The Scene of the Crime

Disclaimer: This is a sexual fantasy about acts that would be horribly immoral in real life.

***

There was police tape across the front of my mattress shop when I walked in on Wednesday morning. A police officer flagged me down as I approached. Her blonde hair was starting to poke out of the ponytail she'd put it in, and her face was lined with concern.

"Are you the manager?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied. "What's happened?"

"There's been a crime," she said. "I can't address the details while the investigation is ongoing. But if you could supply the password for your security camera system, it would help us greatly."

My heart had skipped. "Of course," I said. "Is everyone alright? Georgia, the girl who worked last night? Is she okay?"

Georgia Tibbs was the youngest of the girls who worked for me. She was friendly, if a bit sheltered thanks to her overly religious parents. There was extra money to be had in closing up the shop for the night, and she'd only been doing it for a couple of weeks. I was her manager but I often felt like she saw me as more of a bit sister, doling out chores and rewards.

To be honest, I did not see her as a little sister. She was a bit shorter than me, with a dark complexion, wavy reddish-brown hair, dark brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles. She was fairly skinny, but she had cute little breasts and one of the most attractive asses I'd seen in my extensive study of human asses. If she had ever expressed an interest in girls, I would have been all over her, no matter what her parents or MattressSoft said. But she hadn't, so I'd let her be.

The police officer hesitated, and I could see in her expression that everyone was not alright. "Miss Tibbs is not injured," she said. "I can't say more than that. But I'll need the password, and I'll need to ask you not to open the store today."

I nodded. I had a hundred questions, but I could see that I wasn't going to get many answers from the police at the moment. If I wanted the truth - and I did - I'd have to review the security camera footage myself once the police had gone home for the day. "Of course."

--

It was ten p.m. when I arrived at the store. Our half of the strip mall was mostly dark, with only a few cars in the parking lot. I parked to the side, away from my building, and walked carefully along the back, keeping my eye out for any observers.

I stepped inside through the back door. The shop was largely intact - there were no signs of fighting. There was police tape at the front, and they'd taken a mattress off of one of the display beds, but apart from that everything looked normal.

I sat down at my desk at the back of the store and pulled up the security logs. I started at seven, when Georgia's coworker finished and left her to close the store by herself. The resolution on the cameras was excellent, and I reminded myself that I wasn't there to ogle Georgia's butt.

I began skipping ahead. The store was dead; most of the times I skipped to had no customers at all. At nine-thirty she locked the door and started closing up. I frowned. How could anyone assault anyone else through a locked door?

I watched Georgia sit at her desk, facing the one where I sat, and begin to settle the paperwork. Then I gasped.

A figure had stepped out of the employees-only stock area and begun walking toward Georgia. The door was behind her, so she kept typing, oblivious, as the man walked up within a dozen paces of her.

He was tall and wiry, with blond hair and a short beard. He wore unlabeled sweatpants and a blank t-shirt. Georgia had turned off most of the lights, so he stood in partial shadow, eyes glinting as he watched Georgia work.

My heart was pounding, and my thoughts raced. Did this man know Georgia? How did he get in? Why was he watching her like this, and was he going to force himself on her?

I should have turned the recording off then. If I was right, then I'd already seen more than I had any right to see. Perhaps I was shocked into inaction. Perhaps.

She'd left her phone on one of the display beds nearby. He picked it up and powered it down before sliding it underneath the bedframe and resuming his vigil. He watched her, saying and doing nothing, for perhaps another minute before he acted. Calmly, he flicked the lights on in the back half of the store.

Georgia screamed, more out of surprise than fear, then leapt up when she turned and saw him. Her back was to me, and although I shouldn't have, I noticed once again how the black fabric of the MattressSoft uniform clung to her butt.

"Sir," she managed after a moment, "the store is closed. I apologize; I thought I'd locked up."

"You did," he said. "I'm not a customer; I'm here to help you."

Georgia looked confused, glancing around for her phone and looking up at the clock..

"What do you want to help with?" she asked.

"First, with a uniform check," he said. "I want to make sure you're not too straight-laced."

Georgia hesitated. Her phone was nowhere to be found, of course, and she couldn't run and use the office phone at the same time. Besides, he was standing between her and the only exit.

"What do you mean?" she asked, a bit of apprehension creeping into her voice.

"You start by turning around," the man said, "so I can make sure that your uniform fits you everywhere."

I knew, with absolute certainty, that I ought to stop the video right there. I could see where this was going, even if Georgia was still confused. The man wasn't going to stop with just a look.

I didn't move, though. Perhaps, I thought, I was frozen into inaction just like Georgia. But I could feel my heart racing, feel myself starting to get excited. Perhaps I was eager to see what I had no right to see, just like the man.

Georgia was nervous, but she was still in the playing-along mode. She took a deep breath, then began to slowly turn around. I could see the apprehension on her face as she went. He admired her as she did, and so did I. Our uniform shirts have always been on the tighter side, and her shirt accentuated her petite breasts beautifully. Every line of her body was gorgeous, and I didn't normally get the chance to watch her twirl.

"Alright," she said. I could hear her trying to gather her courage, although she still didn't meet his eyes. "Now I'm going to have to ask you to step outside."

"I'm going to have to say no," he replied.

"Sir," she began.

"The uniform fits well, but I need to know if it's easy to get off."

I reached for the pause button with a gasp, but my finger hovered over it. I knew it was wrong to watch, but God I wanted to see if she'd strip.

Georgia took a step back, bumping into her desk. "You can't," she managed to say.

"I can," he replied. "I just shouldn't."

"But..." Georgia hesitated. "I'm not supposed to let boys see me like that."

"It's just one boy," he noted with a wry smile. "Just go ahead."

Her shirt came off first. She crossed her arms down and pulled it free, then set it awkwardly on my desk. I glanced up, involuntarily; the shirt was gone now but I could see where it had pushed my papers aside. I looked back at Georgia, standing nervously in her black cotton bra. I couldn't tell if she was wondering what God thought of her disrobing or whether she was wondering if the man thought she was pretty.

She moved again, though, and I stopped wondering about anything else. She lowered her slender arms and began sliding her pants down. Her legs were long, her hips were gorgeous clad in nothing but a pair of black panties, and her ass was just as flawless as I'd imagined. Her skin was smooth, almost luminous. The security cameras were higher resolution than they had any right to be.

She kicked her shoes off and stood, still facing away from him. I could see in her face that she hoped this would be enough. Why, I wondered? Couldn't she tell that anyone who would go this far would go further? Did she think he'd stop if she looked away?

"The underwear too," he said.

"Please," she whispered. "I...I'm not supposed to let a man see that unless we're married."

"Oh, Georgia," he said. I briefly wondered how he'd learned her name. "You're too pretty to keep your body a secret like that. So let me see."

I could still see her face, and while her expression was still nervous, she gave a tiny smile at being called pretty. On one hand, it broke my heart a bit to think of her being flattered by him.

On the other hand, she was taking off her bra, and I was unable to do anything for a moment. She reached behind her to unhook the clasp, then lifted it off, setting the bra with her other clothes on my desk. Her breasts were small, but perfectly proportioned both for her and in a more general sense. I wanted to cup them in my hands and kiss them.

She crossed her arms across her chest for a moment, then lowered her hands to her hips. Slowly, reluctantly, she pushed her panties down past her ass and let them fall to the floor.

She was still facing away from him, giving him a full view of her ass. Between three of the security cameras, I could see everything. One faced her; I could see her blushing and biting her lip. I could also see her untrimmed bush and the way her hips and her smooth belly curved ever so gently toward her pussy. A second camera looked towards my desk, showing me her slender back, the gap between her legs, and her lowered head. The third just caught the edge of her in profile, with the luscious curve of her ass at the right side of the frame.

I knew it was all wrong. The man shouldn't've been looking at Georgia like this. I shouldn't've been looking at Georgia like this either. And neither one of us should have kept going.

But a part of me didn't care. Georgia was so pretty, and I could understand why the man wanted her like this, helpless before him. I was wet with anticipation for things I knew I shouldn't see, and just like the man, I let desire take the wheel and shove morality into the back seat. As Georgia stood there naked, I stood up for just long enough to drop my pants and panties down to my ankles. Then, sitting back down on my cushion, I started rubbing myself as I watched.

The man shifted a bit, getting a couple of different angles but staying behind Georgia. The view was lovely, but he wanted to enjoy more.

"You did get the uniform off pretty nicely," he said.

Georgia didn't say anything. She'd moved one delicate hand to cover her pussy, even though she was facing away. It did very little to tamp down my desire.

"But I want to know if you get off pretty nicely too," he added.

"No!" she gasped, turning to face in his direction. "I'm not supposed to touch a man like that!"

"You aren't," he replied matter-of-factly. "I'm touching you like that. It's not the same thing. Besides, it's not your fault if I'm making you do it."

She hesitated. Then, either because her repressed desire was surfacing or because the thought she had no choice, she walked closer. He pointed to a spot in front of the closest display bed, and she stood there, facing away, still covering her pussy with one hand and her breasts with the other.

He stalked up to her and set his hands on her sides, just above her hips. She stiffened. So did he, I noticed, although Georgia didn't see it.

He began caressing her, starting with her sides and then moving to her belly. He pressed one hip against her, and she gasped, but she didn't look. I don't know what she would have done if she'd seen his cock starting to tent his pants, but she stayed oblivious.

His hands began to wander. One strayed up, running along the arm that covered her boobs. It settled on her hand, covering it and spilling over onto her gorgeous right breast.

His right hand strayed southwards, tracing the top of Georgia's bush. She squirmed a bit, trying to shift away, but he held her close with one hand. With the other, he pushed past her defenses. He rubbed her inner thighs at first, his hand traveling up and down each leg. Then, after a moment, his hand moved up to her pussy.

She made a startled sound, somewhere between a gasp and a moan, as he slid his finger along her lips. I moaned, too, but I could still hear the soft squishing of her pussy as he fingered it. She must be dripping wet, I realized. Even if she didn't want to give in to the temptations of the flesh, her body was eager for it.

"Oh, you are all wet," he whispered. She bit her lip. He couldn't see her expression, but I could see that she was already trying not to show her excitement. He shifted his hand, presumably sliding a finger or two inside, and she grabbed uselessly at his hand.

"Not like that," she gasped. "I'm not supposed to..."

"I want to see what gets you off," he interjected, gently but firmly. He adjusted his hand, continuing to thrust two fingers into her, and she squirmed.

Watching her try in vain not to show her pleasure was one of the hottest things I've ever seen. She squeezed her eyes closed. She bit her lip, and when that didn't work she gritted her teeth. I could see her warring to keep her expression under control, her mind wanting her to stay stoic and her pussy insisting that the situation required expressiveness. She mostly kept herself silent, but every now and then a sound would escape - a squeak of repressed pleasure, a moan that she couldn't quite keep to herself - and I would moan along with every one.

I had spread my legs. I gripped the edge of the desk with one hand and pleasured myself with the other. It was horribly wrong to watch Georgia get violated like this, and I knew I'd feel guilty later. But the fact that it was wrong only made it more exciting. In my head, my desire had the wheel, and was talking dirty to morality in the backseat and making her blush. I couldn't stop.

"Is this good for you?" the man asked.

Georgia shook her head defiantly, her eyes still scrunched shut. There was no way in hell he was fooled, I thought. Her pleasure was obvious. But she wanted to deny him the pleasure of knowing it.

He smiled and took a step back, releasing her. "I guess we'll try something else, then."

If she'd turned around and looked, right then, she might have escaped. He took his shirt off first, and if she'd seen him doing that, she might have been able to take off running and reach the door. But she kept facing away for another second or two. By the time she turned around, he was naked, his lustful expression and his hard cock both pointed at her.

She squealed in shock and tried to back up. The only thing behind her was a display bed, and she scrambled up onto it, trying to back away. He followed her, leaping up onto the bed and falling on her in a tangle of limbs.

I had three different cameras that pointed at them, but for some reason I couldn't look away from the one directed at the foot of the bed. Georgia's legs were spread wide, kicking and struggling, trying to push herself away. The man was on his knees between her legs, slowly moving forward as he pinned her arms. I could hear her calling out as she struggled to keep her hips away, her feet trying desperately to find purchase on the soft sheets. His lean hips drew slowly closer, moving back and forth as he hunted for her pussy.

He moved forward, and her squealing went up an octave as he let out a pleasured groan. He spread his legs a bit to get more purchase, and I could see his cockhead just beginning to part her pussy lips. He adjusted and pushed forward slowly, driving his cock inside Georgia's helpless cunt. Each inch of progress drew a squeal of protest and a flurry of kicks from her and a whispered groan of pleasure from him.

I glanced at another camera feed, the one from the back of the store. Georgia still had her eyes closed, her mouth open with some mixture of surprise and unfamiliar pleasure as she struggled. He had her pinned, one hand on each of her wrists, but he hadn't put his weight down on her. As she struggled and twisted, he looked down at where they joined, marveling at the way her body opened for him in spite of her.

He began gently rocking his hips forward, rubbing them against hers and adjusting his cock's position inside her. A part of me had expected him to become more brutal when he jumped her, but he was capable of surprising us both.

Georgia cried out. Her eyes opened, staring at her wrist as she tried in vain to free it from his grasp.

"You said you wouldn't hurt me!" she objected.

He moved his hips, not roughly but firmly, tracing a path through her valley and up the hill beyond. She kept squirming and protesting, but a new note had crept into her voice - that of excitement she was trying to pretend wasn't happening.

"I don't think this is hurting you," he said.

Somehow, in spite of everything, she blushed. He smiled, although she didn't see it. He kept watching her face, though. As he adjusted his strokes, he watched her face and listened to the sounds she was trying and failing to keep inside. He was pleasuring her. I couldn't tell how much of her struggle was real or for show, but it was the best kind of terrible to watch.

It seemed as I watched that she couldn't decide either. She was still squirming and protesting, pushing futilely against his grip on her wrists, but it seemed from her expression and from her movements that she was trying to escape her own body as much as she was trying to escape him. Her cries of protest grew breathier, and her hips moved in ways that had less to do with escape and more to do with avoiding the pleasure he was giving her.

It occurred to me then, as I watched the man drive Georgia slowly towards her climax and jilled myself towards my own, that he was inside her bare. Georgia wasn't on the pill, owing to her oh-so religious parents, and she shared my cycle which meant she was fertile as hell. Would the man's consideration extend as far as pulling out, or would he fill her pretty cunt up with his seed? I didn't know, but the question gave me tremors.

"Stop!" she moaned. Perhaps she'd stopped trying to hide her arousal, or perhaps it was too much to contain.

"Eventually," he said. "When we're done. I think you've been denying yourself, though, and somebody's got to make you cum."

"No, they don't!" she objected.

Legally she had a good point, I thought. Then again, possession is nine-tenths of the law, and he was possessing her pussy pretty thoroughly. He controlled who got in, and occupied her vacancies, and manned her controls. He strummed her with his hips and she made the music he wanted.

Georgia was getting close. I could tell by her gasping, and by the way the movements of her hips grew more frenzied, and the way she opened her eyes but still refused to look at him. I knew that I had no right to watch her climax any more than he did, but I was too far gone to stop. Desire had climbed into the backseat with morality and he had her skirts down. Just like the man, I was going to get an orgasm from Georgia no matter how wrong it was.

A bit of her resolve slipped. She was still struggling desperately, hips twisting and feet kicking, but somehow I could tell. She knew he was going to get her there, even if she didn't exactly know where 'there' was. She'd been told that the path of course led through marriage, but it was taking a detour across a Healy posturematic, led by a stranger.

"This isn't right!" she panted.

"It feels right to me," he replied with a moan.

"No!" she cried. She fit so much into that word. No, strange man, stop making me feel this way. No, strange cock, stop exploring forbidden territory. No, pussy, stop cooperating so enthusiastically. Of course, none of them listened.

The man adjusted his angle, making his strokes into her pussy deeper without letting up on stimulating her. He moaned in pleasure and looked down at her, trying to take all of her in. Her slender shoulders twisted as she pushed against his grasp. Her back arched, and her breasts shook gently with each stroke. Her cute ass squirmed against the sheet, although I could see it far better than he could. He stared longest at her bush, though. I could only imagine what he felt as Georgia's wet pussy engulfed his cock, but he was giving me enough clues that I could imagine it quite well.