| Oyster Gulch, Chapter 6 It was retribution. What Deputy Perkins was doing to the over excited redhead was exactly the same torture Heather had unknowingly inflicted on her attorney four or five hours before. She, of the multiple piercings, was studying the prisoner's snatch as if she was going to be asked to draw it from memory. The added and nearly intolerable addition to the inspection was the repeated flexing of the deputy's thumbs. Each time Emily Perkins pulled upward on the seated woman's flooded vulva, the flap of skin that mostly hid her pearl was retracted. The maddeningly gentle stimulation of her most sensitive part was causing unbearable pressure in her pelvis. She wanted to do something to relieve the strain but she was using both her arms to hold herself up. Just when she was sure she was going to die from the frustration the kneeling cop got her fill of the visual stimulation and decided to satisfy another of her senses; taste. Hank Logan, her husband, was not a fan of cunnilingus. He did it on occasion, but not being highly motivated he also wasn't very good at it. Heather had a brief experience with Sarah Duggan but it was too short to really be able to appreciate the dyke's talent. Her exposure to the art of female oral-genital stimulation up to this point had been ... misleading. She was about to become spoiled by a true aficionado of the art. Emily moved the tip of her firm tongue around the slickly coated vulva, taking care not to actually touch the prisoner's clit. The kneeling deputy's tongue felt so hot and the surge that shot up from her belly made her think she was gonna cum. If the cop had let her exploring tongue engage the distended jellybean, she probably would have. The all but naked officer was a master at sensing her partner's level of arousal and prolonging pleasure. Alternating between a relaxed tongue and a flexed one she carefully teased and stimulated every inch of the flowing crease except its bulging focal point. Heather felt as though she were surfing. She had never engaged in the sport but she imagined that this is what it felt like. The woman's tongue seemed to lift her to the top of a wave of pure erotic pleasure and hold her there. She was at a level of arousal that she had never previously been able to sustain. Whenever she'd reached this point by her own hand she had invariably lost control and driven herself immediately over the edge. She rarely achieved this state with her husband and only lover prior to being arrested. If she was able to get this excited with Hank she would try to hurry and climax before he did. She knew that once he unloaded, as far as he was concerned, it was over regardless of where she was on the sexual satisfaction scale. She had never experienced this kind of ecstasy for more than a few seconds at most and actually had no idea it was even possible to maintain the all encompassing joy. The accomplished pussy licker tuned her receptive antenna to the redhead's reactions. The trick was to keep her lover riding the wave, but unlike surfing not come to a gliding anticlimactic stop on the foam. Miz Perkins was aware that you could push it too far and get into a stall; that would keep the thunderous release she intended to provide out of reach. When she was sure the prisoner was riding smoothly it was safe to bump and flick the clit once in a while with the tip of her tongue or the hard stainless steel ball. Each contact with the hypersensitive nub had a ratchet effect, raising Heater to an ever higher plateau. The signal was when the clitty flicks no longer seemed to cause an increase in Caitie's mom's state of excitement. It told the finely attuned Sheriff's deputy that she'd reached the limit. The next few seconds were critical. Increasing frequency of clitoral stimulation and wide variance of all her other lapping motions never allowing the woman's vulva to get bored. As the pièce de résistance Emily inserted three fingers into the seeping orifice and hooked them upward to engage the previously unexplored 'G' spot and simultaneously sucked on the magnificent pearl of a pleasure center. Heather felt like a giant catapult had launched her into space. She had never experienced extreme G-force except maybe on a roller coaster fifteen or twenty years ago, but she would later think that that was the closest analogous sensation she could imagine. It was like extreme acceleration, like your body was very suddenly traveling so fast that your insides couldn't keep up; like a jet taking off from the deck of an aircraft carrier, like an elevator in free fall, the cause was actually similar. So much blood was rushing away from the brain that consciousness itself was threatened. The busty redhead did not actually pass-out but it was as close as she'd ever come to it. When her insides caught up to the rest of her body she plunged from a great height into a hot tub. The feeling of total release brought with it numbness. Her tactile nerves had completely shutdown as she now floated in a calm sea of endorphins. Fortunately, for the back of her head, the muscle contractions that were an integral part of her orgasm caused the prisoner to pitch forward. Had she gone the other way she would have pounded her head into the steel bars. Instead of straightening and going rigid she hunched and then collapsed to her left side. The kneeling deputy stroked her hip as she lay gasping and moaning. Slowly, very slowly, her mind began to clear. Heather felt as if she'd been on an extended trip outside her cell; hell, off the planet when she regained her senses. The multiply pierced face of the young woman beside her cot was smiling down at her. "Sarah said you came like 'gang busters'" her latest lesbian lover commented. Somewhere deep, deep in her old brain she thought she should be embarrassed 'How much did they talk about me?' her Rawlins brain asked, but the question seemed to evaporate in the misty after glow. The thought that asserted itself was the intriguing jewelry she'd glimpsed attached to the cops labia. If the thought of a sharp object near her boobs sent shivers, then a needle near her pussy was absolutely unimaginable. She was fascinated to see the genital adornment. Her muscles felt like Jell-O as she raised herself back to a sitting position. Emily's smile had not so much faded as it had morphed into a more lusty expression. Heather felt like the dark eyes were pleading with her. The inmate reached down and explored the unimaginable nipple piercings. "Oh ... oh fuck I'm gonna explode" Oyster Gulch's resident Goth moaned as she rose to her feet. The seated woman's hands were unable to follow the bouncy targets but she was soon distracted from even trying by the transparent black panties and their precious cargo which presented a foot from her face. The deputy wasted no time in pulling her panties down and kicking them to the side. When miz Perkins pulled up on the plump flesh of her mons Heather got a detailed view of the crotch decoration. It was a round horseshoe; the gap at the bottom was framed by two very tiny balls. Caitlin's mother tried to imagine the precision it took in the placement of the needle to get those little balls so perfectly positioned atop the protruding glans of the deputy's clit. Thinking about the puncturing tool used to create the hole for the jewelry made her shudder. "Play with it" Emily said, and if it weren't for the throaty pleading quality it could have been construed as a command. Heather flicked the open ring up and it fell back down immediately bumping the firm pearly nubbin. The deputy's sharp intake of breath persuaded her to repeat the action several times. Each impact caused the young woman standing in front of her to grunt. She'd been so captivated by the piercing that at first she didn't even notice the birds of prey that appeared to be preparing to dive on the shaven snapper. The swooping foul were etched into the cops skin just below the bikini line. The prisoner had her eyes on the art work at the moment Emily decided she was beyond the point of no return. The Goth's fingers laced into the seated woman's red curls and pulled her head forward, mashing her surprised face into the slick slippery sauce while she wailed "oh fuck ... lick it ... suck it!" Heather thought she could have done a better job if she'd had more freedom of movement but Emily held her fast against her spongy kitty, grinding her pussy against the neophyte lesbian's face. She did manage to stick her tongue into the hot groove and wiggle it just inside the vestibule before she felt the officer shudder and release her head. Deputy Perkins jerked a couple of times and then started putting her clothes back on. The last part had gone so fast that the inmate was stunned by her lover's sudden rush. Deputy Perkins was pulling on her uniform pants when she finally spoke "I gotta get back out there ... if the Sheriff ever found out I was in here when I was on duty ... well let's just say it wouldn't be good." Brenda had a larger strap-on that she used for more serious offences like dereliction of duty. Emily could almost feel the large bumpy tool invading her rectum as she refastened the duty belt and exited the cell. She slid the door closed with a positive clunk, then tested it to make sure it was latched. With a contented looking smile she said "If you're still here tomorrow maybe we can do it again." the spectacular naked prisoner smiled back and replied "that makes me wish I was gonna be"; and it was only partly a lie. Brenda Carlyle felt the biggest thump in her sixty year old pussy that she'd had in years. The wide eyed teenager with the strawberry blonde curls and the timid unsure look, that the Sheriff found so irresistible, stood in her doorway. Caitlin didn't need to act at this point. She was as nervous as she'd ever been in her life. It was all fun and games with the cactus farmers but this was the big leagues. There was a lot riding on her performance; or so she thought. "Come on in sweetheart I've been expecting you" the black robed woman said invitingly. Caitie surveyed the elegantly furnished living room that lay just beyond the entry hall. She noticed the music playing softly in the background as her host continued. "That was quite a storm we just had ... I thought you might be a little late." "Miz Baker is a very good driver" the teenager informed her host, as if that explained everything. "Well come on and sit down honey ... can I offer you anything ... a soda perhaps?" Caitie declined as they made their way into the high ceilinged room. The calculating teen surveyed the room again trying to choose the best position from which to begin. The leather couch faced a large open hearth and was flanked by two matching and comfy looking chairs. The grouping sat in the middle of the large room's light colored hardwood floor on an area rug that looked sort of Navaho. She chose the couch and was curious as to what her host would do. Sheriff Carlyle sat right beside her which spoiled her first plan. With her skirt so short she thought she could open negotiations by flashing her host but she'd have to workout a plan B. She sat down rather carelessly hoping her panties would show. Brenda went to the kitchen and Caitie heard the Eagles singing " ... you just can't hide you're lyin' eyes" and she hoped they weren't singing about her but it reminded her to keep her expression under control. When the older woman returned the teenager was twisting her hands in her lap as much to attract attention to the white cotton underpants she was displaying as anything else. Sheriff Carlyle set her mineral water on the stone coffee table and began stroking Caitie's leg at the knee. Her hand was soft and warm. "You're really worried about your mom aren't you?" she said as she continued to move her hand back and forth on the very lowest three inches of the fifteen year old thigh. The teenager looked into the Sheriffs sympathetic eyes and nodded. The hand was going a little higher and miz Logan realized 'I don't have to make her want me ... I just have to make her pay.' The gentle strokes were already rekindling the embers of arousal that still glowed from the fashion show at the cactus farm. "I talked with your mother earlier today and she seemed in good spirits. She's a very beautiful woman ... it's not surprising she has such a pretty daughter." The girl was now feeling faint twitches to go along with the heat between her legs. "Uh ... thanks" Caitlin said and she hoped it didn't sound like a groan. "Your mom has an amazing figure ... I can see that you're already starting to take after her." The Sheriff continued to compliment and let her eyes rove over the teenagers pubescent curves once again. Her prey didn't say anything and was concentrating on controlling her breathing which was getting a bit quick. "From what I could see she has really beautiful breasts" her host continued and slipped the arm that wasn't stroking her thigh around her shoulders. "You don't mind if I hug you a little ... do you?" Caitie shook her head in the negative. She could now feel the warmth and soft squishiness of the older woman's breast on her upper arm. "You're gonna have really nice breasts too." Up to that point it was all relatively innocent and explainable but when Brenda said "will you show them to me sweetie?" the game was on. The young miz Logan didn't miss a beat. She clasped her hands to her chest above her budding mammaries and said "Nooo..." "Are you shy honey? You shouldn't be; your body is a work of art ... you should be proud of it." Brenda applied one of her favorite persuasions. "Ugh ... I couldn't ... I just couldn't" Caitie persisted still holding her hands to her chest. "What if I showed you mine first?" the Sheriff asked using the oldest dodge in the book. She backed away from her partner on the couch and they both regretted the loss of contact. Brenda shrugged the satin robe off her shoulders and let it fall around her hips exhibiting how miraculous her skin and flesh tone was for her age. The girl of course didn't appreciate how unique the sixty year old's body was, having no experience with or personal knowledge of the ravages of time. What she did immediately focus on was that her host's breasts were a little bigger than Abbeys and they had much larger and darker circles around the nipple. Even at their modest size, time had introduced a bit of sag. The Sheriff slid her hands up her rib cage and cupped her well used tits, letting her thumbs play over the hardening peaks. "See I'm not ashamed to show you mine ... even though they're not as perky as they used to be" Brenda paused letting the wonderful stream of nerve impulses track from her breasts to her womanhood. "Let's compare" she said with authority and reached for the buttons on Caitlin's blouse. "Nooo..." the girl forced herself to say and clutched her hands tighter to her bosom. "Now Caitie ... there's no reason to make a big deal out of this" Sheriff Carlyle said a little more firmly. 'Deal' thought the teenager 'that's the word'. The top cop's fingers were on the white cotton blouse. They weren't prying the teen's fingers away, more like waiting for her to surrender. "You can look if you let my mom out of jail" Heather's daughter issued her ultimatum. The demand came as no surprise to the head of Oyster Gulch law enforcement. She was aware that it was at the heart of this meeting from the outset. "It's not that easy sugar ... Your mom has apparently broken the law and I don't have the authority to just ignore that" Brenda's fingers were gently stroking the girl's upper chest through the blouse, just under her collar bone. "Well why should I let you then, if you can't help me ... and my mom?" "I didn't say that ... I didn't say I couldn't help ... I just don't want to give you the wrong impression and false hopes that I can just wave a magic wand and make this all go away" Caitie loosened her clenched hands a little as a good faith gesture. "It took some doing but I have made arrangements to get the car back to your dad" Brenda explained. "We're pretty sure ... your mom's lawyer and I, that if the so called stolen property has been returned that the judge will dismiss the charges." The teenager could easily understand the logic and allowed her host to pull her hands away from her chest with minimal resistance. The cop's fingers began to work the buttons and Caitie sighed feeling that Oyster Gulch's head of law enforcement should be rewarded for her efforts so far. The buttons opened one by one and soon Brenda was spreading the halves revealing the overstuffed little bra. Had they been aware of what was about to happen two hundred miles away they'd have both been upset. Mary Ellen MacTier was watching the gas gauge on the car she'd volunteered to return. She didn't want to repeat the disastrous mistake of its last driver. She decided it would be better to gas up before she reached Salt Lake City. She was hoping to find a secluded spot to catch an hour nap before making the trip across Utah. 'I'll stop one more time when I get into Wyoming' she planned as she took and exit advertising food and fuel just before the interstate took a severe curve to the south to skirt the Great Salt Lake itself. The minute she was no longer motoring at seventy miles an hour her fatigue manifested itself. She'd been up for fifteen trying hours. The frustration the Sheriff had put her through had taken quite a bit out of her and she was disappointed in the quality of orgasm she'd managed to achieve in the shower when she went home to change. Usually after sitting there stewing in her own juices for hours she could generate a spectacular climax with minimal effort, once she was free to do so. Perhaps the adrenaline of the adventure on which she was about to embark and the feeling of pride at being able to help her boss out had taken the edge off temporarily. Now as she scanned the exit ramp for directions to the gas station her feelings of fatigue and relaxation had an under current of sexual need. Mary Ellen knew her body and was pretty sure she'd need a sexual pick me up before she finished her trip. She'd worn a sundress with a bra top that provided easy access to her plump 'C' cup boobs and their hypersensitive puckered centers. She'd briefly thought about leaving her panties off but decided on a fairly stretchy thong instead. It was easy enough to pull aside. In many ways she would have been more comfortable traveling in jeans and a T shirt but it would have made scratching the itch if ... when it arrived a lot harder. It was an annoyingly complicated process to get to the filling station. By the time she had the nozzle in the tank she wasn't sure whether the priority was self gratification or rest. She paid for her gas and picked up some snacks to tide her over when she got back on the road. The two bottles of energy drink were gonna get warm but she was saving them for later anyway. There really wasn't much around except a lot of salt. She was peering around the scattered mounds looking for an out of the way place for her nap ... and other activities, when she noticed the blue strobes flashing behind her. 'Cops!' she realized immediately 'I sure as heck wasn't speeding ... maybe I was going too slow.' When the patrol car whooped its siren she pulled to the side of the road. At just after eight it wasn't quite dark yet but the cruiser had its high beams on making it difficult for the Oyster Gulch Sheriff's clerk to see the officer who was approaching from the rear of the Logan's Honda. There was no doubt in the anxious brunette's mind that the authoritative voice was female - "Step out of the car please ... and keep your hands where I can see them." Mary Ellen felt her stomach drop. This was rather extreme for a routine traffic stop. Climbing out she squinted into the bright headlamps and her heart froze. The silhouetted officer had her service weapon trained on her. Outright panic began to set in. "Is ... is something wrong officer ... what did I do?" her quavering voice sounded so tiny in the still night air. "Turn around and put you hands on the hood of the car" the silhouetted figure commanded, ignoring her questions. It was always prudent to follow the instructions of a person pointing a gun at you. As the Sheriff's clerk complied the officer moved in behind her. "Feet back and spread 'em" the cop demanded. She hooked a combat boot around one of woman's ankles and pulled it out diagonally to reinforce her order. The rough laces scraped her soft flesh painfully. By the time the cop was through Mary Ellen felt very off balance with a substantial amount of her weight resting on the hands. She did not see the woman behind her holster the gun but the but it was logical to assume that she had when both of the policewoman's hands began at her slightly injured ankle and started to slid up. She was being frisked. 'Why did she start at my ankle ... obviously I can't be hiding anything down there'. The officer's hands were surprisingly soft and moving much slower than the clerk would have expected, but she was no expert in searching as suspect for weapons either. "What ... what happened ... what did I do?" the now terrified twenty-something whined. "You have the right to remain silent' the cop said as her exploring hands passed the frightened woman's knee " ... use it!" Mary Ellen bit her lip and could feel the tears burning in her eyes; but those soft hands kept rising. As scared as she was it shocked her that the hands traveling up her leg were causing a very noticeable increase in heat where her thighs met. The sensation when the cops hands reached the top almost made the off balance young woman squeal. One of the frisking hands brushed the gauzy crotch of her thong. It was fleeting and light but the distressed Sheriff's clerk knew that the heat and dampness was probably evident even from that brief contact. Her head was now spinning and the fear was being forced aside by the rumblings from her womanhood. 'Why does she need to go that high' the suspect wondered. 'She doesn't ... she just wants to' she answered her own question. The process was being repeated with her other leg. It felt like a violin bow being drawn across a string while the fiddle player's other hand slid down the neck. The resulting note was so high only dogs could hear it. When the second hand brushed her thinly covered pussy it was firmer, more deliberate. The woman in the yellow print sundress, spread eagle leaning on the hood of the car, felt faint and hoped she wouldn't fall down as the contact with her needy vulva made her legs go weak. The cop's hands were now on the outside of the dress poking and prodding all around her middle. No sexual stimulus there just embarrassment at her cushiony tummy and terror began to reassert. Satisfied that she had no weapons on her mid torso Mary Ellen felt something hard pressing against her butt. The officer had stepped between he widely spaced feet and was reaching around. The position caused the nightstick to press against the accused's fleshy rump. At first the other woman cupped and massaged her hanging boobs through the reinforced top of her dress, but not satisfied with her findings her right hand snaked down the loose top and captured the Sheriff's clerk's bare left tit directly in her hand. Soft fingers molded into the pliant flesh and the rising nipple pressed into the searching hand's squeezing palm. The stooped over woman struggled to stifle a groan and the nightstick shifted until it was pressing directly between the full round hemispheres of her ass. The cop switched hands plunging her left hand down the bodice and exploring the detainee's right breast, meanwhile she continued to cradle the left breast through the top of the dress. 'I wore it because it was easy access ... and she's sure taking advantage of the convenience'. The frightened brunette, having been well and thoroughly felt up, realized that the officer was grabbing her right wrist firmly and barking "stand up". It took quite a push-off from her nearly horizontal position, but as soon as she was standing erect, the cop snapped her right arm around behind her back and latched the cuff onto it. Grabbing her left wrist just as roughly the other side of the chain connected bracelets clicked into place. The officer spun her around and she got he first look at the woman who'd just made and unauthorized intimate exploration of her body. They were about the same height but the Stetson on the cop's head made her look taller. The strands of yellow blonde hair that peaked out from under the brim of the hat over her ears made Mary Ellen think she had fairly long hair; probably shoulder length. She looked slender but the kaki uniform did a good job of hiding her figure. On the left pocket of her shirt was a silver star sitting atop what appeared to be a respectably large boob. Over the right pocket was an etched name tag. In the failing light she discovered that she'd had the pleasure of Officer Sandra Mullen's company for the past ten minutes. "Get in the cruiser" officer Mullen ordered giving her prisoner a little push in the back. "What's this about ... what have I done ... I have a right to know why I'm being arrested" "Of course you do" Sandra said "How's possession of stolen property?" "What stolen prop..." the light went on before she could finish the question; 'the car!' there was BOLO out on it in Wyoming, Utah, Nevada and California. Nobody in Nevada had taken the time to announce that they had apprehended the car thief. The car was still hot. "You've got it all wrong ... I work for the Oyster Gulch Sheriff's Department ... and I was returning it to its rightful owner in Wyoming." Mary Ellen did not see the change of expression on Sandy Mullen's face when she mentioned Oyster Gulch. "I'm sure you were ... and you're as innocent as a baby. Save it for the judge!" the cop said putting her hand on top of the Sheriff's clerk's head as the flabbergasted young woman folded into the cramped back seat of the patrol car. It took longer than she expected. They seemed to weave and wind and make several turns before they pulled up behind a police station. When the officer opened the car door the buxom brunette noticed that the cop was holding her purse and another little bag that she'd retrieved from the front seat of the Accord. Mary Ellen's heart skipped a beat as she was guided into the station. Inside the small office were four desks, file cabinets lined two of the walls and sturdy looking bars lined another. Sandra hung the Stetson on a coat tree revealing Mary Ellen's theory to be correct. Her longish blonde hair was stacked untidily and pinned on top of her head. The multi-toned light colored hair looked as natural as her coiffure looked careless. She took a set of keys from a hook and opened the door to the cell. Unceremoniously she pushed the clerk inside and closed the door with a loud clang. The tears she'd cried on the ride over here had dried on her cheeks and the Oyster Gulch's car delivery person was sure she looked a mess. "Let's see if you are who you say you are" the cop said as she dumped the contents of Mary Ellen's purse onto one of the desks. The wallet stood out among the other smaller paraphernalia. Sandra opened it and studied the driver's license first, glancing briefly at her prisoner for comparison. Next she spied the Oyster gulch Sheriff's Department ID. "Well it looks like you do come from Oyster Gulch" the cop conceded and this time Mary did see the smirk but didn't know what it meant. "Its like I told you, my boss ... Sheriff Brenda Carlyle entrusted me to return that car to a mister Hank Logan of Rawlins Wyoming." The woman in the cage was trying to sound somewhat indignant but she wasn't pulling it off. "You can call her ... I have the number" the clerk absently went for her purse which was spewed out on the desk ten feet away and bumped hard into the bars as a result. Being imprisoned took some getting used to. "The Sheriff can call over there in the morning when he gets in around nine ... not gonna get anybody tonight anyway." Officer Mullen said stirring Mary Ellen's personal belongings strewn across the desk. "Nooo! The panicked woman in the cell wailed "that'll be too late! I have to be in Rawlins by eight" the Sheriff's clerk saw the whole plan going up in smoke. 'The Sheriff is gonna be so disappointed in me'; the thought made her anus tingle. "Couldn't you just call Sheriff Carlyle she'll clear this all up ... I'll do anything ... anything you want if you'll just call her." In her overwrought state the irony of her words did not occur to her. She might have recognized and appreciated Heather Logan's desperation from a similar position that very morning but she didn't. Sandra Mullen's mind was turning over what she'd heard about Oyster Gulch as the buxom brunette pleaded. She'd thought about taking a weekend trip or even a vacation into Nevada to check the place out for herself but hadn't got up the gumption. When she heard the prisoner utter the magic words 'I'll do anything' her already quivering coochie sent a jerk of approval. Having verified the woman's identity the local cop was inclined to believe the story. Sitting down at her desk she accessed the secure Nevada State Police information update site. Scrolling down, sure enough there was the entry for the missing Wyoming Honda; the status column said 'Apprehended'. She had all the evidence she needed to release begging woman. 'But she doesn't know that... ' Sandy thought mischievously. Officer Mullen, pondering her options, picked up the other leatherette bag she'd retrieved from the front seat of the stolen car. Mary Ellen's breath caught in her throat as the cop opened the travel case and began to explore its contents. Her nerves were so raw by this point that she couldn't even identify the emotions she was feeling. Fear and anxiety were like a steady background hum the feeling that seemed to pile on top now was embarrassment. The cop pulled a latex butt plug out of the bag and examined it before looking over at the woman in the cell with her eyebrows raised. The next item to emerge from the sex kit was a tiny 'Pocket Rocket' vibrator. Sandy put the miniature pleasure wand beside the ass toy and extracted the final and most interesting of the devices. Mary Ellen held her breath as her jailer turned the oddly shaped purple latex toy to examine it from every angle. It looked like a trident, or maybe a little bit like a cactus. There were three prongs of different sizes the middle one was the biggest and longest. On one side of the central shaft was a shorter curved arm and on the other side, the smallest of the three, wasn't really a shaft at all, it was more like a pair of delicate looking bunny ears. In spite of her embarrassment the Sheriff's clerk felt tremors in her crotch as she alternated between looking at her new toy and the police officer's reaction. Sandy was still gazing at the toy when she said "You said you'd do anything..." then she looked her prisoner in the eye and said "I wanna see how you use this." "Oh honey you gotta get your mom to buy you a bigger one" Sheriff Carlyle commented as she put her fingers under the lace edges of the Caitie's bra cups and tugged gently as if trying to stretch them. "That must be so uncomfortable ... wouldn't you like to take it off?" Her host's chest was already exposed and she'd sort of agreed to let the older woman do a comparison so she reached behind her back. "Let me help sweetie" Brenda offered and Caitie rocked forward to give her access to the simple fastener. After she released the hook Sheriff Carlyle took the liberty of pulling the blouse off the teenager's shoulders. Caitlin assisted by pulling her hands free of the cuffs and sliding her arms out of the sleeves. The Sheriff tossed the blouse onto the arm of the sofa and the girl shrugged her bra down her arms and into her lap. "Oh my God they're beautiful!" the adolescent loving lesbian gasped as the teenager's plump mounds were exposed. Caitie was trying to summon the modest reaction she'd had yesterday in miz Baker's bathroom but the Sheriff's sincere appreciation of her boobies sent a thrilling shiver through her and made her needy little pussy spasm. 'Coy' she reminded herself and covered her breasts with her hands. "Oh no darling let me see" her host pried her hands away. Caitie offered only token resistance. Brenda felt her quim pulse as she watched the puffy pink circles on the plump mounds crinkle and the tiny center peg begin to push out of its deep nest. The teenager could feel her nipples rising and getting hard. She wished she could stroke them to reduce the tingling but she decided that would be too bold so she suffered the tantalizing sensation and tried to shift her focus. She looked at her host's modest breasts with their dark puckered centers. The part that stuck out of the center was thick but not very long. Recalling how long and rubbery Peggy's nips got she found herself wondering if Sheriff Carlyle's would stick out like that given the right stimulation. "Do you ever touch yourself here..." the woman with the black satin robe pooled around her waist asked as she very gently stroked the outer curve of the girl's breast with her finger tips. "Some ... sometimes" Caitlin stammered as she chided herself once again 'coy!' but it was getting harder, more difficult by the second. The sheriff's feathery touch traveled down the side and then under the pubescent mound. The delicate stroke continued in a circle all the way around. Her nipple felt like it was made of stone. It was so hard she felt as though if she tweaked it that it would break off. The glass cutting rigidity was sending a current of nerve impulses straight to her crotch. "It feels wonderful ... doesn't it?" Oyster Gulch's head of law enforcement commented as she moved her tantalizing caress to the girl's other breast. "You can touch mine if you want to" the Sheriff said in what was more a plea than a suggestion. Caitie decided to make the older woman wait, so she didn't immediately take her host up on the offer. The ache Brenda was feeling in her own rock hard nipples demanded soothing. Taking one of the teenager's hands she guided it to her tit. At the risk of compromising her feigned innocence the girl gave into her mischievous impulse and pinched the crinkly button hard, like Abbey had done to her and she'd later done to the lean cactus grower. "Arrrghhhaa..." the guttural wail that erupted from the surprised woman's core was almost scary. Without further ado Sheriff Carlyle lunged forward and captured one of her teenaged guest's tits in her mouth and began to suck. Caitie wasn't able to completely suppress the grunts and groans the skilled tongue bath of her chest raised. The teen also realized that her butt had moved forward on the couch to a point that she was almost lying down. The result was that her too short skirt was now covering very little. Most of her cotton clad pudendum was exposed below the hem of the plaid kilt. The sexy display did not go unnoticed by the Sheriff who slid off the sofa and crawled between the teenager's knees, pushing them further apart in the process. The senior cop reached up and gripped the waistband of the juvenile underpants. Miz Logan felt she should mount some final defense even though it was the last thing she wanted to do. She whimpered and tried to close her legs which was impossible because her knees were prevented from coming together by the kneeling woman's ribs. "Relax honey ... I'm not going to hurt you" Brenda assured her. The teenager should have received an Academy Award for the shy shocked expression on her face. Sheriff Carlyle's heart melted looking into the timid wide green eyes. "I can make you feel so good sweetie" she promised as she began to tug firmly on the youngster's panties. Caitlin knew it would be out of character to help but she discretely raised her hips just slightly to aid the older woman. Brenda didn't notice the help she was too busy backing out from between the teenager's knees so she could get the underpants past them. From there it was straight down over the knee socks to the floor. Once she had threaded them over the Mary Janes she was able to bring the youngster's underwear to her nose and inhale the delicate sweet fragrance. The Sheriff would have been content to sit there for a while but the ultimate prize was waiting within arms reach. Caitie put on her modesty face again and kept her knees pressed tightly together. Brenda slid her hands up the tops of the slender adolescent thighs all the way to the girl's hip and then started back down toward the inside of the silky columns. She repeated her long stroking caress a couple of times, looking into her prospective conquest's big green eyes. The nymph had done an excellent job of selling her innocence. The expression the Sheriff was reading as nervous reluctance was in fact Caitie fighting the urge to spread her legs and mash the kneeling woman's face into her bubbling snatch. "Easy honey..." Brenda soothed as she felt the girl's thighs begin to tremble. The topless older woman with the tingling nipples was applying gentle but steady outward pressure. Caitlin thought she should draw it out more. She put her head back and screamed at herself 'coy!' it did not good she couldn't stand it another second; she simply yielded to the separating force of the older woman's persuasive hands. Once again her head going back was misinterpreted by the woman on the floor. The pubescent pinkness was coming into view and the cop had to swallow rapidly to get rid of the saliva that was building up before she started to drool. Still feeling she had to reassure the teen she cooed "Just relax sweetheart ... I'm gonna make you feel so wonderful." Her hands slid up to the pouting flushed lips and began to ever so slowly and gently pry them apart. The quantity of juice that was evident just inside the protective folds thrilled the pussy connoisseur. Her expert eye surveyed the delicious terrain as she held the labial wings open. The plump sheath at the top of the deep pink gash foretold an unexpectedly large pleasure center. Brenda applied some upward pressure hoping to encourage the pubescent pearl from its hiding place. Caitie couldn't actually feel her clit pop out but the cool air circulating on it told her that her most sensitive treasure was poking out. She had to bite her lip to keep from moaning although she knew it was too late to be cute now. Brenda wanted to exercise restraint, she really did, but it had been a long time since she'd had such an adorably juicy peach presented to her. She shuddered and struggled for control but wasn't any more successful than her teenaged partner had been. As soon as her tongue made contact with the slippery velvet folds she lost it. Her tongue went into overdrive and she sucked down the girl's nectar like she was dying of thirst. Caitie was shocked at the speed and forcefulness of the Sheriff's oral ministrations. She dug her fingers into the short grey hair not even sure what she was trying to accomplish. It might have just been to give her the feeling that there was something keeping her from flying off the planet. The woman with the flying tongue and the voraciously sucking mouth took the hands on her head as encouragement and went faster. This was the third time and the third different mouth that had eaten her fifteen year old cookie and she thought she knew what to expect; she was wrong. Abbey and Peggy had been so laid back, almost reverent; Sheriff Carlyle was like a wild animal. It was so different, it was like her first time over again. She was trying to adjust to and enjoy the technique but there just wasn't time. The woman's hyperactive mouth sent her into space in what seemed like only seconds; not only that but her screaming and thrashing seemed to have no affect on the muff diving cop whatsoever. Brenda held her little hips fast to her hungry mouth and continued to suck and lick all the way through the teenager's convulsions. Only when the exhausted girl went completely limp did she raise her head. The panting young woman was now lying lengthwise on the couch. The Sheriff had followed her feast as it moved and climbed onto the sofa in pursuit. "It seemed like that was a pretty good one" the Sheriff commented pulling her robe back up on her shoulders, licking her lips and looking down at the breathless teen. Caitie was thinking it might be the understatement of her young life. Though she couldn't see clearly she tried to keep her eyes open and look at the woman who had just delivered pleasure that was beyond her wildest imagination. The teenager was trying to say 'What about my mom?' but the only word she actually got out was a croaky " ... mom..." Brenda stroked the slightly sweat dampened strawberry curls and said "don't worry honey everything is gonna workout ... you'll see." The Sheriff did consider herself to be somewhat empathic when it came to adolescent girls. Maybe that's how she predicted the favorable turn of events in Utah without ever knowing there was a problem to begin with. |