Unknown: Daddy_s strip search

"Oh, she's pretty, Daddy dear. You'd like to do it with her, wouldn't you, you revolting pervert. Just see how she swings that adorable little ass… almost like, she knows you're looking at her. You'd like to stand behind her and press your cock between her buns, wouldn't you, you filthy old man. Are you getting hard? Lemme feel it."

Lo put her hand in Hum's lap. She groped around. She couldn't feel much through his pants and jockey shorts.

"Where is it? C'mon, I know it's in there. Where you hiding? Ah-h-h-h, there it is. There's your miserable little worm."

Lo ran her fingers down the lengthening cock and then back again. Back and forth, lightly her fingers stroked him. He began to feel a little something as a result of her attentions. His cock lurched under her touch. She knew she was getting somewhere. She could feel it. She began to croon to the lengthening stalk as it stretched down his leg.

"Pretty cock. Beautiful, beautiful cock that Daddy likes to put in Lo's hot mouth. Lovely cock that Daddy likes Lo to suck on and lick and kiss and that he jams in Lo's throat until she almost chokes. Sweet and sour cock that spits all over Lo's face until she's drenched with Daddy's stuff and it runs down her neck."

Hum gave a cry and tore at his belt with excited fingers. He stripped his zipper all the way down and ripped his jockey shorts aside. His throbbing cock stood out from his crotch as he thrust his hips forward. It bobbed up and down with the excitement of the moment.

"Owr-rh… owr-r-rh," he growled. His voice surprised even him. "Owr-r-rh, you sweet slut. You darling cunt. You fuck-mouth. You sucking bitch. You horny twat. You baby-cunt. You sweet cock sucker. Oh. Oh. OOOoooo."

Lo knew she had him by the balls in more ways than one when he started calling her dirty names. He always did that when his excitement carried him almost beyond control. This was no ordinary passion. This was close to frenzy and she loved knowing that she was the cause. She loved arousing him to this peak.

The Olds was weaving down Main Street so he pulled over to the curb and killed the motor. Lo moved across the seat and began jerking him off.

"Look at that pretty girl now, Daddy. Wouldn't you like her fingers around your cock? Pretend it's her hand. Pretend she's jerking you off. Does that do it for you? Huh? Just think of putting your hand up that mini-skirt. Imagine pulling her panties down, you chump. Imagine burying your face in her sweaty, smelly, drippy little crotch. You'd love that, wouldn't you, you creep."

Hum had swung his gaze to the girl on the sidewalk. Again, his cock lurched in Lo's grasp. His chest heaved and he gasped with rising excitement. Lo's fingers moved faster and faster around his cock shaft. He suddenly realized that she was chanting something. He listened closely and could make out the words. It was a cheer.

"Gimme a P. Gimme an I. Gimme an S-K-Y. Gimme a P. Gimme an I. Gimme an S-K-Y. Pisky… Pisky… High… High… High." And her hand moved bock and forth over his thick throbber to the rhythm of the cheer.

Hum went over the edge. His cock spurted hot come all over the place. Still she didn't stop. The lather that poured from his cock covered the head and most of the cock shaft. Her hand slipped easily back and forth, lubricated by his slime. It poured out of him by the teaspoonful.

"Wow," she said, awed by the volume of his hot issue. "You're a regular fountain. Did Daddy like that, hm-m-m-m? Scope a little girl and you're a regular gusher ain'cha?"

"You folks jus' passing through?"

Lo stiffened. The strange voice came from behind her. She sucked in her breath. Her eyes bulged. She grabbed the sweater on the car seat and casually tossed it on Hum's lap… over his still gaping fly. She also thrust her slimy fingers between her hip and the car seat.

She turned and looked in the direction of the strange voice; she looked directly into the face of Sheriff Roche, Pisky's number one law enforcement officer. Bull Roche, pronounced "roach", although there were those in the town who tried to give the name a two syllable smattering of elegance by calling him Sheriff Row-shay. Bull thought that was bullshit and corrected them right away.

Bull surveyed Hum and Lo through dark aviator Polaroids. He wore his smokey hat squared off and pulled down close to the dark glasses. He also wore a broad smile that didn't have so much as a gram of humor in it. It was the smile of a Disney cat that has cornered a mouse.

Sheriff Roche was making his mid afternoon tour down Main when he spotted the Olds with the out-of-state plates. He glided up alongside noiselessly and wound down his window. Hum never heard him. Neither did he see the spinning blue light on top of the sheriff's shiny squad car.

The motor of the blue and white with the big star on the door was quiet. Hum wouldn't have heard it anyway over the sound of Lo's Pisky cheer. When he looked up at the sound of Bull's voice, his stomach knotted up like a fist.

Hum smiled at the gnarled face of the peace officer – a smile full of sweetness and hope. "Nice town you got here, Sheriff," Hum ventured. "My daughter and I were just driving through when we got an intense case of the dries. I'm sure you can tell us where we might buy a Coke or a Doctor Pepper, eh?"

"This is your daughter? How do, Miss." Bull touched the brim of his smokey and smiled.

Hum noticed that the smile didn't warm a bit though it did show a bit of gold from Bull's fancy dental work. Hum also deduced that Bull could not have seen any of Lo's heavy breathing effort in his crotch. After all, he couldn't see anything of Sheriff Roche below the shoulders. Roche could not therefore see any activity below his or Lo's shoulders. The knot in Hum's stomach relaxed somewhat.

"Tell you what you do, neighbor. Jus' you follow my cruiser down Main to the Pisky Sweet Shoppe. It's just a block ahead on the right and, if they can't wet your whistle, no one can. And the treat's on me. You can tell me what you're doing so far from Connecticut."

Hum nodded and smiled. Having a soft drink with a law officer was not exactly his idea of a fun time.

"Coke's okay for you folks?" Sheriff Roche asked, as they settled into the Pisky Sweet Shoppe. "Three Cokes, Marcella," he called to the waitress.

Hum found himself liking the ambience, notwithstanding the hulking presence of Sheriff Roche. It became obvious that the store was a teen hangout, as high school students in two's and three's began drifting in.

Lo, despite her earlier bellicosity, had little to say. But her smug smile spoke volumes. She watched Hum cast glances right and left checking out the pretty teenage girls. What a deal, she thought, the sheriff himself had gathered them into the very place where Hum most wanted to be.

"What kind of business you in, Mr…?"

"Ah-h-h, Humbert. And my daughter, Dolores, is known far and wide as just plain Lo."

"I'm both a teacher and a writer, Sheriff and I've been researching a book I plan to write on the rituals and customs of teenage Americans of this day and age. Lo and I have been touring in conjunction with that endeavor – making notes, conducting interviews and taking pictures of young people before returning to my faculty chores at the College of Central Connecticut."

Lo regarded Hum with wide-eyed surprise as he made this statement. Her smile grew wider. This was the first she had heard of Hum's book project and she was stunned by his powers of invention.

"I know you'd be surprised, Sheriff, at the lack of homogeneity among teenagers from one state to another. Little or nothing in common from area to area. Remarkable!"

"Uh-huh, well you won't find too many of those homos in Pisky, I can tell you straight out, Mr. Humbert."