Hannah Bronto - Lovers in paradise

"Why not," I suggested, half-seriously. "Just as soon as you're all readjusted psychologically, come back and let me know. Maybe we could work something out. There's a lot of money to be made in quick sex…"

"Oh, look at that!"

On the walk paths, coming toward us, was a thick-muscled, broad-shouldered workman striding briskly down the street. He had a tunic blouse on, but he was naked from the waist down. His cock was erect, and attached to the end of his shaft was a silver and plastic electronic masturbatory pump.

"How gauche," I said, shaking my head, looking upon the man with utter disdain. "If there is one thing that I really find offensive, it's masturbating in public. It's so uncouth. It just indicates a total lack of class."

Valerie sighed. "I know what you mean, Mal."

"Do you have much of that…" – I indicated the masturbating man – "back home?"

"Not too much. On Ganymede, people generally try to keep that sort of thing off the street, but there are always some people who have absolutely no regard for the rights of others."

"It's a matter of education," I said. "No matter how advanced a civilization may be, there will always be someone like that around. No class. None at all."

Holmes returned shortly after, and I observed that the thickness – which previously characterized his crotch – was now noticeably absent. He grinned from ear to ear. When Valerie politely asked him how it was, he said: "Great. A real pick-me-up."

The tunnel was now clear, and we shot across town in a matter of minutes. True to form, the moment we materialized in front of police headquarters, the City Planning Computer came through with the authorization which would have permitted us to take another, clear level.

"It figures," I muttered.

With Miss Marple in hand, we stepped into one of the antigrav shafts and floated up to Commissioner Moran's office.

Sitting just outside Commissioner Moran's door, in his usual place behind his massive desk, was Sergeant Mycroft. He was an absolutely corpulent man, but his face, though massive, had preserved something of a sharpness of expression. His eyes, which were of a peculiarly light, watery gray, seemed to always retain a faraway, introspective look.

"Malachi Browne," he said, making no effort to move. Certainly Sergeant Mycroft was one of the laziest men I have ever known. He had no ambition, and absolutely no energy. He put out a broad, fat hand, like the flipper of a seal. "You certainly took your time in getting over here. What would you have done if this were a real emergency? Arrive tomorrow?"

I shook his hand, well familiar with his kidding banter. "Sometimes, Sergeant, its easier to get clear out to Titan than it is to get across town."

"Don't I know it," he sympathized. "Don't I know it." Valerie stood at my side, clearly feeling uncertain. She looked furtively around the office, the sense of being trapped welling up in her eyes. She studied Sergeant Mycroft. He was in full uniform, and as such, his mere presence must have brought home the realization that she had indeed been arrested.

"This," I said, bowing gallantly, "is my captive, Miss Valerie Marple. I trust, Sergeant, I can leave her in your capable hands."

"Wait a minute," Sergeant Mycroft muttered. "Wait a minute. You know you've got to sign for her." He searched through the papers on his desk, finding at last the necessary form. He shoved the paper at me.

Without reading it, I signed it.

"Bringing her in," he mumbled under his breath, reading over the signed form. He dropped it into the Out file. "I'll bet you were bringing her in."

I laughed. "Was that what I told you over the communicator?"

"Well, I didn't make that up. Don't you remember?"

"You must have called at a good time."

Sergeant Mycroft gave Valerie a careful once-over with his pale eyes. "I'll just bet that I called at a good time."

There was a row of buttons embedded in the right-hand corner of the bright yellow plasteel desk, and Sergeant Mycroft pressed one. "Send in Policewoman Drew," he growled.

Valerie pressed herself against my side. Her body was trembling. "Mal, I'm frightened…"

"There's no need to be," I assured her. "This is all perfectly routine. You'll be photographed, a voice print match will be made, and then you'll be brought to a room where you can bathe and rest. If you're hungry you can order something to eat. Then, a little later, a psychiatrist will come and interview you. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"But what if…"

"Would you like me to stop down and visit with you a little later?" I asked.

Valerie's face softened with hope. "Oh, would you? I'd appreciate that so much."

"Of course."

Policewoman Drew appeared at the door. "Miss Marple," she said softly, smiling.

"Mal…"

"Go ahead. There's nothing to be afraid of. I'll be down there a little later."

When she was gone, Sergeant Mycroft leaned forward over his desk, and in a low, conspiratorial tone, he asked: "How was she?"

"Excellent," I told him. "She's a very passionate woman. One of those rare multiple comers. Hell, she must have come ten, twelve times in all."

Sergeant Mycroft nodded sagely. "Oh, yes, I know the type. My wife Nancy is like that. For her, sex is one long orgasm. She's one hot-blooded woman, Nancy is. You ought to try her out once Mal. I really think you'd like her. All our friends really rate her high."

"Why, thank you," I said, sincerely flattered. "I really do appreciate that. I've heard a lot about your wife from some of the guys, and she really does sound good. I'm going to take you up on that."

"Fine; fine," he said, pumping my hand. "I'm sure Nancy will be tickled pink to hear that. She's always had a thing for you, frankly, especially since she's found out how thick your cock is. Nancy likes a thick cock. She's not so crazy about long cocks, but she sure does like a big fat one."

"Where did she hear about me?" I asked, flushed with quiet pride.

"Oh, you know how it is. Things like that get around. She mentioned you to me a couple of times, but I didn't know how to bring it up with you. You know how it is sometimes. You don't like to impose."

"Don't be silly, Mycroft. You should have told me. I'd have been glad to fuck her. You should know better than to stand on ceremony with me. We've been friends for too long."

Mycroft sighed. "You're right. Absolutely right. It was all my fault. I hope you didn't take offense or anything?"

"Me?" I asked incredulously. I laughed softly. "Don't be silly. I understood completely. Besides, what have you got to worry about now? I said I was coming, didn't I? Hell from what I heard about Nancy from the guys, you couldn't keep me away from her. Just thinking about her gives me a hardon. And I want you to tell her that, too!"

"You always know just the right thing to say. I appreciate this, Mal. And so will Nancy."

"Don't mention it."

"Say, I've got an idea. What are you doing this Sunday?"

I thought for a moment. "Nothing important. Why, what did you have in mind?"

"Well, you see, I've off this weekend, and I was just thinking maybe we – the three of us – could get together on Sunday. Nancy could fix us some dinner, we could have some drinks, and then we could have a trio together: you, me, and Nancy. What do you think?"

"Fabulous. That really sounds great You've got yourself a deal, buddy. And you tell Nancy what I said: tell her I can't wait to fuck her."

"Don't worry about that – I'll tell her. Hell, she'll probably get so turned on by the idea, I'll bet she masturbates ten times before Sunday!"

I laughed appreciatively at the image. "Hey, you know what? Now you've given me an idea. Why don't you fuck Valerie Marple?"