I never knew I could be such a filthy bastard.
I'm hard. Not even really thinking about what I did. Just knowing I'm gonna write about it, and my cock's hard as a gun barrel.
Funny, how life works. If I'd driven home, and pulled into my garage like normal, I'd probably never have caught them. But since my piece of shit Probe broke down again, and Peterson dropped me after we'd had a few brews over at O'Leary's, things worked out different. It would have been different, too, if I'd had my radio on me and called for backup, or if I'd seen the shadows moving around in my place before Peterson had driven off, and he'd come in with me. But that's not how it happened. He was half way down the block before I noticed there was someone in my house.
My weapon was where my radio was—on my belt, back at the station. But I had my backup piece. I slid it out of the holster under my shirt, flicked off the safety, and crept up to the side entrance, at the opposite end of the house from where those shadows were dancing on the walls. It's easy to get in quietly when you've got a key. I snuck in and went room by room, checking in the dark to be sure I wouldn't get ambushed when I got to whoever was stupid enough to leave a light on while they robbed me. All clear. Nothing left but to corner the thief fucks ransacking my bedroom.
The door was open and I snuck up quiet. Two. Kids. Not paying attention to anything but my stuff. A girl with long hair and a tight little ass standing with her back to the door and her head bent over some little thing in her hand, and a boy reaching for stuff on the shelf in my closet.
Right here's where things started to go a different way than I could have guessed, even though I'm the one who made them go that way.
I didn't level my weapon at her and say, "Freeze! Police!" I crept up on that girl with the long hair and the sweet little ass, with her bare, thin arms, and caught her from behind, and put my gun to her head.
She screamed and thrashed and writhed, but she was just a little thing and it was pretty easy to keep a hold of her until she figured out what that hard thing was poking at the side of her skull and settled down. Now I was watching the other kid spin around, see what's what, and drop the autographed baseball he'd found, and thrust his hands up in the air.
I asked them if they liked breaking into people's houses and stealing their stuff, but they were both quiet. Even though I'd already broken protocol, I was still thinking I'd just call it in. It really hadn't occurred to me to do anything weird. But as I stood there, asking their names and probably hearing fake ones, the adrenaline that had come on before I'd gotten the situation under control started to fade, and as it did, I realized how hard I'd gotten, holding that skinny, scared girl. I could feel the heat of her body through her t-shirt, and my thigh was pressed against the round curve of that little ass. I wanted to see what her face and tits looked like. That's when it occurred to me not to call it in. But I still hadn't decided.
I wanted to slide my hand up and assess her tits that way, but instead I marched them out to the kitchen, and made her tie him to a chair. I told her she'd better tie him up good, that I'd check how she'd done, and if she'd made it easy for him to get loose, I'd shoot him in the foot. When she finished I cuffed her to the door of the fridge and checked the job she'd done on the kid.
After all that I had time to stand back and really check her out. She stared at me, scared shitless, while I looked her up and down. She was pretty, but in a way that's mostly just because she's so young. By the time she's thirty or forty, she won't look like anything special. But her tits. Small and firm and sticking out invitingly through her t-shirt. Flat belly. A nice curve to her small hips. Very fuckable.
I asked her name again to see if she'd say the same thing, and she said again that her name was Kelly. I asked her Kelly what and after staring at me a minute like she was trying to decide whether to answer or what to say she finally said it was Kelly Gertz. I told her I hoped she wasn't lying to me and I stepped up real close to her. She was pretty small, and her head didn't even come up as high as my shoulders. I asked her did she have any ID on her and she said no. She was looking up at me, breathing really hard like she had some idea what I was thinking, and I said I'd just check to make sure, and put my hands on her ass and rubbed over her pockets, then squeezed my hands inside the pockets, which wasn't easy because her jeans were tight, and the back pockets were empty but I kept my hands in there for a few seconds, feeling her tight little ass, looking down at her looking up at me, thinking about how my dick felt, hard and throbbing in my pants. Then I checked her front pockets, which were empty, too, but all I could feel through those were her hip bones and the softness of her belly, which was flat because she was so skinny and not because she worked out.
I asked the kid what about him, and he said yeah, his ID was in his back pocket. I warned him not to fuck with me and waved my gun in his face to remind him why, then had him lift his ass off the chair, which was a struggle for him because of the way he was tied up, then I fished his wallet out of his pocket. Joseph Gertz. I'd figured they were boyfriend and girlfriend, not brother and sister. I still wasn't sure what I wanted to do with them, but for some reason, knowing they were brother and sister made my dick harder. I looked at the DOB. The kid was two days shy of his twentieth birthday.
"How old's baby sis?" I asked him.
