothing, felt weightless, saw white tingling flashes of hot light, both of us grimacing with the coiled tension in my dick, the twitchy pulses flexing outward against the slick hot walls of her vagina, and I was spewing more cum into that sweet hole of hers than I'd been able to generate since I'd recovered from that quack doctor's second attempt at snipping my tubes.

The froth started at once, and loudly, for my dick was still moving on autopilot in and out of her slash, our moving bodies stirring my semen into a lewd milkshake. "Goddamn!" Her voice was exultant, even triumphant, her arm locked tightly around my neck. "I figured that would work. You fucked me like a caveman, baby." She kissed at my face, her breath hot and stinky as I panted into her ear and tried to get control of my hips. "You've never made me cum that hard."

"Likewise," I groaned. "Shit. When did you become such a slut?"

"I don't know, baby, I don't know." Her smooth, strong legs wrapped loosely around my hips as she rocked with me, slowing down, her mouth wide open in a literal shit-eating grin. "I don't know what came over me," she marveled, and then she thought of the punchline. "But I know what came in me!"

I laughed, weakly, and relaxed against her. "You're a filthy fucking whore," I told her, and I meant it as a compliment. She knew. "You ever do that before?"

"Not lately," she replied cryptically, and then she was slapping at my ass. "Get off me. I'm going numb." I obeyed, flopping back onto my clammy pillow.

After, once I'd maneuvered her into the wet spot, I lay there sweaty and tingling while she ran her hands over my dick. She liked doing that after sex, working her fingers through the crusty patches we'd left on my pubes. "You should shave," she observed suddenly. "You'd look hot, all smooth and hairless."

"Like you?" Her muscles moved liquidly, seductively against my palm.

"Like me. Think of how much more time I'd have to fuck you if I wasn't spending hours pulling your pubes out my teeth." She had a pattern she liked to use, across my groin, then down along the inside of my left thigh, back up to my balls, out across my flaccid dick, down into my sweaty, funked-out crotch, back up my inner right thigh, and then back to the beginning again, over and over, hypnotically. She did the same thing with her tongue sometimes, which I found pleasantly disgusting. "What's the matter?"

She could tell, goddammit. I sometimes made the mistake of forgetting that eighteen-year-olds weren't dumb. "Nothing," I sighed anyway, lying. "Just, you know, remembering." Pining, more like.

Up and down, back and forth. "You're pining." Goddamn. How did women do that shit?

I looked out the window and decided I shouldn't tell her, even though I knew I would. I liked being a little bit cruel, even with a delicate flower like Dani; it was a hard habit to break. "I miss your sister."

"Eww. Nasty." Her fingers didn't stop, though, pushing the increasingly gummy residue around and around my skin. "I know you fucked her, Mike, but I don't have to like thinking about it." I held my tongue, but felt a bit bad about the past tense; Tori and I were still hooking up about three or four times a year. Best if I didn't mention that; Daniella seemed to have issues thinking about her sister getting banged. She hadn't reacted well a few weeks ago, when I'd suggested we do a threesome.

It had been Tori's idea, but I hadn't mentioned that either.

"Whatever." I reached down, way down, and squeezed the girl's naked ass. "Thanks for coming over, but you're not here to listen to me whine. You're here to take my cum, like the good little slut you are."

"Hmm. I already did." She broke her pattern, just for a moment, to squeeze my cockhead. "I did a pretty good job, though."

"You did," I allowed. "But you should probably go home now, Dani. It's almost four, and I've got a detail tonight." Fucking traffic patrol.

"Bullshit." She did not move. "You're inviting some other bitch over, aren't you?"

"Please." The answer was no, but it never worked to tell her. She was a jealous little thing. I smiled at the ceiling. "I'm going over to her place, actually."

"Hey!" She smacked my testicles lightly. "Quit joking."

I wasn't, but it didn't hurt that she thought so. That was another way she was different than Tori: Dani minded that I fucked around, though in fairness I did a lot less of that these days. Tori hadn't ever cared what I did with other bitches, but then Tori was special.

She knew it, too.

"Seriously, chop chop. I've got to take a shower. I can't show up in my uniform smelling like you."

She giggled, but stirred and started to move away. "I thought you like the way I smell," she flirted, and then she was standing naked at the side of the bed, and holy shit. For a second there, I thought about blowing off the detail and nailing her again. She was really, really an outstanding specimen, looking the hottest she'd probably ever look.

If her sister's body was a powerful, sturdy mass of muscle with a model's tits and ass grafted on, Daniella's was similar but with an extra bit of softness that told the world working out was not any kind of option for her. I'd seen her schedule in the school computer: she'd never taken anything but basic PE, and she'd scored Cs every time. Her sister was a fiendish athlete, a cheerleader and dancer and volleyball player; Dani was a reader. Who also liked to play video games. And paint; she'd won art awards for years.

But my God, the sheer voluptuousness of her! She had the sort of body that you felt you could just bury yourself into, the kind that made you want to bend her over and breed with her. Or at least try; I had, maybe twenty times already. Fifteen, definitely, just since January. Thank God for the repeat vasectomy. She'd look like Jabba the Hutt by age thirty, but until then she'd be able to snap her fingers and have any dick she wanted.

World-class genes, the Lynne sisters. Truly stupendous. "What's your mom look like, Daniella?"

"Eww," she said again, wrinkling her nose. She pawed at herself, putting her fingers into her twat and then looking critically at them. "She's fat. Don't go getting any ideas." She reached down to wipe her hand on my sheets. "You got a cork? I'm going to ruin my underwear." She had red marks where I'd grabbed her shoulders and her thighs. She bent at the waist, quickly, to grab her clothes. Her tits bobbed youthfully as she came back up, leaving my throat dry. Fuck. I'd stuck my dick into women of all ages, but there was a reason I kept coming back to college coeds and high-school seniors.