A Boston Cop and a Homeless Woman

# # #

Just then, the four men walked by the window and peered inside. Spotting us sitting at the table, not wanting an altercation in the diner, I stood to stop them from entering. Seeing them in the bright light of the day instead of the darkness of the alley, something that a typical detective would do, looking from one to the other, I took a moment to memorize all of their faces. If they started anything, I'd put a full description of them over my police radio.

Making sure they saw me, I stood and turned to face them while staring out the window. I pulled out my gold, police badge from inside my shirt and, proudly displayed it. With the shield hanging from around my neck, I pushed back my jacket to display my holstered gun. Susan grabbed a knife from the table and tightly held it in her hand.

"There's no need for that," I said taking the knife from her hand. "Don't worry. Trust me. I'll handle this," I said putting my hand on her hand and removing the knife from her hand.

I met them outside on the sidewalk and as soon as they saw my police badge and my holstered gun, perhaps fearing that I'd arrest them, they ran.

# # #

We ate our breakfast and talked as if we were old friends. We talked about everything and laughed over nothing. She knew more about me than anyone had known about me before, and I knew that she was more than just a pretty face with an incredible body. My kind of woman, she had a sharp brain in her head, too.

Making an instant connection, while wondering where she had been all my life, as if we were both in love at first sight, we hit it off immediately. As soon as we finished our meal, I invited her back to my place. I gave her a towel, an extra toothbrush, soap, a hand towel, and showed her where the bathroom was. Twenty-minutes later, clean and glowing, with her hair washed, blown dried, and in place, and with her wearing makeup, she emerged looking like a new person.

"My God. You're so beautiful," I said unable to control myself and blurting it out without thinking.

She smiled.

"Thank you," she said. "You're not so bad yourself," she said with a sexy laugh.

I grabbed my jacket that hid my holstered gun. Never leaving home without my gun, over the years of working undercover, I had made plenty of enemies who wanted me dead. Whether arresting them for crimes they had committed, beating them when they attacked me, or shooting them, when they pulled a gun, I was always careful when out and about.

"Are you ready to go shopping for clothes and whatever else you need. There's a CVS along the way. We can stop there first for you to buy whatever you need," I said.

She nodded.

"Yes. Thank you," she said. "As soon as I use the lady's room, we can go."

She stood, smiled, and gave me a hug.

"I can't believe how nice you are to me. It's been a long while since anyone has been nice to me," she said. "Normally, when people see me on the street, they hurry by me only pausing to put a coin in my empty coffee cup."

# # #

With my insisted, encouragement, she spent nearly, a thousand-dollars on new clothes, pants, sweaters, spring jacket, fall jacket, winter coat, shoes, boots, hat, gloves, and a scarf, and another one-hundred-dollars at CVS. She had nothing and needed everything. With me living like a hermit and seldom spending any money, I could well afford to buy her whatever she needed and wanted.

If she stayed with me, I'd even buy her a car. I loved seeing the look of happiness on her face. Clearly, no doubt, it had been a long time since she had been happy. And, with me finally finding the love of my life, it had been a long time since I had been happy, too.

Yet, making me feel as if I was her man, something as innocuously simple as that, it was all worth it when she took my arm. With that small, affectionate gesture of possessiveness, I imagined us walking down that aisle together after being married. Then, when she took my hand, she made me feel that I belonged to her and that she belonged to me. With her doing good for my soul and for my psyche, I haven't felt that way about someone in years.

Unaccustomed going shopping, it felt as if we had been shopping for hours when we were only gone from the house for two-hours. She dumped the contents of the bags on the kitchen table and took her time showing me all that she bought. I couldn't help but feel that I had known her for years. I had this overwhelming sensation to kiss her. Yet, not want to frighten her, I controlled my manly, sexual urges until she, hopefully, made the first move. After nearly being gang raped, not wanting to force her, she needed to make the first move.

Wishing that she'd model the clothes that she bought, I'd love to watch her strip down to her bra and panties. I'd love to hold her and kiss her while touching and feeling her everywhere through her underwear. She had such a beautiful body that I wished she bought a bikini bathing suit to model. Something that I'd never see except when she was stripped naked against her will, but wished that I could, I'd love to see her topless. I'd love to see her naked.

So shapely and so sexy, I wondered what it would feel like to have sex with her. Feeling horny now, I'd love to touch her and feel her through her clothes while making out with her. I'd love to strip her naked and touch and feel her naked body everywhere. I'd love to make love to her. I'd love to fuck her. I'd love to eat her pussy while masturbating her and have her stroke my cock while sucking my cock.

"Thank you for the clothes," she said surprising me with a body-to-body hug when she wrapped her arm around my neck, pulled me close, and kissed me.

She kissed me. I couldn't believe that she kissed me. After nearly being gang raped, any other woman would never kiss a man until they had years of psychological therapy, especially a man that they had just met. Yet, she wasn't like most women. Even though she was feminine on the outside, she was tough on the inside. A beautiful flower on the outside, she was a prickly cactus on the inside.

I returned her kiss with my kiss but with her making the first, sexual moves, she surprised me again when she parted my lips with her tongue. If it wasn't enough that she kissed me, she French kissed me. Susan French kissed me. I couldn't believe it.

Not wanting to prematurely rush things, afraid to touch her, I didn't want her to think that I was like all of the other men in her life. Standing frozen in place, even though I wanted to touch and feel her everywhere while making out with her, I kept my horny hands by my sides and to myself. Nonetheless, not having had sex for a while, she immediately gave me an erection. Horny now, I wished I could strip her naked and have sex with her. No doubt, she could feel my hard erection pressing against her soft tummy.

# # #

"It's late and I'm tired," she said yawning.

I yawned, too. Normally, I stay up late watching TV while cleaning my guns. Not tonight. Tonight, I couldn't wait to go to bed to dream about seeing her nearly naked and having sex with her.

"You take my bed and I'll take the cot," I said. "I don't mind sleeping on a cot. I slept on a cot for 12-years while I was in the SEALs. I'm used to sleeping on a cot," I said nodding my head up and down. "A cot was better than sleeping in a jungle or on bug infested sand," I said with a laugh.

I remembered all of the huge, creepy crawlers that walked all over me in the dark as I slept. Some of the spiders and scorpions were so big that I needed a gun to kill them. Boston was no different. Depending where you lived, Boston was infested with big, black cockroaches, mice, and rats.

When I offered her my bed and offered to sleep on the cot, she made a face as if I had insulted her. Assuredly, I wasn't trying to insult her, I was just trying to be nice. Honestly, I'd love for her to sleep in my bed but with me in it, too.

"Don't be silly," she said with an endearing, little laugh. "You're much bigger than me. You'd be more comfortable in your own bed. Accustomed to sleeping on a hard sidewalk, in a doorway, on a cardboard box, or in a bedbug infested bed at the shelter, I'll take the cot," she said with a sad, little laugh. "I don't mind. Really, I don't."

# # #

That night, too emotionally charged and sexually excited to sleep, with her just behind my bedroom wall, all that I could think of was Susan sleeping in the next room. Sexually exciting if she was, I wondered if she was thinking of me in the way that I was thinking of her. I wondered if she was masturbating herself over me in the way that I was masturbating myself over the thoughts of her topless and naked.

I wondered what she wore to bed. I wondered if she slept topless. I wondered if she slept naked. I wondered if she was wearing one of the sexy nightgowns that she bought today. I wondered if she was expecting me to make a sexual move on her and sexually seduce her.

Making myself horny now, I wrapped my hand around my half, erect cock and slowly stroked myself to a hard erection while thinking of her pretty face, her natural, blonde hair, and her big, blue eyes. I thought about her naked breasts and her erect nipples that I saw when her potential rapists lifted her bra up and over her huge, natural breasts. The best, naked breasts I had ever seen, at least a D cup, she had such shapely tits. Her breasts reminded me of Jenny McCarthy's big and shapely, naked, D cup breasts.

I thought about her shapely, naked ass and her bushy, blonde, naked pussy, when they pulled down her pants and her panties. I'd love to tap that. A real beauty, when other men see her, without even seeing her topless or naked, no wonder why men want to make out with her while touching and feeling her everywhere through her clothes. No wonder why men want to make love to her. No wonder why men want to fuck her. No wonder why men want to hump her mouth and fuck her face because I wished that I could do all of those things and more.

I wondered what it would feel like to sleep with her. I wondered what it would feel like to kiss her, French kiss her. I wondered what it would feel like to make out with her while touching and feeling her everywhere through her clothes. I wondered what it would feel like to strip her naked slowly and sexily while touching and feeling her naked body everywhere. I wondered what it would feel like to finger her pussy while licking her pussy and reaching up to fondle her big breasts and pull, turn, and twist her erect nipples.

I wondered what it would feel like for her to stroke my cock while sucking my cock. With a gentle hand behind her blonde, pretty head, I'd love to cum in her mouth. I'd love to see her staring up at me while swallowing my cum. Then, as soon as she released the pressure of her lips from my erect prick, I'd love to cum all over her face and across her naked breasts. Decorating her everywhere with gobs of cum, I'd love to give her a cum bath.

I wondered what it would feel like to make slow and sweet love to her while kissing her. I wonder what it would feel like to fuck her fast enough and hard enough to give her a sexual orgasm with my cock. I'd love to cum in her pussy. I'd love to make her pregnant. I'd love to give her my baby. I'd love to give her multiple orgasms with my fingers, my tongue, and my cock. Never have I seen a woman as beautiful, as sexy, and as shapely as her.

# # #

Then, as if a bolt of lightning illuminated my memory, I remembered who she was. She said that she wrote erotica but that didn't make a connection with me. Had she said that she wrote stories for Literotica, I would have immediately remembered her. As if she was writing about her life, I remembered reading her story, Bag Lady & the Retired Marine. I remembered reading two other of her stories about a homeless woman, Collecting Cans & Bottles Topless, and another story about Collecting Bottles, Cans & Friends.

I remembered reading and masturbating over some of her other stories. I remembered reading Mom Strips Naked for Nude Day, Sex for Money Rent & Food, Susan's Saturday Night Sex, and Young Woman with Older Man. I couldn't believe, just like the way that she was in her stories, Susan Jill Parker was homeless. I couldn't believe that I had met the author of some of my hottest, sexual stories. Now, I couldn't wait to roleplay some of her stories with her.

I went to bed thinking about her stories and imagining making love to her. I imagine kissing her while slowly sliding my cock inside of her. Gently humping her, I imagined making slow and sweet love to her. Then, I imagined fucking her fast enough and hard enough to give her a sexual orgasm with my cock.

I imagined rubbing her clit while licking her pussy. I imagined finger fucking her cunt. I imagined giving her multiple, sexual orgasms with my fingers, my tongue, and my cock. I imagined what she sounded like and looked like when having a sexual orgasm. Nevertheless, I wondered what she sounded like and looked like when cumming.

'Michael. Oh, Michael. Don't stop. You're going to make me cum,' I imagined her saying when I was masturbating her pussy while licking her cunt.

I imagined her stroking my cock while sucking my prick. I imagined her staring up at me and smiling with my erect, naked cock stretching her lips and filling her mouth with all of me. I imagined cumming in her beautiful mouth. Then, as soon as she pulled my prick from her mouth, I imagined ejaculating a second load of cum all over her beautiful face and across her big, naked breasts. As if I owned her naked body, I imagined giving her a cum bath.

Then, when I looked up and in the dimness of my bedroom nightlight, Susan was standing in my bedroom doorway. As if she was Kelly Preston in her white, satin nightgown with Arnold Schwarzenegger in Twins, she was a vision of loveliness. Never expecting her to be there watching, as if dreaming it, imagining it, or sexually fantasizing it, I saw her standing in the doorway of my bedroom watching me touching myself, fondling myself, and slowly stroking myself.

Accustomed to sleeping with my bedroom door open, while wondering how long she had been there watching me, she had been watching me stroking my naked prick. I was as embarrassed as I was sexually excited. Yet, with her not leaving, I was glad that she saw my naked prick. I was glad that she stayed to watch me touch myself.

If I was determined to expose myself to her, I couldn't have planned this any better. After seeing her naked breasts, her naked ass, and her naked pussy, only fair for her to have some sexy voyeur fun, I wanted her to see my naked, erect cock. Now, I wanted her to watch me masturbate myself. I wanted her to watch me cum.

# # #

She was wearing her short, sheer, low-cut, and sexy, white, satin nightgown that she bought today. Never expecting to see her wearing that nightgown for me, thrilled that she was modeling it, I was sexually excited to see her wearing it now. What I couldn't see of her beautiful body through her nightgown, I could imagine the rest. Her nightgown accentuated the God given curves of her shapely and sexy body.

Making my cock pulsate and throb, not turning away, she continued staring at my naked prick. It sexually excited me that someone who looked like her was sexually interested in someone who looked like me. Not that I was a bad looking man but having taken too many blows to the face, I'm no male model. On a scale of one to ten, she's an eleven and I'm a seven, at best.

Yet, unsure why that is, but beautiful women routinely marry average looking men. Paulina Porizkova married Ric Ocasek of the Cars. Christie Brinkley married Billie Joel. Even though he was 25-years older than her, Katherine Zeta Jones married Michael Douglas.

Heidi Klum married Seal and Beyonce married Jay Z. Beth Ostrosky, a rare beauty married Howard Stern. Shapely and sexy Shannon Tweed married Gene Simmons. Gorgeous Rachel Hunter married average looking Rod Stewart, and sexy and busty Christina Hendricks married average looking Geoffrey Arend. Clearly looks don't matter to women as much as they matter to men.

"Are you awake," she asked while knowing that I was? Moving closer to me, she took a few steps in my bedroom?

Making me horny, she continued staring at my erect, naked prick as if she had never seen an erect, naked prick before.

"Yes, I'm awaked," I said.

While still staring at my cock, she smiled up at me while giving me a sexy look and a naughty smile before looking back down to stare at my naked prick.

"I wanted to thank you for all that you did for me today," she said ignoring the fact that I was nakedly exposed. "Making me feel safe and making me feel wanted, no one has ever shown me such courage and kindness."

Too sexually excited to be ashamed and/or embarrassed, I removed my hand from my naked prick for her to see my erect cock. Making no attempt to cover my erection, I deliberately exposed myself to her. With her staring at my stiff dick as if she had never seen a naked cock before, I deliberately throbbed and pulsated my prick. Clearly, she wanted to see my naked cock as much as I wanted to show her my naked dick.

"You're welcome," I said.

She continued staring down at my naked body and at my exposed, naked, erect prick before looking up at me with another sexy smile and naughty look. I couldn't believe she was staring at my naked cock in the way that I stared at her naked breasts, her naked pussy, and her naked ass earlier that day. Hard for me to believe that she would, I wondered if she sexually wanted me as much as I sexually wanted her. This wasn't just any woman, this was the world famous, Susan Jill Parker, the premier erotic writer on Literotica.

# # #

Then, she asked me a question that I'd never say no.

"May I sleep with you," she asked while playing with her hair with one hand and fingering her erect nipple through her nightgown with her other hand? "It's been a long while since I've been with a man," she said sliding a slow tongue across her red, full lips while staring at my throbbing and pulsating prick.

As if I was dreaming this, I couldn't believe it. Susan asked if she could sleep with me. She said it's been a long time since she's been with a man. She hasn't removed her eyes from my exposed, naked, erect cock. She wanted to sleep with me. She wanted me. She wanted to have sex with me. She looked at my naked prick as if she wanted to suck my naked prick. I can't believe it.

'Afraid to ask her the question for fear that she'd reject me, does she just want to sleep or does she mean that she wanted to have sex with me, too,' I thought while wondering? Needing to know so that I didn't pressure her and/or force her to give me sex, I asked the question anyway.

"Do you mean that you just want to sleep beside me or that you want me to give you sex," I asked?

She looked at me while sliding a slow tongue across her red, full lips again.

"Sure. Of course. Sex is always on the table," she said with a sexy laugh and giving me another naughty look. "Before I was homeless, it's been a long while since I had sex. I want sex as much as you want sex," she said with a sexy, little laugh. "With you lying in bed playing with yourself, I imagine that you're just as horny as I am," she said with another laugh.

# # #

I patted the bed beside me and moved over to make room for her. I pulled the covers back and climbed beneath them. Surprising me, yet again, before getting into bed, she removed the nightgown straps from her shoulders and allowed her nightgown to slowly slide down the length of her shapely body to her feet. She was naked, totally naked. I couldn't believe she was exposing her naked breasts and all of her naked body to me. I couldn't believe that I was seeing Susan Jill Parker naked.

Shocking me as much as she sexually excited me, never expecting to see as much of her naked body, I couldn't believe she was naked. Susan, the woman of my recent sexual dreams and erotic, sexual fantasies was naked, completely naked. Unembarrassed and unashamed, with me controlling myself from turning on the light, she stood before me without wearing any clothes. Susan showed me her big, naked breasts, her blonde, trimmed, naked pussy, and when she turned, her shapely, naked ass.