Tracking Evil, a Podcast Pt. 06

Across the room Arlene watched as Erica and Sondra became locked together at the lips.

Since meeting Erica, Arlene had come to think of her as the little sister she had never had. They had bonded through shared experiences, had spent hours and days in each other's company as they turned their minds to catching their foe.

They were a family, as much as any partner she had worked with in the sheriff's department. More than any partner because they had shared the loss of a friend together as well.

In spite of this bond, she couldn't help but find the tableau in front of her, 2 men, 2 women in a sweating, grunting, pulsating mass... highly erotic.

She was riding Lincoln now, facing him. As she watched JP drive his old body beyond its limits, his cock deep in the dark fleshy ass of Sondra, Arlene bore down on Lincoln. Her hands had his shoulders pinned flat to the ground, her hips were turning and twisting, grinding her pussy into his crotch, her ass cheeks beat a tattoo on his thighs as they slapped against them with her bucking, fucking motion.

"Fuck yes, that's it. Go get it slut, chase it down, fucking hell. Yes, yes, chase it, fuckin' earn it, get that cock, take it, take it and fuckin cum on it!" Lincoln intoned, unaware of the action behind him but loving the lustful visage of the beautiful redhead above him.

Arlene's firm 36D tits shook and wobbled like demented dancers, whirling to their own form of extasy on a dance floor. To Lincoln, they looked irresistible but even craning his head forward he couldn't reach them as Arlene continued to fuck herself frantically against him.

"Gonna cum, uh, gonna cum, uhhh!" she bleated, her grip loosening on his shoulders as a spasm of pleasure rippled through her body.

Lincoln took his chance, beating her hands aside so that she slumped onto his chest. His arms encircled her, holding her softness against him, big breasts squashed pleasurably to his own strong chest. His hips bucked, driving his achingly long cock deep, so deep inside her. As her pussy contracted it pulled on his cock, holding him within her slick passage and milking his sensitive shaft at the same time.

"Fuckin nuttin in you." he groaned.

Arlene felt him ejaculating. It coincided with the peak of her own climax and she turned her face to him, kissing Lincoln passionately as they jerked and shivered as if a voltage was being applied to their naked bodies.

"Enough of that." Trent said as he heaved Erica clear off the floor, breaking her contact with Sondra, "You need to be less about her, more 'bout me."

He spun Erica ninety degrees, setting her feet onto the floor of the tunnel. She turned inside his grasp so that she was facing him. Her left hand sought and found his hard cock, fingers encircling his shaft before they began stroking him firmly and rapidly.

Erica leant forward; her nose pressed against the skin of his muscled chest as she kissed his skin. Gradually she moved her mouth across the surface of his chest, breath hot on his flesh, working her way towards his left nipple. Then she began to tease it, lips drawing across the sensitive spot, tongue fluttering across it with carrying degrees of pressure and intensity. Her free hand clawed its way up his torso, nails pressing into him as her fingers walked their way up to his other nipple. Two fingers then pushed against, stroked and pinched this nipple so that Trent shuddered in pleasure.

He cupped a hand round the back of her head, holding her against him. Her silky hair brushed lightly over his skin as Erica's head twisted slightly left to right as her mouth suckled on his breast like an infant clamped to its mother.

JP was all but done. He was amazed his stamina had carried him as far as it had, keeping up with the two younger men and more importantly the three younger women. That said, he was close to finishing now.

Tilting his head he could see Sondra's wide-eyed expression, her mouth hanging open, a glob of saliva pooling thickly on her chin. She was close to being done as well, he'd pulled two good sized orgasms out of that black body and a goodly number of small ones in the time he'd been buried in her ass. One more would finish things with flair.

His arm curled between her thigh and stomach so that his hand could get at her sopping wet pussy. He dipped a finger inside, pulling it out slathered in her juices. The wet digit then began the task of stimulating her clit, with a lot of success given the sounds Sondra began to make.

Erica could hear Sondra squealing behind her, not a sound she'd expect the tough young woman to be even capable of making.

She redoubled her efforts with Trent. For the briefest moment she released his cock so that she could dampen her fingers in her own pussy before bringing them back to his cock, lubricated once more. The grip Trent had on her head tightened significantly and she knew he was getting close.

"Fuck...yeah girlie... ugggh... Goddamn!... uhrk uhgh!" Sondra and JP's intertwined exclamations signalled the two of them had gotten each other off. Erica knew it wasn't a race but she was aware also that only she and Trent remained engaged with each other.

His thick cock trembled in her grip and she was stepping back even as he released his hold on her head. Trent pushed her to her knees and she lifted her chin to watch as his cock spat its first load at her face. The glob of semen landed just below the bridge of her nose, oozing left and right. A second wad landed lower, clipping the tip of her nose and upper lip. The next globule, each one smaller in size than the one before, landed square on her lips as they began to part. His cock was still discharging cum as it pushed into her mouth.

Erica sucked on the thick black cock for a half minute, cradling his balls as she did, until she was sure he'd finished cumming. She beamed up at Trent, lips and teeth coated still in cum, only to see his hand descending. He took a hold of her hair, pulling her over the half foot the separated them from Sondra and JP.

JP was still coupled to Sondra, his hands loosely placed on her hips as they both luxuriated in the post coital tingles. The black woman turned heavy lidded eyes towards Erica as the petite white girl was dumped before her by Trent. Sondra pulled Erica closer, keeping herself held up one handed, and both women moaned in intoxicated bliss as Sondra began cleaning up Erica's face and mouth with long powerful licks and deep kisses.

Episode 3: " Now the sun

Has not stirred

Rusted gun

Fallen bird

Side by side in the world below

A-hunting we will go"

"Damn Kiki, that was some night."

Erica closed over the flap on her backpack, pulling it onto one shoulder as Sondra sauntered into the mouth of the mine shaft. The next day had dawned dry and bright, the storm from the night-time now a distant memory. After the sex, the group had fallen asleep where they lain, waking the next morning still nude and filthy from their activities. Depending on the person there had been varying degrees of embarrassment and blushes as they had gathered themselves together, dressing, eating quietly and preparing to head back to the hunt. Nobody had directly referenced the events, at least until now.

"Kiki?" Erica asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Erica don't seem right, not after sucking a mans cum from your lips it don't." Sondra answered cheerfully.

Erica blushed and Sondra laughed at the sight of the red bloom in her pale cheeks.

"You such a sweetie Kiki, I got to take you home after this is done. Get you to meet my Boo."

"Boo?" Erica groaned internally that she was just repeating single words like an idiot in this awkward conversation but Sondra didn't seem put off.

"My man. Damn Kiki but he would love meetin' you."

"Sure, um, yeah, yeah... that'd be nice." Erica gave a half smile which she hoped would be enough for Sondra to drop the subject. Then she moved past the black woman and out into the morning sunlight.

Arlene gathered everyone together, checked that noting had been left behind after their stay in the tunnel and the group moved off.

The forest seemed different after the storm. Quieter, as if the nature around them was holding its collective breath. Even though, over the next several hours, the party crossed a number of game trails, pointed out to Erica and the other inexperienced hunters by JP, there was a noticeable absence of wildlife.

Erica wondered if it was all in her head. Maybe it was the hangover from the moonshine or the subtle undercurrent of tension among the others from the escapades of last night. The sex should have released tensions, and for Sondra and JP it certainly had as they bickered good naturedly if quietly as they walked.

Erica and Arlene carried a knot of tension, most likely guilt at having slipped, allowing a moment of unprofessionalism to enter the hunt. Trent and Lincoln also seemed tense and awkward with each other; Erica supposed there was still an element of jealously between each man over Sondra's affection. She decided that discretion was the better part of valour in this scenario and so chose to not inform either of them of the existence of Sondra's 'Boo'.

Early in the afternoon of this, their third day searching, Erica saw Arlene hold up her hand at the front of their ragged column to signal they were stopping. JP loped back into view from where he had been sweeping along their flank. He conferred briefly with Arlene before leading the group off to one side. About four hundred yards from the path they were following they entered a tiny clearing that surrounded an old turn of the nineteenth century shack.

JP informed them that he'd already looked inside, the building being empty. Empty but showing signs that someone was using it to live in. The roof seemed to have been recently patched, pale timbers free from the aged look of their companions dotted the surface.

They entered the small three roomed building. The walls and rooms bare except for some camping supplies. The repaired roof appeared watertight, the storm had left the contents of the rooms untouched although Erica did note an old metal pail in the corner of one room, filled almost to the brim with rainwater.

"Well?" Arlene asked Erica.

"Well, what?" The young woman replied, not enjoying how everyone was looking at her.

"Come on. Nobody knows this guy as well as you. You've been onto him from the start, finding traces of him before ever you knew his name. You've tracked him across multiple states and into the middle of nowhere. So, if anyone can figure out if this is his lair, it's you."

Erica exulted inwardly at this compliment from the respected Deputy Sheriff. Especially amongst the company she found herself in. She might have a lot of faults, but gad dammit she was a bloody good investigative reporter. She kept those thoughts from her face however, nodded briskly to Arlene and let the backpack slip from her shoulders to the floor, giving herself some respite from its weight as she looked around.

The camping gear was common enough, nothing remarkable about it. Good quality but inexpensive, that tied in with her take on Butterman's mentality... nothing ostentatious or impractical in his world. She rummaged through the clothing in a dark green rucksack that was propped up in one corner. Judging by the clothes they'd be a fit for the killer but there was nothing definitive about that, plenty of tall men in this world.

Giving up on the belongings, Erica began to move through each room, examining walls, window sills, doors, floors and ceilings. The others moved back outside to give her some space but as she'd pass a window Erica could see one or the other of them glancing towards the shack. She began to feel silly on her second sweep of the wooden building, had she really expected to find 'BILLIII' or 'Butterman was here' carved into some piece of wood or something equally ridiculous.

Erica took some slow calming breaths and stood still, running things through in her head. Normally she'd consult her copious notes at times like this, looking for some piece of information to leap off the page at her. But she'd left all her notes looked up in the trunk of the car. That didn't matter, they were all in her head, she'd agonised over them long enough to almost commit them perfectly to memory. Nothing. No bolt from the blue of inspiration.

Frustrated she kicked out at a wall, grimacing as a plank splintered from the blow. She was letting them down, her friends, Arlene, her companions, all those victims, Amos, she was letting them all down.

Wait!

Amos.

When she'd staked out Butterman with Amos and Duncan there had been something about Butterman that she'd actually seen first-hand. Erica stuck her head out of the window, "JP, where's the trash from this place?"

It only took JP a minute to find the disturbed earth on the perimeter of the clearing where the occupant of the shack had been burying their refuse. Erica smiled as the earth was scraped away to reveal the contents.

"Got you, you bastard!" she gloated.

"Got what?" Trent leaned over the exhumed trash pile and stirred the contents with one boot. "Nothing here but empty cans."

The others looked as bemused as Trent although Lincoln had a half smile beginning to form on his face. Erica wasn't sure if he had grasped the significance of the find or if he was just infected by her own confidence.

"Yep, cans. Lots and lots of cans." she confirmed. "We got cans of peaches, cans of beef stew aaaannnd, that's it. Get it?"

"Nope." Trent replied testily and Erica decided she should explain before the already tense man grew any more peeved.

"Butterman is a serious creature of habit. Remember Arlene? That restaurant he always ate in when we tracked him down? He went there the same time every day, always ate the exact same meal. Now we got a pile of trash that says somebody is probably eating peaches for breakfast, beef stew for dinner... every single day. Tie that in with the clothing inside being a match for him size, yeah, we found him alright."

"Good enough for me" Arlene said, her demeanour changing just like that, suddenly her face filled with hope and steely resolve. "JP, Lincoln, thoughts?"

The two men spoke quietly together. These were the hunters, the finders of men, this was where they proved their worth.

"I see it, most foot traffic into this clearing been coming from the northwest which makes sense, nearest town being that direction. We figure best to leave a clear path in for when he returns, spread ourselves out in cover, separate just to cover lines of escape. We wait till he gets in. I'll leave myself closest to his path so as I can close the net when he returns." JP said.

"Yeah." Lincoln mused, "Sounds right to me. 'Cept, we need to hit him before he gets inside. Fuckin' bastard if we need to dig him out from cover, especially if he armed."

Arlene had been nodding in agreement as they spoke and now added her own tactical decision to the plan.

"Sondra, you and Trent are our shooters. Position yourselves to cover the shack, one front, one back. When he is midway between the edge of the clearing and the shack, take him out. Erica, you and I will take opposite sides of the shack as well, just in case this isn't Butterman it's on us to call out 'hold fire' before they reach the point where they're shot. Everyone good?"

Nobody asked if they should take him alive, they were too familiar with how dangerous this man was, mercy was an admirable trait but now it was a choice of safety first and for that end, Butterman had to die.

They took up positions in concealment. Erica scanned the treeline, seeing nothing and she knew there were people lying in wait. If her purposeful gaze could reveal no trace of her comrades then a casual glance by someone entering the clearing would certainly reveal no trace.

Time passed oh so slowly. Afternoon became evening at a snail's pace, the sun now well behind the treeline, long shadows stretching the width of the clearing. Moving slowly, Erica raised her arm to check the time. Sundown was less than an hour away, there was no way she or Arlene could positively identify Butterman in the dark.

JP must have been having similar thoughts because a minute later he emerged from cover, he raised a hand to his lips and gave off a low whistle to call the others in.

"We need to find a campsite while we still got some light, we can make a plan, come back here before dawn in case he returned at night, hit him while the fucker is still asleep. What you think girlie?" JP spoke as the others approached him, walking stiffly after lying up so long. His question was aimed at Sondra, the black woman sliding a large handgun back into a shoulder holster.

"I think that's Arlene's call to make." she replied, "And fuck off calling' me girlie, you hear me redneck?"

JP chuckled, saluting her with a tip of the brim of his cap.

Erica smiled at the give-and-take of their ribbing until a cold hand of dread gripped the bottom of her stomach and pulled on it.

"Where's Arlene?" Erica's question was shrill with fear as she bolted towards the spot the older woman had taken up position, the others a half step behind her.