Edward Lee - The Backwoods

Jiminy Christmas , Sutter thought again.

—and that jaw-dropping, one hundred percent perfect body

Sutter was thrown for a disturbing loop. Looks like I’ll have to arrest this gal for public nek-it-ness, I suppose. What the hell’s she doin’ walkin’ ‘round here at this time of night bare-assed?

His libido and human sexual responses in general didn’t ponder an answer to his question. She traipsed around the car, the headlights glaring over every perfect detail, breasts gently jogging, and then she—

Oh, Mother of God!

—she leaned over the passenger-side window and shot Chief Sutter a giant, sultry smile.

“Evenin’, there, Mr. Chief!”

“Huh-huh-howdy,” he stammered.

“What’cha doin’?”

"Ruh-ruh-ruh-routine patrol, miss.”

The Southern twang blended with that indefinable Squatter accent enriched her voice to something dark and syrupy and most definitely sexual. “Well, me, I’se just out fer a walk.”

Without being asked, then, she opened the passenger door and plopped her exquisite rump right on the seat. Chief Sutter did not raise an objection.

She grinned shyly at him in the dash lights. “Can I tell ya something, Mr. Chief?”

Sutter’s mouth opened but no response seemed possible. The mere sight of her body choked him up, circumventing any possibility of reply.

Her eyes looked dreamy, green gems filled with bright-blue chips that seemed to glow. “Just somethin’ about officers a’ the law, and the uniform ‘n’ all . . .” She sighed. “Just gets me all flustered. Cain’t really even say why.”

More proof that this was a dream. In Sutter’s forty years of police work—and forty years of obesity—no woman had ever voiced this cliché to him. And no woman this attractive had ever given him any kind of notice as overt as this. Still speechless, he felt his eyes struggle to stay in one place: her crotch, her tight belly, her bodacious breasts. Eventually the breasts won out as those dark pink jutting nipples bigger than silver dollars began to hypnotize him as surely as a mesmerist’s pendulum.

The voice oozed further. “Yeah, Mr. Chief. You fellas in uniform . . . ‘specially big, strong ones like you . . . git me so hot I cain’t rightly sit still. . . .”

Current as fierce as electricity speared through him when her hand—soft as a little bird but unduly hot —found his knee, then began to inch up higher on his leg. The humid night air hanging in the car drew the sweat out of her skin; soon her nakedness was shining, her breasts and belly aglaze. This pinpoint image of glimmering flesh, compounded by the sensation of her hand creeping toward his groin, made Chief Sutter feel as though his small and almost always flaccid penis had magically transformed into something the size and stiffness of a summer squash. It strained against his police trousers in an absolutely thrilling agony.

Now her voice seemed desperate with need. “Mr. Chief, ya turn me on so much I’se just goin’ crazy! Let’s git’cher pants hitched down—” She was almost in tears now. “If I don’t have ya right now, I swear I’ll just die!” And then her hands slipped up to his belt, her slick breasts bobbing, sweat visibly dripping off the points of the nipples.

Sexual malfeasance be damned! Chief Sutter made no effort to stop her.

“You can do me right in this here car.” She was panting. “I’se about to git off just thinkin’ about it!”

Oh, my, Chief Sutter thought as he ground his teeth.

His pants were down, his knees quivering. The girl came very close to gasping when she looked down, and when Chief Sutter looked down himself, he, too, came very close to gasping.

Where did that fuckin’ log come from? he asked either the universe, God, or fate. The knobbed baton of flesh that throbbed up in his lap was at least three times larger than the actual member nature had tacked onto him. And then he remembered, with a cunning smile: That’s right. This is a dream.

And what a grand dream it was, when the girl crawled forward in the seat.

She spoke quickly now, in words that were scalded by desire. “Guess ya don’t remember me, huh, Mr. Chief? Just a bit ago?”

“Huh?”

“Them bad men in the funny truck who wanted ta do bad things ta me? You mussed ‘em up right fierce.”

Then somehow, through her words, an awareness snapped. The Squatter gal in the road today. The chick that black guy and the hippie were tryin’ to sell crystal meth to . . .

“I’se so grateful to you fer protectin’ me, Mr. Chief, and I’se gonna show you just how grateful right now,” she promised, and began to lift her leg over, to bring herself crotch-to-crotch with him in the front seat—

Oh, yeah, he thought, what a great fuckin’ dream!

Then she froze. Her excited expression wilted. A second later she withdrew and sat back on the passenger side.

“What’s wrong?” Sutter nearly bellowed.

Her breasts and shoulders slumped when she let out a long, frustrated breath. “Dang it, Mr. Chief! I’se forgot. . . .”

“Forgot what?” Chief Sutter shouted.

“We cain’t do this.”

“Why?”

“Cos I’se only fifteen years old, like I told ya today. You’re a police officer ‘n’ I’m a minor.” She shook her head, smiling innocently. “It was silly a’ me ta even think this.” And then she opened the door and began to get out of the car.

Sutter’s lips twisted up into queer shape as he tried to form words for his objection. Finally, he managed to bark out, “Wait a minute, honey! We can! It don’t matter that you’re a minor because this is just a dream!”

She looked back into the car, magnificent breasts swaying. “Aw, no, Mr. Chief. It’d still be immoral ‘cos you’d feel really bad about it once ya woke up.”

“No, I wouldn’t!” he assured her.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure ya would, ‘n’ I cain’t have that It’d make me feel guilty.”

Sutter shouted again, “You can’t feel guilty! You’re just an image in a dream! My dream!”

“Naw, naw, still wouldn’t be right,” she said. Her face perked up. “But I’ll tell ya what! You just wait three years when I’m eighteen and then have this dream again! We’ll have a fine time! I promise!”

And then she closed the door.

Sutter lay back in the seat, on the verge of tears. What a fuckin’ ripoff. . . .

She came around the other side for one last tease. Perfect legs parted, her perfect elbows planted on the edge of his open window, perfect breasts still swaying, still shining from all that desiring sweat. “But lemme give ya a peck on the cheek, okay?” she said. “I’se pretty dang sure that ain’t against the law.”

Well, it was better than nothing, wasn’t it?

She leaned over further, bringing her head into the car, and just as she would kiss him on the cheek—

Whup . . .

—her head fell off her shoulders and landed in Chief Sutter’s lap.

A sound screamed through his head like a jet turbine, and suddenly he was falling through darkness, and after what seemed hours of falling, falling, falling—

—he awoke in a tumult on his bed.

Oh , God . . .

His heart thunked in his chest; he thought of an old engine trying to restart. His eyes hurt as he stared after the nightmare, and the inside of his mouth tasted rancid. What a ripoff , he thought again. Why should his subconscious produce such a dream, such intense erotic images, only to leave him unfulfilled?

He winced.

Unfulfilled and with a severed head in his lap.