The Mystery at Faldor Hotel

As Bess crossed the road with the taste of Junior's seed in her mouth, she couldn't believe what she'd just done and her mind was awhirl with trembling shame and elation. In the meantime, her legs acted on autopilot. She still had to look into Susan Quinn's disappearance, and she supposed the Sherriff was the next logical person to speak to, the meeting, in fact, overdue. Of course, since Carmody was the de facto mayor of Cinder Bay, it was just as logical to assume that the town's lawman would also be following the hotel's privacy policy out of sheer political and vocational necessity.

An aging white

Caprice

sedan sat in the dirt parking area between the road and the Sherriff's office, a magnetic blue and gold star with

Cinder Bay Sherriff

stuck to the door. There was no light bar affixed to the roof, only a tall CB radio antenna on the trunk lid. With a smirk, Bess couldn't help but wonder at what she'd find inside as she mounted the front steps of the converted private residence. The inside door was open, so she went on through the wooden screen door just as she would any public building, though still with the feeling of invading somebody's privacy.

Inside the station, she found herself in a somewhat dingy living room. A couch with a magazine laden coffee table ran along the wall to her right, two chairs with a round table between them in front of the picture window. To her left, a hallway ran the remaining length of the house, but the drywall between the living room and the first bedroom had been completely removed, the bare two by four frame covered with heavy chain link wire. Inside the makeshift jail cell were two bunk beds, the top bunks each occupied by a man lying on his back, head propped by pillows and reading a magazine. In the back wall of the reception area/living room was an arched doorway that led to a kitchen where, somewhere inside, Tammy Wynette warbled from a tinny sounding radio, advising any woman who cared to listen to 'stand by your man'.

To the left of the kitchen door was a fair sized, beat up looking, wooden desk, behind which sat a tall, stocky man in his late forties with graying hair He was reclining in a cheap office chair with his feet up on his desk, also reading a magazine. On the desk was a Sherriff's hat and a gun belt, its holstered weapon pointed at the cell as though covering the two prisoners for its owner. Upon Bess's entry, he looked up, did a double take and then sat up in his chair while removing his feet from the desktop with a surprised smile.

Tossing the magazine down on the desk, he asked in a strong voice, "Help you, Miss Marvin?"

Taken aback that he knew her name, Bess's first words stalled in her throat as she regarded him. He smiled, glancing at her chest as he guessed her thoughts and explained.

"It's a small town; word gets around. I'm Sherriff Durant."

He leaned forward, offering his large hand over his desk. Managing a smile, Bess walked across the scuffed hardwood floor, offered hers and found a man with a firm grip.

"Nice to meet you," she greeted.

With another glance at her chest, he replied, "Pleasure's all mine. What can I do for you?"

"Well, as you undoubtedly know, my friends and I arrived in town two days ago to join another friend of ours who's been here in town on vacation. The problem is that we can't find her."

"She staying at the Faldor?"

"Yes. Well, at least she was. We don't know if she still is because hotel management has a guest privacy policy and won't tell us if she's even still registered there.

Durant nodded as though this didn't surprise him, then asked, "What's your friend's name?"

"Susan Quinn"

"Oh, yeah, I remember her. Good lookin' woman."

"Have you seen her lately?"

"Not since Sunday."

Bess's mind leapt on this possible new lead, and she was about to ask for particulars when the magazine he'd been reading caught her attention. It was a nudie magazine, the cover sporting a woman of around thirty who was wearing nothing but a shy smile. She was covering her large breasts with one hand and forearm while covering her vagina with her other hand.

"Uhhh..." she dithered.

"Nice tits, huh?" Durant asked, picking up the magazine and passing it to her. "Check out the centerfold."

Completely derailed, Bess could only stare, a shocked, open mouthed smile spreading across her face. Yet, she found herself leafing through the magazine, looking for the centerfold but getting distracted by a picture of a young woman with a hard penis in her mouth. Turning the page, she saw the same woman with her eyes closed, mouth open while a shot of semen was caught midair by the camera, on the way to her face which was already running with the stuff.

"Oh! ... oh my!"

"What?" Durant asked, his eyes on her hips.

"N-nothing, I just-"

She flushed as he took the magazine from her hands, turned it around and saw what had taken her attention.

"Oh, yeah. Nice shot. Heh. You like that, huh?"

"I... He squirted his

stuff

on her

face

!"

"Yeah. Haven't you ever let a man cum all over that pretty face o' yours?"

Bess was shocked anew. That an officer of the law would be speaking to people in such a way, especially a tourist, was completely unheard of, though part of her wasn't surprised. This was Cinder Bay, after all, and such things that wouldn't be acceptable elsewhere were perfectly alright here. Nonetheless, she only shook her head, the smile on her face much the same as that of the woman on the magazine's cover.

"Ever suck a cock?"

Bess dumbly nodded, feeling herself becoming flushed and freshly aroused.

"Yeah... you look like a girl who likes to suck cock. First thing I thought when I saw you was, "Frank, that there's the prettiest little cocksucker you ever seen."

"Sherriff!"

The not unattractive older man laughed heartily at her reaction, noting she was still smiling. As for Bess, being referred to as a 'cocksucker' turned her on all the more, but her surprise in hearing this from Durant helped to at least make an attempt at outrage.

"She sure liked it when me and Ray had our hands all over her in the boutique the other day," a voice from the cell informed.

Looking to the left, she indeed recognized one of the men who'd fondled her that day in

Annabelle's Boutique

. Like the other man, he was half covered by a blanket, his magazine now laid on his chest as he stared at her with a hungry grin.

She didn't quite know how to counter this piece of now public information so, forcing some composure and making a better attempt at propriety even while her embarrassed flush deepened, she addressed the Sherriff with only the barest smile, suggesting, "Uh, perhaps we should get back to the subject at hand, that being Susan Quinn. You say you saw her on Sunday?"

"Yeah, Sunday morning in church," Durant clarified.

"Show us your tits," Brent instructed, now rubbing himself.

"Yeah, show us your tits," the other agreed, adding, "Show us everything."

Flushing again, Bess ignored this, asking the Sherriff, "Do you know if she's still in town?"

"No idea," he replied with a shrug.

"I wonder if you could look into the matter?" Bess asked. "My friends and I are becoming quite aroused-

I mean concerned!

"

" ... Heh, sure, I'll ask around. I'd do almost anything for a horny little cocksucker like you. But I can't imagine anything happening to Ms. Quinn unless she got lost in the woods, or wandered into the mine and got lost, or fell down a shaft. It's not like there's a crime rate in this town; these two jokers are only here on a drunk-and-disorderly. Actually," Durant thoughtfully added, "you might wanna talk to Skeeter about this."

Lifting himself out of his chair, Bess couldn't help but notice that the man in uniform also had a sizable bulge in his pants. The thought that she was in the presence of a male erection was suddenly exciting and, as she had with Junior, she found herself wondering how big his penis was as she followed him to the cell.

"Skeeter's wife is the town gossip," he explained over his shoulder. If anyone knows anything, she probably does."

"And," the thin, hawkish man added, "the only time she ever shuts up about what she knows is when there's a cock in her mouth."

Durant laughed at this as he unlocked the plank door, Brent also laughing at Skeeter's seeming put-down of his own wife. The Sherriff held the solid, home fashioned door wide for Bess, who walked in without concern on the assumption that he would follow. Even when she heard the door close and latch behind her, she didn't turn and only realized that the officer hadn't come in with her when she heard his footsteps retreating across the reception area/living room floor.

"Oh, I-!"

"As for me," Sherriff Durant announced, as he picked his gun belt from the desk, "I'm late for dinner, and I got my own woman's mouth to worry about. I'll be back in about an hour, so you'll have plenty of time to pump Skeeter for information."

Bess quickly moved to the door of the cell as the Sherriff fastened his gun belt and reached for his hat. The inside had no handle and, when she pushed at it, it remained closed. In rising panic, she moved to the chain linked two by four studs beside the door.

"B-but Sherriff! What about

me!?

You can't leave me in here with- with

them!

"

"Well, I can't very well leave you alone in the station while I'm gone either, now can I?" he retorted with a chuckle, donning his hat as he moved for the door.

"But, you can't just leave me

here!

" Bess insisted.

"See ya in about an hour, cocksucker," he happily contradicted, opening the screen door while grasping the knob of the inner one in his other hand.

"Sherriff!"

But Durant only slammed the inner door closed, the outer screen door banging shut afterwards, the sound of his boot heels thumping across the front porch and down the steps his last comment on the matter. Bess could only stand there with her fingers clutching the chain link, mouth open in utter disbelief that she'd been locked inside of a jail cell with two men!

"Hey, cocksucker... c'mon over here."

Slowly turning around required no less than an Olympian act of will. In one of the top bunks, the man she recognized from the boutique, Brent, was just sitting up. The brown blanket that had been covering his lower half fell away to reveal the fact that he wasn't wearing any pants or underwear. Her jaw sagged again in recognition of his hardened, fat member with the bulbous head. While not as long as Junior's, its measurement was still respectable and its girth was almost as thick. It was shiny and slick as though sweaty and, while staring at it, Bess licked her lips without realizing.

Then Skeeter, the man she was supposed to interview, also sat up. He pulled his blanket away, showing that he too was naked below his black T-shirt. He hung his legs over the side as he spread his thighs, grinning as his penis, longer than Brent's, but not quite as fat, stood straight up, his neatly circumcised head rubbing his hairy belly. Pre-cum leaked from its tip and dribbled down its length to his swollen balls. Like the man who'd accompanied Brent the day in the boutique, Skeeter's member had a slight curve to it and a low moan escaped Bess's throat as she stared.

Like Sheriff Durant, both prisoners had been reading dirty magazines and their new cellmate realized that these two men weren't just physically aroused. Who knew how long they'd been in here looking at images of naked girls and women, rubbing themselves and getting so psychologically revved up as to make nothing more than sexually ravenous, caged animals out of them. Perhaps the worst part was that the eagerness she'd shown with Junior was returning and the idea of sucking their swollen members wasn't completely objectionable to her. In fact, the only part of the situation that really bothered her was how she was trapped in that cell with them and that they could and probably

would

do whatever else they wanted with her whether she wanted it or not. Unless she played her cards right, she'd never get her young body out of that cell without it first becoming the total play toy of the two sweaty, leering men.

"Are... are those nudie magazines you're reading?" she asked in an effort to stall for time, to use up as much of the hour she had to serve with these two as she could before they had time to compromise her body too badly.

"Yeah," Brent laughed. "You like porn?"

Shrugging, she tried to put on some air of calm as she replied, "W-well, I never really, um..."

"C'mere and take a look," he invited.

After a moment's hesitation, Bess left the pseudo safety of the wall frame approached the narrow isle between the two bunks in her white, open toed high heels. The truth was that she really was curious, at least turned on enough to be so. She stopped between the two bunks and Brent laid the magazine out on his lap for her to see. He sat just high enough in the top bunk that it and his hardened phallus was just below eye level and she had trouble deciding which to fix her eyes upon.

He inclined his head down in a silent gesture for her to come closer and she did, feeling a distinct tingling from the nape of her neck and travelling town to her bottom. She could also feel her vagina heating and moistening as she stopped with his spread knees almost at the outsides of her breasts.

Looking down, she saw that the two page picture spread featured teenage girls, one blonde and one brunette, dressed in Girl Guide uniforms. They were standing in an open doorway, smiling, each one offering up a box of cookies to an older man who stood just inside. The title, written in the upper left hand corner in bold red letters was,

'Sweets for sale'.

Bess found herself curious about what would happen to the two girls, suddenly and shamefully excited about the possibilities in such a magazine, and found her trembling fingers turning the page as though they had a mind of their own. The top of the paper leaf brushed Brent's penis and, to her unexpected delight, he gasped a little at the incidental contact and a fresh dribbling of precum escaped from his tip.

The next page showed the three of them sitting on a couch, the man holding a handful of bills out to the blonde Guide. His hard penis was sticking out of his open fly while the girl he was holding the cash out to grinned, wide eyed with her hand reaching for the bills. The brunette Guide was aghast, her hand covering her mouth. Beneath this shot and on the same page, the Guide who'd taken the bills and now had them sticking half out of her breast pocket was gripping the man's penis while her friend watched, a cookie with a bite out of it in her hand. Her expression, while still shocked, now also held interest. On the opposite page and at the top was a shot of the blonde leaning over with her face in the man's lap, licking his length while he pulled the front of the brunette's uniform open to reveal a respectable sized pair of boobs in a pink bra. Below this, both guides were happily sharing the now naked man's meat as his hand groped under the blonde's skirt. The brunette's boobs were out and she smiled while licking his shaft.

"Move my cock," Brent directed when she went to turn the page, adding in a sly tone, "I don't want a paper cut."

Bess would have giggled at that were it not for the prospect of touching his slick, erect manhood. The grin on her face, however, said it all in any case as she gingerly touched her fingers to the front of his member just under the head, producing another gasp from him. She liked this reaction, that she had been its cause and, without much thought, closed her hand around him as she turned the page.

"Huu-uuh..." he moaned.

A small spray of precum squirted from his head, shooting straight up to fall back down, landing on the magazine page. A smaller amount oozed out and ran down his length to her hand as she squeezed gently, still smiling with building excitement.

While the brunette Guide was left to entertain the man's cock in a solo effort, the blonde was sitting on the back of the couch, legs spread. Her skirt was hiked and she was without panties, very obviously enjoying the man's finger probing her love hole. In the next shot, he was licking her sex while she held his head to it, her friend now only wearing black panties and bra while she stuffed her face with his meat.

The opposite page showed the brunette stuffing her vagina with his cock instead, taking her turn at licking her fellow Guide's snatch while the man sucked the blonde's nipples.

Brent moaned again and she realized that she'd been slowly pumping his meat, grinding her thighs together while her own nipples fought the bodice of her dress. They were so sensitive and desperately needed to be sucked on like the man in the porn magazine was doing to the rather naughty Girl Guide.

"Hey, it's my turn, cocksucker."

Bess flushed at the reference, but didn't say anything, only smiled as she turned around, still gripping Brent's meat. Skeeter wasn't holding a magazine, sitting with his legs spread as before, but now on the very edge of his bunk. She stared at his organ as it rested against his T-shirt, suddenly remembering that she was supposed to be practicing time management with these two while pumping Skeeter for any information he had via his gossiping wife. She giggled with forbidden excitement at the thought of her little game.

"You're supposed to be telling me what you know about Susan Quinn," she reminded, still staring at his meat as though she were talking directly to it.

"C'mon over here and I will," he invited.

Letting go of Brent's meat, he moaned with regret that almost made her giggle again, his sticky essence on her hand making her feel as naughty as the two Girl Guides in his nudie magazine as she approached the grinning Skeeter. When she was close enough, he reached out with his other hand, fingers hooking her dress between two buttons just beneath her braless breasts to reel her in. With a deft maneuver, he aimed his cockhead between those two buttons and suddenly invaded her dress with his long, straining hard staff. It took her by surprise and she let out a small cry as she looked down to see his shiny helmet suddenly appear from between her full breasts, unimaginably protruding from the low necked bodice of her dress.

"

Oooh!

Why, your big cock is in my dress!"

His answer was a low, grunting moan as he held her close, fucking her breasts as she watched with utter surprise. Like Brent's had, a shot of precum, thick and sticky, leapt from the small slit in his tip and hit her upper lip. She flinched, but only watched while his head withdrew down between her breasts, disappearing in her ample cleavage. She felt another warm shot down there just before his head reappeared, shiny and slippery wet.

"Uhh! Ohhh! Skeeter...!"

Bess looked up at him, lips parted in awe as his man juice dribbled into her mouth. It tasted so surprisingly good and she loved the expression on his face, how he was using her for his own pleasure while at the same time so dependent on her for it.

"Oh, fuck!" he gasped. "Uhh, ffff-fuuuck!"

More tingles erupted from under her ears, running down her shoulders and sides to her ever moistening sex. The slippery contact of his organ felt so good in her cleavage, the visual aspect of it turning her on even further as he used her body in such an exciting way as she never would have imagined.

Another sticky gob of his lube was released, this one spurting straight up, but falling down on her chest. It slowly ran towards her cleavage as he pumped that deep valley until his head touched it, adding the runny stuff to the ample lube between her breasts. She was looking down, watching this as another shot up and grazed her forehead before it was caught and trapped by her hair. By the time she noticed herself helping Skeeter's efforts by slowly bobbing her body up and down, it was trickling from her scalp, down her forehead and the bridge of her nose. His balls seemed swollen with the stuff and another squirt soiled her neck before she remembered that she was supposed to be interviewing this man.