"Stop! Police! Hold it, right there!"
Karen Troy stood, legs spread, her handgun held at arm's length in front of her. The drug bust that had gone down just moments earlier had netted the cops a fine haul of illegal substances that would no longer find their way to the streets. Four men had occupied the seedy apartment when Karen and her fellow officers had burst in with one of them managing to make a break for it out the window. The athletic young man had slipped down the fire escape like a monkey, and let out up the alley. A squad car headed him off at the alley's end, and he doubled back running right into Karen.
The desperate looking criminal stopped a dozen feet away his eyes wild. He looked around for a way out, but none presented itself.
"You got nowhere to go! Get down on the ground and put your hands behind your head!" ordered Karen.
A flicker of fear mixed with desperation crossed the young man's face. His hand went toward his belt, slipping under his loose-fitting button-down shirt.
"Don't do it! I said freeze!"
He moved. The sound of Karen's weapon discharging in the narrow alleyway was deafening. A single round struck the suspect in the upper chest sending him spiraling to the ground.
Karen froze in place the scene playing out in slow motion in her mind. A pair of uniformed police officers arrived with their guns drawn from the opposite end of the alley. One of them covered the wounded young man while the other pulled back his shirt. A small handgun, probably a .22 was pushed down in the top of his pants.
"You can lower the gun, Karen, you got the punk," said her partner Howard Mannix from behind her.
Her arms wouldn't move. It was like they were cast from marble, and she had become a statue. Howard walked closer pushing her arms down himself.
"It was a clean shoot, Karen. The kid was going for his piece."
Karen looked briefly at Howard and then back down to the kid on the ground. His curly dark hair fell around a face with swarthy skin and Italian features. It wasn't Ronnie Foreman, but they looked so much alike they could have passed for each other at a glance.
"You o.k.?" asked her partner.
"Sure...fine..."
How could she explain that she had hesitated almost fatally because the suspect looked like her teenage lover?
She holstered her weapon walking away to stand alone near the head of the alley. An ambulance turned onto the cross street a minute later its siren preceding its arrival by a wide margin. Paramedics rushed into the alley with a gurney heading for the kid on the ground. Karen watched them work her face impassive, but emotions churning beneath the surface.
"We need to wait for Internal Affairs. They will want to talk to you. I have to bag your gun, Karen," said Mannix with a surprising amount of sympathy in his usual sarcastic tone.
She handed over the weapon without a word.
"It was a clean shoot," repeated Mannix, "you got nothing to worry about."
"Yeah...nothing at all," replied Karen.
The gurney was wheeled past her, the kids face pale and lifeless although his chest was still rising and falling, so at least for the moment, he was alive. The ambulance sped away in a cacophony of sirens and lights.
Karen had to work her key into the worn deadbolt lock on her front door. The damn thing was always sticking, and she thought for the hundredth time that she should get it replaced. The meeting with Internal Affairs had gone about as she had expected. All shootings in the line of duty had to be investigated, but the early consensus seemed to be that this one was entirely justified. It still meant that she would be tied to a desk for a few days until things were wrapped up.
The house was surprisingly quiet. Typically, she would have been assaulted by the sounds of loud music coming from her son's room.
"I could use a quiet night," thought Karen as she tossed her keys in the bowl on the table by the door.
A sound did reach her ears at that point, a scraping noise coming from the direction of the kitchen. Karen moved forward cautiously, reaching for her weapon, but realizing at the last second that her holster was empty. She had a backup piece strapped to her ankle, but for the moment she decided against drawing it. The hallway leading to the kitchen was covered by a thick runner that muffled her footsteps. Another noise came from the same direction, a human voice, singing in a very off-key fashion. Karen smiled as she turned the corner.
"I hope you don't burn dinner this time."
"Holy Shit! Ms. Troy!" yelled Ronnie Foreman nearly dropping the mixing bowl he had in both hands.
"You scared the shit out of me! What are you part Ninja?"
Ronnie was her son's best friend, and following the events of a drug sting the previous year, Karen's lover. The twenty-year age difference between them made for some awkward pillow talk sometimes, but Karen couldn't complain about the young man's abilities between the sheets. He had brought her to more Earth-shaking orgasms than she could count since they had gotten together. Six months earlier, Ronnie had come to live with her and her son, Charlie, after his mother had lost her battle with alcoholism once again and ended up in rehab. The arrangement certainly made it easier to keep their relationship going without raising suspicion from anyone.
"Where's Charlie?"
"Band practice. I think this new group he has got going is turning into a solid outfit. They finally got a drummer who can keep time. When he makes it big, I hope he remembers all us little people."
"What are we having tonight," said Karen moving closer.
"My world famous meatloaf! Well...It's at least famous in this neighborhood, or it will be when you have some."
Ronnie turned fully around to face his best friends mother his curly, dark hair slipping down over one eye. Karen was momentarily transported back to the alley watching the muzzle flash of her service weapon, hearing the sound of a falling body striking the ground.
Her hands reached out pulling the mixing bowl from his grip and setting it down on the counter.
"I've told you before when we're alone you can call me Karen," she said softly.
"Karen...I know...I like calling you that," he replied a slow smile splitting his firm lips.
Karen grasped the front of Ronnie's t-shirt pulling him toward her almost violently his chest crashing into her large breasts. Her mouth covered his in a fierce kiss with her tongue slamming forward adding a sexy hunger to the embrace. The kiss lingered, her tongue moving all around inside Ronnie's mouth sending so much pleasure rolling through his young body that his knees began to shake. When their lips finally parted he was panting trying to regain his breath.
"Jesus...Karen...What's gotten into you?"
"I need you, Ronnie, right now!" she said tightly.
Ronnie's t-shirt vanished over his head hitting the counter next to the abandoned bowl. Karen was all over his chest licking and biting at his nipples before running her tongue straight down his stomach teasing his belly-button while she worked at the buckle of the belt holding his shorts on. They slipped down quickly in her grip exposing the black, silk boxers he wore underneath. There was a growing bulge hiding under the cloth that Karen knew all to well was capable of reaching enormous proportions when appropriately stimulated, and she was just the woman to do it. Her soft, full lips grazed across Ronnie's swelling sex organ then she gently nibbled at it through his underwear.
"Ah! Fuck Yes..." gasped Ronnie.
The lightweight material was barely able to contain the monstrosity hiding inside it. A bit of swollen purple flesh emerged all on its own from the flap in front pushing outward and up until at least four inches of Ronnie's thick cock was on display.
"I like when it comes out to play," moaned Karen.
The fat head as big as a lemon sat tantalizingly close to her lips, and Karen teased it running her tongue in a slow loop all the way around. Ronnie gasped leaning back against the counter. He had dreamed about being with this beautiful woman so many times in the past that the fact they had become lovers still seemed like a fantasy come true. Her lips engulfed the head of his long, love gun making him tremble as she took as much of his length into her throat as she could.
"Ahhhh! Uhhhh! Shit...Karen..." cried Ronnie as she slowly worked his cock in and out of her mouth lathering its length in her saliva.
She was always amazed at the sheer size of his prick, bigger than any man she had ever encountered. There were times she could barely handle taking it inside her, but tonight she was so desperate to rid herself of the dark memories of that afternoon she would gladly take the pain with the pleasure. The thick pole throbbed in her mouth, head swelling, a bit of salty pre-cum coating her tongue. It took both of her hands to cover its length stroking it while she sucked it more quickly making Ronnie cry out and push toward her humping her mouth. She let go with one hand allowing her fingers to run down into the flap of Ronnie's boxers to tease his drum-tight ball sack.
"Uh! Karen...God, Baby! That feels so fucking good!"
The sound of his cock sloshing wetly in an out of Karen's mouth filled the small kitchen. Ronnie strained to hold back the flood of his semen that threatened to erupt from his balls. Fuck! Karen was so good at this part. He ran his fingers through her thick brunette hair while watching her full, pink lips running all over his penis. The urge to release in her warm mouth was growing in leaps and bounds, but he sensed she wanted more from this encounter than a throat full of his spunk.
It took a supreme effort to break away from the hot blow job Karen was giving him, but Ronnie just managed to master his desire long enough to slip his throbbing prick from between her lips. He pulled her back to her feet and covered her slick, swollen lips with his own. They kissed hard, mouths pasting together and tongues swirling while Ronnie quickly unbuttoned Karen's blouse and pushed it to the floor. Her large, firm tits were suspended in a lacy, black bra with hooks that yielded easily to his practiced fingers.
If he ever got tired of looking at Karen's breasts, he hoped someone would shoot him because life wouldn't be worth living.
The twin cannons on her chest were about as perfect as two breasts could be, and thanks to the Internet, Ronnie had plenty of research to back up that supposition. The skin was so soft and warm in his hands, and he lifted them a bit enjoying the weight. He kissed one of her full, pink areolas the bumps becoming more prominent. When his tongue lashed across one stiff, dark pink nipple, Karen gasped grabbing at the back of his head.
"That's it, Ronnie. You know how I like it! Suck them hard, Baby. Bite my nipples and make them scream!"
Her large nip filled the roof of his mouth, and Ronnie did as she asked letting it fall back between his teeth so that he could give her some sharp love bites. He moved from one magnificent breast to the other licking and teasing them in turn while she thrashed and groaned in his arms. The heat was growing fast between them. They fell back into another deep, French kiss, Karen's wet nipples pressing to Ronnie's muscular chest.
A barely audible rustling of cloth heralded the dropping of Karen's slacks to the ground exposing the black, silk thong that covered her well-trimmed bush. The tile of the kitchen was cool on the skin of her back as Ronnie took her to the ground.
He looked into her eyes even while his fingers slid the last obstruction between him and her wet pussy away.
"You are so beautiful, Karen..." he said softly.
"Take me, right now, Ronnie...I need to feel you inside me!"
