Oh, Those Boots! Ch. 04

"Rii-iight. So how about joining me in the shower, Mr Bond? Afterward we can talk about plans for the evening."

* * *

"Anyone notice your hickies today?" We sat in the living room, Jackie in the armchair and me on the sofa, both nude except for our towels.

"No. And the scarf kept me hot and bothered all day long. I wore it to the side. I got many compliments, and I'm sure several people would like to fuck me tonight. They're probably jerking off as we speak."

"It's all because you need to be fucked. You need it often and and you need it hard. Maybe you said that or maybe I'm just imaging it, but it's the truth. Also, I think you said something earlier about how you'd like it better if we'd have a good hot quickie before we go out. I've been hot and bothered all day, too. So, was that a quickie? To sate the hot and bothered?"

"I said I'm nearly always in heat, if you'll remember, Buck-boy. And no, I don't think that was a quickie. It was a full-on, fantastic ass-fuck."

"I thought so, too. Now answer me a question."

"Answer me these questions three, ere the other side o' the bridge ye see?"

I laughed at the movie reference. "Something like that. But I only have one."

"Yes?"

"How many times did you masturbate today?"

She was quiet for a moment. "At least three. I might have lost count. Once after my first meeting. Then again after my second meeting, different office. That's when I probably lost count. Maybe one more, maybe two. Then here before you got back. Maybe a half hour or so before you got back."

"And your scarf?" I asked.

"Like a bandit, you could say," she answered. "Over my nose & mouth each time. And when I got back, just after I put on my eyemask and took off my blouse."

The mental image was hot. Scorching hot. "So shall we spread some of this heat around?" I asked.

"As in going out tonight? You're taking a risk, aren't you, Michael the Panty Shredder? I might pick up someone better. What do you think of that?"

Shit, I thought: she wouldn't dare, would she? She didn't seem the type to be having one-night stands every single night. Maybe a three to four week stand, but not one night.

"Ha! Got you! You wouldn't make much of a poker player. Those expressive eyes give everything away!"

* * *

"Help me with this, will you?" she asked. She picked up a black corset and began to put it on. "It''s hard to pull it tight by myself."

I took the laces and began pulling. I started getting hard again, watching her wiggle and adjust it over her waist and chest.

"That's good," she said. She rolled on new stockings and then pulled on a pair of jeans. I watched with lustful eyes as she stepped into a different pair of boots and zipped them up over her jeans. The boots were apparently meant for dancing. And all those other good things.

"Do you ever wear anything but boots?" I asked.

"Not in the winter, no. They keep my legs warm. And no, I don't have anything else on this trip. Just boots. Well, boots and gym shoes. If you want to work out, that is."

"So you're a boot chick." I contemplated this while looking forward to working out with her.

"You could say that, yes. They're sexy, and most men adore them. Like you."

That was the truth. Besides her boots and jeans and corset, she wore a snug fitting sweater that highlighted her curves and left some delicious cleavage exposed. I dressed as usual in a collared shirt, but with my leather vest this time. I had an idea in mind, but I wanted her to say it. Shortly we were out the door.

"Say, do you carry a badge?"

That was it; she got it without suggestion or prompting. Would she take the rest? "I don't." We stepped out into the howling wind and it whipped my duster and her overcoat around our knees. "Why? What do I look like, Wyatt Earp?"

"Now you mention it, yeah, a little. Wyatt Earp without the handlebar mustache?"

"No badge." I ignored the Old West comparison and held my hat against a sudden gust. "Why?" We made it to my car. I unlocked the doors and helped her in.

"Because I think I'd like you to arrest me," she answered. "In public."

"So I should go back and get my hardware?"

"Yes. I'll wait here. And make sure I'm surprised when you bust me."

Excellent! This was going to be a fun and interesting evening. I came back in a moment with my "hardware," sans gun. I held Jackie's gloves, too. "Here. I think you'll want these."

"Thank you, dahling," she answered as she pulled them on. "I forgot them, and my hands were getting cold."

"You're welcome. And say, if you want me to bust you for real, I need a couple of pics. Or maybe you have one or two?"

"Doing what?"

"Just get out of the car and walk along that fence. Or something. Casual-like. I'll take it from there. Don't pose. You don't know someone's taking your photo. It's long distance. You have no idea they were taken."

We transferred a couple of her pics over to my phone in addition to the ones I'd just taken. Picture perfect, and just exactly what I'd use. I started the car and we drove on in silence for a while.

"So what is it, exactly, that you do?" she asked.

"I'm a trainer," I answered.

"Bullshit. I walk into a gym, sign up with a personal trainer, and I work out and get fit and trim. You, however, do something else."

"You're prying."

"And you're not telling."

I was enjoying this new-found mystique. "No. I'm not telling. And no, I'm not a personal trainer. I teach ass-kickery and firearms and self-defense and personal protection," I answered. "Among other things."

"Like panty shredding."

"If need be, yes. But I'll bet that was the first time you had your panties shredded."

"Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn't. Mister Bond."

I was looking for the next exit that would have a similar sort of restaurant & bar combination. "What else?" she asked. She clearly wasn't going to stop.

I sighed. "Oh, all right. I'm a bounty hunter, too. I find and recover bail jumpers. And I'm a skip tracer." In the darkness I sensed her shift in her seat. "And I do carry ID and warrants for that."

"Then you'll have to arrest me, Dahling," she said after a while. "I was taken in for disturbing the peace, unseemly conduct, and lewd behavior in public. As I recall I posted a $100 bond and was released on my own recognizance, pending review of my case. But then I had to leave town."

"For real? When was this? I wouldn't expect that of a nice, refined, elegant lady."

"Junior year in college. I wasn't so refined then."

I laughed. "You're joking."

"I'm not. My friends and I were bar hopping, a bunch of us were roaring drunk -- me included -- and I mooned a cop car. Happened there was a cop in it at the time. I got run in."

I had to pull over or risk losing control of the car, I was laughing so hard.

"It's not funny!" She didn't sound convinced it wasn't funny.

"It is. But I gather you mended your ways." I could barely speak through the laughter.

"More or less, but I never went back to court, never made good on the bond. I'm not sure if there's a warrant out there or not."

"I doubt it. Not for $100. But yes, I should take you in. Why didn't you go back and make good?"

"'Cause the semester was over and I was going home for the break."

"Got it. So regardless of your drunken antics, you were out on bail, and you jumped."

"Yeah, that's pretty much it."

"Nice. Well, in that case, I should definitely haul you in, if only for the comedy. I can see it now: 'Oi! Bailiff! Here's the chick what mooned Sgt Frisco last year!'"

"Bastard."

I wasn't laughing too hard to drive, but hard enough I couldn't answer. "I think I have the whole picture now," I finally said. "But as I recall, I did pick you up." I put the car in gear and drove on.

"Wrong, Panty-Shredder. I picked you up."

"Oh, all right. Whichever. Anyway, here's one that looks good."

There was a likely-looking prospect two exits down the road. The last miles passed in relative quiet. I guided the car up the ramp. "Looks like a good place to find a jumper, wouldn't you say? And oh, by the way," I said, "if you posted a $100 bond, I'd only get about ten bucks for hauling you in."

"Scarcely enough for two drinks here," she said. She pulled her coat collar up. Snow flurries struck the windows. "What is with this weather, anyway?"

"Invites people to stay indoors with their mates and make their own heat, is what."

"Ya sure ya betcha, as you said this morning. But we both like the night life, too, I'll go in and get warm. See you in a few?" she asked.

Interesting turn of phrase, I thought. I filed it away for future use. I stopped at the corner of the building. "Yeah. I don't imagine it'll take long for you to get warm, Dahling. Maybe I could peel you away from another guy and bust you." I leaned over to kiss her, and she responded full-on with tongue. I sought her breasts with one hand and caressed her face, chin, and neck with the other. We finally broke apart.

"Just make it happen. See you." She stepped out and closed the door behind her. I watched her get out of the car and walk into the restaurant. Her jeans tucked into her boots, which you could just see below her overcoat, made an enticing picture.

Now what? Drive around and wait.