Unknown - Connie_s young lover

Delbert cowered, then crawled to one corner of the ten-by-ten office of police headquarters. He couldn't talk; his hand was still trying to locate his crushed balls.

"You been fucking that fat pig wife of yours?"

Delbert nodded.

"Ever going to do it again?"

Delbert didn't understand. Do what again? Fuck his wife or be late? He shook his head no to save his life.

Vance hitched up his belt. "Don't ever be late again. Or next time I'll kick your balls up your ass.

Delbert nodded fearfully. Shit, his balls felt like they were in his butt now.

Vance spun around and left. He slammed the door behind him. He was really pissed. Shit, he'd be lucky if he got to see anything at all of that black bastard plowing into those chicken-ball Chargers. Fucking shit, the score must be at least fifty to nothing!

He headed up the street. It was dark. Shit-kicker music wafted from the juke box of Martin Seaman's Buckeroo Bar.

Vance walked down the street as if he owned it. Hell, it was no Fairfax Avenue, but at least there was something that he could be king of. Weedville was his town, and nobody was going to tell him how to run his town.

As he passed Boris Jerkovich's photography studio, he stopped.

What the hell was that?

There was a light that flickered on and off in the back someplace. A red light.

There it was again.

Burglar. It had to be, 'cause the sign on the door said

CLOSED.

Mother-fucker, so Weedville had its criminals, too! And here all this time Vance Manning had thought that the only fuss in Weedville was when Coach Crowley took a bat to some kid's ass out on the football field.

It was gun-action time. Yessireeee!

Vance ran past the Buckeroo Bar, then turned left into the alleyway. He'd catch that fucking son of a bitch and shoot his ass for good.

He was huffing and puffing as he located the back door. He turned the doorknob quietly; Shit, locked.

There was only one way. A frontal assault.

Vance lifted his Thorn McAnn high, aimed for the center of the door, then kicked with all his might.

When Vance's size-fourteen foot crashed into the center of the door, his foot shot knee-deep through the splintering wood. How the fuck was he to know that he had put his foot right through a colony of termites that was busily chewing outwards from the center of the door?

"Aaiiieee!!"

His goddamn trousers were snagged on the wooden chasm that he had kicked through.

Boris' eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw that gigantic foot smashing through his doorway. In his fright, he had thrown all the prints of Connie Ryan fucking and sucking into the air.

"Aaarrgghhh!!" Boris screamed. Vance heard the scream. He squirmed his body, corkscrewed his leg, but still his trousers were hung up on the jagged edges of splintered wood.

"You mother-fucker! I'll get you, you mother fucker!"

"N-No, no!" Boris said in a high-pitched squeal.

Shit, there was only one way Vance could get in and get that fucking burglar.

He pulled "Law" out of the bolster, sighted along the, gleaming barrel, aiming dead-center on the doorknob.

Blam! Blam! Blam!

The.45 Magnum bucked in his hand as smoke curled from the barrel. Vance shoved with all his might against the remnants of the door.

It gave way, but as the bullet-riddled door gave way, Vance was literally dragged along with it.

Hell, he didn't know that there were stairs leading down to the back room. Now; he was tumbling, his leg still snagged up, falling upside down and conking his head against the steps.

Boris lost his dentures as his frail body shook with fear. He couldn't believe it!

"All right, mother-fucker!" Vance screamed as he tried to point his gun from an upside-down position at the naked old man who was turning white beneath the reddish light.

Vance was in frustrated agony. He couldn't get his goddamn foot clear of the door, and he couldn't get the drop on the burglar.

Blam! Blam! Blam!

The hinges of the door were completely demolished and the door came crashing down on Vance.

"Aaaheeee!!"

"No! N-No, don't shoot! N-No!"

Boris wanted to say more, but he felt as if his heart had been placed in a vise. One hand grabbed for his throbbing chest while the other clutched his favorite photo of Connie Ryan dressed in white cotton panties and Junior Miss bra.

Vance kicked the living shit out of the door or what was left of it. He finally struggled to his feet, his trousers and face covered with splinters and dirt.

Rods staggered away from Vance. His heart was on its last beat. His face was pasty white, and spittle drooled from his quivering lips. The photo dropped to the floor before he did, landing in a puddle of shit his fear-stricken body had made. His heart stopped, his lungs gave way, his eyes closed forever.

Everything died, except his love for Connie Ryan.

His cock had been in her ass, and it had felt good. His prick had been in her mouth, and it had felt exciting. Now, his cock was in her cunt, and there was no way to describe how beautiful his dick felt.

Connie was smiling. She had never felt so beautiful before. She felt radiant, as if somehow, someway, this cock that was energetically plunging into her cunt, was the most important thing in her life.

But she knew it wasn't.

It wasn't the cock that was the most important thing in her life. It was the man behind the prick, the man who knew how to fuck, how to fondle her cut, how to eat her cunt, how to fuck her ass until she was screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Fuck me, Tommy!"

And Tommy no longer felt like the wayward boy of two weeks ago. He felt exuberant, like he was the king of fuck heaven. He felt like a man!

"Fuck harder, Tommy!"

Tommy fucked harder. He was kneeling behind Connie, and she had her head turned towards him, urging him on, smiling so beautifully at him.

Tommy watched his prick shudder into Connie's clasping cunt, past the talented cunt-lips and into the hot, churning core of her pussy.

"I promise, Tommy. I'll never fuck another cock so long as I live. Keep fucking me, Tommy! Oh, shit, your cock feels so good. It's so hard! Oh, shit, Tommy! I feel it coming!"

Tommy felt her cunt moving faster and faster on his cock. He put his hands on his hips and watched Connie's pussy corkscrewing his prick. Her pussy was moving back towards him, then it moved away, then back again.

"I'm coming, Tommy! Oooooohhh, please hold me! Hold my ass! Cooommiiinnggg!!"

Tommy held onto the hunching muscles of her ass-cheeks. Getting a good grip, he opened up her ass-crack as her crotch fucked back and forth, her cunt stripping his prick with every thrust.

Connie felt her ass-crack being spread apart, and she loved it, loved knowing that Tommy was looking at her asshole with lust-filled eyes. Her orgasms were coming in a series of shock waves now. She fucked faster, harder, trying to get every inch of Tommy's cock into her cunt before withdrawing to the tip of his bulging prick.

"Oh, God! Tommy, you're the best! Your cock's the best! Please keep fucking me! Don't shoot yet! Just keep fucking me!"

With his first load of cum in Connie's ass, and his second load somewhere between her throat and her belly, there was no way that he could have come now if he had wanted to. Shit, he could go all night fucking Connie with the hard-on that he had.

"Oh, Tommy! Your cock's always so hard; always so ready to fuck. Keep flicking, Tommy! Fuck me forever and forever! Oh, God! I'm comiinngggg! Aaahheiggg!!"

Connie's ass ground against Tommy's loins, her cunt filled to bursting with his cock. Her cunt-lips had a firm grip on the base of his cock-shaft and the tube of her pussy was rippling with ecstasy.