The Perils of Sweet Sue and Smokey

With apologies to "The Perils of Pauline."

*

Sweet Sue was a darling and very sweet girl. Not only was she sweet, she was stacked! And I mean stacked. As a poet once said of his girl "she was built like burlap bag full of bobcats, she had it to-gether!" That was Sweet Sue, she had it together. But let's take her from top to bottom, shall we? Now, that's not to say that her bottom was any less desirable than the rest of her, but we need to start somewhere.

Okay, Sweet Sue stands exactly 5 foot 2 and weighs a curvy 135 pounds. The weight may throw you off so wait, it'll soon become self-explanatory. Okay let's see we've got 5-2, 135 . . . oh, yeah, she has a full head of long strawberry blonde hair that kind of flips at the end. It's long enough to caress her beautifully rounded toosh, but wait we'll go over that in just a sec. Like I said, her hair has that slightly reddish tinge of blonde and her wide eyes are so sparkling blue that you'd swear she stole the color from the sunny waters of the Gulf of Mexico. She had the cutest little button nose you'd ever want to see and the sweetest bow for a mouth, which was naturally the same color that she painted her long pretty fingernails and her cute dainty toes, a brilliant red. That was her favorite color, so although she sometimes got bored and painted them some other color, she'd always come back to this one.

Her face had the chiseled features of her part-Swedish ancestry with the American looks of her half-breed Huron Indian father. Her complexion managed to attain a honey-gold color that made you want to run your tongue over it just to taste it's sweetness. But the best part of her was her breasts -- they were huge! They were so big that they were almost caricatures of large mammaries -- and she was proud of them, they got her everything she wanted. One sight of her 52-EEEE . . . EEE . . . EE . . . E, whatever — was usually enough to open any door for her. She could have robbed a bank and nobody -- make that, no man -- would ever remember what she looked like. But she was an honest girl, making money in the muck-raking business of Private Investigations. But I digress.

Sweet Sue's waist was fairly slender, she'd never had a pregnancy, her hips just naturally flared out to counterbalance her treasure chest. She was tres hourglass, her waist of 30 inches blossomed out to hips of 44 inches. Her thighs were exquisitely rounded and firm, feeding down into nicely shaped calves, slender ankles and a pair of tinily small, very adorable feet. Wow! Well, that's Sweet Sue.

As I accidentally mentioned, Sweet Sue was a Private Investigator. She liked what she did. Her company was aptly named "Film At Eleven" because her favorite pastime was taking pictures and she could sneak a camera into almost anywhere. Hell, she didn't even have to sneak it, she could carry it and men's eyes would be so full of her tits that she could literally carry in a full-size television camera and nobody would notice. Right now she lay in bed with her favorite companion, having just completed a good-paying job.

"Oh, Smokey," she crooned, "you are so wonderfully large and handsome," she crooned, "just look at you lying there, all thick and long, so nicely rounded and heavy," her sighs quickly turned into pants of lust as she caressed her companion's steely length and girth, "you're always ready, aren't you, Baby, always willing to satisfy me so completely, aren't you."

She picked up the K-frame Smith & Wesson .44. He had such a cute little nose, but when she screwed on his silencer (I don't know, do they make silencers for .44's? They'd have to be pretty big, I guess, hence the story line), anyway when she screwed on his silencer he grew into an impressive little beast. He became a big and long and round and heavy brute that fully loaded, and with his hard on, weighed almost six pounds. He was knurled down his full length hard-on and Sweet Sue had mischievously added decorative, but wickedly delightful, rubber bumps on him. She really loved her smoking gun.

"Oh, yes, you're my wovey-dovey," she baby-talked him, "my sweetest most wonderful wovey-dovey," she screwed on the heavy silencer, sighing with the thrill of it as she rubbed his cool frame up and down her hot body. She slipped his heavy black hard-on up between her full, ripe breasts, jiggling them enticingly as she dripped a little gun oil on them to ease his upward slide.

"Oh-h-h-h," she whimpered, "it's so-o-o-o good, Bay-bee-ee."

She squeezed her huge tits together as he fucked his hard length through them. His long, heavy -- thick -- gun-oil dripping thickness pushed out of the tops and she bent and tongue kissed his round, smokey hole tasting the wonderful flavor of the oil and gunpowder mixed, her nostrils flaring with his wonderful petroleum smell. He was cumming already, she could feel it and she wanted him to oil up her insides.

"Oh, baby," she moaned, "I really need your steely body in me . . . oh, god, do I ever."

The heavy steel of him slid down her body. His grip turned up as he slid backward over her gently rounded tummy. She felt his rear sight part her fat pussy lips, unyieldingly mauling her soft aching clittie.

"Oh-Baby!" she cried out in a mix of pain and delight, "not so rough! Oh-h-h, gawd, you're so mean and rough," she panted as the narrow barrel ballooned out into the hard, roughly knurled silencer.

"Oh-Baby!" she moaningly cried out, "Oh-Baby! Oh-h-h-Bay-bee-ee!" she lifted her knees bringing her tender little heels up against the firm roundness of her ass cheeks. Smokey, the .44 Smitty, tipped slightly, the business end dragging over her clittie, just before sliding into her softly yielding femininity.

"Oh-oh-oh-ah-h-h," she yelped, "not so rough, Baby! Oh, god, you know I really like it rough, don't you," and she giggled and pushed her hips into him, moving up and down, burying the round length of hard steel as far as it would go into her.

"Oh-whoa-agh-GH-GH!!" she cried out as the twelve inches of steel and fiberglass suddenly slammed all the way up, banging his trigger guard hard against her clitoris. She cried out again, a little squeal of pain and pleasure, his explosive black cum-hole pressing tightly against her softly yielding cervix as she came. Her finger caressed the trigger of his cum-loads, wanting Smokey to cum, but knowing that when he did -- not if, because she knew that one day he would cum -- that he would send her into cum oblivion and it would be the last time they would play together. Still — Sweet Sue let him shaft her a few more times, cumming a little more gently each time as he finished.

She loved the feel of him, the steely hardness of him, his complete maleness. No man could ever make her feel like this, so flatly helpless, knowing that he had the power to take her completely and unconditionally -- the power to finish her off. She left him in her slick, wet softness as she rolled with him, onto her side, carefully keeping his heavy body tucked inside her. They napped tiredly for a while.

She woke up feeling the goodness of Smokey rocking into her and she came several more times before putting a stop to his antics. She had to get dressed and meet a client. Sweet Sue could sense Smokey's disappointment, he was still hard after all, but business was business. She took him apart and tucked his hardness into his soft leather case. She'd had it especially made for him as his cock cozy. It was pretty heavily cum-stained because she sometimes had to have him and didn't bother to pull his cover off. She then slipped on a jock support and Smokey went into it. It was his favorite spot, up high between her legs where he split her lips and she could feel his steely hardness, bare steel rubbing her delightfully. They both liked him there, keeping her totally aroused. She picked out a knee length full skirt and held it out for Smokey to see.

"What d'you think, honey, this oughta cover you pretty good down there, hm-mm?"

He hung pretty good in his support strap, but she put on the elastic panties over it to hold him pressed on her clittie where his trigger guard could do the most good, the grip upward and pressing on her mons.

"Um-m-m, you feel so good," she whispered, caressing the upside down steel from the front sights to the handle, "real nice," she whispered, "I can't wait until we get back home tonight," then she giggled, "might not wait," she jiggled him against her vulva, "we might just find a bathroom somewhere and be naughty there."

She giggled again and inspected herself in the mirror trying to decide if she should wear a bra today. She had a humongous rack, but they didn't sag of hang down to look at her toes as if in shame, hell, they didn't even hang to her lower ribs and were nowhere near her belly-button. Nah, no bra, just let them roam free. She grabbed a top with only two buttons that fit pretty loose and really let her boobs bounce, tied the tails and left her cutely pierced belly button bare. She wore a little silver bell in the piercing and it tinkled when she panted in lust -- it tinkled when she panted, period, but it sounds sexier when we say it tinkled with her lust.

She picked up her leather folder with the blank contracts, checked that her .357 was safely stashed in her shoulder bag and with a final caress to Smokey's rear sights and a little scootch to rub him on her clitoris, she headed out the door. Smokey bounced in his cradle, jolting unyieldingly against her pussy and sending thrilled goose bumps up her spine.

**** *** ** * * * ** *** ****

Johnny "Big John" Littlejohnson stared at Sweet Sue, his mouth watering as she spoke. He could almost see his long two and a half or three inches of hard dick sliding between her overgrown breasts.

"So, Mr. Littlejohnson," Sweet Sue used her cutest little girl voice on him, lulling him, knowing that with his little dick he probably preferred tiny girls.

Her voice sent his thoughts into lustful fantasies, all involving Sweet Sue and her beautiful "ass-ets," any way, to continue . . .

"I charge 250 dollars an hour, and if you want me to suck your cock, it'll be an extra 500 per day," she stood and swirled her skirt so that there was nothing between her ass and the leather of the arm chair, other than her rubber panties and Smokey, as she sat.

"Wha-at," Littlejohnson jerked back to reality.

"I said that I charge 250 per hour and if you want me to stand a stake-out, it'll be an extra 500 per day," she repeated.

"Oh, oh, oh-kay," he smiled, money the farthest thing from his mind. He could swear she wanted his body, she was peering at him wide-eyed and her mouth attractively moist.

"And you want me to get film of your wife with her boyfriends, right?"

She put on a pair of reading glasses, looking so adorably grown-up that he smiled as she scribbled on her pad, then pulled out a contract and wrote on it, filling in several blanks.

"Name," she mumbled scribbling, "John Littlejohnson," she bit her tongue cutely as she wrote, squirming a little on Smokey.

"That's Big John," he interrupted, "just call me Big John," and he smiled ingratiatingly.

"Of course, Mr -- uh, Big John," she gave him her sexiest smile and he almost creamed in his pants as she licked her lips afterward.

She licked her lips because Smokey was teasing her clitoris with his trigger guard.

"And two-fifty," she went back to mumbling, "five-hundred, date is . . ." she checked the pocket watch pendant which liked to hide in her plenteous cleavage, "okay . . ." then she looked over the contract, making sure that all her blanks were filled in.

"Okay, Mr. Littlejohnson — "

"Big John," he interrupted her.

"Of course . . . Big John," she grinned hornily, Smokey kept rubbing her gently and persistently, but that wasn't it, she always got horny when she filled out a nice fat contract, "yes, well," her eyes went wide as Smokey pressed her clitoris with his trigger guard again and she shivered with a little cummer, leaking her creamy stuff onto the seat. She'd have to find somewhere private soon and let him have his way with her before he embarrassed her in front of the client.

"Big John," she spoke breathlessly, "I just need your signature here," she laid the contract in front of him, "it's just a standard contract detailing what we discussed and the prices we agreed on," Sweet Sue dimpled, her lips moist as she smiled.

He could swear that she was horny and wanted him and he knew that he was just the man to take care of her horny need. He smiled lasciviously at her as he reached for the contract. He took a quick glance at the numbers and frowned as he read them.

"Did we agree on . . ." he looked up and was instantly struck by her out-thrust breasts as she shifted in her seat to let Smokey caress her pussy.

"Hm-m?" Sweet Sue looked at him questioningly her eyes wide and her pupils fully dilated as Smokey kept up his steady pressure on her suddenly gushing cunt.

Big John forgot the contract in his hand as he watched her squirm and shudder gently, realizing that she had just cum all over his leather armchair and wondered what it would taste like when he got a chance to lick it.

"R-r-right, th-th-th-there, Mr., uhm, uhm, Mr., uhm, ah-h-h," she eased back, "er-r, Big John," she pointed a trembling finger at the bottom of the page.

He wanted to ask her if she had just cum, but dared not. He was going to take it slow and seduce her. Yeah, that was it, he was going to seduce her. He could already tell that she had the hots for him.

"Here?" he pointed, smiling and doing a Groucho Marx with his eyebrows.

"Ye-ye-yeah," she stammered out again, "right there."

Without further argument, Big John scribbled his signature across the bottom of the page. She quickly snatched it up, Smokey had only been teasing her and she wanted his entire hard length in her, so she hurriedly glanced down, no sense rushing a signature, better to do it right the first time than to have to come back, it was a much harder sell then. It looked good so she smiled sexily at him, an overflow smile from Smokey's teasing, ripped his copy off the back and shoved the contract in her folder.

"Gotta go," she crooned in her low sexy voice.

"Oh-oh-oh-kay," he was almost creaming on himself as he spotted the wet spot she'd left on his arm chair, "yes-s-s," he thought to himself.

"Muh-muh-muh-maybe we can have a d-d-d-drink together after the job's over," he smiled ingratiatingly.

"I don't see why not," she gave him the full wide-eyed dimpled smile, making his humongous 3 inches stand up, as he wondered why she didn't notice how hard he was for her.

Big John grinned back, his eyes on the arm chair's seat and, as she rushed out, he jumped over his desk and dropped to his knees, pressing his face into the wetness she'd left behind. He moaned as he rubbed his face on it then pressed his lips to it, running his tongue to get the last flavor of it. His hard little penis jerked and he shot a quick, tiny little squirt into his loose briefs. He wanted her bad and he knew that she wanted him just as bad. He just had to make it happen. He had so much money that he could have sex with the governor herself if he wanted to, so he should be able to afford that bit-titted bitch. He ran his tongue over Sweet Sue's leavings, noticing an extra slickness and a tang to it that tasted faintly of gun oil. It didn't taste half-bad. With the side of his face pressed to the seat, he buzzed for his personal "secretary."

A few minutes later a tiny very young-looking, but definitely old enough, black "girl" came wiggling in. Compared to Sweet Sue, she was flat as a board, even with the pair of 36-C's she sported. She smiled as she saw him on his knees in front of his special chair. She closed and locked the door behind her, walked across to the secretary's entrance and closed and locked that door too, then she stripped to her stockings and shelf bustier. Showing off her new crotchless thong with her seven inches of stiff cock hanging out of the split.

Big John looked up at her and smiled expectantly as she unlimbered a long paddle with a short handle. He came up on his feet, his arms still hugging the seat bottom, his face pressed to the wet leather. The girl, Brandywine Jones, quickly and expertly yanked his trousers and underwear down around his ankles.

"Oh, yes-s-s-s, baby," he moaned, "yes-s-s-s," she ran her fingers down his ass feeling the welts she'd left there earlier and poking a couple of well-oiled fingers in his throbbing ass-hole. God, this was one horny, little-dicked white boy and she grinned. He paid her good to take care of him, though, so she didn't mind, 'sides, it got her so hot, her guy got the benefit of all the overflow sex.

Brandywine flaunted her fat cock, -- she was really a cross-dressing faggot with breast enhancements -- and stroked it a few times to bring it even stiffer than it was. White boy was going to get his ass stuffed after he got it paddled she thought, that oughta be good for hundred dollar bonus. She leaned into Big John's ass and rubbed her cock along his anus.

"Gonna fuck yer ass after I warm it up real good," she promised Big John in her strong bass voice, "um-mm, hm-mm, fuh dam' sho' I is."

"Oh, baby," Big John moaned, "oh, baby," all the talk was turning him on even more.

Brandywine ran a practiced hand over Big John's round cheeks once more, then leaned back and took a batter's stance. Then drawing the paddle back, took a couple of practice swings, making Big John groan in anticipation. She took a hard swing, leaning into it as if batting a home run. The whistling of the paddle ended in a solid "thwack" as it landed on Big John's ass. His screeching yelp almost drowned it out.

"OH, BABY," he cried out, "OH, BABY, DO IT AGAIN," and he whimpered as the stinging sank home, "oh, oh, oh, baby, it hurts so goo-oo-ood."

Then again Brandywine let him have his wish. Big John cried out again and again each time, growing hoarse and delirious from the thrilling pain.

The sweat was pouring from Brandywine as she took a break. She poured them each a sherry and sipped hers as she walked back to Big John, her big cock bobbing and waving to the swinging of her hips. She was getting horny as hell, but she knew that if she wanted a good tip, she'd have to hold off. She needed to warm his ass up good before she punked him and jacked him off.

He was still on his feet, his shoulders and face resting on the seat cushion, so she rolled him over so his shoulders and upper back were on the seat. Because of his painful ass, instead of sitting on the floor, Big John half-squatted on his heels. Kind of like a backward crab. Big John reached for the glass but she pulled it back as she got an idea.

"Open yo' mouth, turd-breath," she ordered.

Big John opened his mouth and smiled, it was a new game. Brandywine grinned and dropped her thick cock into Big John's mouth. Big John automatically pursed his lips around it, it wasn't new, he thought, they'd played "suck me, suck you" before, but this time, was different.

"Open yo' mouf an' hol' my cock innit," Brandywine ordered.

"Hmm-mm," maybe it was a new game Big John did as ordered.

Brandywine then drizzled the sherry onto her cock, letting it run into Big John's mouth. Big John slurped and suckled on it. Um-um. Tasted better than her cum. It didn't take long, they both finished their sherrys quickly and Brandywine replaced the glasses on the bar.

"Suck it little while, slut," she smiled.

Big John gave it a couple of half-hearted pulls and she snorted in disgust. She help him up and turned him around and made him bend over the chair again. She may have been a tiny thing, but she was a well-hung little thing. As mentioned already, her cock was a full seven inches and nicely thick around.