Message-ID: <29013asstr$982901406@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: kellis X-Original-Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII Subject: {ASSM} The Innocent Fugitives Ch17 {Varkel} (MF bg oral) Date: Thu, 22 Feb 2001 23:10:06 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, RuiJorge The Innocent Fugitives a Novel by Varkel Copyright (C) 2001, Varkel Chapter 17: New Friendships When he finally raised his mouth away from hers, Ruth pulled him into her apartment and closed the door behind him. "Oh, god, John," she whimpered. "It's been a week!" "I know it, darling. I just couldn't get away." "I'm starved of you!" she declared, face twisting in hunger. She grabbed his hand in both of hers. "Come on to the bedroom." But he hung back. "I've only got a minute, Ruthie." "Only a minute?" she repeated without understanding. "I've got to submit my report on the Locked-Room case and run down a tip left on my voice-mail. But your place was on the way in. I had to stop by and kiss you." His hand came up and compressed her breast. He smiled wanly. "And cop a feel." "Oh, god, a feel!" She dropped to her knees, ripping down his zipper. Just before her mouth enclosed him, she demanded, "Tell me what happened in Chicago." His hand caressed her hair. "This won't do _you_ any good." She released him long enough to say, "More than you think. Was it their car?" "Yes," he answered as she re-enclosed him. "It still had the license tag and motor number registered to that kid in Pellisville who admitted he sold it to them. They must have abandoned it on the street, probably not too long after they fled from Kentucky. It had been partly stripped. Their fingerprints were all over it." He was silent for a while, feeling the bobbing head ripple his flesh. "Now I guess it's up to the Chicago cops, unless we're lucky enough to get another tip. They made it only too clear that I was on _their_ turf! The trouble, of course, is that it's an Ohio case worth little to the Chicago captains. If I could put out ten men knocking on doors within a few blocks of where that car was found, showing those photographs, we'd have them in no time." He sighed. "They promised to do that for us during slack periods. Huh! If it was Cleveland it might mean something. You ever hear of the Chicago police having any slack?" She didn't answer. Her mouth made slurping sounds. "That feels good!" he admitted with more enthusiasm. "Sometimes I wish I could just stay here with you, my tongue in your cunt and my dick in your mouth. What a life that would be, eh?" She moaned and redoubled her efforts. His fingers fondled her cheeks, then closed on her temples, increasing the length of her strokes. His whole body stiffened. "Honey, I'm about to come, and I haven't even jerked off in a week. Are you sure ... Oh, god!" She shuddered but enclosed him loosely until he relaxed, then returned his moist organ within his britches and zipped up. When she stood, her face was dry but her eyes sparkled. He shook his head. "You're incredible, Ruthie. I hate to leave you, but ..." "You'll come back tonight, won't you?" "I don't know. I may have to meet someone about that tip." "Can't you let Martin run it down?" "No, this one is a personal contact from before my promotion." She heaved a sigh. "Well, at least I get to keep your I.D." His eyebrows rose politely. "My I.D.?" She chuckled wryly. "As they told us in Forensics, the sperm is the man." * * * "There's no one home at my house after school," Bobbie announced to the pretty boy slyly. "Me too," Alan responded. "My parents don't get home until a couple of hours after me." Bobbie had been talking with the boy for over ten minutes, finally getting to know him and deliberately directing the conversation to this point. "We live close by. Why don't we do our homework together today after school?" She smiled in seeming innocence. "We could help each other." The lad shook his head regretfully. "I'm not allowed to have anyone over when I'm home alone." "That's no problem, Alan." She grinned. "My parents don't mind if I bring home a classmate." The boy brightened. "Oh? Then we can go to your place!" "Sure. It's so boring to be stuck alone indoors because of this cold weather." "That's true." "So, will we do it today?" she asked the boy eagerly, not explaining what she meant by _it_. "Okay," he agreed at first, then shook his head. "Darn! I just remembered. I'm supposed to go to my cousin's today." "How old is she?" demanded Bobbie with instant hostility. "It's a he, a year older than me. He wants to show me his favorite toy again. He's so proud of it." His expression suggested that he was prepared to discuss the cousin's toy at length, but Bobbie felt only contempt for boys' toys. She asked impatiently, "Well, when _can_ you come home with me?" "I'll tell him I can't come back tomorrow." He smiled at her. "I'll meet you after school tomorrow and we can walk together." The bell rang announcing the end of recess. As they went back inside Bobbie wondered if the pretty boy could be so absolutely clueless. She hoped so. She looked forward to great fun when she got him alone. * * * Alan was not thinking about sex when he followed Bobbie into the apartment on the following afternoon. To the best of his knowledge, girls were hardly even curious about it. As for himself, he had begun jacking off just five weeks previously, and he was more sexually attracted to his cousin Carl than he was to any girl. He had agreed to study with Bobbie because of Louise's insistence that Bobbie thought he was handsome and liked him a lot. Believing this gave him a curiously warm feeling. He accompanied her, planning vaguely to verify it somehow. "It's toasty warm in here," he said as Bobbie closed the door behind them. "You can toss your parka on the leather chair," Bobbie said, and she did just that with her own as she headed for the kitchen. "Do you want a Coke?" "Yeah," he replied, looking about, concluding that Bobbie's apartment was larger and nicer than his. He sat on the sofa and waited for the Cokes. He felt drowsy in the warm room and leaned his head back with his eyes closed. "That darn Jenny drank the last one." Bobbie stopped just before him and grinned at his somnolence. "Are you sleepy? I often take a nap after school. Why don't we do that -- take a short nap? Then we can do our homework." She reached down, took hold of the boy's hand and tugged. He got to his feet, a bit confused. "I could nap here on the couch," he suggested. "Oh, it's so much nicer to nap with another person," Bobbie insisted. "We'll just have our shoes off, you know." She led him by the hand to her bedroom where she tossed some stuffed animals from the bed onto the floor. She pulled two pillows from beneath the quilt and then sat on the edge of the bed. Alan joined her, and they both took off their shoes. She reclined on the bed, nestling her head in a pillow. The boy hesitated for a moment but then stretched out next to her. They lay quietly side by side for a few moments. The clueless Alan, lying on his back, shut his eyes, eager for a nap. Bobbie turned on her side facing him and slightly curled her body so that one knee touched the boy's left leg, which was covered by thick ski pants. She became annoyed when she heard him begin to snore lightly. She wriggled to him until their bodies touched more fully and their heads were close together. Alan did not awake even when Bobbie draped an arm across his chest and snuggled to him. She leaned up slightly to look at his pretty face. When she touched his lips with hers, his eyes blinked open at last. They stared at each other with lips pressed lightly together. Bobbie giggled, then kissed him thoroughly, tongue and all. "I don't feel like napping anymore," she said, her body half upon his. "Do you want to play house?" The boy was speechless, but he began to understand the awesome possibilities of the situation. But with a girl! A few weeks ago the thirteen year old Carl had climbed into his bed at night and introduced him to homosexual play. Alan did not know how to begin with a girl. "It's warm in here," Bobbie murmured into his ear. "We should take off some of these heavy clothes." He did not resist her fingers when they began to undo the buttons on his shirt, and with a small, shy smile he helped her take it off, followed by his undershirt. "You have such a marvelous chest," she cooed, leaning her head down to take a swollen nipple into her mouth. "You almost have titties," she giggled and sucked on the other one. She then kissed him passionately while her free hand roamed down his body to slip a bit into his trousers. "Do you want to see me naked?" she asked coyly. Now incapable of speech, the terrified boy could only nod. Bobbie knelt on the bed and slowly stripped naked, all the while watching Alan's face register increasing fascination and excitement. "Have you ever before seen a naked girl?" she asked him, as she knelt on the bed fully exposed. "N-no." the boy stammered, his eyes riveted on Bobbie's hairless labia. A hole was hidden inside those curious lips. He knew that but little else. "You have to get naked too," she insisted and unzipped his ski pants. "It's only fair." "Do I have too?" the boy almost whined. "I won't let you touch me otherwise," she declared firmly. Alan wanted very much to touch her, to explore her body. He lifted his butt and allowed the girl to pull his pants off. "You have such pretty legs, Alan," Bobbie murmured, almost to herself, running a hand up and down a smooth thigh. He was very conscious of the erection that tented his underpants and tried to cover it with his hands. "I want to see it," Bobbie insisted and pushed his hands aside. Again the boy raised his butt, allowing the intriguing girl to strip him naked except for his socks. "That's very nice," she said, not disappointed by the modest but not inappropriate size of his cock, because she realized how young he was. The circumcised, creamy shaft seemed to be virginal, although it had once visited the dirty hole of an older boy. It was three quarters grown, but still a bit slender with a pinkish top that was shaped somewhat like a helmet. There was nothing dramatic about it, Bobbie thought, not like the adult cocks she had known. It was a sweet looking thing with just a few hairs above it. She grasped it, pumped it, and after a few seconds Alan's face contorted and his cock spurted slimy white stuff, the first stream landing on her thighs. "Oops," she exclaimed and then giggled. But she knew enough to finish the boy. "You can examine me now," she announced and laid herself upon the bed face up. "You're all messy," he protested with a wrinkled nose. Indeed the boy's semen slimed her thighs and belly. "Then let's take a shower together," she responded gaily and jumped from the bed. They soon crowded into a steamy shower stall where the warm spray washed away what Alan found offensive, leaving the girl's body wet and sleek. He hesitantly placed his fingers on her incipient titties, which were a bit more pronounced than two months previously. "They're tender," she warned him, though liking the apprehensive, virginal touch. She marveled at the awe in his face. "You have a hole," he stated seriously with his face an inch from hers. "Go find it," she smirked, delighted at his naivete. Alan could not appreciate the loveliness of Bobbie's young body, the alluring softness of her slender thighs, the curve of her calves, the belly that protruded just a tad, her graceful, narrow shoulders and shapely arms. He was too young. He was in search of basic anatomy. He went to his knees in front of her and parted her labia in quest of that mysterious hole. Amid a confusion of fleshy folds he found it and inserted a finger, then two. "That's where you put it, Alan," Bobbie said softly and turned off the shower. Bobbie was no older than he, but she recognized the exquisiteness of his flesh as she toweled him with loving pats and frequent kisses at various soft places. She sucked his beautiful cock to erection, absolutely astounding the boy who from Carl's example thought that girls didn't do such things. "Let's go back to bed," she said in a husky voice, rising to her feet and pulling the lad from the bathroom by the hand. "What ... what are you going to do?" he asked tremulously. She giggled. "It's what _you're_ going to do!" Still moist from the shower they climbed upon the bed. With knees raised high, Bobbie pulled him between them and guided his hard cock to her opening. "Kiss me and push it in," she directed with a sigh. He did just that. He learned quickly, slipping out only once. This was so much more magnificent than fucking Carl, he thought. The girl was extremely responsive, moaning and scratching his back. He felt like a man, in full charge of her pleasure, which seemed to grow with each thrust of his cock. "Oh, Alan!" she gasped, nearing a point of no return, savoring the feel of her young lover atop her. "Oh, Alan!" she cried feeling a monstrous pleasure approach rapidly. Only by accident their orgasms struck at the same time, causing the small room to reverberate with ecstatic sounds. Sated, Alan looked down at the pretty girl whose face was again calm, eyes closed. He rolled off beside her. She eagerly welcomed his embrace and they quickly fell asleep. After some time Bobbie awoke with an arm across the boy's body, her faced pressed to his shoulder. She felt the urge to fuck again but changed her mind when she glanced up at the clock on the dresser. "Alan," she said aloud pushing at him. "Alan, wake up. It's late. You have to go." He came awake in confusion. "Get dressed. Hurry! It's already five thirty," Bobbie exclaimed and jumped from the bed. Alan also quickly rose and rushed to put on his clothes, which he managed to do in a couple of minutes. The naked girl accompanied him into the living room, where he retrieved his parka from the leather chair and put it on. A rattle at the front door petrified the boy, but Bobbie just mouthed an unvoiced "shit!" Jenny and Paul stood in the doorway. They stopped to stare at a pretty thing, possibly a boy, bundled for skiing, while Bobbie hovered nearby, clothed only in an expression of chagrin. Paul scowled, shook his head and walked past the children into the kitchen. Jenny looked at them with a faint smile on her pretty face. "Who's your friend, Bobbie," she asked casually, cocking an eyebrow at the pretty thing, who blushed deeply and moved anxiously from foot to foot. "That's Alan," "Alan! So you're a boy. I couldn't tell, the way you're bundled." Jenny smiled sweetly and palmed the lad's rosy cheek. "It's time for you to go home now, Alan." The boy needed no further permission. He ducked around Jenny and raced from the apartment to clatter down the stairs. Jenny closed the door and turned to Bobbie. "Was he good?" she asked the girl in an off-hand manner. "Yeah, for a virgin. He's really quite beautiful and I was in the mood." "So he got you off, did he?" "Yeah." "I don't suppose you used a rubber." Bobbie looked aside toward the window. "Bobbie," Jenny exclaimed with a shake of her head, "I wouldn't be surprised if you were already pregnant, the way you carry on." "Well, you work at a hospital," the girl retorted flippantly. "You can fix it if I am." * * * "Come in." Hawker looked up as Bobbie came through his office door. He smiled at her fresh prettiness. Her blonde hair resembled a halo above the dark school uniform. "The librarian said you wanted to see me." "Yes. Come in and have a seat." Her eyes glinted defiantly. "You're not the headmaster. You're not even one of my teachers. You don't have any right to make me miss library." "What's the matter? Did you plan to suck Peter and Arnie again?" The shot told. She straightened up, face blank. "Come on in and sit," he repeated, indicating the straight chair beside his desk. "And close the door." She didn't budge. "What do you want?" "To return your property." He took up a small notepad from his desk and opened it to display her name. "This is yours, I believe." "I left it in the basement?" she asked. "Please close the door, Miss Smith." She took a breath and obeyed, pushing the door closed quietly, then taking the indicated seat. He laid the notepad in front of her. "You have an interesting way of describing your boy friends. I wonder what you'll say about me." "You've read it, then." Her voice was cool. She regarded him levelly. "Yes. It's cryptic in places, which I gather you intended, but I think I figured out most of it. This Alan you mention several times: is that Alan Shindle?" "What if it is?" "I agree with your assessment. He is indeed the prettiest lad in the school. How is your program for him coming along?" "Why should I tell you anything?" "Bobbie!" He affected a pained expression. "I thought we were getting along. You sure fooled me." "Fooled you at what, Jolly Pink Giant?" "Huh!" He leaned back. "That's exactly right. You do remember calling me that when you played midget for me in the basement." She sniffed. "I did like you in the basement. But now I've come down." "Even though you've gone up," he noted ironically. "Is that how it works: a lot of dicks, one after the other, gets you high?" "All the way to heaven," she admitted serenely. "That wasn't your first gang-bang, was it?" She hesitated. "'Gang-bang?'" His eyebrows rose. "You don't know the word?" "I never heard it before, but I can guess what it means. I still don't see why I should tell you anything." She shoved the notepad into the side pocket of her skirt. He said earnestly, "Because we can be a lot of help to each other, Bobbie." "What kind of help?" "Several kinds, actually. For example, I don't deal much with women for my own pleasure. They are so slow to warm, so contrary, so indifferent to their own advantage, so ambiguous in their signals --" "I'll soon be a woman," she interrupted coldly. "Ah, but you're not like them. You're as direct as a splash of cold water. You know what you want, all the time, don't you?" "Dick," she declared. He chuckled. "Exactly. Bobbie, you have no idea what a jewel you are." She sneered, "Your dick isn't nearly enough." He nodded. "I know. But I can help you get enough." She studied him. "Those boys in the basement: they do what you say, don't they?" "More or less," he admitted. She smiled. "Then let me know when they'll be there." "I can do that. But the school basement is dangerous, Bobbie, especially for you." He meant especially for himself but judged it unwise to tell her so. "I have a better place, a second apartment not two blocks from here. I keep it to play in. It backs on an alley, so you can get in and out of it without being seen. It even has protected parking. I could give you the use of that apartment for your fun and games." "An apartment!" she exclaimed, studying his face. "What will I have to do there?" "I'm sure you can deduce most of it. Basically you'll loan me your tight little cunt with no strings attached. What I have in mind is pretty much what happened the other day. I'd take you when the others are played out." Her eyes danced back and forth on his. He could almost hear the wheels turning in her head. "Can I bring boys of my own choice?" "I don't see why not. _Boys_, now, not men!" "How would I get in?" "I'd let you in. I have to be there, Bobbie. Boys can get out of hand in a hurry." "I know it," she agreed. "That's what happened at my first gang- bang." "They were rowdy?" "They had a fight. The cops showed up." "Good god! What happened to you?" "I ... sneaked away. I know better than to let the cops catch me fucking." "Smart girl! And thanks for telling me. May I assume, then, that you like my proposition?" She nodded. "That apartment sounds interesting. Can I go there today?" "No, not today. I have to make some arrangements. But it'll be soon. Let me ask you again, it _is_ Alan Shindle that your notes regard so highly?" "Yeah." "How are you getting along with him?" "I fucked him yesterday." "Did you! Excellent! He was a virgin, I bet." "He didn't say, but, yeah, he acted like it." "Was he able to ..." "Squirt? Oh, yeah: gobs! He has a nice, straight dick with a bright pink knob." "Bobbie, you're making my mouth water." She laughed. "You'd like me to take him to that apartment, wouldn't you?" "I would, but ..." He took a deep breath. "The risk is so terrible! One has to be extremely careful at first, until the lad shows if he's a braggart." "A what?" "If he enjoys telling his friends about his experiences." She shook her head. "He hasn't told anyone about me yet." "How do you know?" "My good friend would've clued me if she heard it." "I see," he said admiringly. "You understand how these things work." She grinned. "As you said, I'm still a kid." He snorted. "Or an old woman in a kid's body." He added thoughtfully, "What one also has to worry about is guilt. Do you think Alan would feel guilty if he let a grown man enjoy him?" "I don't know." She smiled slowly, eyes distant. "But I think I know how to find out." * * * "Hannah, you know who this is," the familiar voice on her answering machine had declaimed. "Call me special tonight at eight." She was greatly relieved when, digging through a shoebox of receipts in the back of her bedroom closet, she came across Bernie's "special" telephone number, the one in the blind apartment that she had visited once, ten years before. She had spent three days there and could hardly walk when she left, but god, what a wonderful three days! Having stopped by a bank before it closed for ten dollars in quarters, she was ready to do business when she found a gasoline station with a free-standing telephone booth, one well-lit with no car parked nearby. After inserting the required coins, she keyed the special number at one minute after eight. A guarded voice answered on the first ring. "Hello." "Bernie, is that you?" "Hannah?" "It's me, Bernie, still kicking." "Yeah, aren't we both. Thanks for calling, Hannah. I need to talk about those two lovebirds you sent me a month or so back." "How're they working out, Bernie?" "Oh, they're doing fine. You were right, as usual: a tart who's a nurse is something special. It's not them; it's their baggage." "You mean the kid?" "Kid? What kid?" "I told you about the twelve year old girl who's staying with them." "Oh, yeah. No. At least I don't _think_ she's the problem. Kid, eh? That'll bear looking into. Hold on a sec." She heard a pen scratching. "What _is_ the problem, Bernie?" "Did you know my nephew, Little Pete?" "I don't believe so, Bernie." "He wasn't much, but he was all I had left, if you know what I mean." "'Was?'" "Yeah, _was_. Somebody bumped him last week. In his car. I've got his last conversation on tape, and you know what? It was about your lovebirds." "It was?" "The bastard snuffed Pete when he didn't tell how to locate them." "He did! A cop?" "No, not a cop. Cops don't play that way unless they're in on the game. But that's not all. Two of my guys didn't report in yesterday. We found them this morning, what was left of them, taped to water pipes in their apartment building, along with a note." "Not about Paul and Jenny!" "But it was. It says, 'Sooner or later you will give me Paul Lanning and Jenny Collier. I hope you have some people left when you do.'" "Good god, Bernie!" "Not so good. Hanna, I know you always play straight with me. I also know you're a sucker for hard cases. Hell, _I_ was one once myself! And maybe I still owe you. But I'm asking you, for my own protection and maybe for yours, too, if there's anything about those two you forgot to mention." The line was silent for a moment. At last she said, "I told you the Ohio cops was after them. For murder." "No," he disagreed patiently, "not murder, exactly. I checked on that. They're wanted for questioning, not as suspects. They're not really fugitives, not the kind the feds would take an interest in -- though they probably don't realize it." She sighed. "Bernie, I don't _know_! Nobody's bothered me about them except the cops. That lieutenant from Bering -- what was his name, Calhoun? Yeah, Calhoun -- he grilled me pretty good. One of the locals that my girls do favors for had to pull him off. I thought he came on awful strong. I even asked him if they were serial killers or something." "What'd he say?" "That was when my guy told him to take it easy. But he took my registry downtown and made a copy of it." Again the line was silent until the man said, "That may be how the cops knew they were in Chicago. I know they found the car here where it had been left. That Ohio lieutenant came visiting and looked it over, not that it helped him much. Your lovebirds apparently abandoned it at the first empty parking slot. Smart of them! But, Hannah, what I can't find out is how anyone associated them with _me_!" She took a breath and straightened her shoulders. "I'm the only one _here_ that knew about it, but you must have a lot of people there who know." "If it was just the cops, I'd say one of my guys was the blabber, hard as that would be to take, even if I can't imagine why he would do it. But this isn't the cops. Apparently it's only one man, though I admit he's a devil." "Didn't you suggest you might let Jenny take over for one of your girls you had to let go? Maybe she was jealous." "No." He chuckled grimly. "I can assure you, that one is not jealous. Though another might be. I'll look into it. But, Hannah, who could anyone blab _to_? Who is it that wants them bad enough to kill my guys over it?" When Bernie had sought her help during the federal shake-up, his voice had contained similar puzzlement. As she had done then, she adopted a businesslike, no-nonsense tone of her own. "There's too much we don't know about those two," she declared flatly. "Why don't you send a couple of good detectives to Bering to look around?" "Hmm. Maybe you've got something there." "Have you asked Paul and Jenny point-blank, Bernie?" "No." "Well, why don't you? And show them those guys hanging from the pipes." "I could show them the pictures we took." He sighed. "But I won't. Jenny's too popular with my best clients. I'm afraid it would scare her right out of Chicago. No ... But I'll send the dicks. And thank you for calling, Hannah. I always feel better after I talk to you." "Any time, Bernie." When she had hung up the receiver, she mumbled under her breath, "Wish I could say the same about you." NEXT: Chapter 18: Playing Both Ends Varangian: ludmax11@hotmail.com Kellis: kellis@dhp.com -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+