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"Morning Mom," said Chris as he walked into the kitchen.

Heather, Chris' mother, turned and inspected her son with a grin on her face. "Well don't you look nice," she said.

"Oh yeah, just great," said Chris sarcastically. He laid the electronic PDA that he was carrying on the breakfast bar and then he turned about a couple of times with his arms out flung to show off his work clothes. He was wearing the uniform of a local delivery service. The tan safari shirt and shorts he was sporting were accented with red lettering and stripes. The clothes were meant to be loose fitting and comfortable, but they looked as if they were painted onto Chris' well-muscled physique.

Swaying her hips suggestively, Heather walked over to her son. She rested her hand on the swollen head of Chris' cock where it stuck above the waistband of his shorts and said, "Now this part of your appearance may not fit Mrs. Smith's Delivery Service's rules of dress."

Chris smiled as his mother rubbed the head of his cock as if she were polishing a wooden knob and said, "I sort of woke up with a problem this morning and it won't go away."

Heather snorted. "You seem to have this problem at all times of the day and night, and as much as I'd like to help you, I don't want you to be late for your first day of work." Chris had turned eighteen and this was to be his first day of work at a summer job before he started college.

Chris shook his head. "I've got plenty of time." He picked up the PDA. "All I have to do is sign in on this thing - it has a wireless Internet connection - and it tells the company that I'm ready to go. After that, they send me instructions. It even has a GPS receiver to tell them where I am."

Heather smiled and squeezed Chris' cock. "Isn't high tech wonderful?" she said. She smiled into his bedroom eyes. "It'll give us time for an early fuck."

Heather was wearing a fluffy cotton bathrobe, and from long experience Chris knew that the robe would be the only thing she was wearing. He parted the top of the robe and cupped her full breasts in the palms of his hands, at the same time he strummed her nipples with his thumbs.

Heather shrugged off her robe and tossed it over a nearby stool. She grabbed her son's cock and pulled him across the kitchen where she hopped up onto a counter and spread her legs. Chris pushed his shorts and underpants down just in time for a gush of precum to wash over the head of his cock. He lubricated two of his fingers with the clear liquid and deftly spread it on the inner lips of his mother's pussy. He kissed her tenderly and Heather responded by wrapping her arms around his neck and thrusting her tongue into his mouth. In a couple of minutes Chris could tell by his mother's eager lips and rapid breathing that she had become as hot and horny as he had been since he'd awakened.

Heather sighed as Chris sunk the first half-dozen inches of his huge cock into her pussy. She leaned back against a cabinet and swayed her hips in time to his thrusts. She loved the way her son's cock filled her completely. It made her clit vibrate and massaged her g-spot at the same time. She began to orgasm almost immediately. Chris felt the pulling contractions of Heather's pussy around his cock. There was no reason for him to hold back so he began to fuck faster and faster.

Heather was in the middle of yet another extended cum when she saw Chris' eyes glaze over and his back start to arch. She knew that in another second or two cum would be squirting out of her pussy, coating her legs an probably dripping all over Chris' shorts. "Chris, honey," she said. "Don't cum inside me and make a mess."

"Uhhh.OK," was all he could manage to say as Chris withdrew his cock. With his shorts tight around the bulging muscles of his legs, Chris had to waddle backwards to escape from between his mother's thighs. His hand automatically began to jerk along the length of his erection as he sought some place to cum that wouldn't mean a long and messy clean up operation. He got turned toward the kitchen sink just as the first shot of milky- white stuff erupted from his cock, arced through the air and landed with a splat on target.

That shot was followed by a dozen others and then Chris had to take little waddling baby steps ever closer to the sink as the volume and velocity of his ejaculations began to lessen. Finally Chris' cock was over the sink itself and he ran his hand down the length of his jutting monster in order to milk out the last dollop of cum. Even that last drop was more than an ordinary man would have produced altogether.

Chris grabbed a paper towel and began to clean off his wilting cock. He heard a sort of choking sound from the other side of the kitchen, and when he turned he saw his mother with her hand clasped over her mouth. She looked as though she was having some sort of fit. "Are you alright?" he asked.

His mother removed her hand and burst out in a fit of giggles. "You looked so funny," she gasped between fits of laughter, "waddling around like that, looking for someplace to shoot off." Now she practically cackled.

"Ha, ha, very funny," said Chris. He grabbed the sink's rinse hose and threatened his mother with its business end.

"Don't you dare," she said, trying unsuccessfully to sound like a stern parent. "I have to get ready for work." She jumped off the counter, grabbed her robe, and headed for the door to their dining room. The sight of his mother's tight, heart-shaped buns was too tempting a target though. Chris got her in the rear with a blast of cold water just as she was leaving the kitchen. Heather shrieked and ran from the room.

Chris finished cleaning the sink and checked in for work on his PDA. Immediately he was directed to a supermarket where he picked up several bags of groceries for a Mrs. Brown, who lived on the well-to-do side of town. He grabbed the keys for his company delivery van and headed out.

Chris turned off the residential road onto a paved drive that wound its way along side an acre-sized lawn. He pulled to the rear of a two-story house that looked large enough to hold most of the residents of his middleclass neighborhood. With his arms full of grocery bags, Chris walked to the delivery door and rang the bell. Shortly, a stooped little old lady who was wearing a cotton print dress and crisp apron answered the door. "I'm Mrs. Brown," she said. "Please come in."

Chris entered an immaculate kitchen and placed the groceries on an island counter in the center of the room. "Now it will just take me a minute to check the order," said Mrs. Brown. She slowly began to examine the contents of the bags.

Chris took one look at Mrs. Brown's arthritic hands as she struggled to lift a heavy can from one of the bags and he jumped to help. "Why don't you check off the items as I put them away for you?" he said.

"That's very nice of you," said Mrs. Brown. They chatted as Mrs. Brown verified her order and Chris put the groceries in their proper place in the nearby pantry. In the manner of sweet little old ladies everywhere she managed to learn his name, where he'd gone to grade school and where he was going to college, as well as his mother's name and the name of her business.

When they were finished she said, "Wait right here, Chris. I'll be back in a minute." As she departed the kitchen into a short hallway a man passed her coming the other way. He was a pear shaped guy in his mid-twenties with spiky, blonde tipped hair and several earrings. "Chris, this is my grandson, Victor," Mrs. Brown called over her shoulder.

"Hi," said Chris.

"Hi," said Victor, and that was the extent of their conversation. An awkward silence ensued that was relieved only when Mrs. Brown returned.

"Here you are," she said, giving Chris a twenty-dollar bill.

Chris looked at the money. "You don't have to pay me, I'm sure the company bills you for the service."

Mrs. Brown laughed. "Don't be silly, it's your tip."

"Oh, thanks very much," said Chris, feeling a bit foolish as he put away the bill.

As Chris left her home, Mrs. Brown said, "You're a sweet boy, Chris. I'll be sure to ask for you next time."

He worked steadily through the day until about four when his PDA told Chris to report to Mrs. Smith at her office. Mrs. Smith's Delivery Service was housed in a nondescript one-story brick building. Most of the building was a warehouse fronted by a customer entrance and service counter. Chris parked his delivery van in the company lot and walked into the warehouse through the employee's entrance. Mrs. Smith's office was a walled off section of the warehouse, and when Chris knocked on the door he had to wait for a buzz to tell him that an electrically actuated lock had been opened.

Mrs. Smith was actually June Smith, a woman around forty years of age. She was tall and slim and wore her blonde hair in a business-like perm. Her very neatly arranged desk dominated the small office. When Chris entered she smiled at him and said, "Hello Chris, how did your first day go?"

"Hi," said Chris. "It went OK, I guess. There's nothing wrong is there?" He wondered if he'd screwed up someone's delivery.

June came from around her desk. She was wearing a navy blue, sleeveless dress with matching pumps. She motioned to a chair at the side of the desk. "No, nothing's wrong. Please have a seat."

Chris sat in the chair and June perched on the edge of the desk with her legs crossed. Her knees were practically under Chris' nose. They chatted for few minutes about Chris' day. He plastered a polite smile on his face and did his best to keep eye contact with June and not peek up her skirt.

As June spoke, one of her pumps slipped off her heel and dangled on her toes. She bounced her foot up and down to emphasize certain points in the conversation and pretty soon the shoe flipped into the air and wound up on the floor. Chris politely bent over to retrieve her shoe, but June stuck her bare foot on his leg and said, "Never mind, I'll get it later." Her foot remained firmly planted on Chris' leg.

June cleared her throat and said, "Chris I know this is just a summer job for you, but there are a couple of things you can keep in mind to advance yourself around here." Chris raised his eyebrows as if to ask what she meant, and June continued, "You can be a conscientious worker, and you can make me happy." As she slid her foot onto Chris' crotch she said, "These two goals are not mutually inclusive, if you know what I mean."

It wasn't the first time that Chris had thought he was being seduced. And there wasn't much doubt in his mind about it now. June's toes were kneading his cock into a nice erection. Chris ran his fingertips up and down June's calf and said, "Well I think I know how to do a good job, but how do I make you happy."

She uncrossed her legs and spread them as wide as her dress would allow. She sighed and said, "Do what you're doing now, just do it a little higher." Chris' fingers roamed higher to the inside of her thighs and then onto the crotch band of her panties. She wiggled her ass on the desk, signaling Chris to move on.

He obliged by standing and giving June a big wet kiss that she eagerly returned. Their tongues played around as Chris pulled her panties aside and slid two fingers into June's pussy. Chris wrapped an arm around her back and cupped a strong hand over her breast. He continued to finger fuck her until June's moans and clenching pussy told him that she was about to orgasm. At that point he stepped back. He was horny as hell and he needed that wet pussy for his aching cock.

June looked at him with lust-glazed eyes and said, "I guess you want to fuck me now."

He smiled and assured her, "Oh yeah."

June kicked off her other shoe and pulled down her panties. As she pulled her dress up around her waist she said, "OK, let's see what you got."

Chris knew how to let his cock make an entrance. He unfastened his shorts and then hooked his thumbs inside his shorts and underwear. He bent slightly at the waist and then in one motion he swept down his clothing and thrust out his hips. His huge cock sprang free of his clothing and thwacked into the side of June's leg.

She looked down in surprise and gasped, "Oh my god, what a cock!" She reached out and poked her finger at the long, thick shaft. "Is that for real?"

"It's real and it's really yours," said Chris. He bent his cock down and rubbed the head across June's clit and swollen pussy lips. He gave a little push and the head slipped into her slick opening.

June leaned backwards, until her hands supported her torso on the desktop. She watched as Chris slipped less than half his cock into her extended pussy and then she couldn't take it any more. "Oh fuck me with it now," she urged him.

Chris obliged. He humped her with a long smooth stroke that he knew he could keep up forever. June lay down on her desk with her eyes closed. She put the tip of one finger in her mouth and sucked on it like a little girl, and every few seconds her body would twitch or writhe about. Then her hips and thighs began to tremble and Chris felt her pussy muscles clamp around his cock.

June did a sort of involuntary half sit-up off her desk, and Chris could see the outline of her straining stomach muscles. She made wheezing, gasping noises for almost a minute and then she collapsed onto the desk once more. There's one orgasm, Chris thought as he continued his machine like stroke. He kept it up until he knew that his boss was one very, very happy employer.

**

A week later Chris returned to Mrs. Brown's home with another load of groceries. After the food was all put away, Mrs. Brown said, "Do you have a minute to help my grandson with something?"

Chris shrugged. "Yes Ma'am, I guess so."

"He said that he needed help moving some furniture in one of the upstairs rooms," Mrs. Brown said as she led him to the foot of a flight of stairs. It'll be one of the rooms in the right wing. I'd show you, but I can't climb these stairs any more."

"I'm sure I can find it," said Chris as he started up the wide, curving staircase.

He turned right at the top of the stairs and started down a hallway that was lined with doors on either side. Midway down the hall he heard hip-hop music coming from an open door. Chris tapped on the doorframe and called out, "Hello?"

A good-looking woman in her early twenties appeared in the doorway. "Hi," she said with a smile.

"Oh, hey," said Chris. "I was looking for Victor? Mrs. Brown said he needed some help moving furniture."

"Oh you just missed him. He may not be back for an hour or so. I'm Angela," she said as she stuck out her hand. Angela was barely five feet tall and looked as if she might weigh a hundred pounds after a heavy meal. She was wearing hip-hugger shorts that had about an inch of inseam. Her sleeveless, knit top showed off her tanned shoulders and a bare midriff.

Chris' hand engulfed her tiny, soft one as they shook. "I'm Chris," he said.

She gestured into the room. "Since you're here, we could try to move this stuff. Victor assumed I was too small to help."

Chris stepped past Angela into the room. It contained a large canopy-bed and several pieces of matching furniture. The source of the music that he had heard in the hallway was a boom box situated on an ornate desk in a corner of the room. Both the music and its player seemed wildly out of place in the room full of elegant antique furniture.

"What did you want to move?" Chris asked.

Angela pointed to a chest of drawers. "I'd like to move that about four feet down that wall, and then move that vanity over in its place."

The chest of drawers looked substantial, but Chris and Angela - Chris mostly - shoved it into place without strain. The vanity, even with its attached mirror, was much lighter and they carried it across the room easily. "Well, not much to that," said Chris.

Angela laughed and said, "I guess not, especially when you've got muscles likes these." She tried unsuccessfully to squeeze Chris' bicep. "I guess it's silly to ask if you work out a lot."

Chris smiled as he did what all men do when a pretty woman touches their upper arms; he flexed his bicep into hard muscle. "I play a lot of sports. I guess I stay in pretty good shape."

Angela caressed the exposed skin of his thigh and said, "I can believe it. I've never felt such hard muscles."

Chris knew a leading line when he heard one. "Feel a little higher, it gets even harder."

Angela moved her hand upward until it found Chris' rapidly expanding cock. "Nice and thick too," she said. She slid her probing fingers along the length of Chris' cock as it began to reach its full potential. She moved her hand hesitantly; she couldn't believe what she was finding. Finally, her hand bumped into the bulging cock head. She cupped her hand around it like it was a rubber ball sitting in his pocket. "And so long.and so much thicker," she said in a husky voice.

"Would you like to see this uh.well developed muscle?" asked Chris.

"Oh yes," breathed Angela.

Chris pulled down his shorts and underwear. His not quite fully hard cock sort of rolled from one side of his body to the other. Then it lifted and straightened so that its head bobbed in the air at the same height as Angela's breasts.

"Oh wow," she said as one of her tiny hands held the pulsing shaft steady. She had only to bend her head to kiss the tip, and then she spread her lips and worked the spongy head into her mouth. There was no chance that she was going to get more of his big cock in her mouth. All she could do was twist and bob her head from one side to the other, but Chris made it obvious that he loved it.

"Mmmm.baby, that feels so good," he moaned. Chris ran his fingers through Angela's hair and then down her cheek and neck and on to her breasts. He cupped and caressed her tits. He could feel her nipples responding as they grew more pronounced against the palm of his hand.

Chris was thinking seriously about cumming in her mouth, when Angela lifted her head and grabbed his cock with both hands. She gave it a good tug and said, "Let's fuck on the bed."

"Sounds good to me," said Chris. He nearly fell on his face when he tried to pull off his shorts and to follow Angela over to the giant bed at the same time. Angela was naked on her hands and knees in the center of crisp, white sheets when Chris crawled onto the bed behind her. Her hips were already eagerly thrusting back and forth in the air. Chris had to steady her so that could slide his massive cock into her pussy. He had barely worked his cock head past her pussy lips, when Angela shoved her ass backwards and practically impaled herself on his cock. He didn't even have to move as she bucked and shoved her dripping pussy around on his rock-hard dick.

Angela reached out a hand and grabbed one of the bed pillows. She buried her face in its softness, and a second later Chris heard a muffled, high pitched wailing as Angela came. After a lengthy orgasm she came up for air and renewed her attempt to stuff even more of Chris' thick shaft into her pussy. She made little grunting sounds and then buried her face again for more screaming climaxes.

Chris didn't want to cum inside of the young woman, but every time he tried to pull away Angela just moved with him and clamped her pussy muscles around him like a fist. Finally, Chris went over the edge and began to gush shot after shot of hot cum. His cock swelled and there wasn't any place for the milky-white stuff to go but to roll out of Angela's stuffed pussy and down her legs.

After they'd spent themselves, Chris and Angela fell over sideways on the bed. When they'd caught their breath Chris looked over her shoulder and saw Angela swirling her finger in the pool of their sex juices that had stained the pristine sheet. "Sorry I made such a mess," he said.

Angela scooped up some of the slick stuff in her fingers and let it drip off her fingers. "That's OK," she said dreamily. "You know, if Victor came three times a day for a week, he couldn't produce this much jism."

"Oh," was all that Chris could respond to that statement. He reluctantly got off the bed. "I guess I better get going," he said as he began to dress. "Mrs. Brown might wonder what's taking so long."

That seemed to jolt Angela. She sat up and said, "Look, don't mention me to Mrs. Brown. She doesn't approve of me being up here. I have to sneak in and out using the back stairs."

Chris shrugged, "That's cool with me."

He made his way downstairs where Mrs. Brown shoved a fifty-dollar bill into his hands. Chris protested that it was too much, but Mrs. Brown said, "You're a good boy, Chris. I'm sure that you performed your services well."

Chris beamed at the elderly woman. "Yeah, I had an impressive output up there."

Late in the afternoon of the next day Chris was resting at home after work. He had shed his tight uniform for the sloppiest clothes he owned, a triple extra-large sweatshirt and matching baggy sweatpants. He was watching TV when the doorbell rang. Chris went to the door and peeked out. He saw an attractive woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties with ash blonde hair. She was wearing a tailored business suit and she had a seriously heavy- duty bag slung over one shoulder. Chris assumed she was one of his mother's business associates.

He opened the door and said, "Hi, Mom's not home right now. Do you want to wait, or can I help you with something?"

"Is your name Chris?" she asked. Chris nodded and watched as the woman reached into her bag and pulled out a black leather wallet. She flipped it open to reveal a badge and photo-Id. "I'm Sergeant Glasson, and I'd like to ask you a few questions, please."

Chris couldn't imagine what the police wanted him for, but he invited the sergeant inside. They settled down in the living room and she pulled out a small notebook. "You work for Mrs. Smith's Delivery Service, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Would you please go over the stops you made yesterday for me?" she asked.

Chris took a deep breath and after a little thought he covered, as best he could, his previous day's work. He told the sergeant everything he could remember except for the part about having sex with Angela. He didn't think it was necessary to bring that up.

When Chris finished, Sergeant Glasson looked over her notes for a half-minute and then said, "Would you mind coming with me? I'd like to go into more detail about something with you."

Chris shrugged. "OK, but can't you tell me what this is about?"

They were in the sergeant's car before she began to answer his question. "About five o'clock yesterday we got a call from Victor Brown. He said that his grandmother had been attacked in her home. She was dead when the medics got there."

"Oh no!" said Chris, disbelief in his voice. "She was such a nice old lady."

"Of course we're interviewing everyone who was near Mrs. Brown's home yesterday," said Glasson. "We saw a receipt for some groceries on her kitchen table and that lead to you."

Chris thought that over for a minute and said, "Then you must have gone to where I work. I'm sure they gave you a record of everywhere I went yesterday and what time I was there. So why did you ask me what I did yesterday?" It dawned on Chris immediately why she would ask those questions. "Hey, you don't think I killed her?"

The sergeant's face remained carefully neutral as she said, "We're just doing interviews right now." The ride continued in silence until they pulled to the rear of the Brown home. When they emerged from the car, she said, "Why don't we start with where you parked and exactly what you did while you were here?"

Chris nervously began to walk through his visit on the previous day. After he showed the sergeant where he had stored the groceries at Mrs. Brown's direction, he took Glasson upstairs and into the room where he had been with Angela. Chris looked around and said, "Hey now, this isn't the way I left it. Someone's put the furniture back." He pointed out the two pieces of furniture that he had helped to move. "That vanity was over there, and that chest of drawers was back over here."

"OK," said Glasson. She looked around the room. "After you moved the furniture, what happened, you left?"

Chris decided that, at this point, full disclosure was in his best interest. "No, I didn't leave right then, we.uh.we had sex first."

"Oh really?" said the sergeant, disbelief dripping from her voice.

"It can happen," said Chris in his own defense. "Strangers meet somewhere and hit it off. Nothing really weird about that."

"Yes, I'm sure it happens. But you have to see how your story looks to me." She flipped through the pages of her notebook. "From the records at your company I know that you picked up some groceries and brought them here. You were here from three thirty-seven yesterday until four twenty-nine. I can believe that you ate up some of that time by storing away those groceries for Mrs. Brown. But now, according to you, after helping Mrs. Brown, you moved some furniture that has now been mysteriously replaced. This takes place in a room that doesn't look as if it's been used in quite a while. And just when it might appear to you that you haven't accounted for all your time, you tell me that you had sex with a stranger."

Chris moaned. "Hell, when you put it that way, even I don't believe it happened. But it did, I swear."

Glasson walked over to the king sized bed in the center of the room. "You did it here I suppose?" She was nodding at the bed.

Chris joined her at the bed. "Yeah, only this thing was pulled down." He grabbed the duvet that was covering the bed and swept it to the foot of the mattress revealing wrinkle-free, crisp sheets.

Glasson glanced at the surface of the mattress and then looked back to Chris. "No one's been on these sheets."

"Angela said that she would clean up our mess. I'm sure she put down fresh sheets," he explained.

"Left a wet spot, did you?" asked Glasson.

"Well," said Chris, "when I.uh.finish, there's usually a puddle of.uh.stuff."

"A puddle," said Glasson. She turned to Chris and planted her hands on her hips, shook her hair back and thrust out her breasts.

Clearly she was waiting for Chris to carry on. To either incriminate himself further, or to somehow prove what he was saying. Chris said, "Listen, women find me attractive. In fact a lot of them think I'm a stud. I've got a great bod'." He looked down and suddenly realized that his loose fitting sweats made him look like a formless lump. So he grabbed the front of his sweatshirt and pulled it over his head.

Glasson forgot about her role as the impersonal interrogator as she gave Chris the once over. He had broad shoulders and a chest to match, impressively muscled arms and a washboard stomach above a relatively tiny waist. Something else impressive about the young man was the bulge in his pants. A bulge that seemed to start somewhere near one of his knees!

Chris saw the sergeant's eyes widen in surprise, and knew that we has on the right track. He hadn't put on any underwear when he'd changed clothes that afternoon after work, and he could tell that she liked the little show that he was making. He gave the sergeant a sexy smile and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants. He pushed down his sweats until he was showing about six inches of thick cock shaft, and then he slowly began to reveal more of his monster cock one inch at a time.

Glasson held her breath as she watched Chris expose more and more and even more cock. She had almost convinced herself that she was seeing some sort of optical illusion, when his cock sprang free from its confinement and soundly thwacked Chris in the stomach. She followed his bobbing cock hypnotically as Chris walked behind her and slipped her suit coat off her shoulders. The material of her blouse was an off-white silk that felt great as Chris slid the head of his cock around on it. He found the short zipper on her skirt and in a second it was lying on the floor at her feet.

Chris slipped his hands under her blouse and cupped Glasson's full breasts in his palms. He could feel her nipples harden through her seamless bra. He nuzzled and kissed her neck and said, "See? It's not so hard to believe that I could have sex with someone I just met."

"I'm beginning to believe you," she said in a husky voice.

Chris slid the cups of Glasson's bra off her breasts and played with her nipples between his fingers. Locked together, they fell on the bed with Chris' rock-hard arms wrapped around her soft curves. He slid one hand across Glasson's flat stomach and slipped his fingers into her pantyhose. In another second his fingers were busy making little circles on her clit.

Chris decided that it was time to do something for him. He maneuvered his hips until he could drive the head of his cock between the sergeant's legs. The touch of her slick pantyhose didn't compare to the feel of a slippery, hot pussy, but it would do. Chris dipped his finger into her wet cunt and began to pump it.

"Oh, yeah," moaned Glasson as Chris managed to titillate her nipples, her clit and her g-spot in different sensual combinations. The spongy head of his cock played peek-a- boo as it appeared and disappeared from between her thighs. She wondered if he could feel the muscles in her legs quiver as she began to cum.

Glasson was a writhing, squirming handful as Chris brought her to one orgasm after another. Her thighs felt like two silk-lined vibrators on the head of his cock. Vibrators that were about to trigger a flood from his swollen balls. Chris thrust his hips forward and suddenly it looked as if Glasson had sprouted an enormous cock from her crotch.

As Chris thrust and rubbed his cock head on the bed, he poured shot after shot of milky cum onto the sheets. As he caught his breath after his cock had finally emptied itself, Chris heard the sergeant whisper, "Oh shit, there really is a puddle of it."

Ten minutes later the couple was dressed. Chris sat on the edge of the bed and watched as the sergeant paced from one side of the room to the other. Finally she stopped and faced Chris, "OK," she said, "this is what we'll try."

The following week Chris pulled his delivery van into a parking space at a strip mall. The mall was anchored by a couple of big box stores at either end with a number of smaller stores in between. Chris stuck a package under his arm and headed for women's discount clothing store.

The store was packed with racks and racks of trendy, but cheap clothing for young women. As he entered, Chris saw a couple of employees hanging up even more merchandise, a couple of shoppers and a young woman behind a counter tapping away at a keyboard. As Chris approached, she looked up.

"Well, hey Angela. How are you?" said Chris with a big grin on his face. "I didn't know you worked here."

At first she looked startled, but then Angela managed something of a smile. "Oh, hi," she said. "I'm good. Uh.how are you?"

Chris laid the package on the counter. He entered the package number into his PDA and then produced a clipboard for her to sign. "I'm great," he said, his grin morphing into a sexy smile as he looked around the store. "Do you need me to uh.move any furniture for you? That was a great time we had the other afternoon."

Angela shook her head, signed the clipboard and thrust it back into Chris' hand. "I think all of our furnishings are just where they need to be."

"Are you sure?" Chris asked. "I could take my lunch break and we could do some rearranging in a backroom or something."

Angela chewed on her lip in indecision for a second and then she shook her head again. "We better not, that was a kind of a one time thing, you know?"

Chris fumbled at his crotch and the head of his erect cock popped above the waistband of his uniform shorts. "Oh, come on," said Chris. "Just looking at you has me all worked up."

Angela gazed longingly at the blood engorged head of Chris' cock and then she took a quick look around the store. "Mary," she called out. One of the women who were putting out stock looked up. Angela picked up the package that Chris had brought in and waved it in the air. She said, "I'll be in the office for a few minutes. We may have to refuse this." Mary nodded her head that she understood. Chris discreetly held his PDA in front of his waist as he followed Angela to the rear of the store.

They entered a combination storage room and office. Angela locked the door and then tossed the package on a cluttered desk. Chris barely had time to lay his PDA on the desk when Angela wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his lips to hers. She opened her lips and thrust her tongue into Chris' mouth. She had gone from being reluctant to aggressive in an instant.

When they broke their kiss, Angela pulled off the slim miniskirt that she had been wearing and threw it on the desk along with her panties. She shifted her weight from one foot the other in nervous anticipation as she watched Chris slowly lower his uniform shorts and then his underwear. He gave his rigid pole a few strokes and said, "I guess you're still seeing Victor?"

"Yeah, well, lots of money there," she said eyeing the precum that was oozing from Chris' cock.

"And you're not afraid of losing your sugar-daddy if he should catch you fooling around?" asked Chris with a grin.

Angela turned and put her hands on the desk. She spread her legs and waved her firm butt and glistening pussy at Chris. "Hell, he wants me to fool around. He was there the other day when we were fucking."

"What?" said Chris in surprise.

Angela looked back over her shoulder. "Will you please put that thing in my pussy? We haven't got all day."

Chris had to really spread his legs and bend his cock down to get it down to Angela's pussy level. But all he had to do was barely begin to slide the head past her pussy lips when Angela shoved her ass backwards, and stuffed in a large chunk of his cock meat. "Yeah," she sighed, "Victor loves to watch. He was in the next room, watching through a crack in the paneling. In fact, that's why we moved the furniture. It let him watch us directly and in the mirror too. I think he'd rather jerk off than fuck."

"So it was you, me and Victor who were in the house just before Mrs. Brown was killed," said Chris.

Angela stopped in mid-cock stroke. "Yeah, I guess so," she spoke hesitantly. "But of course you left, and then I left and Victor told me that he ran out to get something at the store. When he came back, she was dead."

"Ah, said Chris, and then, "oh yeah, baby," as Angela doubled the energy she was putting into her squirming ass. Chris felt her cum once and then twice, and he was about to do it himself when there was a loud rapping on the office door.

"I'll be there in a minute," Angela gasped out.

"Police," said a feminine voice. "I need you to open the door now."

Chris and Angela scrambled back into their clothes amidst more rapping and banging. When they were decent, Angela unlocked and opened the door. Sergeant Glasson and two uniformed officers came into the room. "Oh, hi, Sergeant," said Angela. "What brings you back?"

"Angela, I'd like for you to come down to the precinct. I have some more questions for you," said Glasson.

"OK," said Angela. "Let me get my purse." She gave Chris a worried glance, and she looked shaken and confused as she left with the two uniformed officers.

When they were alone, Chris said, "Did you get what you needed?"

Glasson picked up the PDA and tapped on the lens to a TV camera that was disguised to look like an on-off button. "The picture was kind of distorted, but we got it all on tape. Victor claims that he was with some of his buddies the afternoon of the murder. It'll be interesting to see what he says about this."

Chris smiled. "Did you and your uniformed friends like our little porn exhibition?"

Glasson smiled back. "The uniforms thought that Angela was too skinny for their tastes, but they couldn't get over the size of your cock. They decided that it must be the camera lens that made it look so big. I didn't bother to set them straight."

Chris stuck his hands into his shorts and adjusted his privates. "It's too bad you guys couldn't have waited another minute. Now my balls are going to ache for the rest of the day."

Glasson looked into Chris' smiling eyes and then at his bulging crotch. She closed and locked the office door and then she said, "I guess I can do something to help out a cooperative citizen."


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