Les Autres Ch. 05

Post-trauma shock set in on Mary as the young veteran policeman's soothing tone carried his concern, and his strong hands supported her. He saw her face blanch and felt her shiver. Without asking for permission, Janssen stooped, scooped the injured twenty-nine-year-old housewife into a cradled basket carry and quietly inquired, "Where's the closest comfortable place to lay you down and cover you up? You also need first-aid for that banged up knee."

Grateful for his take-charge attitude, Mary smiled weakly up at her handsome hero. Nodding agreement, she answered, "There's a couch in the library... but, if you can manage it, my bed upstairs is more... comfortable." She sighed and added, "It's also closer to the medicine cabinet."

"Right. Upstairs it is, then," Janssen said flatly. As she curled into his chest, Mary's bust divided itself around the cross strap of his Sam Browne. Her full breasts ironed his T-shirt beneath his serge uniform tunic. Just as when he stopped her, earlier that morning, he discovered his dick had difficulty denying its desires. He clenched his teeth and soldiered on bravely, trying to ignore the soft motions of her voluptuous curves as he carried her to the second floor.

By the time they reached the landing, Mary was nearly fully recovered. Her knees, especially the left one, still hurt, but her face was neither pale nor flushed. If her pulse raced and her breathing was shallow, it stemmed from her elevated sexual tension: She felt enthralled by Officer Janssen's safe comforting arms; his seeping body-heat; the scent of his Aqua Velva after-shave. At no point, however, did it occur to her to suggest he put her down and explain his presence at her home.

When the policeman did put Mary down, it was in the well-remembered master bedroom, onto the self-same huge canopied bedstead, where he and O'Rourke had found Farragut dead the previous May. He saw once again, in his mind's eye, the ruined pair of nylon hose, on the pillow, beside the peaceful corpse's no-longer-breathing nose. He knew instantly, intuitively, that he and Sean had been right in their surmisal. He also dismissed any second thoughts he might earlier have had about sniffing around after Mary's transparent trade offer.

Unhooking his duty belt, Janssen carefully laid aside his nightstick, pistol and cuffs, then sat on the left edge of the bed. Mary lay centered on its heavy quilted coverlet; her flaxen hair displayed across a pillow she had drug from the other side of the bed. Janssen's buttocks depressed the mattress beside her left shin as he leaned over, bracing his left hand by her right hip. She looked on silently, showing no alarm or hint of concern.

"The first thing to do, Mrs. Trotter," the policeman began, "is to remove your stockings. Not only are the ragged fibers a possible source of infection, we can't really determine the extent of your wounds without a closer look." He moved his left hand slowly down her right thigh to her skirts' hems while he positioned his right hand similarly, near her swollen knee. "I'll be careful... if you'll allow it," he assured her earnestly.

Mary gave him an encouraging nod with a wordless smile. She inhaled deeply as his fingers lifted, and then folded, her skirt and slip onto her quadriceps, above her garter snaps. Though he was looking down at her legs, Janssen's peripheral vision caught the dramatic rise of her inflating bosom. His cock inflated a bit, too. Beyond her suspender ends was darkness. Mary's closed legs, and her carefully laid hems, formed a discreet delta, effectively concealing her private feminine treasure.

Quickly releasing the top clips, Janssen slid his hands over Mary's outer thighs and wedged them between the coverlet and her hamstring muscles. Reflexively assisting him, she bent her knees and winced. Janssen appreciated her sacrifice. Undistracted by the improved view of Mary's cunt, within her sheer ivory rayon panties, he swiftly freed her stocking tops from their backside snaps. Gritting her teeth, Mary kept her legs slightly bent open while he reversed the hosiery and tugged them to her calves.

Mary's pain was pleasurably offset by the thrilling electric jolts Janssen's thumbs and fingertips sent through her pussy to her tummy. He saw her camel-toe distend and open against the dampening transparent underwear. Her skirt captured her sex-scent and funneled it to him. His head spun and his prick hardened as he pulled the stockings away and cast them aside.

"There," he said, softly, not trusting his voice not to croak at normal volume. "Let's take a look at the damage, shall we?" Bending down and leaning forward, Janssen's head and shoulders prevented Mary from effectively participating in the examination, even if she wanted to. She did not. Rather, what she wanted to do, and did do, was to stretch her arms down and unbutton the reachable top two buttons on the policeman's tunic.

"Hmmm," Janssen offered, after studying first Mary's right, and then her left, patella. "It looks like your left knee took the brunt of the fall. It's bruised, and puffy, but there's no broken skin." He lightly brushed his hand across her right knee-cap. Mary flinched, more from surprise than pain, as he continued, "This one's TENDER, but it'll be OK... soon enough." Returning to her left leg, he laid his palms on either side of her knee, below the injured cap, and slid them half-way up her thigh, under her clothes.

"Here's a trick," Janssen said grinning. He looked up at his patient. "If I give your mind something ELSE to think about, your knee pain will just... melt away." He pushed his hands all the way to the junction of her legs. His left middle and ring fingers snubbed their tips against Mary's juicing cunny. Extending his thumbs and pinkies, he encircled her thigh muscles. His strong hands gripped firmly, deep into her flesh, front and rear. As he squeezed her leg and teased her slit, he asked, "How's that?" He no longer cared about his constricted throat's hoarse dryness.

It was true that Mary's pain was melting away but, so too, was her pussy. Her breasts ached in their cups and clamored to be clawed. Her nipples pushed up, begging for long sweet sucks. Racing heat waves collided in her gut. Her nostrils flared and her open mouth gulped air into her heaving lungs. Pulling at Janssen's short blond hair, she closed her hands over his ears and gasped, "Unnnhh! Thaaasss NICE!"

"IS it? Good!" Janssen growled. Driving his right hand up, past her ass and through the high waistbands of her skirts, he hoisted her butt off the bed. His left fingers snagged the soaked gusset of her flimsy underpants. With a single powerful yank, he burst the thin panel; shredding it like a candy wrapper. His cocked right wrist forced her wrinkled linen skirt and silk half-slip up past Mary's navel.

Now, pouncing on all fours onto the mattress, between Mary's legs, Janssen freed his head from her clutching hands. His brow separated her thighs and he sealed his mouth tight to her primed pussy's lips while his hands shoveled under her round butt, pulling her closer yet. Forgetting entirely about her damaged knees, she captured his shoulders with them as she hooked her calves behind his back and held his head hard to her steaming cunt.

Janssen dove deep and slid high. When he latched onto her clit, Mary shrieked, "Oh GOD! Yes, YES! I'M COMING!" She pulled at her blouse, ripping its single frail hook-and-eye closure as she tore the fine silk over her head. Janssen held her firmly to his face, slathering his jowls with her freshest hot butter, while Mary screamed at him, "TAKE me! Oh, please, GODDAMMIT! I NEED you! FUCK ME! NOW!"

Janssen let go of Mary's bottom, but pinned her pussy with his driving tongue, while he reached for his waist and opened his uniform trousers. Lifting his head, he lunged forward, lowering his pants and shorts while simultaneously splitting Mary's cunt with his bared bone. They grunted in unison as his chest landed on hers and her box wrapped his gift.

Quickly established a rhythm, their fervor ebbed and flowed: now fast; now slow; now deeply hard; now wallowing in the shallows. Mary cooed and mewled. Janssen groaned and chuffed. He twisted as he thrust while she ground her pelvis as she crushed and milked his plundering pole. Together, they kept each other at their cliffs' edges until no mortal could prevent their crash. Janssen roared. His spunk spewed freely as Mary came repeatedly, crying and whimpering, "Nyaaaahh! YESSSS! Again! AGAIN! YESSSS, oh, Jeesus, YES!"

Burned out, Janssen and Mary lay laminated in their sweat, cum, wool and silk. They panted together. Mary brushed her nails through the policeman's hair. He nibbled idly on her earlobe. After a time, when his cock was soft and had slipped from her sleeve, he rolled off the bed and started re-assembling his uniform. She looked up through hooded eyes, grinned, and said, "You might catch me SPEEDING on Monday... about eight o'clock... on Inverness... between 9th and 10th Avenues. Will you cite me? Or, will I GET OFF again?"