The Murdered Football Player Ch. 01

The order of my stories to read is:

Todd & Melina series, Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series, Russian Roulette series, Case of the Murdered Lovers series, Case of the Murdered Chessplayer series, Case of the Executed Evangelist series, The Swap series, Interludes 6-10.

The Murdered Football Player, Ch. 01

Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.

This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, nor cults, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.

Part 1 - The Party

The gentle slurps and smacks of their deep, tongue-twining kiss could be heard in the small room, an office fixed up to be a makeshift bedroom.

The drop-dead beautiful woman was in her late thirties. Her hair was naturally auburn, but she applied coloring to make it a lighter shade of red. She was barely 5'2" in height, and wore very high heels, the only clothing that would be left on her smoking hot body when her young lover was through undressing her as they kissed hotly.

Her body was in fantastic shape, toned and muscular like an athlete or a dancer. Her legs were sensational, slim thighs, shapely calves tapering to slender ankles and elegant, sexy feet. Her hands were also exquisite, and the diamond of her engagement ring sparkled as the gold of her wedding band shone lustrously. Her breasts were large, accented by 'artificial means'.

The young man with her was a University football player. His name was Jefferson Davis Jackson, "Jeff" for short. He was 6'4" tall with light brown hair. His body looked as if it were chiseled out of rock, toned by brutal workouts, football practices, and performance-enhancing drugs. His balls were large and his penis was huge; he wondered how the smallish woman was able to take his full length every time he sank it into her.

"Mmmm, baby, why don't you drink this champagne down while I sit on the bed and suck your big cock, okay?" the woman said, handing the handsome stud a full glass of bubbly while sitting her melt-in-your-mouth, heart-shaped ass onto the edge of the bed and sliding her full, pouty lips over his throbbing weapon of lust. The boy enjoyed the sight of his large white cock fucking the woman's gorgeous face, her full lips stretching to accommodate his girth, her large eyes looking up at him submissively as she deep-throated him with ease. She was one of the most beautiful of the trophy wives that the rich alumni brought to these parties for the players to fuck, and the boy intended to take plenty of pleasure from her.

"Ohhhhhhh... Janet, you give the best god-damn head I have ever had, baby." he said between long swigs of champagne.

"Aww, thank you, Jeff. I love sucking your cock. It's so big and thick." Janet replied, smiling sweetly up at her young stud before licking up and down his veiny cockshaft and sucking on his big, low-hanging balls. She absolutely loved fucking these young college boys, and this was her second lover this evening. He was one of her absolute favorites, and she couldn't wait to get him inside her and feel him deeply fucking her.

"Is that good champagne?" she asked. She stood up, took the container and poured him another full glass. "Drink up, baby, and then you can fuck me."

Jeff watched as the gorgeous woman laid back on the bed, barely more than one of those steel dorm beds with a mattress on it, brought in specially for this evening and these events. He quaffed his drink, then joined the woman on the bed, pushing her legs up and back and hooking them over his rock-hard, muscular arms. Janet reached down and grabbed something else of his that was rock hard, and guided his big, ready penis to the gaping slit of her swollen vagina.

"Oh God!" she gasped as the boy drove his ass forward and sank his long, thick meat balls deep into her sopping wet cunt.

"Jeez, baby, your cunt is so fucking wet!" the boy gasped. "That must have been one big load he shot up into you!"

"Oh yeah, baby, it was." Janet said. "I know how much you like sloppy seconds, and fucking a nasty, well-filled pussy!"

"Yeah baby, you know I like that." the boy said as he began pistoning in and out of the married woman's cum-filled pussy with hard, driving strokes. He didn't mind at all that he was getting some sloppy seconds; that, and the lube she'd applied, made her pussy wet and slick for his thick length, and he was able to fuck her easily.

The rutting couple lustily mated for several long minutes, with the woman's high-heeled feet resting on his broad upper arms. The boy often liked to suck her toes and heels, but in this case he just wanted to fuck her and work out the large nut that had been building inside him for a couple of days. He had not had sex nor come in four days, since fucking that beautiful co-ed, practically date-raping her, though she had been leading him on.

What was that girl's name, Candy? he thought to himself. It made him even hotter to know that she was the girlfriend of some geeky guy, in fact the guy who was the waiter serving drinks here at this party. He loved fucking other guys' women, enjoying their helplessness as he exerted his male dominance and power.

"Oh God, Jeff!" Janet gasped as she writhed hotly beneath the boy. "You really have one hell of a fantasy going tonight, dontcha? You are really fucking the Jesus shit out of me!"

"It's because you're so fucking beautiful and hot, baby." he said smoothly. "And you're hot wet pussy is about to make me come."

"Oh yeah, baby, do it. Come inside me, baby." Janet invited, realizing that the stud was about to climb her all the way and get his nut inside her.

"Oh yeah, here it comes, baby!" Jeff gasped. Dizziness overwhelmed him as pulse after pulse of his rod shot wad after wad of thick, ropy jism into Janet's hot, clenching cunt, mixing with her previous young lover's sperm in a potent baby-making mix. The boy gasped, trying to catch his breath as his mind fogged. His hands clutched at the woman, his fingernails digging into her soft, supple skin.

"Oh honey, that was good, the best ever." the woman gasped as the boy collapsed his full weight down onto her. She endured it, catching her breath for a few seconds, before saying "Okay honey, lift up a little bit."

Jeff didn't move.

Janet was a strong woman, but as she pushed up hard she was only able to get the heavy, muscular young man to roll off to the side. With no room on the little bed, he fell onto his back onto the floor. Looking down at his open, glazed eyes, the woman was shocked to see that he wasn't moving nor breathing.

"Hey, are you all right?" she said, reaching down and shaking him. No response. As she realized what was happening, she began to panic. Feeling for a pulse and finding none, she screamed for help...

-------------------------

The Country Club was not like the Heritage Cloisters Club; this was a simple building with a meeting area, like a Kiwanis Clubhouse, and some smaller rooms down one side, which tonight were being used as bedrooms by the Alumni's wives to sexually service the football players.

Outside was a pool and area for grilling food with picnic tables and canopies. The semi-public golf course, which could not be seen in the darkness, stretched behind the clubhouse. Due to agricultural chemicals draining into the big creek, or small river, that wound through the course and was used to irrigate it, the course was one of the finest in the State.

The party was being attended by 20 influential University alumni, six wives, and 14 football players. Of course no coaches or other University officials were at this most "unofficial" of events.

Tom Riordan, whose wife Janet was vigorously copulating with Jeff Jackson, approached the younger University alumnus.

"Hi Phillip." he said. "This is your first 'private' alumni-player party, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir, it is." Phillip said. He'd made a fortune in a computer programming company when he'd sold out to a much bigger competitor, and he'd made his first large contribution to the school just a couple of months before.

"Great, and please, call me Tom. We're all equals here; we're not the really bigshot donors like Henry Wargrave or J.P. Goldman." Tom said. "Did you bring the hundreds like I asked you to?"

"Yes, two thousand dollars." Phillip said.

"Good, me too." Tom said. "Three kids are finishing up fucking our wives, we're just waiting for them now. Once they're done, we're going to finish the evening off."

"What will we do?" Phillip asked naively.

Tom spoke as if making a military action report, but softening his voice: "Everyone will say their goodbyes, then we're going to send the all the players inside the clubhouse and close the door. Then we alumni are going to throw the green dollar bills into the swimming pool, and then leave. Only the players will be here, and after we all leave they can come out and get the money out of the pool. They'll probably make their freshmen jump in the pool and retrieve the bills, then they evenly split the money."

"Wow, you don't have a problem with your wife having sex with the players?" Phillip asked, unable to get over the shock of what this party was about, not even yet comprehending about the verboten money payments.

"Are you kidding?" Tom said. "My wife Janet absolutely loves these events, she can't wait for the next one to come around. And the other wives that are here, they are here to get fucked by these athletes, it's their joy in life, and the boys love fucking them. What college-age guy wouldn't love to fuck the shit out of a hot trophy wife like Janet or those other women?"

"And the husbands are good with it also." Tom continued. "Janet and I are swingers, and some of the other couples have open marriages. Phillip, you'd be surprised how many couples in our County are swinging and swapping."

"Wow." said Phillip. "I guess I've got a lot to learn about things."

Tom guffawed. "Oh yes, and just wait until you're invited to one of University President Wellman's 'private' parties. His wife is the hottest-- oh, what's the matter dear?"

Janet Riordan was at the entrance to the clubhouse, furiously waving to get her husband's attention. "Tom, come here, quickly!" she said, trying to keep her voice low.

"What is it dear? And why aren't you dressed?" Tom asked innocently.

"WOULD YOU COME HERE, GOD DAMN YOU??!?!" Janet screamed, near hysteria, her face red and furious with anger as well as panic. Almost everyone looked over at her.

"Dammit, Janet, what the hell do you want?" Tom said, angry at being spoken to by his wife that way, and especially in public. He was walking toward the door when Janet stepped outside, naked and only covered in the front by the towel she was holding to her breasts, grabbed his arm and began violently pulling him into the clubhouse.

"Jesus Christ, bitch, what the fuck is wrong with you?" Tom Riordan said angrily.

"God dammit Tom, you are such a fucking ass! Jeff is dead!" Janet yelled, trying to pull Tom to the back rooms. "He collapsed and he's not breathing! Would you fucking COME ON, Dickhead?!?!?"

Tom Riordan gasped as he heard the words. He turned to Phillip, who had followed him into the clubhouse main room, and said "Get Dr. Keene to come in here. Keep everyone else out, especially the players." Tom continued following Janet into her room. Jeff Jackson was lying on the floor on his back, his eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling.

Phillip and Dr. Keene quickly arrived. The doctor knelt by the body and checked for a pulse, then maneuvered the athlete's head up and back and checked for breathing. He then checked the kid's eyes before turning back to the door, where several alumni had gathered, including the other wives that had heard the commotion.

"He's dead."

Part 2 - The Crime Scene

At four o'clock in the morning I got the phone call. It was Tanya Perlman.

"We've got a dead body on County Road 2. Naked young man, maybe a college kid." she reported. "Crime Lab is on the way."

"I'll be right there." I said. I hustled to get dressed, putting on a regular shirt, "heavy" work slacks, and my "heavy shoes", which weren't quite boots but were good for walking around in the outdoors and around outdoor crime scenes.

It was early Saturday morning near the end of August. The University would be coming back into session in a week. The dorms were opening Monday morning and students would be coming in. The first football game of the season was an away game this year, but was one week from today, next Saturday. The Town was bracing for the onrush of tens of thousands of students, and it always amazed me how the Town seemed to open up and flourish like a budding flower in the Spring. I was a relative newcomer, still not used to the shock of the transition.

County Road 2 ran east-west just inside the County's southern border. Coltrane County was to the south on the way towards Midtown and the central part of the State. The road was little more than a farm road, barely adequately paved and very rarely used by anyone or anything except local farmers and their vehicles and equipment. I think I might have driven on it one time before.

Coltrane County to our south was very rural and agricultural and had only three items of interest. The first was Lake Ocheekobee Golf and Country Club, which sported an excellent golf course. The second was a piece of property on the River that ran from our County, a property which was owned and occupied by a group known as "The Vision." They called themselves a "self-help" organization, and had seminars all over the country, complete with fire walks. But the headquarters of "The Vision" in Coltrane County was like a fortress, surrounded with fences and armed security, and some said that it was actually some kind of cult.

The third was that the State Hospital for Mental Diseases, a very nice name for the State Insane Asylum, was in Coltrane County, more on the northeastern side and nearer Nextdoor County than ours. "The Asylum", as we called it, was where seriously ill mental patients were taken, and one side of it was the prison for persons in the State found "guilty but insane." It was a forbidding place, a hospital that no one of sound mind ever wanted to see.

None of that mattered to me at the moment as I headed down the main South Road, out of Town and through the small hamlet of Junction Station. As I neared the county line I turned left on to County Road 2. About three miles later I came upon the flashing lights of the police cars and EMS ambulance.

Detectives Martin Nash and Diana Torres were at the scene, as well as Tanya Perlman, her Crime Lab team, two EMTs and three uniformed officers. One was Pete Feeley, one was the rookie Patrolman Johnson, and the third was Patrolman Hicks.

"My goodness, it's a Detective convention. Martin, Diana." I said in greeting as I walked up, the meaning of my words being that it was unusual to have three Detectives on the scene (besides myself), and so quickly. "Whaddya got, Perlman?"

"And good morning to you too, Lieutenant." Tanya said. "This is a strange one, right up your alley."

A dirt farm road going north-south crossed County Road 2 just a few meters down from where we were. The County Line was literally three feet south of County Road 2, so the southbound dirt road immediately went into Coltrane County, and the northbound road went towards the farmhouses of this land's owners, about a mile away and slightly uphill of us.

There was an irrigation ditch that paralleled the dirt road, to the left (west) side. It became a culvert, a wider and deeper hole, right near the road. Peering into the hole, I saw by the klieg lights set up to illuminate it that a body of a young man was lying on his left side. He was white, naked, and I could not see any blood. I did notice that his penis was elongated and large.

"Lieutenant, why are all of your crime victims dying while having sex?" Tanya Perlman asked me, obviously messing with me.

"I see it, Perlman." I replied, needling her back. "And it seeeeeems to be par-for-the-course for your County, which I've come to know and love. What did your lab people find?"

"Very little, so far." Tanya said. "No marks on him. Patrolmen Hicks and Johnson were the first here, and Hicks went down to check the body to see if he was alive or dead while Johnson looked around for tire prints, footprints and clothing. He secured off the southbound dirt road because there are tire prints there, but that's all we found."

"Patrolman Johnson," I said. "Did you go into Coltrane County?"

"I might have shined my light into it, but didn't go very far." Patrolman Johnson said. As I looked down the road I could see his footprints at the edge going as far as my light could see.

"I made sure no tracks were where I stepped." Johnson said.

"Good job, Johnson." I said, walking back towards the crime scene where the body was. "Nothing around the culvert here?"

"No sir." Johnson said. "Nothing discernible that I could make out. Hicks also tried to look before he stepped when he went down into the culvert."

"I didn't see anything, sir." said Hicks. "I tried to be careful, but I thought I had to check to make sure the guy wasn't alive."

"You absolutely did the right thing. Both of you. Good job." I said. "Okay, Tanya, if the Crime Lab is done, let's get the guy out of there so you can examine him up here."

The process was laborious, and with everyone including myself helping, we managed to get the 240 pounds of dead young man out of the ditch.

"Not a mark anywhere, Lieutenant." one of the EMTs said. I noted by his rank that he was a full Paramedic, the EMS's equivalent of a sergeant rank in the Police Force. Of course they had to be qualified by education and certifications as well as time and grade in the EMS service.

"Any idea what killed him, Paramedic?" I asked.

"No sir." he said. "I see some bruises here and there on his arms and legs, but they don't look fresh, nor do they look all that harmful to his life."

An insight occurred to me. "You know, I wonder if he's a football player." I said. "That would explain him having some bruises, as well as his athletic muscular development. The University football team has just broken their summer camp and the season starts next weekend. Martin, that might be a shortcut to identifying him: check with the University Police when we get back to Town and have them ascertain if there are any missing University athletes."

"Yes sir." Martin Nash said. He took a photograph of the dead man with his cellphone and transmitted it to Headquarters with a message to begin attempting to identify the body. Ah, the wonders of modern technology.

Speaking of which, I used my own cellphone to make a phone call to Britt Maxwell of the University Police, rousing her out of bed and asking her to come to the scene with her SBI Reserve badge in her possession.

Tanya Perlman was in the ditch, which was much taller than she was. I carefully made my way down into the ditch and began looking for clues.

"Not a damn thing." Tanya said. "No blood, no scraps of cloth..."

"That's curious." I said, looking at the indentation where the young man had impacted the soft soil. I pointed to it. "He landed exactly as we found him. No movement, no scratching at the dirt, no attempt to get up. That means that he was already dead when he was thrown into this ditch. Oh, and that reminds me..."

I climbed out of the culvert as Pete Feeley helped Tanya to get back topside. It was still dark but the first glimmers of dawn were appearing in the eastern sky.