Tired Heroes

Bodnar lay sleepless in bed, Laura sleeping peacefully beside him. His hand lay under the waistband of her pajama bottoms, caressing her soft, sparse pubic dawn; it had a calming effect on him. He had been stunned when Wallner dismissed him and sent him into early retirement, just as he had announced. Even so, it came as a surprise, precisely at the moment the Frank Halter case was closed. He had gathered his belongings from his desk and left without a word. He walked silently past Rosenblatt, who had extended his hand. Laura had dropped her pen onto the homework book, crept into bed with him, and lovingly undressed him. She had become Bodnar's little wife days ago, maybe a week ago, and since then she had used every minute to fuck with him. Yvette sat motionless on her bed, watching them fuck with a look of despair and dismay. She covered her ears; the dominant patriarch had once again conquered a female and subjugated her.

But Bodnar's mind was far away. How had all this shit even started!? Back when he was still in vice, he had rescued Yvette from the mire abyss; otherwise, she would have died a wretched death on the streets. He liked the little one; she was the most grateful wife in the world, a lustful wildcat who challenged him sexually every night. He had had quite a few lovers before, but none like her. He had never had a girl or a woman who orgasmed so easily and so often during sex. She ended every day by masturbating, no matter how many times she had orgasmed during sex before. He loved the cheeky, wild and unbridled way she lived out her sexuality. He had to grudgingly acknowledge that he had also preserved her libido. She masterfully feigned remorse and unhesitatingly embarked on the next affair. He might beat her, punch her in the face. Her desires controlled her life, even as she grew older.

Yvette truly loved him, with all her heart. No, she distinguished very clearly between gratitude and love, a love that only blossomed in the first months of their marriage. He was a good-natured Grumpy bear who usually turned a blind eye to her prostitution. She quickly discovered how receptive he was to variety. She had a full phone book of willing girls and women, and now she thrilled him with many magnificent threesomes. She herself was bisexual and devoured the girls and women before his greedy eyes. Then it was his turn to properly fuck her partner. Yvette was very proud of his magnificent, potent virility. He reminded her of her father, who had made her a woman at 13 and for years had sex with her next to her grieving mother in the marital bed, ultimately turning her into a whore. But he was an impressively potent man, and Yvette admired him greatly. Now it was she who provided her husband with so many women, as an added bonus to their marital sex — probably hundreds. When one woman knelt before the other to lick her clit, he knelt behind her and slid his penis between her buttocks. Most of the time, he was content to simply insert his penis into the woman's cunthole; only rarely did he fuck her in that position.

He was always moved when Yvette lured a virgin into her bed. He wasn't a sentimental fool, but whenever he had to deflower a girl, he was always moved to tears. Yvette wouldn't tolerate any objections, and if necessary, she held the terrified girl in her arms like a vise so that Bodnar could deflower her. She didn't care at all that they were essentially raping the poor child; after all, she had come of her own free will, and now there was no turning back. Yvette held the girl tightly in her arms and watched as he gently and sensitively, yet firmly, broke the girl's hymen, then continued to fuck her softly and gently until she orgasmed. Very few girls experienced orgasm so soon after being deflowered; now Yvette's tongue could complete the act. The girl lay sprawled before her, speechless; she had never experienced so much pain, pleasure, and ecstasy. And now the woman licked her aching cunt and her small, sensitive clit to beautiful, delicate orgasms. Bodnar was a policeman through and through, so he never asked the girls' ages to avoid feeling like he was committing a crime. These wonderful threesomes and deflowerings forged a strong bond between him and her. But on bad days, her promiscuous promiscuity with other men enraged him. Then he would beat her senseless, and when his anger had subsided, he would masturbate Yvette as a sign that he still loved her. Yvette recognized this and wiped the tears from her eyes.

Even after the first few months of her marriage, she frequently let her father fuck her again on her free mornings and afternoons when Bodnar was at work, because the old man fucked her exceptionally well, far better than anyone else. Perhaps this was just her imagination, perhaps simply because he had been her First and had fucked her for years as a young girl in her parents' bed in front of her mother. Her mother had watched silently and tearfully as her husband deflowered and fucked her own daughter after the mother had given herself to him in passion. Yvette had always snuggled against her mother's body, pressed her face on Mommy's inner thighs and watched attentively as her father fucked her mother, and her mother orgasmed like a champion. The mother could never understand why her husband had to fuck her daughter. Yvette always looked into her mother's dark cunthole, from which her father's juices slowly trickled out. The mother always became aroused while watching the incest; she closed her eyes and masturbated slowly and very reverently, watching the incestuous act with a few tears in her eyes. Yvette's heart rejoiced when she saw her mother masturbate, for then her mother forgot all her suffering and gave herself completely to her passion. Yvette gazed at her mother's beautiful, heavily haired fuckhole and her small, pointed clit, which she gently rubbed up and down. She and Yvette looked into each other's eyes, and they were two women who, at the same time, masturbated, were fucked, and orgasmed again and again.

Yes, for her father had taught little Yvette to run up the hill to orgasm while being fucked and then to jump easily from orgasm to orgasm. Yes, little Yvette loved her lustful mother and her father, who made her jump from orgasm to orgasm. Little Yvette closed her eyes with a smile as her father lifted her by the hips at the end and ejaculated inside with rapid, furious thrusts. Yes, Yvette smiled happily and felt every spurt her father shot into her little pussyhole. Even now, married to Bodnar, she went to her father's in the late morning and again in the afternoon to be properly fucked twice a day. Her father was now in his fifties, but still potent enough to fuck Yvette twice a day. He still attracted Yvette like a magnet, and she let him fuck her as often as she could discreetly. She was pleased that her mother, even at her age, still masturbated while watching them fucking, just as she had always done as a young woman. Only now she had mellowed and smiled as she allowed her husband and daughter a little forbidden pleasure. And so it happened, in an unprotected moment, that her own father impregnated her. Yvette, however, acted as if the child were Bodnar's; otherwise, he would have chased her away or even killed her. - Of course, Bodnar had known for a long time that Yvette let her father have sex with her every day, but it didn't bother him. And of course, he suspected that Laura was the product of this incestuous relationship, but Yvette remained stubbornly silent.

Their child, Laura, always crept into her parents' bed, because watching her parents make love was the most exciting thing for the girl since she was seven. She usually pressed her hot, sweaty face against Yvette's inner thighs to watch the fucking up close. She couldn't get enough of watching his thick cock stretch Yvette's tight fuckhole and pound and thrust inside it like a steam engine. Breathless, she stared at his dick when, at the end, he pumped his semen into Yvette's hole in strong spurts. Laura knew that this was the real purpose of fucking and that this was how babies were made. But Yvette didn't want any more children and used contraception very strictly.

Laura must have been 12 or 13 when the big fight broke out, and of course it was Yvette's whoreing that sent Bodnar into a rage. Blind with fury, he slammed his fist against Yvette's lips. She had defended herself by scratching and biting and was now wiping the blood from her mouth. "Go ahead and grope the child, you incestuous pig!" she shrieked like a madwoman, "She's not even your own child!" Bodnar froze. Not his child?! No matter how hard he beat her, she would never reveal the father's name. The venomous serpent of suspicion, the goddess Apate, bit its own tail and completed the circle. It explained why little Laura was so foolishly lustful, why she absolutely had to be present when her parents made love, and why she always dragged his hand under the waistband of her pajamas. The realization sank in. The realization sank in and it explained why little Laura was so madly horny, why she absolutely had to be present when her parents fucked, and why she always dragged his hand under the waistband of her pajamas so he must caress her cunny and her clit. Even when she sat backward on her dad's lap while watching TV, she pulled off her panties and yanked his hand down to her cunnie's cleft. He ignored Yvette's disapproving glances and stroked Laura's cleft with heart-pounding pleasure. Laura leaned against him and spread her legs wide; he caressed her tiny clit and only stopped when the little girl was on the verge of orgasm. Then he waited and did it again and again. Yvette stared at her daughter's cleft and cunny and missed half the show. She would have surely thrown herself at him, screaming, if he had ever brought Laura to orgasm. He reassured Yvette with a grin, saying there was nothing wrong with it and that the little girl wanted it herself.

Since that row, he slept in the guest bed, the room adjoining the bedroom without a door; it had probably been the dressing room in former bourgeois times. Bodnar and Yvette now slept in separate beds, listening intently and sullenly to each other's sighs and moans. Siblings in adjacent children's rooms, who hated each other with a passion. Laura didn't have to choose; she naturally slept with her father, pulled his hand under the waistband of her pajamas, and drifted into girlish fantasies while he caressed her tiny cunny. Laura masturbated every night, and Bodnar was very surprised the first night; he hadn't known that before. Laura explained that she had copied Yvette and had done it every night since early childhood. Bodnar, of course, knew from the beginning that Yvette masturbated every night before falling asleep, and he had initially watched her with interest, but at some point, he had seen it. Now Laura pulled off her pajama bottoms and spread her legs apart like a frog.

She instructed him on what to do: to place his hand and fingers very gently on her vulva. Then she slipped her hand under his warm, large hand and vigorously masturbated her clit. He had never seen Laura like this before; panting heavily and sweating, she worked her clit for a good ten or fifteen minutes. Bodnar realized that she masturbated just like Yvette, her finger rubbing her clit in a circular motion, not up and down like some of his extramarital lovers. The girl was sweating with excitement, her eyes rolling back in lust, so he could only see the white of her eyes. She was pressing her finger against her clit in a circular motion with loud gasps. Laura's gasps grew louder as she approached ecstasy, and now her juices flowed over his fingers. She let out a soft piglet's squeal as orgasm shook her body, and in her ecstasy, she pressed one of his fingers against her clit. She whispered, "I'm not finished yet, Daddy," and continued. She usually masturbated two or three times before falling asleep, until she was satisfied. "I've wet your fingers, Daddy," she whispered shyly, cleaning them with her pyjama sleeve. She pulled her pyjama bottoms back on and kissed him on the cheek. "Good night, Daddy," she whispered, pulling his hand under the waistband of her pajamas and placing it on her vulva. Bodnar kissed her forehead. "You did very well, my little one." She fell asleep almost immediately.

Bodnar's flat hand then rested warmly on her mounds, and his middle finger lay calmly along the cleft, the "valley of the dolls." Both her mons pubis and the mounds were hot, round and filled with hot blood from masturbation, and the soft, blond fuzz tickled his palm slightly. She dreamed and fantasized vividly, but he felt how the purely platonic touch began to form a previously unknown, yet intense father-daughter bond. Yes, a delicate, soft and innocent plant was growing deep within the grumpy Bodnar's heart. No, Yvette's plant was broken, withered and dried up, and Bodnar learned to ignore his wife completely. Nevertheless, she was still his wife and looked longingly at her husband and daughter, the two of them nestled together in their sleep. Once a week, Bodnar would stalk into Yvette's room at night and take her wordlessly, selfishly, and without emotion. Yvette and he didn't exchange a word; she had always been very easy to orgasm and would gasp loudly until the orgasms washed over her body. Laura would follow him, her eyes wide open, tormented by despair, envy, and jealousy.

For a whole year, Laura fantasized whenever she felt the warmth of her father's hand. Every night, she masturbated intensely, pressing his flat hand against her clit in ecstasy. She took his fingers and let them glide over her clit. She let his finger plunge into the "valley of the dolls," guiding it over all the wrinkles and dimples to her clit. Her father kept his eyes closed and growled like a bear as she guided his finger in her cunny and over her clit. Bodnar knew how innocent and pure of heart these excursions Laura undertook with his finger were and passively allowed it. The little girl put her lips to his ear. "I always do it, just like Mommy does, Daddy," she whispered her confession in his ear. But it took weeks before she could definitively place her father's finger on her clit. "Mommy does it every night too, just like me," she whispered, but Bodnar simply wasn't listening to her. The hunt for Frank Halter haunted him. "Yeah, yeah," he growled absentmindedly, "everyone does it, especially the promiscuous harlots." He didn't care that Laura was working her clit next to him, panting and sweating profusely; his mind was elsewhere.

Like Rosenblatt, he too had fallen for Rachel Kerzendocht. Kerzendocht was a special kind of woman. An ordinary housewife, a shy and devout Jew without any particular charm, a wallflower. But with her clumsy striptease, she revealed her womanly, curvaceous, sinful body. And Bodnar succumbed to every woman who was lustful and driven by desire. Rachel told him, and then Rosenblatt as well, that fucking like the uncircumcised Christians was truly dull, bland, and boring for the woman. She really wanted to be fucked hard. He had to pull his cock all the way out each time and then ram it right back in like a chisel. That would send little electric shocks to her clit and her brain, and that was exactly what she wanted. He and Rosenblatt also enjoyed the new technique; they rammed their cocks into Kerzendocht's cunthole with such force that it made her shake and shiver. Yes, this went against everything that simply shouldn't happen to a detective, but it did. It didn't bother his conscience in the slightest, since Rosenblatt felt the same way.

Laura continued, unwaveringly carrying on step by step. She now took his finger, intending to do the same to herself as her mother did. This was too much for the self-appointed moral guardian, who beat his conscience black and blue. But he couldn't undo Laura's actions. Bodnar's heart stopped for a moment as Laura took his finger like a pencil and drew circle after circle on her clit. Her tongue, tightly clamped between her lips, she diligently continued drawing the picture, panting and sweating. The child left no spot untouched, meticulously filling every empty space with color. Laura guided his fingertip along the moist path, letting it dance on her clit for many minutes. Her fingers gripped the pencil tightly as ecstasy made her tremble and twitch. And after the ecstasy, she wrapped her girlish arms around his neck, she sighed deeply and whispered in his ear, "You must thrust into me like Yvette, please—please!" But now he firmly rebuked her. "Never, Laura, never! You are my daughter, and I am not a child molester!" But Laura merely shrugged and continued her whispered begging relentlessly, every night.

Laura wept silently, for with tears she could get anything from Papa, anything at all. Bodnar's eyes trembled; he couldn't bear to see Laura cry. Of course, Yvette followed all this with unease and vigilance, as she did every night; she could hear even the faintest whisper. "If you won't pound me like Yvette," the little girl whispered calculatingly, triumphantly sizing him up beneath veiled, tear-filled eyes, "then at least do the finger play for me, Papa, please! The way Yvette does it, the proper finger play!" Bodnar's heart softened, as did his mind. "Very well, then soften up, like Yvette does when she needs it badly. You've surely been spying on her," Bodnar grumbled, with the queasy feeling of a loser. Laura nodded in a whisper, "Yes, Papa, of course I'm spying. She does it every night after you've fallen asleep." Laura pulled her pajamas all the way down and spread her legs, bent like frog legs. She had won again, and it felt divine, simply goddamn divine. Bodnar's fingertip found her clit, of course. He had remembered well how Laura had guided his finger and did the same, painting the colorful picture with a steady hand. He watched Laura's slightly twitching and sweaty face, full of affection, pouring all his love over her clit and cunny until she trembled and twitched all over. Yvette was almost consumed with jealousy whenever Bodnar sat up and masturbated Laura. It was a small price for him to pay to avoid having to really thrust, he defended himself against the grumpy vice cop inside. And from now on, Laura demanded his finger play every night.

Yvette watched them in the dim light, masturbating slowly and absentmindedly in a cross-legged position for perhaps an hour. Then she leaned back and began the intense final stretch. Bodnar and Laura sat up and looked over; he pressed Laura's face against his hairy chest as if to hide her from seeing. Only Yvette's lower body was visible, her thighs spread wide. Her finger raced across her clit as if driven by furies; she panted and gasped pitifully. At her climax, she tugged and pulled at her poor clit like a madwoman. She continued rubbing for minutes after her orgasm, then folded her legs together. "She does that every night, Dad, long after you've fallen asleep," Laura whispered, and he pulled her close.

He had been whispering with Rosenblatt in the coffee corner. Rosenblatt was a good friend, and had openly and frankly described his affair with Elli to him. For Rosenblatt, it was the most natural thing in the world; he didn't allow rules or laws across the threshold of his bedroom. This was his privacy, his private kingdom, and the princess got the king. It sounded so simple when Rosenblatt spoke of it. With glittering eyes, Bodnar slowly leafed through the slut's nude photos and videos. Of course, he recognized her lustful nature instantly; he knew all such women from his time in the vice squad. Greedy harpies who weren't just after the man's money, but who also greedily devoured everyone to stuff them into their large, insatiable emptiness. He understood perfectly now why Rosenblatt called her nothing but "the slut". But Elli, posing obscenely, almost took his breath away. The daughter was just as much a slut as her mother, and he wasn't at all surprised that Rosenblatt had taken her. Elli still had plenty of baby fat, but her breasts were gradually taking shape in the style of the great slut. Her pointed teats stood out boldly, aggressive and by no means innocent. At the climax, she pulled and tore at one teat. Her very femininity was already a weapon, ready to devour foolish Danaans. Both the slut and Elli burned themselves indelibly into Bodnar's retina.

He reluctantly handed Rosenblatt the phone back, the big slut and the little slut dancing the cha-cha-cha in Bodnar's mind. "No, Rosenblatt, I'll never fuck with my Laura, not in a million years!" He reluctantly handed his iPhone to Rosenblatt; after all, he had collected plenty of nude photos and videos of Yvette and Laura. Rosenblatt commented with a connoisseur's eye. "Yvette, well, maybe not my league, Bodnar. More breasts and more hips, that's where I need her. But Laura, she's much slimmer and more delicate than my Elli. Those small, girlish breasts, magnificent and like the finest porcelain! And the soft, light blonde fuzz enhances her girlishness even more. Elli already has to trim her bush with scissors, old champ. Laura will probably challenge you more and demand more from you than Yvette!" Rosenblatt's eyes caressed Laura's beautiful, girlish body for minutes, while he watched her masturbate shy and shameful in front of the camera. "One day, when you're ready, Bodnar, we'll have to share the girls!" But Bodnar shook his head and said firmly, "Not in a million years, Rosenblatt!" At the same time, a scream rose within him, a scream of desire for Elli, the little slut. Yes, a steamy friendship developed between them, and they exchanged their nude photos and videos, giggling like naughty schoolboys.

Rosenblatt came up with the idea. "Bodnar, what's one of Frank Halter's weaknesses? His mother, yes, his beloved mother. It would cut him to the core if we stopped treating her with kid gloves. If we used her like Kerzendocht, brazenly and quite indecently. It will cut him to the core, shatter his twisted masculinity, if we take her for our amusement and fuck her properly like Rachel. It will drive him crazy, and he'll make mistakes. What do you think?" Bodnar had to agree; Rosenblatt understood something about psychology, not just Morgentau. Bodnar pointed out that the old woman was really old, wrinkled and withered, only in the arms of Kerzendocht did she still awaken. Rosenblatt nudged him in the side. "Get a grip, old friend! For God, the King, and England!"

Bodnar bit heartfully in Laura's teats as her ecstasy began to roll. Yvette coughed like someone with lung disease, but Bodnar ignored his wife; this wasn't her business, it was none of her concern, damn it!

Bodnar had been playing this finger game with Laura for months now, and she finally stopped talking about fucking and being fucked. She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, "I learned how to do it to boys at school." Nothing more, just a casual remark after the fingering game. Laura straightened up and pulled Bodnar's trousers off. She knelt between his thighs, pulled back his circumcised foreskin, and exposed the glans. "Daddy, are you really a circumcised Jew?" she asked, playfully pulling his foreskin back and forth. "Yes," he growled, "a circumcised, damned jewish dog, that's what I am!"

Laura flinched; she hadn't expected the aggressive tone. "I'm only asking because you have the same foreskin as Freddy and Johnny." He conceded. "They only cut off the very tip, little one." Laura nodded and inspected his penis closely. "A beautiful penis, and much bigger than Johnny and Freddy's." Bodnar said nothing; there was no comment to be made. "I'll do it for you, Daddy. Just sit back and relax!" the little girl commanded. "I've done it a hundred times with my two friends," said Laura. "Freddy's mom doesn't mind, us playing naked on Freddy's bed. She just grins mischievously when she comes in unexpectedly, but after a while she leaves grinning again. She once told Freddy that a boy always needs a good girlfriend who lets him cum nicely. That's just how she is, Freddy's mom."

Again, she clamped her tongue between her lips and did it to him, quickly, expertly, and sweatily, rubbing him hard until he ejaculated. He watched her while she rubbed him. She was 13, maybe 14, and very slim, almost boyish. She didn't have proper breasts yet, but on the small mounds, he could see her pointed, stiff nipples. The pale pink nipples trembled in sync with her vigorous rubbing motions. He stared at these dancing nipples; they were so different from Yvette's. He asked where she had learned how to rub boys? She said Johnny and Freddie, her best friends, had let her try and practice. "And then what?" he asked. "Well, the two of them are allowed to masturbate in front of my cunt, and when they come, I spread my labia with my fingers and they can ejaculate inside, as far as it could go. No, they're not allowed to fuck me, I made that very clear to them. My dad will do my first time when he's ready."

He had to avoid her intense gaze. "Sometimes Freddy's mom catches us, but she just grins happily, she stays under the door, waiting until both guys are kneeling in front of my pussy, jerking off and ejaculating. 'Boys, don't ejaculate inside, don't make the little one unhappy!' she says then, and we nod. I say, 'Mrs. Monroe, I'm not letting the boys have proper sex yet, quite honestly.' Then she grins from ear to ear and leaves, grinning contentedly like a cat. I think she really enjoys watching the boys kneeling in front of my pussy, jerking off and ejaculating upon my pussy."

She stared at the opening in his glans and continued rubbing firmly. "I always thought Jewish men didn't have foreskins." He understood her question. "Circumcisers don't cut off the whole foreskin, just the very tip." "Aha," she nodded, "I see." With wide, open eyes, she watched his spurting ejaculation, letting his semen splash across her chest and wiping it away with her sleeve. "I can do it for you every night if you like, Dad." He nodded. "Yes, that would be really nice if you sometimes do it for me, Laura. "You just have to rub while it's squirting and also for a little while longer so that it's really nice for me." He later slipped his hand under the waistband of her pajamas and fell asleep almost immediately, while Laura continued to masturbate vigorously.

Laura whispered, "Is it really okay to swallow it, Papa? The others say it's de-li-ci-ous." Bodnar was too tired to stop her. "Fine by me, Laura, it's not poisonous," he whispered wearily. Laura's lips lowered over his glans before the ejaculation and closed tightly around it, and she continued to rub him. Her tongue danced on his glans; she obviously knew very well what she was doing. Soon he had to ejaculate, and the semen spurted deep into her mouth, and she swallowed it all with a pleasurable and shy shudder. Yvette looked over from the other side and coughed loudly and emphatically. Her Laura knelt between his thighs, eagerly milking his semen, her tongue clamped in the corner of her mouth by her lips, and now she bent over to drink and swallow Bodnar's semen like a cheap streetwalker!

Yvette held her breath until Laura had slurped and swallowed everything. All she could do was cough loudly in disapproval. Laura ignored her cough completely and cleaned Bodnar with the sleeve of her pajamas. - He had swallowed hard. Laura had taken him by surprise, without warning, without any fuss. Her comrades had instructed her precisely how it was done; they had certainly given Laura a demonstration on a live subject. Yvette sat up agitatedly in bed and coughed emphatically and very disapprovingly. Bodnar jumped up angrily and stomped over to Yvette. He threw her brutally onto the pillows and took her roughly and brutally, panting and puffing like a bull. She is and was just as much of a slut as Rosenblatt's ex; she had no right to cough here!

It was clear that neither Hofstätter nor Morgentau approved of his and Rosenblatt's actions. Ron said, "Frank Halter will be annoyed, yes. But he's not stupid enough to make a colossal mistake over this. He thinks like a killer, not an altar boy, folks. He'd drown dead his own mother if it suited his purposes." But Bodnar remained unmoved. He met Morgentau's accusing glare. "No, we're not the idiots, not us!" he grumbled. "Your father was a rabbi, and you're still the sweet little pastor's daughter, Doctor! There's no such thing as the perfect detective, in shining armor on a snow-white stallion. Wake up, Rosa, we have to deal with the lowest scum of this city and get our hands dirty! It's not us who are delaying the arrest. It's you who lets him rape you regularly, God knows what good that's supposed to do! You just let him screw you over like crazy instead of putting a bullet in his head!" Bodnar turned around and simply left them standing there. Ron said laconically, "There's something to that, Rosa!"

Bodnar had returned from his bar crawl. He was quite tipsy, but not drunk. He had the feeling he'd only been sent to the bars so he wouldn't annoy everyone at the office. Laura lay half-naked on his bed, her bare legs spread like a frog, rubbing her clit with intense sweating. She smiled sweetly at him and whispered that she'd been working on it for hours. He threw himself onto the bed and watched her performance with a warm shudder. He watched approvingly for a while and then undressed. He placed his dick on her chest. Laura paused only briefly, pulled back the foreskin, and took the glans with her lips grinning and continuing to masturbate. Yvette was also lying on her bed, giggling and snickering on the phone, and stroking her breasts. Bodnar grinned; all that was missing was him joining in. But it didn't occur to him. Laura was panting and sweating and whispering with his glans between her lips, that she was far from finished. She had already come so far that she only needed a few moments to reach her next ecstasy.

Laura's ecstasy made her tremble and twitch wildly. At the climax, her lips bit down hard on his glans, almost painfully. But he grinned; what a little devil she was! She grabbed him and, with a mischievous smile, pulled him between her frog-like spread legs. The head of his cock touched her moist, dancing cunny. Bodnar grinned through the glittering curtain left behind by the drinks and aperitifs. "I think you want to take me over the edge today, my little one." Laura wiped the sweat from her face and continued with her clit. "No, Daddy, I just want to feel you very close, very close." Tiny beads of sweat detached from her forehead and ran down her heated cheeks. Bodnar's loins grew hotter as the head of his dick touched her dancing vulva. "You're about to push me over, my love," he gasped helplessly, his passion burning brightly.

A heavenly light shone across Laura's face. "Thrust, really thrust like Yvette?" Bodnar nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe today is your big day, your lucky day." Laura looked at him with wide eyes. "Yes, Daddy, today is my lucky day. You want to take me like Yvette, finally!" He shook his head. "No, child, I want to be gentle and tender with you, not rough and brutal like with Yvette!" Heat spilled down from his navel. "It'll sting the first time, little princess," he murmured. Laura smiled knowingly. "I know, Daddy!" and pulled him forward impatiently. "Well then, in God's name!" murmured our good Bodnar and thrust forward. Her hymen offered little resistance; it tore with a soft pop, and he pushed his cock deep into her virginal little hole. He hadn't felt such a delicate, fine, and tight fuckhole in a long time, perhaps only in the beginning, when Yvette had brought him virgins to deflower.

Laura flinched slightly, but didn't make a sound. She gazed wide into his eyes, amazed like a child before a wonderfully glittering Christmas tree. He fucked her gently until she, as easily as Yvette, leaped violently from orgasm to orgasm. He lifted her ass so that her pussy opened like a blooming flower, and then he ejaculated inside her. After their shared happy ending, he slid to the side. Laura snuggled against him, her lips on his neck. "Daddy, how many times can men actually go?" she asked. He was still drunk. "It depends. Once, twice, or three times, if you ask me." She pulled him between her thighs, and he did it to her a second and a third time. Freed from all his demons, he poured his seed inside her without hesitation - once, twice, and three times.

Yvette had ended her spicy phone call and stared in disbelief at the scene in the guest bed. "You did it, you monster!" she shrieked, her first words in months. Bodnar fucked Laura slowly and deliberately, who squealed with orgasm again and again. He held out his outstretched hand to Yvette, his index finger extended. "Shut your mouth, I'm telling you!" But Yvette continued to shriek and hurl the most obscene names at him. He stopped the fourth round with a growl and climbed out of bed cursing. Naked and broad-shouldered, he stomped over to Yvette. She continued to shriek that he had raped the poor child! That was the last straw. He slapped his wife, the likes of which she had never received before; spit and blood flew from her mouth onto the carpet. "Shut your mouth, I said!" he said in a voice that seemed to rise from the depths of his soul. He felt the blood rushing to his loins. He grabbed Yvette and took her as roughly and brutally as he hadn't in a long time. Yvette then curled up on the sheet. Bodnar lifted one of her legs until her genitals were open like a ripe fruit, defenseless, and masturbated her quickly and expertly. He hadn't done it for months; it was always a sign that, despite all his roughness, he still liked her somehow. Yvette closed her eyes and quickly had a second, third and fourth orgasm. Bodnar slapped her buttocks roughly several times, really hard. "I don't want to hear another word, do you hear me? Run and get her the pill, if you have an ounce of decency left!"

Bodnar had slept off his drunkenness; Laura was still fast asleep. He heaved himself out of bed and stepped into the shower. There he woke up, more sober than ever. He had done the terrible thing; he had thrown away his honor like a used tissue. A police officer, a vice squad officer, a detective never did such a thing. Not in a million years. He crouched on the shower tray under the spray. He would have to go to the president and submit his resignation, six years before retirement! The water was now ice-cold; he turned it off. He stood up with difficulty, a Hercules carrying the heavy world globe on his shoulders.

Wallner had almost laughed at him and ordered him back to work. The president didn't want to hear anything about saying goodbye, not when you were in the middle of a murder case! Bodnar told Rosenblatt about Laura, his voice trembling, as they stood by the coffee machine. Rosenblatt just gave him a friendly, buddy-like pat on the shoulder, then left. Bodnar wasn't sure if Rosa had heard him. Actually, it didn't matter; he'd become a miserable worm, a worm like Rosenblatt. Bodnar sat down at a small table and wept into his coffee cup. Ron came by and glanced at him briefly, then sat down. "Bodnar, if you need someone to talk to, I'm here." He placed his hand reassuringly on Bodnar's forearm. Bodnar looked at him through his tears. "It's something private, Ronald." Ron nodded and shrugged. "Sometimes the sky comes down without asking the time." Bodnar looked at him. "It's something private, Ronald. Nothing professional." Ronald shrugged. "You're certainly not so down because of your thing with Kerzendocht. I'm here, Bodnar, I'm ready to listen. Whatever it is." Bodnar was silent for a long time.

"I was just with the president, I offered my resignation. He just laughed at me and sent me back to work. He thought I wanted to leave because of the Kerzendocht situation. But that's not the case. At the CID, it can always happen that you fuck with a sweet fig, but that wasn't it, Ronald. The president didn't get it." Ronald was silent; they were alone in the coffee corner, the others were working at their desks. Ron was silent; Bodnar should talk, he just wanted to listen.

"Rosa gave me the boot, with a proper kick in the pants. I deserved it, because she made it perfectly clear that she would leave me if it turned out to be incest." Bodnar's tears had dried, and now he tried to read Ronald's face. "I fell right into my daughter's trap, like a lousy beginner. I'm just as much of a worm as Rosenblatt." Ron didn't even flinch. Bodnar wiped his tears away with the back of his hand. "It all happened so slowly, step by step. Rosa warned me from the very beginning that I was heading towards incest, but I laughed at her, not in a million years, Rosa! It happened so slowly, so insidiously, that I didn't realize it in time." Bodnar wiped his nose with his jacket sleeve.

"It was all because of that unfortunate marital spat. I gave Yvette a good thrashing; she just can't stop behaving like a whore. One word leads to another, of course. Then she screams that I should just keep groping my daughter, that she's not my child anyway. That's when I saw red. Sure, I'd always suspected that Laura was her own father's daughter, but Yvette finally blurted it out. Since then, we've slept in separate rooms, in separate beds. It's true, I always enjoyed stroking little Laura's cunny and clit when she sat on my lap while we watched TV. I didn't think it was indecent, okay?" Bodnar looked at Ron, but Ron remained silent.

"Laura is already 13, and since the marital spat, she's been sleeping next to me on the guest bed. Only now have I discovered that the little one masturbates every night like her mother. She'd pull my hand under her pajama bottoms, place it on her pussy while she masturbated once, twice, or three times. Rosa already scolded me then, telling me not to let my hand touch her cunny. Like an idiot, I laughed at Rosa. It's no big deal! Then, after months, Laura showed me how she wanted to be masturbated. I hesitated for a long time, but then I agreed because she begged me to fuck her! My own daughter! So I took the lesser of two evils and have been masturbating my little one ever since." Bernard gazed thoughtfully at the tabletop.

"Well, and one day she started giving me a handjob and swallowing my cum. She learned it from her friends, and she's not half bad at it." And then, a week ago, I came home from my pub crawl, where I was supposed to be tracking down Frank Halter's henchmen. I guess I wasn't entirely sober anymore, and that's when Laura lured me between her legs. I deflowered her and fucked her, by my soul! And since we fuck every free minute, like rabbits. I'm so ashamed, Ronald. Wallner hasn't fired me yet, but he'll do it at the first opportunity. Rosa, though, she fired me, immediately and without batting an eye, just like she said she would. I'm lost, Ronald, no one can help me now!" Bodnar hung his head.

Ronald took his hand. "Bodnar, I don't approve any incest, but I'm sure you know that. I'm sure it felt good to get it off your chest, that's okay. But I can't let you let this get you down. Our squad needs every man, and professionally speaking, incest has no bearing on our work. We treat Rosenblatt like a good investigator, whether he's fucking with his daughter or not. We want to treat you like a good investigator too; we can't do without you, Bodnar, Wallner's absolutely right about that. You're upset and hurt right now, so take it slow, I want you to. Grab the files, scan them and number them carefully, and enter them into the database. That will help us a lot, and it'll take your mind off things. You don't need to feel useless, Bodnar." Bodnar nodded gratefully. "You're right, Ronald. It's a worthwhile task that one has to do eventually anyway. I'll get right to it. Thank you, Ronald, for listening to me!" Bodnar was grateful that he could make himself useful and distract himself with a dull, routine task.

Bodnar went home earlier than usual. Yvette had dragged Laura to the gynecologist, had her thoroughly examined, and then went to the pharmacy with the prescription. When Bodnar got home, Yvette was sitting at the table with the sour sulky Laura, explaining everything about the pill, menstruation, and the catastrophe of an early pregnancy. The two of them were speaking to each other for the first time in months. He gave Yvette a quick wink, and she retreated to her bedroom. Laura immediately hugged him, pressing her face against his upper arm. "Dad, the doctor touched me down there, shone a light inside, and rubbed my clit really hard until it was completely stiff. But he didn't finish, the stupid man, he just stared at it through a magnifying glass until it was soft again. I felt like a brightly painted circus horse." Bodnar reassured her. "He has to examine you thoroughly, otherwise he can't prescribe the pill, but you need it, starting immediately. So there's no pregnancy if we're stupid and do it again." Laura nodded, appeased. "But rubbing the clit until it's stiff?" she asked doubtfully. But then she looked up. "Than it's okay, Dad."

Bodnar asked what else was on her mind. Laura looked at him uncertainly and whispered that Yvette probably wouldn't approve if she told him. "Yvette apparently knew the doctor from before, and she nodded when he asked if he could take my pictures. He must have taken a hundred pictures of himself rubbing my clit until it was stiff. I'd never seen it so clearly before; my clit became completely stiff and red. I'd never seen it so closely, but suddenly my clit popped out from under the hood like a thorn. But he didn't finish, the bastard. He kept taking pictures and licking his lips until my clit was completely soft again and finally disappeared. And suddenly his penis was inside me, so thick and fat that it almost burst me open. He just thrust in-out, in-out, in-out and then he ejaculated immediately, the bastard. Yvette pulled him out and scolded him. He could have her, but not me, damn it! She lay down on her belly over the desk, she hiked up her skirt and pulled her panties aside. She grabbed him and shoved his semi-erect penis labourously inside her cunthole. She forced him to do it to her, and then again immediately. They were barely half a meter away from me, and I finally stopped crying and stared at their shagging genitals. I stared closer than I had in a long time at Yvette's fuckhole and Lothar's cock, which only gradually became hard again and, after a long thrusting, ejaculated inside her. His balls bounced up and down as he pumped it in. But she wasn't satisfied and shrieked that he had to fuck her a second time, the bastard! He had to pump her endlessly until he finally managed it a second time. He just couldn't manage to ejaculate a third time. She scolded him because he fucked much worse now than before, this Doctor Lothar. Then we went to the pharmacy.

As they lay in bed that evening, Laura snuggled up to him. She never wore pajamas again; now they both lay naked, skin to skin. "Daddy, I always wanted Yvette's place, I always wanted to be your little Yvette." Bodnar said nothing for a long time. "I've been a man of honor all my life. Yesterday I threw my honor away. It wasn't right that I made you my little Yvette, Laura. I'm your dad, not your lover. That's Johnny and Freddie and who-knows-who else. One of your friends should have taken your virginity and popped your cherry; that would have been the right thing to do. They should have fuck you and ejaculate, that's the prooper way. As your dad, I'm not allowed to touch my daughter, and certainly not to take her virginity or fuck her. That goes against everything we believe in. Can you understand?" Laura understood, but she didn't grasp anything. And so, in the end, they did it every night, full of shame and full of pleasure, and Yvette buried her head in the pillows; she didn't want to see or to hear it, she didn't want to be beaten up anymore.

Laura whispered in his ear so loudless that Yvette could barely hear. "I let both boys fuck me every afternoon now, that's right, and of course they're allowed to cum inside me. Freddie's mom stands in the doorway and watches shamelessly as they take turns fucking me and cumming inside me. I reassured her that Dad got me the pill so he wouldn't get me pregnant. No, of course I didn't tell anyone about us, Dad! And then Freddy looked at me wide-eyed and told us. "Like every day after breakfast, my mom lies down in bed to masturbate; she doesn't make a big secret of it. I walk past her open door, and she calls me. So I go in; she's gently stroking her pussy because she's just done it. I stare at her pussy, and despite the wild bush, you can see everything. The large labia, the small labia growing directly out of her clit, and her large cunthole, gaping wide open, stretched by the dildo. She beckoned me over and grabbed my hard-on, but really hard. "Would you like to fuck a real woman, Freddy? Or is it enough for you to fuck Laura's little hole?" I couldn't say a word and just shook my head. I had to kneel between her thighs and she fisted me. She only ever did that on weekends when we all showered together. First she'd do it to Dad, then to me. She'd spread her labia with her fingers and let everything from outside squirt inside – it was outrageous! "Think about it, Freddy!" she called after me. That plunged me into deep despair, I can't possibly fuck my own mother!" So I kicked him in the shin. "Of course you can, you asshole! This is a unique opportunity to do it with a grown-up!" - "And that she's your mom, that's really irrelevant." I gave him some good advice, now he fucks her every morning while she masturbates." Bodnar pressed Laura even closer to him. He knew neither Freddy nor his mother. But now he closed his eyes in rapture and could see it. The boy fucking his mother while she passionately masturbates.

He whispered to Laura for a long time. He had to describe in minute detail how he used to fuck the Kerzendocht and the Old Halter, twice a week. Her curiosity was stronger than her jealousy. He described everything to her truthfully, and she grimaced — how on earth could he possibly be having sex with a 70-year-old?! He demonstrated how he had sex with the two women, pulling his cock all the way out and then ramming it back inside hard. Laura felt very uncomfortable with the experiment, when they tried it. No, she didn't want that. He said he would do the same with Yvette now; didn't she want to participate? Laura nodded enthusiastically, and they whispered about it for ages. Then he went over to Yvette, and Laura crouched down on the floor by the bedside. Yvette was utterly astonished when Laura spread her labia apart with her fingers. She flinched as he rammed his dick inside her and she groaned loudly. She flinched with every thrust, but then she understood where this was going. The little electric shocks throbbed in her clit, and it wasn't unpleasant. Laura kept her pussy open, and he rammed his cock inside again and again. She felt how fast these electric shocks propelled her up the hill, at an insane speed. Her face contorted into a grin, and she orgasmed, more intensely than she had in a long time. Bodnar nudged Laura, "You can let her go!" and then they simply left Yvette lying there. Yvette watched them with wide, round eyes; it was a great demonstration, and a wonderful experience.

For Bodnar, early retirement was like a blow from a club. He lay on his bed watching television, without really watching. Yvette had come up beside him and said she was moving out, that she was moving in with Waltraud temporarily until she found an apartment. Bodnar nodded absently. Yvette said she simply couldn't bear to see him and Laura infighting anymore. Bodnar didn't take his eyes off the screen. "I can't undo anything, Yvette." She turned to leave. "I'm going to file for divorce, Saul." She hadn't called him by his first name in years, not for 15 years. Bodnar's hand slid up her legs under her skirt, then he took hold of her fingers. "Lie down next to me, Yvette, before you leave." She was completely surprised, but she lay down next to him. They treated each other gently and tenderly, just like at the beginning of their relationship. Then he took out his iPhone and showed Yvette the pictures and videos of Rosenblatt's big and small sluts. Yvette's eyes widened, she became incredibly aroused, and wondered. "Rosenblatt's?" Bodnar confirmed, yes, that was them. Yvette stayed for another hour; the nude pictures and videos had really turned her on, and she demanded a second round, then she left. For good.

Bodnar gazed at the two sluts for a long time. Rosenblatt's suggestion of borrowing the girls simply wouldn't leave his mind. Yes, maybe yes, but he wouldn't leave Laura alone with Rosenblatt for a single moment. A dinner together? Suddenly it hit Bodnar: Yvette wouldn't be there, she wouldn't cook. Maybe they'd bring some Thai food. Another thought intruded: thick, broad, and overweight. Even for Laura's sensible diet, he needed a replacement for Yvette. Yvette, who was now in Waltraud's arms. Waltraud was just as lustful as Yvette, both were bisexual, and many years ago he'd often had threesomes with them, very enjoyable ones at that, Bodnar smiled to himself. Cooking, doing the housework!? Breathlessly, he mentally ran through the address book of his flings. Yes, maybe her. Or her? No, she had a family now, a husband and children. Another one came to mind. He only thought of her because he'd had a wonderful fling with her years ago. Or — maybe her? Yes, that was her, he'd get in touch with her. She was a childless widow, sexually in the "lustful" category, and she masturbated day and night, much more often than Yvette. And she could really fuck divinely well; it had been always a pleasure with her. But she was rather clumsy at managing her life and muddled through more or less. She accepted her lovers' money, but she was anything but a skilled clandestine prostitute. Shy and ashamed, she asked her lover for money, and silently accepted whatever the gentleman wanted to give her. Yes, he could fish her out of the pond; at around 32, she could have a positive influence on Laura and at the same time be his young and compliant lover. He would phone her tomorrow at noon.

In his mind, he had been flipping through the pictures of the big and little slut, and now Rosenblatt's suggestion of a daughter swap came back into focus. Two approaches presented themselves. He and Rosenblatt could take turns visiting each other and each have a threesome with the respective daughter. Of course, he would do it with Elli at Rosenblatt's first, because only then could he be sure that Rosenblatt was truly serious about the daughter swap. Bodnar's lips twitched as he imagined himself fucking little Elli thoroughly until he couldn't anymore. Only then would he let Rosenblatt slide between Laura's thighs. He was quite certain that Laura would gladly let Rosenblatt fuck her if he, her father, agreed. Yes, she would enjoy it, without a doubt. — Or they could go straight for it, all four of them together, and take their own daughter and the other's in turn. And he would take the little slut, again and again, until he couldn't anymore. Bodnar fell asleep smiling, his cell phone between his fingers.

Weeks later, he invited Rosenblatt and Elli to dinner. He had taken it from the Thai kitchen, and they ate and drank happily. Laura drank red wine for the first time and was soon a little tipsy. They played spin the bottle until all four were naked. Laura, engulfed in Rosenblatts arms, looked over at Bodnar — was she allowed to? Bodnar nodded, and Rosenblatt lay down between Laura's thighs. He lay down between Elli's thighs, and now the joyful daughter-fucking began. Bodnar fucked Elli again and again; she was truly divine in the art of fucking. It was quite as he had imagined. Elli's pussy was much tighter than he'd expected. She didn't orgasm during sex, but after each tryst, she brazenly ended it with her middle finger and laughed cheekily and triumphantly in his face. - Rosenblatt had to change his technique because Laura didn't like being rammed in at all. But then she let Rosenblatt fuck her again and again, she cried out happily and laughed in his arms. The girls went from cock to cock. They didn't stop fucking until around midnight, all exhausted and happy. Rosenblatt grinned. "Next time at my place, Bodnar."

✨

Rosenblatt smoked silently in bed, Elli slept softly beside him, his hand resting on her bare bottom. It was beautifully shaped, round and womanly, but Rosenblatt wasn't paying attention to its beauty now. Ronald had been right all along; he had to get the pill for Elli. She was so young and stupid fearless. She hadn't even started her period yet and hadn't given pregnancy a second thought. The princess had to have her king; finally, he was hers alone. The evil queen had left after watching the king gently and with obvious pleasure deflower the princess. He had fucked his princess late into the night, making her squeal with delight as she leaped from orgasm to orgasm. The king was proud to have conquered the princess's cunt. Only then did the evil queen retreat, pouting; she had lost the whole game in one fell swoop. The slut was just furiously jealous because Dad had eyes only for his Elli ever since. He was quite happy that Elli laid with him and not the slut. There was no connection between his ejaculation and pregnancy; Elli never considered that.

Rosenblatt now had to call the slut, and the frigate came roaring across the bay under full sails. She didn't have a decent job and didn't need one; she picked up guys at the disco, and she could live very well on the money, even saving some for the future. She wasn't stupid; she avoided drugs and bad guys alike. Rosenblatt greeted her frostily; he hadn't invited her of his own free will. She accompanied Elli to the gynecologist and looked over her shoulder as the doctor examined Elli thoroughly. The slut hadn't seen Elli's cunt since she was a baby; Elli's was beautifully and femininely shaped. Elli had beautiful, full labia, a deep, dark fuckhole, small and very narrow labia minora, and a rather large clit shaped like a small boy's penis. The slut sighed, because her own clit was also shaped like a small boy's penis, complete with a small glans and a proper frenulum like the little boys she occasionally took with her for sex, because she loved to spoil little boys. (She would loiter around the schools at lunchtime and pick out a boy. At home, she would undress him and herself, grinning inwardly when the boy's penis became erect at the sight of her nakedness. Playfully, she would pull the foreskin back and forth over the glans and quietly ask him if he wouldn't like to fuck her. Most of these children had never had sex before, but now they were learning it, all afternoon long.) She couldn't help wondering if Elli masturbated as often as she did. They left the prescription at the pharmacy; Elli would now be able to get the pill completely legally. Mother and daughter didn't exchange a single word; the gulf between them was unbridgeable.

The slut simply pushed Elli aside when they went to bed that evening. "I expect compensation for my cooperation," the slut growled, lurking like a female jaguar. Elli was stunned by how roughly the slut took her father. The slut had some fancy tricks up her sleeve to get him hard again and again. Then she fucked the poor man, grinning, and let him squirt inside her, still grinning. From every angle, in every position, she collected payment for each monthly prescription individually. It wasn't until around 2 a.m. that she took off in a taxi. Elli took her father's head in her lap. "Was it worth it, just for the pill?" she asked anxiously. Rosenblatt nodded, exhausted. "Yes, Elli. I would never forgive myself for getting you pregnant. I'm only doing what's necessary, Princess." Elli caressed his head and whispered, "I would have still loved you even if you had gotten me pregnant, Dad. I'm so down that Mom so thoroughly screwed you over, so cruel and heartless as she is. You must get a divorce, Papa, otherwise she'll be a burden to you at the worst possible time. Sooner or later, Mama will run afoul of the law or a loan shark and drag you down with her. She's been doing that her whole life; you're still paying off her debts. She's still officially your wife, Papa." Rosenblatt just wanted to sleep. "Yes, Elli, yes." Finally, he fell into a deep sleep.

✨

For Rosenblatt, who loved women's bodies more than a concoction of ice cream, whipped cream, and a maraschino cherry, working in the Halters' house was a nightmare and disgusting. No, he had no problem with little Kerzendocht, because once she'd taken off her impossible housewife clothes, she was actually quite attractive. She was always clean, well-groomed and lightly perfumed, which accentuated her very feminine curves. No, he enjoyed her. He now regretted having made the suggestion to Bodnar. Upstairs, in the bedroom under the eaves, old Halter quickly undressed to lie down next to young Kerzendocht. Never had the difference between a woman's body in full bloom and an old, withered one been so obvious. Halter was very wrinkled, her breasts hung like sacks, and her sparsely gray-haired cunt was anything but attractive.

Rosenblatt had taken to waiting for the women's pause in their lovemaking, then he would ask sweet Kerzendocht to dance. It was a pleasure, for the eyes and for his manhood as well. With a heavy heart, he turned to Mrs. Halter after ejaculation. She trembled with excitement and fear. He took her with contempt and penetrated the old woman's wrinkled, dry cunt with his semi-erect penis. The penetration seemed to hurt her, but he didn't give a damn; he had to fuck her, and in front of Rachel's critical eye. Actually, it was Rachel who had urged him and Bodnar to fuck her old girlfriend too, because Rachel knew firsthand that Halter loved to fuck. In the first few days, Bodnar and Rosenblatt had only fucked Rachel, and the old woman had watched them up close with tear-filled eyes. So Rachel had asked her if she wouldn't like to be fucked too? Old Halter had nodded in surprise, without really thinking about it. That's how it all started.

The old woman turned her face away, burying it in the pillows. She knew it was about Frankie, that it was all about dishonoring her. Tears of anger and humiliation glistened in her eyes, but she didn't want to give the guy the satisfaction of crying, of letting the tears flow simply from the contradictions of her own actions. Rosenblatt fucked the old woman the same way he fucked Rachel, pulling his cock all the way out each time and ramming it back in wildly. Roxane didn't let on how painful this was for her. This was a horrible, painful fuck. The guy rammed his cock in wildly each time; she wanted to scream, but she gritted her teeth. Her thin body was shaken back and forth because the guy was obviously having a hard time coming. Rosenblatt didn't want to embarrass himself in front of Rachel and thrust into the old woman for what seemed like an eternity. At first, her cunt was bone dry, but now it was gradually becoming moist and wet, making it easier for him to fuck her.

Actually, he was completely indifferent to the old woman, but he watched her wrinkled face very closely, observing her rising arousal. It was really only the thought of Rachel watching him that made him want to give it to the old woman good and hard. She fought against having an orgasm during this long ramming and pumping, but she usually lost and orgasmed involuntarily. Rosenblatt watched her orgasms with a satisfied look. The orgasms in her old age were much gentler and very unspectacular, trembling and tense only. Yet she was very ashamed of them, and tears of shame or anger ran down her cheeks. Now he grabbed her hips and lifted her slightly, then fucked her hard and ejaculated with a grunt. His eruption felt to her as if he were shooting her, shot after shot. She stared at his face as he came, half contemptuously and half gratefully, because apart from him there was only Bodnar, who fucked her like a madman and came inside her so juicyly, the rascal! But then it was over, and he escaped into Kerzendocht's arms, who gently stroked his circumcised friend. Yes, Rachel whispered, yes — being with a circumcised man felt right to her. He rested while Roxane and Rachel comforted each other and tenderly made love. Then it started all over again, until 2 or 3 in the morning, he took turns fucking them both until he couldn't anymore.

✨

While Fatme was kidnapped, Rosa lay with Ronald. She had time to admire the peacefully dozing man during the breaks. Yes, she felt more than just sibling love for Ron, and in the most beautiful moments, a terrible thought would creep into her mind, a truly terrible one. What if Frank killed Fatme and she could stay with Ron? But she quickly banished the thought; it would be dishonest. She didn't deserve such a cheap victory. No, she was Ron's colleague and girlfriend, and she was laying with him to give his tormented self a break, to free him from the kidnapping for a few moments. Yes, she gave him everything, everything a lover would give her beloved. Yes, she knew perfectly well that she was surrendering to him because she loved him, somehow. At the same time, she knew she would return him to Fatme immediately and without hesitation should she be freed.

Rosa's fingers stole their way to her sensitive nipples, her teats, for she could arouse her pointed nipples so delicately that she had an orgasm. She had learned this from a girlfriend during puberty and had been doing it her whole life — wonderful teats orgasms. She needed only two fingers; she twisted one teat and then the other endlessly. As the heat rose in her loins, she pulled and plucked wildly at both nipples until orgasm washed over her.

Ron was a very good lover, no doubt about it; only Frank was better in bed. She got her money's worth every time with Ron, squealing as she ran up the hill, cheering and exulting in his arms during orgasming. Rosa had fucked with hundreds or been fucked by hundreds, but only two had truly impressed her. In first place was Frankie, the criminal, who had driven her wild with his enormous giant cock for weeks. And Ron came in second, because she felt something, something incredibly good and wonderful in his arms.

More clearly than ever before, she now realized how wrong and empty her frantic rushing from one adventure to the next was. What Ronald and Fatme had was right. The only right thing, the only true thing. It was time to grow up and reach for what was right. She was no longer a girl; she had matured into a woman.

✨

Johannes Wallner lay listlessly and wearily in Ludmilla's arms, his lips encircling her large, juicy nipples. Ever since they had closed the Halter case, he had felt utterly listless and tired. He knew this was his last case; he would be speaking with the Minister of the Interior and demanding his retirement. For over 50 years, he had been a police officer, body and soul. He had always given 150%, he had dedicated himself entirely to his service, he had single-mindedly worked his way up the ranks to become Chief of Police. His wife had become a stranger to him, and Ludmilla, well, she was Ludmilla. After the tempestuous beginning of their affair many years ago, she now demanded nothing of him, not even a purely sexual conquest. At first — he was barely 50 — they made love all evening long, and she let him cum inside her as often as he wanted; she had become infertile from performance-enhancing drugs and now wasn't afraid of getting pregnant.

She couldn't really resist the advances of the boys and men, because deep in her soul, she wanted to be fucked by every one of them, even though most were certainly no experts in that art. Only the athletes from the figure skating club were really good at it. There were hundreds of them over the years who had pressured her to have sex with them and fucked the reluctant woman in the afternoons shameless and enduring, because the evenings belonged only to Johannes and her.

She had never told Johannes about her escapades; she was her own mistress, absolutely. He certainly didn't need to know that she often masturbated for hours at night, indulging in the most beautiful fantasies of romping with kings, princes and super athletes. Above all, she loved the new, young faces in figure skating. Strength, muscles, and athletic acrobatics — she could get all of that from the boys. As much as she loved her affairs and quickies, the harmony and the undeniable inner closeness with Johannes — no, no one could compete with that. Of course, she had also tried lesbian love, but that was definitely not for her. Girls and women were always competitors; that had been deeply ingrained in her mind during her long years on the ice. Nevertheless, she seduced all the young ice princesses, often simply to prove who was truly in charge.

Ludmilla was very proud of her large, magnificent breasts, and Johannes loved them especially. He often lay on her chest, his lips engulfed in her thick, juicy nipples. Of course, he knew how much he could cheer her on and ignite her passion by sucking and biting them. In earlier years, he would then have sex with her immediately, or she would masturbate quickly and greedily, snuggled in his arms. Over the years, he had come to love sucking, licking, and gently biting her dark nipples while his hands caressed the Czech lowlands, even though he knew every hill, every fold, and every dimple of this magnificent landscape by heart.

Every Wednesday morning, Ludmilla went to the ice skating club and skated a few laps, just to experience the wonderful sensation. She didn't do any tricks; she calmly circled the area because hardly anyone else was around at that time. Except for the athletes, who trained every day from morning till night. They nodded to each other; the athletes knew her and who she had once been. She had fucked with each of them at least once, or many times, but she had fucked only very few of the girls, only the young ones in fact. Most of the girls knew that their partners had been fucking with her, the national champion.

Ludmilla fondly remembered how it all began. She was only 29 and had come to Vienna on a whim. The police general sized her up and showed her the apartment next door. She never doubted for a moment that he wanted her. Of course. They had cuddled for a long time, then she pulled him onto the bed. He was truly astonished at how firm and tight her cunthole was. She had whispered in his ear that only a few men had ever fucked her. The first was her father, but she only let him fuck her once a week. Later, only her trainer, who loved her very much, even though he was gay. Johannes just nodded absentmidedly; he was engrossed in fucking.

Ludmilla, who thoroughly enjoyed his thrusting, remembered how it all began. Her mother, a down-to-earth, matronly type from the countryside, was suffering because her husband couldn't get an erection anymore. Her friends advised her to use a trick. Sunday morning, Ludmilla went into her parents' bedroom and had Mom take off her pajamas. She had the little girl sit on her lap with her back to her and masturbated the child in front of her incompetent husband. His eyes lit up as he stared at his child's little cunt. His ears turned bright red as the mother gradually had the girl's mood moved upwards. Her husband got a nice hard-on, and now the mother could push the orgasming girl aside. She pulled her husband between her thighs, and now he could really fuck Mommy properly. Ludmilla initially watched the proceedings with incomprehension, but soon understood that this was part of married life and that this was how babies were made. She soon got used to the Sunday routine; she loved the orgasms her mother gave her with her finger, and then she dared to lay her face on her mother's inner thigh to see it all up close.

But after a few years, the miracle cure stopped working. Now Mom had to bring out the big guns. Sunday mornings, she spread Ludmilla's legs wide and tempted her husband. "Joschi, would you like to fuck some really young?" Dad was hesitant, but now he got hard just looking at Ludmilla's wide-open cunt. Several Sundays passed before poor Joschi finally found his voice again. "Tascha, do you really want me to fuck the little one?" His mother looked at him sternly. "Well, if you can still get him up, you can fuck the little one, yes!" Ludmilla, 13, listened breathlessly to the dialogue. Dad briefly rubbed his cock. "Look, Tasha, how stiff it is now!" Mother nodded, and Dad moved closer. Ludmilla felt the hot shaft slide along her inner thighs and reach her cunt. "It'll sting a little, love," Mom murmured, gently stroking Ludmilla's head. Mother grabbed his cock and rammed it in, hard and fast. Ludmilla didn't even flinch; her hymen tore instantly. Dad beamed. "I'm in, Natasha, I'm all the way in!" Mom grabbed him. "Come on, come fuck me!" Ludmilla was still quite numb on the one hand, but on the other hand, she missed being fucked, because Mom was now being fucked by Dad;and Mom was overjoyed.

Dad was allowed to briefly insert his cock on Sunday mornings and fuck Ludmilla for perhaps a minute before Mom grabbed him and, smiling happily, let him fuck her. Ludmilla was angry and told Mom so. Okay, said Mom, he can fuck you next Sunday and even cum inside a little bit, but then he's mine again! It was a good arrangement. Dad fucked her first and came inside, then he had to quickly go between Mom's thighs and finish her off. Okay, that worked well for quite a while.

Ludmilla knew from the beginning that her trainer was gay. He was sitting in the locker room while she undressed, and he ran one hand over naked Ludmilla's curves, over her delicate ass. Of course, she asked him if he didn't want to fuck her? He scratched his head. "Yeah, actually, sort of." She lay down on the wide bench in the middle and pulled his pants down a hand's width. She took out his cock; it was short but quite thick, just like the trainer was short and very thick. But he was a very good trainer, and Ludmilla ranked him right after Dad. He panted and gasped while he fucked her. "I don't usually fuck girls, or women. - But you're an exception, Ludmilla!" He didn't ejaculate as much as Papa, but he did, and that was okay. But he only fucked her every few weeks; he was gay, he complained.

That changed abruptly when Patek arrived, her first ice dance partner. She was in love with him from the very first moment. But, unfortunately, she was always second best. Patek, this wonderful dancer and athlete, was bisexual. And the coach fucked him every single practice day. Ludmilla sat on the bench next to them, tears welling up in her eyes, while the coach fucked her Patek in his asshole. It didn't really look any different from normal couples, she thought. She was heartbroken and stared at Patek's semi-erect penis, from which the semen slowly oozed. His semen really belonged to her, she thought, half-angry. The coach was now on cloud nine; he now fucked Ludmilla five times every week in front of Patek and then immediately afterward Patek's ass. When the coach wasn't there around she let Patek fuck her senseless. She loved this guy, but he wasn't really in love. Yes, he enjoyed fucking her, but he wasn't as in love as she was.

The coach, head over heels in love with Patek's ass, pushed his two protégés to their limits, forcing them to dance on the ice for eight to ten hours every day. They won one or two small competitions, and then the two became national champions. Ludmilla also competed the same afternoon in the singles free skate and became national champion herself. The two embraced, tears of relief and triumph flowing freely. Ludmilla and Patek had reached their peak, as Czechoslovakia didn't participate in the European Championships that years. Ludmilla and Patek, both 22, danced together for another year, then Patek went to England. Ludmilla was devastated; she had lost not only her dance partner but also her lover. They wrote to each other for a while, but it was over, irrevocably over.

In the evenings, she was at home, waiting for her Johannes. She wore only the thin, transparent veils he had given her as presents, which accentuated her naked figure so well. She was patient and never pressured him into erotic races, although she of course loved them.

✨

The Russian rooks had arrived and were now perched on the ledge outside the aquarium. Their only goal was to spend the winter in warmer Austria. There was plenty of food, and no one shot at them here. It must be Saturday or Sunday, they croaked to each other, nodding wisely, because there was no one around. On weekdays, yes, there was activity, bustling activity, in the aquarium and the offices.

On Saturdays and Sundays, evil could be evil undisturbed; all the evil would be dealt with on Monday.

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