Desert Valley Girl

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A roadside encounter.
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The highway deserted, the asphalt was sticky as it sizzled beneath the tyres of the motorcycle. Highway Patrol 59 stopped as he topped a ridge and shifted his heavy build awkwardly on the saddle. In the parched valley below, a pink Cadillac convertible was parked by the roadside, bonnet in the air.

The rider cruised down to pull up behind the Cadillac. Resting the bike on its stand he sucked in his stomach, tucked his shirt inside his belt, and walked to the car.

Bending over the grille was some fine big womanly butt, squeezed into zebra-stripe print tights. Long shapely legs curved all the way down to a tanned stretch of ankles and feet done up in cute red high heels.

"Afternoon, Miss."

"What's good about it?" She turned angrily on him.

He licked his lips. She was more than something. About a foot and a bit shorter than his 6'8. Blonde hair fell about her shoulders in a long shower. Glitzy yellow horn-rimmed sunglasses hid her eyes. A thin pink cotton halter-top did its damnedest to contain a front-end load nothing less than downright criminal. A pink bubble of gum began from her mouth. Growing bigger, it popped with a loud smack.

"Yes, Officer?"

"Can I be of assistance, Miss?"

Crossing her arms over her chest she leaned that heavenly behind on the chrome grille. "Had a lead come loose. But I fixed it."

"Yeah?"

Chewing her gum she looked at him. "Yeah."

It was hard to tell with the sunglasses but from what he could see she had a more than pretty face. Something familiar about it, too. She slammed the bonnet down. "Thought I was just another dumb bimbo, huh?"

"Not at all, Miss. You'll be on your way, I guess."

"Hell, no." She walked to the back of the convertible and stepped inside. "Think I'll rest awhile. Felt myself getting white line fever."

"Care for some company?"

"What for?" Sitting in the back she propped her feet up on the head of the passenger seat in front.

He shrugged. "Tired. And I wouldn't like to hear later of anything happening to a woman out here alone."

"What sort of anything?"

"I don't know. Nothing, I guess." He stood there, feeling clumsy. She looked at him and shrugged.

"Okay. If I'm not taking you from more pressing duties, come rest awhile."

The seat was huge and made of white leather. It felt good to sit back and relax after the vibration of the bike through the desert. If ever there was a place God happily discarded for the devil to take possession of, this had to be it.

"Drink?" She held up a hip flask.

"I'm on duty, but what the hell?"

Spitting the gum from her mouth she offered the flask. He took a belt of it. Good bourbon. Taking another, he felt himself almost sinking in the seat beneath that blazing sun.

He turned to her. From what you could see, she sure indeed had quite a face. Those lips were something too. Damned if he couldn't remember who they reminded him of. She took another drink.

"Hope you ain't intending to drive under the influence, Miss?"

"Whatever makes you say that, Officer?" She ran a crimson nail-polished finger along his name-badge. "Jerome Haven?"

He took the flask. "You'd better show me your license."

"It's in my purse."

Jerry sighed as she bent over the front seat. What a view. He drank some more, watching her wiggle it all about.

"Here it is." She returned beside him.

Taking the opened billfold from her he looked at it. Pretty? Hell, she was a heartbreaker.

"Twenty three years old. Candice Carloni. Real estate agent?" Flicking through the cards in the billfold he looked at her. "You shitting me?"

She shook her head.

"Hell, Miss Carloni, this is damn near everything but your vital statistics."

"42-28-36," she replied coolly. "Want my weight, you're going to have to guess."

"I might just do that."

She patted her hips. "Maybe I could lose some, but I like my dessert."

"Everybody's equal in the eyes of the law. Hey," He held up the flask. "This is dry."

"You're on duty."

"And you're no Real Estate Agent. Not with a body like that." He grunted and dug his hand among the luggage packed on the floor. "Tequila! My favourite."

She looked across the valley. The heat burned shimmering puddles of light in the air above the sand. "My, but the wind changes quick around here"

"Excuse me?" Unscrewing the lid of the tequila he drank.

"Thought I got a scent of gentleman before." Unwrapping some gum she popped it in her mouth. "All I smell now is pig."

He laughed. "Candice Carloni, my ass. I know you. Candy Cantaloupe. The only real estate you developed is the twin acre lots under that cotton. You're a damn stripper."

Snatching the glitzy sunglasses from her face, she glared. "Cop, they never teach you manners in the police? Like how to communicate decently with the public."

"I seen you," he laughed again. "And what you do you couldn't get more public!"

"Pig," she whispered. "Shift your fat pig butt out of my car."

"Don't be like that, Miss Cantaloupe."

"Oh, please," Her tone was ice. "Call me Candy."

He laughed again and then became quiet. "In this state I'll call you whatever the hell I like. Got it?"

Saying nothing she blew another bubble until it popped.

"You really kill me, you know." He took another drink. "You're one hell of a honey. You look even more beautiful than you do in those magazines."

"Great," she murmured. "Psycho cop defers to wet dreams for guidance."

"No crime, you know, Candy, dreaming."

"Depends who's the dreamer."

"What about who's the dream?"

She sighed and looked at him with those sleek bluey-green eyes. "Gimme that." She took the bottle and drank.

"What a dream you are, honey. More than enough for one man."

"God!" She coughed on the tequila. "Spare me the monologue! Can I go now?"

"I don't like your attitude, Candy." He looked around the car. "Say, have you got a gun?"

"Have you?"

"Sure," he chuckled. "Seven inch single barrel. Slide action. Call it my plumper pumper."

"Sounds like rotten cheese to me."

"Get rid of that gum. You're a grown woman, for Christ's sake, not some teenage bunny-fuck."

Spitting the gum out she took another drink.

"Now I'll ask you again, darling. You got a gun?"

Shaking her head, the long blonde hair shivered deliciously about her shoulders.

"Can't accept that. No way."

"What?"

"Can't except a verbal denial. As a deputised officer of the law that places me in a hell of a position."

"You shit."

He grinned. "Afraid I'm going to have to search you."

"Pig."

"Relax, darling." Sliding along the seat as close to the door as he could, he patted the seat between them. "Recline yourself and we can discuss your situation."

She shrugged again and stretched out, her arms behind her head against the door, gingerly resting her ankles across Jerry's lap. He took a slug of tequila and winked. She was a sight. Big full breasts looking straight up at him through her halter top. A strip of bare tanned midriff, then a full swelling mound of zebra-stripe tights between shapely dancer's thighs.

"What the hell you looking at?" she demanded.

"Dessert."

She rubbed her calf across his lap. "You're a sick vulgar pig."

"Enforcing the law is tricky business." He rested a hand on her knee closest to his stomach. "Sometimes you forget the social niceties other people take so much for granted." She took the bottle and drank.

"Don't know what I like about you the best," he murmured. "I think it must be your eyes. Now I'll ask again. Have you got a gun?"

The bottle came away from her mouth with a pop. She shook her head.

"Can't accept that at all. Guess there's just one thing for me to do."

Smiling shyly, she clutched the bottle between her big heavy tits. "Frisk me?"

"There's plenty places a woman can hide a gun." Slapping her knee lightly he slid his hand up the long curving inside of her thigh.

"Really?" Her legs parted as his hand went up between them.

"Oh yeah." Tickling over that mound, he gently squeezed and fondled the nice spongy pad of fur inside.

"I must say," Her legs were spread, one foot on the head of the passenger seat. "I've never been frisked like this before."

"Women got all sorts of tricks. But I'm trickier." Finding the cleft of her vagina he caressed it. "I'm thorough."

"You tickle, just like butterfly kisses."

Jerry chuckled. "Butterfly's looking for a flower."

"Whatever for?" Her lip-sticked mouth puckered into a surprised o.

"Taste the nectar. Poor butterfly gets thirsty. Need to drink that nectar real bad."

Mighty pleased with himself he sat back and took a long pull of tequila, his other hand doing its feathery movements between her legs. She was a princess allright. Her big breasts trembling as a soft panting came from her mouth.

"Fraid I'm goin' to have to remove this garment."

"What ever for, officer?"

"See if anything's concealed."

"What do I do?"

"On your knees, facing away from me," Jerry grinned. "Hands on the side of the car."

Languidly she climbed up and knelt on the seat, pushing her big heavenly behind at him. "Like this?"

"Uh-huh."

"What now?"

"Enjoy the scenery." Running his hands over that big comfortable butt, he chuckled. "Like I am."

"That tickles!"

"Hands on the car, Miss Cantaloupe," he barked.

Hooking his thumbs inside the waistband of her tights he tugged down. They were as tight as they looked. The going was tough. Grunting and cursing he finally wrenched the fabric over her buns. Startled, he looked at the big bare cheeks and broke into laughter.

"Enjoying the scenery, officer?"

"Sure am. Found a real nice valley with a g-string running straight down the middle!"

"I swear I don't know what you're talking about." "My," he said fingering the fluorescent lilac cord. "That's real clever. Goes around your waist, then disappears straight down the hole like a magic trick."

"Stick your hand inside your helmet and you'll find a rabbit."

Jerry laughed again as he pulled the tights down to her knees. He gave a slap across her behind that sent a shiver right through her.

"You fat bastard!"

"Sorry, Candy. Bad cop, good cop routine. Regulatory procedure." He pulled at her tights again. "Who wants rabbit anyway? I'm looking for pussy."

Sighing in exasperation she lifted her feet one at a time as he pulled the garment over her high heels.

"Find anything, pig?"

"Oh yeah. It's going to need further examining. Ain't going to offer no resistance, I hope." Removing his helmet, he dipped his head, and buried his face in her behind.

"Sure, pig. I'm always ready to ass--Oooh!" she squealed as his hand slid between her legs to cup the mound of her crotch and squeeze.

"Hot and humid in Love Gulch!" He grinned up at her.

"Hmm?" Closing her thighs on his hand she squeezed hard. "Is that what they call this place?"

"Indeed. That's nice. Nice plump cunt." He was more than a bit surprised at the grip she had on him. Carefully he set the tequila bottle on the floor, reached around her waist and up to push a hand inside her halter top, finding more tit than he could ever hope to handle. A fat rubbery nipple brushed against his palm, he pinched it.

"Goddamn!" she hissed.

Wrenching his hand from between her legs he plucked at the g-string and tore it from her. Reaching around front of her stomach he forced his hand between her thighs.

"Oh yeah. Wet pussy. Right in my palm."

"Fucking pig!" she grunted as his thumb found the opening to her vagina and gently teased. "Stick it in!"

"Candy." Pushing his face into her hair and smelled her shampoo. "You're my beautiful long haired princess."

"What's that make you? Rumpelstiltskin?"

His other hand was still underneath her top, hauling on her titties, pinching the nipples into magnificently thick hard nubs.

"Love your butt, Candy. Love that little pink carnation hole you got there.""Is that all you do - talk?" Savagely she pushed him and he fell backwards on the seat. "There's got to be something I can use here." Fumbling at his zipper she stuck her hand inside. "Oh, my God!" Her big blue-green eyes were wide with surprise. "Momma said there really were such things as monsters!"

"You didn't believe her?"

"I do now." Gripping the swollen schlong in her fist she rubbed its fat uncircumcised head over one enormous tittie and then the other. "Golly, he likes that." She stared it straight in its one slit eye and licked her lips. "I've been dreaming about something like this since I was a little girl!"

She went down on him, taking the whole enormous twitching member in one eager swallow. Watching her big beautiful arse wiggle at the sun he laughed. "You must have done a whole lot of dreaming, darling."

Candy didn't reply, too preoccupied as she was with wringing as much stiffness into the fat sweaty schlong in her mouth as she could. Finally she rose, great titties heaving, perspiration gleaming on her skin, she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth.

"Hey, pigman." Crawling across him, she turned to face his feet. "Still want to guess my weight?"

A startled yelp was all Jerry could utter before his face became an impromptu landing pad for pussy. Recovering almost immediately upon touchdown, he remembered his academy training and set about establishing official communications between his mouth and Candy's voluptuous blonde snatch. It was like pressing your face into the biggest, sweetest flower. Kissing a sticky pollen centre as soft, honey-dewed petals licked your cheeks.

"Nice touch, pigman." Crouching over him, she bent and flexed that enormous hard-on between her teats. Jamming it cruelly between her cleavage she relished the alarming way it throbbed and twitched against her chest.

Sun's heat turned the valley to a furnace. Heat waves shimmered the air as the whole world seemed to teeter on the brink of melting point. She fumbled about the floor for the tequila, took a deep drink, poured some on the prick and sucked it clean.

Jerry vented his lust into the spread folds of her quim. His face was a mess of sweat and the hallowed moisture oozing from Candy. Pulling his head away, he gasped for air. Winking at him was the pretty fluorescent pink bud of her arsehole. Chuckling, he shot his tongue straight at it, like a frog going for a fly.

"Filthy fucking pig!" Her buttocks lurched violently. "Do it again!"

He did and laughed. What a thing to remember in your old age, a tongue - shot up Candy's arse. He buried his face in her butt, Candy hauled suck on his dick.

"Hell," he laughed. "You really are a bunny-fuck!"

A roaring permeated the air. Slowly it began, then louder until it filled the world, the Cadillac trembling from the vibrations.

Looking up from Candy's butt, Jerry blinked in amazement. A semi-trailer bore down the highway. Sighting the Cadillac, the driver hauled on the air horn. Jerry waved crazily as the semi thundered by. A startled face peered anxiously out of the driving cabin, the Cadillac rocking hard with the semi's passing. Unperturbed, Candy viciously squeezed the fat member between her tits. Jerry howled in pain. A shot of come ricocheted off Candy's chin to splatter her breasts.

"Mmm." Savagely she wrung the last of the junket from his pumper. "Good dessert."

Jerry gave a sigh of relief before Candy's thighs clamped about his head, crushing his ears with her strong dancer's muscles.

"Frisk this, Pigman!"

Doing keelhaul on his face with her snatch, she hit fast and hard, bucking and grinding. Jerry closed his eyes and opened his mouth wide as she mopped the basement floor with his tongue.

"Inspect this estate, officer. It's real!"

Grunting she arched her buttocks in the air to slammed them down on his head. Again, and little white lights exploded at the back of Jerry's mind. His hands slapped at her but she was too strong.

"Here's your princess," she hissed. "Sugar and spice."

True to her word, Jerry drank her as she came. He drank and drank sweet twat dessert from her thighs. Her orgasm subsided, the tension disappeared from her body. Jerry gasped and gave that sopping satiated pussy a last loving kiss.

He felt a fumbling at his belt and then a grab at one of his hands. A snick of metal about his wrist and he hollered. Twisting expertly above him, she caught his other wrist in the cuffs as well, locking them good.

"Out, pigman!"

The sharp striking point of a high heel stuck in his back he struggled out the door to collapse on the roadway.

"Candy!"

She stepped out, tanned and bare except for the red high heels and halter top bunched above her soiled titties.

"You've got to fuck me!" he wailed.

Opening the front door she parked that gleaming butt into the driver seat. The Caddy roared and he crawled to his knees. The booze had turned everything from a soft comfortable buzz to a wild spinning. She looked at him and shifted the gear-stick. The back wheels screamed on the asphalt. Highway Patrol 59 lay on its side in the gravel.

"Bitch!" he howled. "I'll see you in hell!"

Putting on her sunglasses she smiled. "In your dreams, pigman."

The Caddy roared again. He crawled, fingers desperately brushing the rear fender and then nothing as his face hit asphalt. The Cadillac drove to disappear into a curtain of heat-wave, dancing dreams of molten sky above a desert highway.

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