Second Hand Teddy

"Dammit all to hell!" I raged, reacting to yet another lame ass driver stopping short, preventing us from powering through the remains a yellow light. My wife stiffened in the driver's seat of our aging heap. If she would just say something, it'd be nice. We weren't talking anymore.

There she sat, looking down her nose in her ivory tower, refusing to speak to some ill mannered commoner. Her picture should be in the dictionary, gracing an entry for delusions of grandeur. It wasn't bad enough to be doing community service; oh no, I had to be dropped off like a school kid, due to my suspended license. I didn't think my early retirement would suck so much.

It had to be a lady cop busting me for each of my stupid offenses, writing me tickets which I could have paid if it wasn't for Mrs. Spendalot over there. I was to put in four full days to pay for my transgressions, at a thrift store in the seedy part of town. Oh how the mighty have fallen. Fat wonder I couldn't get it up anymore. Wifey dearest doesn't even care, not a bit. "Well, see you..." Slam! Screech! She had reached over to slam my door for me in mid farewell and floored it, leaving me in the dust. Fuckin' bullshit.

I limped my sorry carcass into the store's back room, like I'd been told to do. The lady in charge barely even glanced at me, regarding me with disdain before peering over her glasses at my work papers.

I felt a sickly sensation spread through me, imagining Miss Big Tits there offering to sign me off early in exchange for tawdry sex favors. Aw, hell! Who was I kidding, anyway? That's not happening. Maybe twenty years ago, not anymore. I leaned forward, seeking my orders, like the worst actor in the midst of the crappiest play ever.

"Okay, Mr. James, we can use you." She couldn't have been clearer.

"Great! Where should I start?" Oops, too eager, dumb-ass. I had to remind myself it was them who were helping me out of a bind.

"Get outside to the truck, go help on the donation pickups. That should fill your day." I blinked with relief. "Go on." She made a dismissive shoo fly gesture in my direction. Thanks Jiggles.

"Hi, I'm Will," i said , offering to shake the warty hand of the bespectacled fat-ass driver. He stared me down, ignoring my shake-a-paw face. I was glad; damn chronic masturbator.

We bumped our way along the route, picking up flotsam and jetsam from places of all description. Despite my bad back, I had a pretty good day. We nearly had a conversation after finding common ground: common ground in the form of a brief loose bathrobe flash from a curvaceous Italian woman running after the truck with a last minute donation.

Yuck. I noticed his stubby boner in his overalls. It shuddered as he coughed. I hoped he wasn't contagious; lord only knows where he's been. I guessed he'd been with maybe four women, all paid for.

"One day done, three to go," I happily informed my wife. She was sitting stoically on the sofa, watching recorded drivel, ignoring the dinner I cooked. She looked straight ahead, saying nothing. The last I saw, she was letting her un house-trained little rubbish dog help himself. The hell with them both; I'm a working man again. I bid them goodnight in a made up language from my childhood, not that she noticed. I went to my room to sleep the night away in my clothes, in front of the TV.

The next work day was to find me working inside the store. The driver's buddy displaced me from that glorious position I'd enjoyed yesterday. I showed up early enough to overhear the bastard telling I was too slow or something to that effect. Oh whoa is me.

I busied myself clipping little hooks on the women's clothes I'd been assigned to. I didn't mind lingering over the lacy undergarments one bit. I blushed on encountering a lace up, red and black teddy with dangling garter hooks. The darn thing gave me a surprise semi hard-on. I blushed more when the lady in charge noticed me daydreaming over my new favorite find. She switched me to dust bunny patrol, snatching the garment from my hands, she handed me a broom while eyeing my pants zipper. She didn't need to worry: what can't get up can't get out.

I'd collected half a pail of debris by the time a truly wonderful sight caught my attention. I stood up to absorb the image of a girl scarcely twenty years old, I guessed. She wore a long fringed, trashy black leather jacket with only the lower button done up. Her astounding, huge breasts mocked her jacket's ability to surround them. A familiar hot surge swarmed my groin as I caught her scent. Her bare skinned, sculpted thighs wrestled together within he bonds of her slick, white leather mini skirt. My mouth watered.

I gripped my broom as I watched this black haired beauty brusquely pass on her way to the lingerie section. Her voluptuous derriere cheeks rose and fell as she walked the aisles, straining the confines of their gleaming leather housing. My heart skipped when she selected my favorite teddy, fondling the lace between her lithe fingers. I didn't dare further oglings, as I wanted to avoid getting caught.

I wasn't staring when she caught my gaze; I was merely a man at work. She flashed a look of contempt with her impossibly big green eyes, curling her lip at me, the old letch daring to encroach on her presence. "Pfft!" I snorted, returning to my dismal assignment. She tore the teddy from the rack and clacked on her teetering high heels to the change room.

I wasn't happy with her rebuke, since I wasn't doing anything out of line when she saw me. I boldly ventured to sweep in the vicinity of her stall. Things had gotten interesting.

I watched her draw her feet from her slutty shoes under the changing stall door. I heard a zipper, followed by her skirt falling to the floor. She stepped clear of the garment, followed by the spine tingling descent of her damp crotched red panties slipping down her smooth calves. She hooked her toes around their frilly waist band, whisking them up out of sight. I stood, leaning on my rigid broom stick, remembering how my own stick used to get just as hard. I swept a few more strokes, to keep up appearances.

I was looking over my shoulder, having promised myself to move on, when I heard the door-latch. She held the door open a crack, wide enough to see my hand in my pocket, toying with my cock. I peered in at her with morbid fascination. She shot me an icy stare, then flipped me her middle finger. My stomach lurched, I felt a fullness expand my cock as she slammed the door. I got the heck out of there, fearing the worst was yet to come.

I waited, swept, straightening rows of shelf goods while keeping a furtive watch on the change room. She emerged empty handed. She strode out of the store without incidence. I swept my way back to her stall, finding nothing left behind. "Thief. Slutty little lingerie thief," I remarked to myself, inhaling her lingering perfume to revive my earlier arousal. I felt more alive than ever as I rode home basking in Ice Queen's silent treatment that night. If she only knew of my feverish desires.

Day three: I was back on the job, with a plan in mind. Like a prisoner preparing a jail break, I gathered a few items for the possible return of my pilfering goddess at large. Some items were from home, others procured from the store's back-room and toy-shelf. I was ready.

She never showed up. It was just as well, as I spent the day helping fix the loose railing around the store's front entrance.

Day four: My last day of servitude. I was back on the floor, this time replacing metal coat hangers with the quieter plastic variety. A new community service-opting friend of the manager was in charge, replacing the lady and her assistant. They were going for makeovers together. My mind went into joke overload, picturing those two out irritating the town outside these walls. I had started liking the place, seeing it as a refuge from my predictable home life.

Aha, Miss Sticky Fingers walked in, planning to steal 'who knows what' this time. She pretended not to recognize me as she sauntered past. We had entered into a cat and mouse game to be sure.

I shadowed her travels through the store. I noticed she had the cheek to wear the stolen teddy; the lacy, built in push up bra portion of it rose above her blouse. Her truly titanic endowment needed no enhancement, as they bobbled well above the lace border. What a twit.

I advanced on her position, my scalp afire, thrilling at the hunt. She had nowhere to go; she was cornered, totally cornered. Our eyes bore into each others. She jammed her hand towards her purse, quick draw style but missed. I froze in my tracks.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you!" I snapped. I flashed the toy police badge pinned inside my lapel. She fumed while tossing her purse to the floor. I kicked it under the shoe shelf. A snub nose revolver skidded forth, stopping at my trembling feet. I winced at the possibilities. I pocketed it, while adding, "Come with me Miss."

She huffed and puffed her way out of the store with me on her heels. "Whatcha gonna do, old man? Forty lashes?" she chided, standing in the shaded semi private area alongside the store. Her tits were huge and heaving in the breeze.

"Something like that," I replied. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in?"

"Big deal. So I stole a teddy. At least I don't perv chicks at a thrift store."

"Not perving. It's surveillance for loss prevention," I chuckled, staying in character. "Also, I'm guessing you have no permit for the gun." That shut her up. "C'mon. I'm taking you to the station." I slapped the sex store handcuffs on her before motioning to the back seat of the manager's car. She obeyed.

I slid in behind the wheel and fidgeted with the seat adjuster. Damn that short ass manager.

We were driving around aimlessly, as I didn't have a clue of how to find the police station. I watched in the rear view mirror, savoring my lusty urges as I witnessed her breast tops jouncing with every bump in the road. I hadn't planned on my next move, having treated the whole thing as a theoretical happening. She spoke up.

"S'cuse me, but I have to pee. I'll piss myself if I must," she mused. How stupid did she think I was?

The tumblers in my mind aligned to unlock a solution. "Okay. Let's head out of town. Don't foul the seat, Miss."

"My name is Angelica. What's yours?"

"Just call me Officer Down."

I knew of a special wooded clearing out in the country. It was where I used to enjoy my wife, later returning there to cry when I felt I had no wife at all. This would be perfect. I parked on a bare spot and let her out.

She faked me out with a few hobbling steps, then bolted like a rabbit on meth. I managed a flying tackle, pumped up on adrenaline as I was. She was powerful, twisting out of my grasp, dragging me behind her as I held fast to her spiked heels. She relented, she collapsed, choosing to give herself up to me, tits up and panting.

I was astonished to find my old dish rag of a cock to be rock hard, bringing a tear of joy to my eye and a bead of pre-come to my glans. Half forgetting she was there, I pulled it out of my pants. "Are you gonna fuck me with that thing?" she sputtered, teeth clenching, kicking clumps of sod at me, sliding on the backs of her hands to gain separation.

I plopped down on the ground, whispering, "I dunno, maybe." I hadn't had a boner in years. I trembled as I handled the throbbing weight of it, contemplating a long, drawn out titty fuck.

"Well, can I pee while you decide?" she pleaded. "Really, I won't fight or run or anything. Help me out, Officer Down."

"Oh, alright." I stowed my stiffy on my way to help her out.

Apparently, sex store cuffs were no match for Angelica. The second I was within range, she spun on her side, knocking my legs out from under me, knocking the wind out of me, allowing her the opportunity to pin me down.

I groped around for the gun. Finding it gone, I hoped I had dropped it in the car. No such luck. 'click.' "Oh no," I groaned, looking up at her silhouette splayed against the sky above. She posed like a James Bond girl aiming to kill me.

"On your knees, Officer," she ordered, cuffing my wrists behind my back. "Now you are totally fucked!" She hardly needed to point that out. Angelica kneed my in the shoulder, sending me flat on my back.

"Go ahead. Shoot." I meant every word of it. Make my day.

She glanced around, licking her lips. "Shut up, you aren't worth Hell. I'm a petty thief, nothing more. And I'm positive your badge is 'el fako'," she concluded, nudging my plastic badge with her toes.

She pulled my pants down and away; along with them, my underwear. My cock waved a blind greeting to the breeze. She mounted my face, first pulling the crotch of her panties out of the way to brandish her engorged sex lips. Her pussy smelled like stale urine and fear.

Leaning forward, she stretched to take my cock head between her teeth while crushing my testicles between her hands. I started to scream, only to be quieted by her pussy slapping down over my open mouth. Under threat of her teeth tense on my cock-shaft, I licked the glistening cunt of Angelica. She moaned with begrudging approval. Her moans rippled along the length of my captive cock, causing me to moan as well. Even in my subservient position, I thrilled at her eventual orgasm.

Angelica regained her composure, remembering she was the one in charge. She bounced her full, weighty ass down on my nose, grunting loudly, and started to pee. I gagged on the first of her trickles. She stopped in midstream, fooling me to think it was all she had. She paused to grind her crotch into my face but she wasn't done peeing, not even close. She ensured a tight seal on my open mouth, then let go with full force.

Her scalding, gushing, bitter sweet torrent bulged my cheeks, overflowed my mouth to run into my ears. Some of her piss shot out my nose and I had to swallow some, for fear of drowning under her deadly pussy. She grabbed the root of my shaft as I shook my head, stubbornly refusing to swallow her remaining filth. "Swallow my piss and I'll jack you off, I promise," she laughed. I relaxed my throat and took in her frothy leavings, gulping as she stroked me.

"Ha!" she barked. She jumped to her feet, shifting her red panty crotch back over her slick mound. "Dream on. I wouldn't let one drop your cum touch me, you old bastard. You're barely worthy to lick my pussy." She started towards the car, no doubt planning to drive away and leave me behind, or worse. She stopped walking. "Unless...Wait! I have an idea!" she huffed.

"You wanna come, right?" she continued. I closed my eyes, nodding, hoping for mercy. Standing with her crotch high above my eyes, she bent over to pull my ankles up over my head. She tried to force my hips over my face; I refused to comply, resisting at first. She straddled my up-stretched legs, sitting on my buttocks, paining me beyond what I could stand.

I allowed her to pull my cock down, down, until she was wringing my dripping pre-come onto my lips. She beamed devilishly as she pumped my shaft to erection. "Well, don't you look cute now, you old fuck!" she laughed. She spit on my cock head to lube it further. Her punishing cock tugs made my legs tremble as I entered into a pre orgasmic state.

"Open up!" she hollered. "Catch your spunk for me!" Twisting her dirty hand into my mouth to keep it open, she shook and sighed as my cum shots pounded the back of my throat. "Swallow!" She made sure I took it all by pinching my nostrils shut. I fleetingly thought of how a swig of her piss would wash down my clinging, white fuck cream nicely. "Goodbye, cum bitch. Thanks again for eating my gash," she growled. She left me there tied to a tree, with her panties pulled over my face, just for fun.

I was there all night. I never tried to call for help. I reflected on how it would be nice for me to die now; I'd had enough. At least I'd provide the coyotes with a good meal. Headlights panned the treetops. Oh, what now? I closed my eyes, fearing that bitch had returned with friends: drugged up friends with hard cum filled cocks, friends with full bladders. I started to shake violently.

Instead it was my wife. She was driving the store manager's car. She rolled me over to pick the sex cuff's lock open. "I thought we'd thrown these sick things out," she mumbled, cold as ever. We never talked all the way home or at any time since. A week later, I found the red and black lace up teddy stashed in the trunk of our car. I turned it over and over, joyously in my hands. But when raising it to my face, I stopped cold: it had a bloody tress of black hair tied within it. My wife and I live together in silence still. I do not love her but I do owe her my life.