Rod Strong - Dealing in adultery

"Let me rest," she finally begged, and I pulled my probing poker from her well-fucked cunt.

She turned over, half sitting up, her apple knockers looking so beautiful as they stood up and stared at me. Looking at my still-stiff stuffer, she wondered why I hadn't come.

"I need more stimulation," I told her.

"Never let it be said I sent a patient away with an untreated swelling," she said, smiling. "You lie on the table and I'll take care of you."

So I lay down on the table and immediately felt her burning tongue on my belly. She could have started higher and worked her way down, but she knew time was of the essence. The doctor would be there in about a half hour. We didn't have time to waste.

She licked my stomach, setting me all atingle, then worked her way down. At first I thought she was going to start sucking on my oil-coated cock, but she bypassed it, lifted my legs, and jammed her tongue straight into my ass.

Static thrills eeled their way through me, and as her tongue worked its way in and out, I thought I was ready to go crazy. Then she used her lips as well as her tongue, actually sucking on my anal regions, and I thought it was the end of the world. This gal was a great ass sucker.

Just when I thought my poor cock would batter itself to death, she stopped. My lance stood straight up in the air like an Eiffel Tower of flesh and blood.

Nicky wasted no time in mounting me, straddling my thighs, hovering over my enlarged schvance with her once-again-steaming trench. Squatting, she made certain my fuckpole was lined up with the deliciously soft entrance to her womanly channel, then she simply sat on it, her feet extending themselves to either side so that her ass slammed smack against my thighs. She wailed, feeling my probing prick penetrate her to the womb. My flaming cock was all but lost in the overheated pussy of the luscious nurse squatting on top of me.

"Move it, honey," I told her, feeling the way her cushioned cunt walls held my cock. Her hips began a circular motion, making my pylon feel as if it were wrapped in a blanket of ecstatic pleasure. She moved her creamy ass up and down with amazing rapidity, making certain every bit of the surface of my blood-filled pudendum was massaged and sucked.

Her fabulous fanny kept pounding, and her turbulent twat continued its leeching. I stared at the sight of this succulent woman as she bounced on my excruciatingly aching cock. Her fabulously round tits bounced up and down, but were so firm they never flapped. I reached up and massaged the cherry-red nipples, wanting to suck them into my mouth, hoping to chew on them and savor their flavor.

I could feel the inner walls of her crushing cunt tightening again. She was ready for another blowoff, and I could feel my own sperm starting to rise.

Now she gyrated wildly, almost spinning as she churned her firm hips against my hands. Each time she sat down she got another lunging stab from my swordlike cock, and the excitement in her continued mounting.

She began jumping up and down wildly, and once or twice my flailing cock slipped out of her hustling hole, but because it was so rigid, it had no trouble re-entering her pulsating center. And that delightful ass refused to stop churning, sending one rippling sensation after another into my stretched fuckpole. My upstanding probe shivered and shook until an overpowering peak was attained, and I began jetting spunk into her hungry cunt canyon.

My nuts ached like crazy as the wild spurts of jism shot into her waiting sheath, and now her ass moved like a machine, with short, rapid up and down strokes. She threw her burning box down with all her strength, steeling herself for her final orgasm I could see her vibrate as the sticky come from my body soaked the walls of her bouncing valley. She must have felt as much of a tingle surround her pussy as I felt inside my pounding prick.

I erupted again and again, thrilling to the feeling of the way her cunt clasped my still-rigid dong. And then she actually started shrieking, her thighs wide apart and her hands tugging at her loins. A load of lava was going into, instead of out of, her volcano. Her crazed cunt seemed to explode in a trillion directions at once as I continued spurting into her writhing box. And then, finally, it all subsided.

When it came to sex this chick was no dummy. She wanted more but realized it would have taken a good hour to raise another solid cane between my thighs, so she got off me, wiped the two of us clean with a moist towelette. Then we dressed. She had a smile on her mousey kisser now, and had lost all of her initial cool reserve.

"You should know," she told me, "that I normally don't behave quite this irrationally. But last night my boyfriend and I had sex and though he came, I didn't. I was going crazy for a climax. When you showed up, you were dripping with ability. Normally I might have been able to control myself. But because of what happened last night, I guess I…"

"Hey," I broke in, clipping my holster on under my jacket, attaching it to my belt. "Since when d'you have to apologize for a good time?"

"It's just that I don't want to foster the wrong impression."

"I have only one impression of you, honey, and believe me, it's a great one. Now, about that record of Mrs. Randall."

She went to the file cabinet, shuffled through the cards, and came out with the one marked Joan Randall. She let me glance at it, quickly. There was nothing in Joan Randall's record about a weak heart. A malingering odor was starting to form in the land of the Danes.

"How often does Joan Randall see the doctor?" I asked.

"According to her card she has a semi-annual checkup," Nicky replied, "and the last one was two months ago."

"According to these records she's in perfect health."

"She is," Nicky nodded, checking the record herself.

"No high blood pressure or a weak heart, right?"

"None of those," Nicky agreed, putting the record away.

"What's the doctor's fee?" I asked.

"For checking the record? You paid in advance," she smiled.

"You are a doll," I smiled back. "If you didn't have a steady boyfriend, I'd be back for social reasons."

"Don't let that stop you," she replied, writing her name and address on a piece of paper and handing it to me. "He works out of town and only comes in for the weekends."

"You'll be hearing from me," I reassured her, tucking her slip of paper into my wallet. And she would. Anyone who could fuck as well as she deserved a whole night of attention.

Leaving the doctor's office I noticed the good physician pulling up in his black Cadillac. When he got out, I saw he was skinny, of medium height, wore glasses, and had a long neck like a chicken.

I'd seen him somewhere before, but couldn't remember where until I'd gotten into my own Falcon and pulled away. And when I realized where I'd seen him, I was glad he hadn't been at his office when I'd arrived. Joseph Carreba was the man I'd seen last night conducting the meeting of the murder club in the hall of the Knights of Seabrook building.

This made things all the more puzzling. Did Carreba order Joan Randall fucked to death knowing her heart was sound?

Did Joan Randall have a weak heart? If so, why was Dr. Carreba hiding it in his files? Evidence of a heart attack would certainly show up should the woman die in the throes of an orgasm. Then the police would surely check with Carreba to see if he'd had any evidence of a pre-existing heart condition where she was concerned.

Doctors are only human, but when it comes to their records, they fake nothing. So if Dr. Carreba's records showed Joan Randall did not have a heart condition, I was willing to bet she didn't. Which meant there was no way Cy Roberts was going to fuck her to death. So why should Carreba even want him to try?