“Let’s” — pop — “be clear” — smack — “about something,” Hal said, eyes closed. Pop-pop.
“We are not fucking,” Hal grunted, as he and Officer Sinclair fucked, doggy-style, filling room 319 of The Sleepy Inn with the sounds of squeaking mattress springs and urgent, illicit sex. It was 9 p.m. Hal had told his wife, Suzanne, he was speaking at the city council meeting that night. There was no city council meeting that night. She would know this if she actually read the newspaper her husband published.
But it didn’t matter. Suzanne came home from work to discipline Allen and throw out all of his porn after Hal told her about the rooftop masturbation crisis that provoked the catfight between Maria and Lilly. Both felt it would be better for Allen’s mother to handle this, as Hal had already reamed him out, and there’s nothing like the shame a boy feels when his mother catches on to his porn habit.
Suzanne was also utterly horrified by the spiraling events her hormonal son had set off, as well as the copious collection of nudie mags he had stolen over the past year. She dumped them in the big green recycling bin that would be collected on Wednesday morning, then went out to a late dinner with a couple of friends to decompress. So Suzanne really didn’t care where her husband was, nor did she have any reason to fact-check his whereabouts, which was out by the Interstate, and not at city hall.
Sweat pooled in the small of Officer Sinclair’s back. Hal leaned over her and slowed his pace. He didn’t want to cum too fast. Also, despite its lousy decor and generally sleazy aesthetic, The Sleepy Inn was $19.99, even for a Tuesday night, and they didn’t have an advertising account with the Springfield Sentinel, either.
Officer Sinclair was wearing her utility belt, patrol boots, mirrored shades, and cop hat, just like Hal liked it. She was brandishing her baton and rubbing the top of her pussy with it as Hal pumped her from behind.
“You’re the cops, I’m the newspaper,” Hal said breathlessly, leaning over Officer Sinclair’s back and breathing into her ear. And, in fact, his role-play costume literally included a fedora with a card that said PRESS stuck in the hat band, like Clark Kent at The Daily Planet. Officer Sinclair loved it when he put that on, almost as much as she loved the fact Hal was a fifty-year-old man who actually wore garters with his dark socks.
Hal resumed his thrusts. “That makes all this” — pump — “a big” — pop — “conflict” — pop-pop — “of interest,” Hal panted.
Well, no shit, Officer Sinclair thought. You’re also married, that’s the bigger conflict of interest, honey. But whatever, she loved his hairy chest, his treasure trail leading down to a huge — and very experienced — cock, and the way in which Hal deployed it on her.
“So we cannot have any sexual connections whatsoever,” Hal said, as he continued connecting sexually with Officer Sinclair’s pelvis. Hal really meant she had to stay away from his seventeen-year-old son, Allen.
Not that he was jealous; hell, he was kind of disappointed the boy hadn’t yet lost his virginity. But if the cop he was boning was giving his kid a blowjob, for sure kids at his high school were going to find out. Thank God it was the summer; also, grounding Allen meant he wouldn’t be able to tell his friends up at the country club pool.
Hal was finally going to cum. He pulled out, rolled off his condom desperately, and lashed Officer Sinclair up to her shoulder blades with four ropes of hot cum while she flexed her ass cheeks like a stripper. He turned over, dead weight, as if to fall asleep on his side of the bed, but misjudged the area and fell off the mattress onto the tacky, threadbare carpet, which had a seizure-inducing pattern and reeked of cigarette smoke.
“Shit!” Hal said, heaving deep breaths. He got to his feet with his hand over the top of his PRESS hat and curled up into bed next to Officer Sinclair. The motel room’s cheap, single-unit air conditioner rattled and actually blew visible condensation into the room.
“I just don’t want the boy to get hurt, or you,” Hal sighed, and he did sincerely mean that. He kissed along Officer Sinclair’s neck and she held his hand up between her wonderful big boobs.
“I’m sorry, love,” Officer Sinclair said sweetly. “I’ll leave him alone and be more careful.”
It had been one hell of a day for everyone involved. The next morning, Hal and Suzanne got up at their usual crack-of-dawn time, and the loveless couple had a quick and silent breakfast before leaving for work as Allen snoozed.Suzanne worked in a travel agency two towns over and had a rather lengthy commute. Hal was somewhat of a workaholic and started early, both to terrorize the reporters into whipping up some news first thing, but also to fuck around with his buddies at the coffee shop before everyone got busy with their day. After his parents left, Allen naturally did not put the ladder on the roof to go up and beat off. In addition to being grounded, he felt like everyone was watching him. He couldn’t even jerk off in his bedroom and especially did not feel like it since his mom threw out all his girlie mags.