Hubby's Adventures 08

"Just what the hell is going on here?" called a voice from one of the two figures approaching us.

All seven of us remained lying on the cool grass, as we looked into the dark night, trying in vein to depict details in the emerging silhouettes.

Suddenly, I noticed them reach to their hips and unholster black metallic looking objects.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Omar, next to me, raise himself to his knees, as if he was on the starter's blocks for a hundred metre race.

"What the fuck, man." Omar breathed, mostly to himself.

A moment later, bright lights were shining in my eyes and illuminating narrow, moving spots around us: they were pointing torches at us, not guns, as I'd originally feared.

Apparently, Omar had the same thoughts, and breathed an audible sigh of relief.

"Don't get upset, Osama," came the advice from the second mystery figure, "we're not going to hurt you!"

The words were separated, presumably so it was easier for us to understand.

"Oh shit!" sighed Omar, as if he was being deflated, before turning to me and adding by way of explanation, "It's the Police."

"That's right," the first figure was speaking again now, as if he was just mildly cheesed-off at having to do something on his night shift, "Just put all your clothes back on and climb into the back of the van. There'll be no trouble. Let's just get this over with and we can all get on with our lives."

"Come on! Let's go!" ordered the second voice, with a mixture of anger and authoritarian excitement, "You heard the man, we ain't here to hang around!"

Then the first voice again, "You have the right to, y'know, all the usual shit."

The journey in the Police van was conducted in silence. Not because we'd been told to stay quiet, more because we had nothing really to say, either to the Police, or each other.

The station we were taken to only had two detention cells, each with what I thought were hilariously outdated bars instead of walls. We were separated into males and females and locked in while the arresting officers sat at a desk and started filling in forms on their respective computers.

We sat, mainly in silence, for what felt like a few hours, unable to sleep, but dozy.

"Ok," started the more senior of the two officers, in his already familiar laid-back, almost annoyed style, "who wants to go first?"

We all looked up as we came back to our senses and at first I didn't know what he meant, but Leslie seemed to be very well versed in these kind of situations, and walked to the front of the ladies cell.

"I'll go first, if you like." she cooed, and when the officer looked up at her, she smiled the coolest smile I'd ever seen, considering the circumstances, "but you'll have to come closer as I can't see you properly from all the way over there. I like to lip read."

Leslie said the last two words very slowly, pouting as she did so. I wondered what the fuck she was doing: trying to get us into more trouble?

But to my amazement, and by the look on the junior officer's face, his too, the older cop stood up from his desk and walked over to the women's cell, standing inches from Leslie.

"That's better," Leslie purred, "now, what do you want?" And then added, like an afterthought, with a raised eyebrow, "to know."

The officer in front of her visibly gulped, and that seemed to induce another smile from her. Now, smiling a knowing smile, she looked down at his tubby tummy, almost obscuring the belt he wore from which a bunch of keys hung.

"This uniform looks uncomfortably tight," she started, and began her imperceptibly slow descent to her knees, suggesting on the way, "maybe I can help you relax."

The officer started breathing more heavily. So much so, that his colleague exclaimed, "Oh for fuck's sake! What are you doing?" But the experienced man at the cell stood his ground.

Now Leslie was on her knees, staring at the uniformed crotch, inches from her face on the other side of the bars.

"Ooh baby," she purred, "this looks very tight. So uncomfortable." And with that, she reached a slender arm through the bars toward the bulge forming in the cop's trousers. When her slowly moving hand finally reached the object she was focussing on, the cop seemed to shudder, and immediately stepped forward so he was flat against the bars.

Leslie sniggered without taking her eyes off the prize, and felt for the zipper. Having secured it between thumb and finger, she gently, slowly unzipped the uniform trousers. When the fly was open all the way down, she released her grip on the zip, and reached inside.

"mmMmm" she hummed excitedly, "no wonder they looked so tight! Poor baby! Let me help you out with this big, beautiful thing."

Leslie gently released the cock from the uniform and it wasn't as impressive as she had led us to believe. In fact, I almost burst out laughing at the disparity between her description and the evidence before us. Still, Leslie kept up the pretence.

"Ahhh, is all this for me?" she asked, rhetorically, "Oh it's so beautiful and hard!" And she wrapped her fingers around it, entirely covering it from base to tip with the fingers of one hand, playfully squeezing it a couple of times to emphasize her point.

Although his enormous stomach wouldn't permit it, he tried to get further toward the woman who was pleasuring him. And Leslie stepped her game up a gear.

"Oh I wish I could suck it. I'd love to feel that cock in my mouth. I'd love to swirl my tongue round and round that big cock." she moaned in possibly the sexiest voice I'd ever heard.

The cop pushed himself so tightly against the bars, I thought he was going to injure himself. At last, the tiniest bit of cop cock made it through the bars into the women's cell. Leslie put her face against the other side of those bars and took that tiny bit of dick in her mouth. There was probably less than an inch she could get to, but still managed to hum her approval into it.

The junior cop had resigned himself to his computer screen, and seemed resolved not to look round at the spectacle unfolding behind him. I looked back at the cop getting sucked off and his eyes were shut tight. No one can handle Leslie's blowjobs for long without cumming, and this overweight cop was no exception.

Leslie, expert that she is, must have known he was close too, and reached her other hand through the bars toward that bunch of keys.

Slowly, slowly her hand hovered toward freedom, not wanting to make them jangle. Delicately, her amazing fingers unhooked the clasp that held the metallic shapes to his belt, whilst her other hand, mouth and tongue held him on the edge of heaven.

All us detainees watched, with baited breath, as she released the bunch from his waist and pulled them back into the women's cell without clanging them on the bars.

Simultaneously, the cop was clearly releasing his other possession into the women's cell, as he grunted a rough, "Oh fuck!"

Leslie pulled her head back and away from the cell door and threw the keys to Abi. Abi caught them and immediately stepped to one side of the cell with all the others, avoiding the first eruptions from the cock of the fat man by the bars of the door.

The first two fingers and thumb stroking that little prick, were all that was now needed for spurt after spurt of cum to shoot out of that tiny cock, and the ladies politely waited for him to finish, which took a lot longer than anyone anticipated. Sofi looked round at me during the fountain exhibition and I raised my eyebrows in a kind of, "fair play" face, admitting that the guy had a lot of cum to get rid of. Some shots were clearing the floor of the six foot cell, and landing with a "splat" at the bottom of the opposite wall! Everyone was now watching each high-pressure shot with a mixture of fascination and awe.

After the fifth or sixth blast, even Leslie seemed surprised and pouted, "oh baby!" as she continued to stroke, focussing on helping this guy finish his marathon climax. Shot number seven landed just in front of him, and it seemed to all the world as though he was drying up, so Leslie changed her grip slightly, resting her thumb underneath his thumbnail-sized helmet. But this only resulted in him getting more excited, and more, high-velocity shots followed.

This second-wind excited some gasps from Sofi and Emma gasped too, adding "Oh my God! Look at all that cum on the floor!"

She was right to be amazed. This guy had been carrying what looked like a quarter of a pint of semen around, and it was taking a long time to escape through that tiny valve of a cock. Leslie's fingers and thumb were also getting a coating, as there was a dribble between shots.

Eventually, the cop started breathing again with an audible sigh and his balls calmed down. We looked at the quite impressive pool of semen on the concrete floor, as Leslie cleaned her hands with a wipe Sofi handed her. He must have been saving that up for months! Sofi used a second wipe to clean up the residue from the cop's cock, before taking it between her thumb and finger, and gently placing it back in the uniform.

Now Abi felt she could make it to the door without being hit by a stray blast. She unlocked the door and opened it, saying "Excuse me." to the exhausted cop as she walked past him.

The other ladies followed as Abi unlocked our cell.

Silently, we walked single file out the station, but the young cop noticed and said to Leslie, spinning round in his chair to face her, with his knees wide apart, "Hold on. Now it's my turn."

Without breaking her stride, Leslie looked at him and snapped, "Fuck off!"

I haven't the words to describe the look on his face, but without doubt, it was just about the funniest thing I ever saw. Even the older cop had to pretend to wipe his face to hide his laugh.

We waltzed right out that station just as the sun was coming up. In the cool light of morning, we all recognised where we were and decided we should all head to the cafe for early coffee.