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From Dawn To Lust
CHAPTER ONEOn the eleventh ring a man's arm began to travel in slow motion toward the nightstand. Trying to guess the location of the phone, the hand paused in mid-air, then lowered slowly as the fingers closed. The receiver was stuck."Umm," said the phone, just after the thirteenth ring.The hand tugged again."Ummmm!" said the phone, louder this time."What the fuck," mumbled a low, scratchy voice."Again? Later. I'm sleepy," said a higher voice nearby.A scowling face poked out from under the covers. Dexter Brun never woke up in the best of moods."I didn't ask you if you wanted to fuck," he said, annoyed. "I have never asked a woman if she wanted to fuck. If anybody asks, it's the woman.""Okay, okay. I believe you. Don't get nasty. But for chrissakes, stop pulling on my boob and answer the phone."Dexter grunted and reached for the phone. "Hello.""Oooooooooo," squealed a nursery-rhyme voice. Tin sure I don't have to ask if I woke you up, Mr. Brun.""No, you don't, Sharleen. You always wake me up. Sharleen, did anyone ever tell you that that silly noise you make sounds like a big fat sow getting fucked?""Oooooooooo, Mr. Brun! Don't be nasty. I'm sorry to call, but I thought you might've forgotten about your appointment.""No, I didn't forget Tell him m be there in an hour.""An hour!" squealed Sharleen. "You were supposed to be here two hours ago. I can't tell him that! He's been ranting and-""Sharleen," Dexter cut her off firmly."Yes?" Sharleen answered meekly."Oink."Dexter hung up the phone, silencing an "Oooooooooo" in mid-squeal. He rolled over toward Lisa and put his arm over her."You shouldn't say things like that to that girl," Lisa said."Still awake?" he asked."What else could I be with that thing of yours poking me in the back like that?" Lisa asked, smiling."Funny," said Dexter, "but I can never remember waking up when it wasn't just like that""I can't remember when it was any other way, morning, noon or night," said Lisa."That's because it's always at attention when you're around.""Hmmm," said Lisa, turning her face toward him and smiling."Want to give it a little practice drill?" asked Dexter, feeling his private part starting to throb.Lisa giggled and closed her eyes.He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the cheek and at the same time put his hand on her throat and began moving it slowly down her body, his fingertips, palm and forearm just barely touching the skin. Lisa had this unbelievable skin. It was so tight and smooth it felt almost as glossy as an eggshell And it was the same color and just as cool. But the beautiful hills and valleys this skin stretched over like a satin lawn were anything but hard and cold.Lisa's body had more than its fair share of unexpected curves. But the best thing about her body was that it kept its high and low places even when she was lying flat on her back. Lots of women looked good standing up, but when they lay down everything sort of ran together. like ice cream melting in a plate. Lisa's mounds of ice cream stayed frozen. Even when she was getting hot inside.Like she was right now.Dexter let his hand gently caress the dip between her two breasts. He looked at her pink nipples. They were hardly noticeable at first, just pink points on the tops of those white cones. A little strawberry sauce on the vanilla ice cream. Then, as he moved his hand faster and heavier, Lisa's nipples started rising and getting hard. He leaned his head over to taste that sundae. His tongue darted out of his mouth and started working gently on the breast nearest him."Unnnh!" moaned Lisa, beginning to twist and turn a little against the stone prick pressed to her thigh."Dexter moved his tongue faster on the hard nipple and pinched the other one with his fingers. Lisa started to twist and turn more noticeably. Her breathing was getting heavy and her stomach began to twitch in little spasms of anticipation.Dexter slid his hand down to her navel, still nibbling gently on her nipple with his teeth and licking with his tongue as fast and hard as it would go. When his hand reached the firm, flat curve of her belly, Lisa moaned again and twisted faster under the pressure of his hand, waiting for the moment when it would reach the crossroads.Dexter felt the beginning of her fine, flossy bush and toyed a little with the hairs, rubbing them between his fingers. When she started moaning over and over, he let his fingers slide those few remaining vital inches through the forest to the clearing. It was hot to the touch, much hotter than the skin he'd been touching up till now. And it was beginning to get wet He slid his middle finger up and down the length of the slit and it gradually got looser and looser.By now Lisa was carrying on like an epileptic, moaning and writhing violently as if in great pain. Dexter's finger pushed slowly but firmly into the hungry hole, all the way in until the knuckles of his hand were pressed firmly against the soft flesh, buried in her glistening wet pubic hair.Then, with his finger all the way in, he began to wiggle h, slowly at first then faster, all the while making bigger and bigger circles. Lisa was shaking like a vibrating machine. He slipped another finger in and continued the massage. After a few seconds he forced in a third finger and then began to twist his hand back and forth at the wrist all three fingers buried deep inside the warm, wet silk of her inner walls."My God! What are you waiting for!" gasped Lisa, barely able to get the words outDexter slid his fingers out of her gently, at the same time giving one final lick of the tongue to the hot berries atop her breasts. In one big motion he threw the covers over the foot of the bed, pushed her thighs apart with his wet hand and rose to his knees. Then he leaned over her and moved so that he was kneeling with his knees between hers. He took her slender wrists firmly in his hands and pushed her arms up above her head on the pillow and held them pinned there.He looked down at her for a few seconds. The incredible face with its squinting eyes and wide open mouth, the tongue sliding back and forth along her lower teeth. The waist-length, coal-black hair spread wildly over the pillow: The slender neck with the veins standing out slightly on each side. The pointed breasts with their erect nipples now bright red. The smooth, curving belly disappearing under the black bush, moisture glistening on the hairs. The widespread thighs, knees turned outward.And in the center of it all, the pink, protruding lips, twitching as if trying to reach for the huge, grayish-purple head of his poised, pulsating prick.He leaned forward slowly, until he could feel the hot lips with the tip of his cock. Then he raised his hips so that his rod was pointing below the opening of her twat and then leaned forward again so that the top of his shaft was pressed lengthwise against her slit. He moved up and down this way for a few seconds, then he pulled back again and arched his back so that he was pointing toward her stomach. He could see that the top of his prick was shining with moisture from base to tip, the veins standing out and pulsating in tempo with the rapid pounding of his heartbeat in his ears. Then he leaned forward, pressing the bottom of his cock against her slippery slot and moved back and forth slowly, greasing the dry side of his tool.They were both breathing heavily and he saw that Lisa's twisting lips were trying to form words."My God! Hurry, hurry, hurreeeeeeee!" they managed to squeeze outDexter pulled back for the last time, and then came close again. When he could feel the heavy head of himself at her hot, slick opening, he leaned forward and started licking her widely parted lips with his tongue."Please, please, please, please, PLEASE!! " she begged. As he began to push into her, he slid his tongue deeper into her mouth, changing the words into moans.He felt the delicious, unbelievable warmth of her cunt swallowing his cock, and he was afraid for a minute that he might shoot right then and there.But he didn't He kept pushing deeper and deeper and deeper into her, while forcing her tongue back into her mouth with his. Now he was all the way in.All the way in.Suddenly she started twisting and turning under him like a wildcat Her mouth was sucking on his tongue so hard he thought she might suck it right out of his mouth and swallow it And her cunt was doing the same thing to his prick. It felt like a hot hand in a buttered silk glove was squeezing, pulling, milking his cock, thirsty for the thick cream.He still held her arms pinned tightly above her head, Lisa struggling against his weight, arching her back upward toward him, rubbing her hard nipples against his heaving chest. He started moving his hips in circles, grinding his rod deeper and deeper into her, while she ground in the opposite direction, meeting each of his pushes with one of her own.Suddenly he jerked away, pulling his prick all the way out of her except for the very tip."Oh, oh, oh, now, now, now, NOW!" she gasped, a hoarse whisper all that would come out of her throatHe dropped his full weight hard and heavy onto her twisting body, ramming his slick, hot rod even deeper into her."Ahhhhhh!" screamed Lisa, his tongue at the back of her throat. He pulled back and charged again and again and again. He felt her tits against his chest, her tight stomach against his, and he felt deep down inside himself that delicious itch starting to build. The itch kept building, getting stronger and stronger, almost unbearable now, as he tried to scratch it against the soft, melting, warm, slippery walls of her pussy.She was pushing hard and fast against him with the same rhythm and motion, and he could tell by the way her eyes were turned up under the eyelids that she was close.And so was he. The two of them started groaning louder and louder, their mouths full of saliva and tongue. He felt like his whole straining body was going to explode into every corner of the room. His buttocks started to twitch violently as he pounded into her. Now. Now. NOW.With the hardest, deepest possible plunges into her yawning chasm, he knew that the time had come. Suddenly her twat squeezed his cock so hard it almost forced it out But he pushed even harder into the syrupy depths. She squeezed again and again with her cunt while trying to swallow his tongue with her throat.He started shooting into her with huge long squirts. She was hot and thirsty for his cream, and he was pouring it into her. Deep into her wet warm pussy. He felt like he was forcing all of his guts through his itching prick into her sucking cuntThey grunted and groaned while her squeezes alternated with his squirts, until both weakened and finally died away.Dexter and Lisa lay motionless now, breathing like racers at the finish line. After a few moments, Dexter slowly withdrew and lay on his back next to Lisa. They lay there staring at the ceiling, each thinking separate thoughts, their brows wet with the sweat of heavy physical labor."Good morning," Dexter said, turning to Lisa and smiling."Good morning yourself," Lisa grinned back at him. "Want me to put some coffee on?""No," said Dexter, "I don't have time. Maybe m grab something at Chock Full o' Nuts on the way to work.""Wish you didn't have to go. I wish I didn't have to go either. Fd like to lie here all day with you. Fuck the world and all its crazy people.""What do you have to do today?" asked Dexter, sitting up on the edge of the bed and lighting a cigarette he'd taken from the nightstand. He coughed after the first drag."God, I wish you wouldn't light up first thing in the morning," said Lisa. "I have to be at the rehearsal studio at one. I'll be there most of the afternoon, and then I'm dancing tonight""Sounds like dinner's out" Dexter said matter-of-factly."I'm afraid so tonight, darling. I can meet you after the performance, if you're not tied up," she suggested."Maybe so. I'll ring you at the studio if I can make it.""Okay," said Lisa.They both got out of bed and began getting ready, taking turns in the bathroom and the clothes closet. Ten minutes later they were all dressed and ready. That was another thing Dexter liked about Lisa. She was always ready by the time he was, sometimes even before. He hated waiting for women, and it never happened to him more than once with the same woman.The clock in the building lobby said noon. When they stepped out onto Central Park West the September sun felt warm and pleasant. Edward, the doorman, stepped into the street and began whistling for a cab."Can I drop you by your place?" Dexter asked Lisa."No, thanks," she said, "I'll walk over to O'Neal's and grao a bite to eat and then go right over to the Center. Talk to you later?""Maybe. Soon, anyway," said Dexter, and pecked her on the cheek. He watched her as she walked toward the corner. That Lisa was a girl with real class. Sexy but cool. like the way she walked. She wasn't giving anything away to the guys on the street but she sure displayed her merchandise. He saw two men turn and look at her as she passed them, and he smiled with satisfaction. "Real, real soon," he said to himself."Taxi, Mr. Brun," said Edward.Dexter stepped into the cab and handed him the coins in his pocket The driver had such an ugly look on his face that Dexter suspected he was one of those cops who drive cabs.After giving the address and sitting back in the seat Dexter grimaced at the thought of facing the red face and grating voice of Griddle as soon as he got to work.But it was a windy day, and on windy days, Dexter could never be really bored or bothered by anything. He fixed his eyes on the sidewalks he was riding by and watched the skirts being lifted and whisked about by the wind. Every little breeze was Dexter's pal.Dexter Brun hated cops. He hated their bloody guts.He'd hated them ever since he was a kid, when his old man died of a "heart attack" during "routine questioning" at Brooklyn Police headquarters for a crime that he didn't even know about let alone commitThe police doctor had said that the body had suffered "severe bruises" as a result of falling during the heart attack. The coffin had been kept closed at the funeral, no one in the surviving family any too clear about who had given those instructions to the undertaker. His mother had been too dazed at the time to know what the hell was going on.Dexter Brun had a suspicious mind, even when he was a kid. And because of his suspicious mind, he'd grown up with the unproved but certain belief that his old man had died at that Brooklyn station after getting the shit beaten out of him by the cops.Even now, twenty years later, every time he looked at a cop, he had a picture in his mind of beating the shit out of the bastard. He hated cops.And cops hated Dexter Brun.Not that he'd ever given them any real reason to, not anything they could put their finger on.It was just that he was superior to them and they seemed to recognize this fact, resented it and picked on him when he was a youngster growing up and going to public school.Dexter was one of those unfortunate beings who are "frisk-prone": if he was just walking home at night from a late movie minding his own business he would as-likely as not get stopped by a patrol car and asked a few questions, if not outright searched or bullied.But they never could find any reason to do more than that to him. They'd just get a little riled up and lay a little shit on him and then send him on his way.Dexter resented this treatment very much but even though he unwittingly projected his superiority without so much as giving a single attitude or insinuation, he nevertheless sought to avoid any further hassle and strictly followed two rules in these early dealings with the police. Probably this pattern of response to the tiresome and obnoxious intrusions into his privacy was responsible for his never having been taken to a station house, let alone arrested or booked with anything.The first of these rules was never act like you're smarter than a cop, even if you obviously are. like Dexter was.But he tried not to show it. It showed itself enough.The other rule was never answer a question with more than one word: yes, no, myabe, uh,...Two rules.Sometimes he suspected that cops hated him for another reason. If he felt that every cop shared the guilt in killing his old man, maybe every cop felt guilty around Dexter. Even though they didn't know his life story, they still might feel guilty around him, Dexter often thought. People picked up on things in weird ways sometimes.People are funny.Life's funny too.Why would Dexter Brun, at the age of twenty-seven, be a detective for the Manhattan police, if life weren't funny?It wasn't that he'd always wanted to be a cop, not the way children say they want to be something when they grow up (like a fireman or a sailor or something). When Dexter was a little boy and people asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up he'd always peered steadily into their eyes and replied, "I'm going"-not "I want""I'm going to be a detective." Dexter didn't know why he wanted to be a detective any more than he knew why he liked to work crossword puzzles (he never threw one away until every square had been filled in) or why he liked to know the answer to every question (the few times he'd missed questions on tests or exams at school were not when he hadn't known the answers but when the questions themselves had been ambiguously phrased). He'd never felt he wanted to be a detective, he'd just always known, deep down inside, that he was going to be one. And now he had been a detective for five years.And he still hated cops. He'd hated them for picking on him when he was young, he'd hated them all through the police academy, he'd hated them in detective school, and he hated them now when he had to deal with them in his workAnd they still hated him. And they hated him for more reasons than guilt or mutual feelings.They hated him because he made more money than any other detective on the force under fifty. Without payoffs.They hated him because he'd cracked more cases than any six of them put together.They hated him because he was always assigned to the juiciest, meatiest cases.And to top it all off, it was common knowledge among the entire force that Dexter Brun got more from his investigations than facts.A lot more.As long as the investigations involved women, anyway.Detective Dexter Brun fucked more pussy during any given workday than all his fellow detectives got in a three-week paid vacation. Dexter didn't discuss the personal parts of his investigations with either his superiors or his equals on the force, but every one of them found out about them anyway.And for this reason, above all others, the cops hated Dexter Brun even more than he hated them.Feelings ran high in the station house whenever Dexter Brun was either mentioned or presentCHAPTER TWOThe station house was almost deserted when he got there. Everybody gone to lunch, he guessed. That was one good thing, anyway. The less he saw of his associates, the better, as far as Dexter was concerned.The first thing that hit his ears when he pushed open the swinging door to the big room outside Griddle's office was the relieved screech of Sharleen."Oooooooooo! Am I ever glad to see you! Chief Geegee's been on the verge of a stroke ever since nine o'clock. He had lunch brought into his office because he wouldn't go out before you got here."He looked in the direction of the voice, but all he saw was Dexter Brun staring back at himself. Across the room where Sharleen's desk should have been was a floor-to-ceiling mirror.Her squeaking kept going. "You'd better have a good story for making him wait over three hours. I tried-""Please, Sharleen. Not so loud. For one thing, it's early in the day. For another, I don't want Griddle to know I'm here yet," Dexter said, walking toward the talking mirror. "What the hell is this mirror doing here? Another of Griddle's brainstorms?"Sharleen stepped out from behind. "Yeah," she said. "He said I distract the men when he calls them in here to talk to them. Can you imagine that?" she asked, indignantDexter could very easily imagine that What Sharleen's looks did for the eye more than made up for what her voice did to the ear. She stood there, all bumps and curves. like a mountain road. like a stack of grapefruit under a napkin. Only this stack had been arranged with loving care.Sharleen was by no means fat. Maybe she was just slightly on the chubby side, but chubby in the right places, and that was okay when you come off like Sharleen did. She always looked a little confused and helpless, like one of those wide-eyed girls in tight sweaters going in and out of the revolving doors of Midtown secretarial schools. Today she had on one of those bright-colored summer dresses that look like a boy's T-shirt when it's on a hanger.Round was the word to describe Sharleen. Her face, her eyes, her mouth were all round. And so was her gorgeous little ass. From behind, Sharleen's buttocks looked like two cantaloupes suspended in a cloth bag. When she walked they rubbed together and moved as if they weren't connected. She had the kind of ass that you could really grab hold of, but you'd have to squeeze a little with your fingers to dig in. Round and solid.Her thighs curved around from her hips and formed a perfect sunken triangle with the round curve of her belly on top. Sharleen had a way of keeping her legs together whether she was sitting or standing that was more than distracting. A sheet of paper between Sharleen's knees wouldn't slip to the floor. This made her curvy torso even curvier. And when she was excited and talking, which was nearly always, she had a way of twisting and turning her body every which way while she kept those little knees squeezed tightly together. A man always had the urge to reach out with his hands and spread Sharleen's thighs far apart, reversing the direction of her tantalizing triangle so that the point was at the top, where her crotch was, instead of at the bottom where her knees touched.She had a small waist, and just above that was her crowning glory. Or glories, one might say. Sharleen was the proud owner of an incredible pair of breasts. A really rare set of tits. Sharleen's tits alone would put her well above average on the scale of desirable women. Even when Sharleen faced the other way, you were aware that she had a pair of big guns aimed in the other direction.Dexter Brun had an eye like a Polaroid camera where women or crime details were concerned. In ten seconds he could frame, focus, record, develop, and file away what he saw in front of him.But Sharleen's body deserved more than one sizing up, and it was always the one pleasure in coming to see Griddle that Dexter had to look forward to. Apparently no one had ever told her that you used more than one finger to type, but Sharleen had other desk skills that many a corporation exec would look for in a secretary."It's a two-way mirror," said Sharleen. "Come back here and I'll show you what I mean."The two of them stepped around the mirror to behind Sharleen's desk. Sure enough. Sharleen could see anybody in the room, but nobody could see her. "Selfish son-of-a-bitch, that Griddle," Dexter thought, "to deprive a man of a sight like Sharleen.""What's the Chief so hot about?" he asked her."Ooooo, I don't know, Mr. Brun. He got a phone call late yesterday afternoon, and he's been excited ever since. That's when he had me call you to tell you to come in this morning. Something's hit the fan, that's all I know," said Sharleen as she sat down in her chair.Dexter looked straight down at Sharleen's bulging breasts. He had never figured out how he could see so much tit without a nipple showing. Sharleen always wore low-necked dresses, and no one complained about it. She had more volume in the top half of her tits than any four women he knew put together. Because she was still upset about Griddle, her pink mounds were heaving up and down. He thought of the big balls of cotton candy at Coney Island that you could stuff into your mouth all at once and feel them melt into sugar syrup and run down your throat,. Where the two breasts squeezed together to form a deep crevice, he could see tiny drops of sweat standing out on her smooth skin."Why, Sharleen, you're sweating," said Dexter."Ooooo, I know, it's so hot in here," said Sharleen, taking a kleenex from a box on top of her desk and dabbing at her forehead with it Her voice had the sound of a little girl who wanted to please you but didn't really know what you wanted."Here, let me," said Dexter, taking the kleenex from her hand."Now, Mr. Brun," Sharleen said with a little smile on her round mouth. "Be good and go in and see Chief Gee-gee.""You always miss these little drops down here," saidDexter, dropping the kleenex and touching the crack between her breasts lightly with his fingertips."Ooooo," said Sharleen, "do I?"Dexter's fingers slowly disappeared from sight as they sank into the warm dividing line between the pink, smooth globes. He felt a sudden twitch in his crotch as the soft warmth surrounded and pressed against his fingers."Oooooooooo," said Sharleen, uncertainty and pleasure mixing in her voice."Mmmmmm," said Dexter, leaning toward her slightly parted lips."TAKE YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF THAT GIRL'S TITS AND GET YOUR ASS INTO MY OFFICE!" barked the intercom on the desk at earsplitting volume."Ooooooooooooooooo!" shrieked Sharleen like a squad car siren, jumping straight up out of her chair before giving Dexter a chance to step back or remove his hand from its fleshy glove. His whole arm was inside her dress now and his fingertips could feel the beginning of her bush.The door to the Chiefs office was kicked open from the inside and slammed against the water cooler behind it There stood Chief George Griddle, bald on the head, red in the face, and pot in the belly. What he saw before him didn't lessen the temper he was in one bitWith a long "Oooooooooo," Sharleen began to cry. She just stood there with Dexter's arm inside her dress pressed against her stomach and let the tears roll down her round cheeks."Well, well, if it isn't the fucking Siamese twins," snarled Chief Griddle. "What are you going to say this time, Brun? Got your usual sassy remark right on the tip of your tongue?"Dexter loathed Griddle and he always saw to it that the Chief never got the best of him under any circumstances. And that included the particular circumstances he was in right now. He stood there with his arm in Sharleen's dress glaring at Griddle as if the Chief were a peeping Tom he'd caught looking into his bedroom window at nightDexter didn't say anything. He continued to glare at the Chief while he coolly reached into his. pocket with his free hand and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. After putting them on Sharleen's desk, he pulled a cigarette out of the pack, picked up the lighter and calmly lit the cigarette. Sharleen was still standing there sobbing.Griddle looked like he might have a stroke. His mouth opened, but he couldn't think of anything to say. He stood there glaring at them, huffing and puffing like a locomotive going uphill.