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No memory of being used for his pleasure.

I don't think he made a lot of sense, either, about then. His legs trembled, and his breath came in gasps.

Blam! He beat me. His jizz spurted out over his desk--made me a little proud, really, I fucked him into a climax--but the very idea pushed me over the edge, and I bred the police chief like another of my harem. I wondered what he told his wife when he got home smelling of semen.

Anyway, when he finally calmed down enough to tell me his problem, it turned out he had a new cop, an Officer Laidley Small, who, if he was telling the truth, was a male god. He gave me the address of Small's radar trap that day, so I went home, coated my driver's license with Catuaba-oil, pulled on my gloves, and took off.

-==(^)==-

When I went roaring past the black & white police cruiser parked off the road under some trees, he pulled out after me as expected. When I pulled over and looked in the mirror--damn!--the police chief's description was completely true; the cop was so titanic he blocked out the sun.

Damn, a fucking monster! Huge! Like Superman! Damn, even to the black hair and a curl over his forehead! And a build like a--he was right!--a male god! Not an ounce of fat, strong sinews stood out in his arms--damn, and also his neck! His blue uniform shirt stretched tight over him, and it was probably an XXL. His badge jutted out at the tip of a big--and I mean big--pectoral muscle.

"Can I see your license and registration, please?" He stuck out a paw the size of a pizza platter.

Staring straight forward, trying not to look suspicious, I held up the card in my gloved hand, and he snatched it away. Damn, he's so big, I wonder if it will have enough effect!

I watched in the mirror as he went back to the squad car and got in. Now, if it works on him, he'll soon be falling out of the car trying to jack off.

Nope. In the mirror I saw him get out of his cruiser and come walking back to my car. Oh, shit. Still in control of himself. Is he fighting it but still able to walk? Maybe his huge size needed a little more oil.

He bent down to my window. His eyes look blank enough, though, like he's drunk. He didn't say anything. Could he be under the influence, after all? I risked: "You wanna suck my cock?"

He looked astonished.

Oh, shit, what have I done?

Then he astonished me: "Are you serious? Pull it out!"

Oh, shit, he's not acting like all the rest. I gulped. Might as well roll with it and see what happens. I pulled open my zipper and brought out the Jungle Monster. It was hard and virile. It didn't know (or care) what was going on outside.

He pulled open my car door and dropped to his hands and knees--he was such a tall fucker, he had to get down low to be on the level of my cock. Hands under the car, he bent his head down and glommed onto my phallus like it was a water fountain at the end of Death Valley.

What a sight. Probably the biggest man I'd ever seen in my life was on his mighty hands and knees, bobbing his head up and down on my pole like he'd won the lottery. Pro technique, too. Deep-throated me with every lunge. And contented murmurs: "Mmmm, mmmm, mmmmm."

The cop-breaking routine didn't feature my cumming down his throat--my technique had been to seal the deal by fucking the guy bent over my car, so I cleared my throat. "Ahem! I've got a better place to dump my load. Get up, I'm going to fuck you!"

He backed off. "Yeah, oh, fuck, yeah!" He stood up and unfastened his gun belt.

He was wearing gloves.

It hit me: Ohmigod. The Catuaba didn't touch him!

But there he was, pants pulled down to his knees, leaning over my car, legs spread. "C'mon, do it! Fuck me!"

Incredible experience. He was so fucking gigantic, his legs so much longer than mine, I couldn't reach. "Get on the ground, get on the ground!" Damn, I'm growling cop language!

Instantly he dropped once more to hands and knees, and I crawled on.

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