Palmer Ch. 02

DeVere hadn't thrown him out. He'd listened. In the five years Bannerman had worked there, the savings he'd initiated had actually exceeded three million per annum. He was now DeVere's most valuable, and most trusted, employee.

In return, DeVere had solidified Bannerman's loyalty by providing him with a salary and bonus scheme that ensured an extravagant lifestyle. The lifestyle of a top executive. Expensive holidays, private jets, gourmet restaurants were all at his beck and call.

And on the rare occasions that one of his young conquests objected to Harry's refusal to pay them, Dominic would intervene to provide a cast iron alibi that proved Harry couldn't have been involved at that particular time. He'd been in a board meeting, of course.

And a small cash inducement always helped them go away for good.

But while Devere had begun by simply taking advantage of Bannerman's computer and financial genius, times had changed. The man with the receding hairline had developed into his number two.

Wherever there was information to be found, or dirty work to be carried out, the middle-aged fat man was invariably heavily involved.

When his phone rang, he checked the caller extension. "I'll be right there, sir," he answered, without waiting for his boss to speak.

He took the private elevator up, punching in the intricate key code. DeVere was looking out of the window when he arrived.

"Harry, I want you to review the laws pertaining to party political contributions. And the way we make such contributions. If I pay a million a year for the next five years, I want to get half my money back."

"Half..." Harry began. That was a tall order, even for him.

"Find a way," DeVere snapped. "And I want every single penny accounted for in such a way that it will stand up to the most rigorous government examination. Clear?"

"Yes, sir," Harry barked. There were times DeVere expected him to be a miracle worker.

"Oh yes, and I want a million ready for transfer immediately after the MP's vote next month. I'll sign the necessary requisition the day before."

Bannerman nodded. "No problem. We'll ensure they're a number of small, personal contributions, maximum of fifty thou, say? It may be we can backdate..."

"Harry," DeVere interrupted. "I'm not interested in how. Once you've got it all worked out, we can go through it together."

And they would, thought Bannerman. DeVere insisted on checking everything personally. The only time Harry had ever made a mistake, he'd been given a chilling warning. He'd never do that again.

"Is that all, sir?" Harry asked, his thick lips rolling back in a fat, deferential smile.

DeVere's nod was dismissive.

***

At the same time that Bannerman was being dismissed from DeVere's office, Sandra Wilson was opening the door of her small apartment to the snow-white haired cop.

"Alex," she smiled. "Twenty minutes late."

He stroked her body with his eyes as she stepped to one side to allow him to enter. It was clear from her strawberry smell that she'd showered before she'd changed. Her black, skin-tight jeans looked good on her tall, lean body, as did the black tank top.

He still couldn't believe this was happening; he still kept waiting to wake up from the fantasy. He was nearly sixty, for God's sake. What she saw in such a gruff, often miserable old cop puzzled him.

He'd lusted over her modelesque body since she'd been assigned to him. She was just twenty-three at the time, so innocent. In the past ten years, she'd matured into a graceful beauty, although the long hours in Vice and her divorce had added a few more lines around her eyes.

"God, I want you," Wilson said, rolling her eyes as she echoed his thoughts.

She led him into her small living room, whipping the tight tank top over her head as she did so. The quick action dislodged the elastic that held her hair up. The dark waves bounced around her face and shoulders. She'd blow-dried it. Just for him? "Come on," she beckoned, glancing at him over her shoulder. Her bangs had caught in the gloss of her lips.

Goodwin felt his heart leap in his chest just a fraction before his cock began to unfurl. He stood at the entrance to the room, watching.

Sandra moved over to her couch - a beat up old thing that had seen better days. Keeping her back to him, she unsnapped the top button of her jeans and began to shimmy out of the tight, black denim.

"Well, just going to stand there?" she asked as she stepped out of them. Her black, satin thong - which matched her demi bra - plunged between her tight, ass cheeks as she came to a stop before her couch.

"Just admiring the view, " he joked without moving. She had almost no body fat on her. Her pale, lightly freckled body was built like a tigress. He watched her sinuous muscles shift as she reached behind her and unclasped her bra.

Again, Wilson rolled her eyes, although this time her lips were curled up in a smile. "Why don't you admire a little closer?" she asking, turning to face him. She had small, firm breasts capped with round little nipples that stuck out like eraser tips.

Goodwin unrooted himself at last, crossing to her as he pulled off his wrinkled, string tie. The dark haired woman sat back on the edge of the table as he stepped into her. Their lips came together like parched wanderers in an oasis.

Sandra helped her partner divest of the rest of his clothing, sliding her hand into his boxers impatiently so she could feel his rigid member.Geez, her mind screamed,I need this cock!

He pushed his boxers down his legs as she whisked her thong away.

"If anyone knew about us, we could lose our jobs," she warned as she took hold of his thick manhood and placed it against her pussy.

"I know that," the older cop said gruffly. He knew it all too well. He'd seen it happen before, with some of his best friends. The head of his cock rub across the younger detective's smooth pussy lips as she lifted her ass off the table.

His cock lurched.

Last week, she'd been hairy and unkempt. He hadn't minded, of course. It went well with her outward exhaustion. Now, he noted with a quick glance between their legs, she'd sculpted her dark hair into a trimmed wedge of curls atop her buttery soft folds.

"So you like it when Sandra shaves?" she asked devilishly, jutting her hips upward as his cock sank into her.

"You're such a slut!" he growled against her ear as she adjusted to his girth.

"And you love it, don't you, baby? Say it."

"Fuck yeah. I love it!"

"Then fuck me, Alex," she cried, her hard ass sliding across the smooth wooden table.

There was no more talk. Only grunts. His mouth closed on hers, jamming his tongue hard down her throat. Her hands were on his snow-white hair, gripping it tighter in her lust.

Goodman picked her slender body up. She squealed in surprise, looping her legs around his back. She clung to his neck as he shifted them over to the couch, keeping his cock half-buried in her. He dropped her onto the beat-up cushions, the momentum driving his cock as deep as it would go into his partner.

"Ugh God!" she cried, clenching her teeth as the pleasure bordered on pain. Her heels dug harder into his ass as he really began to thrust.

"Ah, ah, AH!" Sandra's spring-tight body stiffened even harder. She dug her nails into Goodwin's back as she tried to bend him down into her cumming body. The older man didn't budge, his body as solid and unmoving as ever.

"Geez, Alex, you make me feel like I'm in my twenties again," she laughed huskily as they readjusted.

The white-haired detective sank into the couch as his naked partner climbed into his lap. The feeling was exquisite as she sank down onto him.

He just grunted in response, although she made him feel so much younger, too. He hadn't had this much fun with a woman since the early parts of his failed marriage.

"Mmm... Alex, I love the way you fill me," she growled, resting her arms on his muscular chest as she pushed herself back up to a straddle. Her head dropped backwards every time she thrust downwards on his hard cock.

Their eyes locked on each other's as she took her pleasure and gave him his. She was gyrating her hips in tiny circles now, her eyes narrowing at the sensation, and only when she heard his groans turn to growls did she begin to ride him hard, resuming the up-and-down momentum of her athletic hips.

That was it. She had the perfect angle and his cock nudged right across her g-spot. "Geez, Alex. Yes... yes..."

She gritted her teeth as her head fell onto her chest, her body trembling as another orgasm found her. "Fuck yessssssssss!"

Goodwin allowed her to ride out her peak. Well, most of it, anyway. Before she'd fully recovered, he scooped her trembling body into his arms and carried her into her bedroom. His body surged with renewed vigor. This beast had found his second wind, and he was going to devour his prey whole.

Tossing her onto her unkempt bed, he crawled in between her long legs. Her pink furrow was loose from the sex. The flower was near full bloom. He dove his head in, eating her neatly shaved sex with years of experience behind him.

Her sex petals were softer than anything he'd had the pleasure of running his tongue along - and loose enough now that he couldn't pass up sucking them whole between his lips like the juice from an orange slice.

"Ngh ah!" Sandra moaned. He hardly felt her tight fists pawing at his hair. That was why he still had hair, for young women like Wilson to pull on, right?

When he'd teased her to the brink of yet another orgasm, he settled up along her lean body. She was twitching like a crackling transistor. She was ready to blow again.

He gently eased his cock between her legs, sliding forward so that just his cockhead penetrated her.

She whined, wanting more. "Don't tease..."

"This what you want? " he smiled, pushing himself forward. He slid inside her like a knife through butter.

He thrust once, then again. Her soft moans encouraged him to keep teasing, slowly sliding back and forth like he was sawing at a piece of wood. The tingling sensation ran from his cock to his brain and back again.

"Faster, Alex." She was humping up against him now. Not for long. He needed relief.

Increasing his pace as directed, he could feel her body shake with the downward thrust. He was close, his balls buzzing each time they hit her smooth sex. The faster he pumped, the louder she moaned.

He felt the familiar surge as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. "Uh, yeah!" he cried, as his balls emptied themselves into her tightness.

Sandra Wilson held him tight as his body jerked over and over again, like a mother comforting her child. When he was finally spent, she struggled her head to his ear and whispered, "Bed now, baby? We've got a long night ahead of us."