I Sucked The Sheriff

"Swallow," the sheriff commands and I obey. "Again," he says and again I obey. Now he allows me to slide back down his staff until I reach the tip. Then the ritual repeats itself.

Up to the top, swallow twice and back down. Up to the top, swallow twice and back down. Each time the trip is easier as my throat relaxes, my tongue becomes accustomed to the beating of the vein on the underside of his prick and my nose gets used to the hair that scrapes at its tip and sides.

Time after time the full length of his fleshy probe snakes its way down into my gullet as my chin nests in his scrotum. I suck him eagerly, hungrily awaiting his cockjuice; an acolyte partaking in a profane communion.

In mid-stroke the sheriff tenses, his shaft growing even thicker enlarging as is fills with blood and sperm. His hands push me down his cock until its tip rests on the back of my tongue. I feel his dickhead swell even larger, pulsing against the roof of my mouth as his ejaculate spurts to the back of my throat.

Throughout his orgasm the sheriff has been silent, even his breathing too soft to be heard. But as he slowly removes his cock from my mouth he gives a quiet moan. Is it proof I have satisfied him or an indication I have disappointed him?

That was three weeks ago. Today I am sitting in a coffee shop in the county seat reading a newspaper whose headline blares in 72 point type "County Prosecutor Resigns." The story underneath, which carries my byline (the job I was afraid of losing was as a reporter for the local paper), explains how the married prosecutor had used county funds to rent an apartment for his mistress and their two-year old love child. Tracking down this story was the job the sheriff wanted me to do and I think I did it quite well, even better than I suck cock.

With the prosecutor leaving office, the sheriff has told me the coves will be allowed to reopen, possibly as soon as the weekend. Best of all the new prosecutor has promised to prosecute his predecessor. Given the evidence against him a conviction is a sure thing.

Our ex-prosecutor may soon find himself in a state prison where the sheriff tells me they love to make sissies out of the new fish. A friend of the sheriff's will see that "the pimple" will get personal introductions to all of the right convicts to make sure he gets turned out. He's even promised the sheriff a few photos of the guy on his knees with a big black cock in his mouth. It seems there is some rough justice in this world after all.