Kittycat

Anderson sighed tiredly, and pulled over to the pavement. Leaning across her, he reached out and opened the passenger door. "You wanna get out?" His arm rested along the back of her seat, long fingers lightly touching her left shoulder. She glanced out of the open door. She had no idea where she was, but the area looked distinctly dodgy. As if sensing her thoughts, Anderson said, "If you want, I take you back to Scotland Yard, drop you there. You want that?"

Catherine closed her eyes, her mind in turmoil. The hand along the back of her seat had now moved, the hand actually holding her shoulder, kneading it lightly. He had leaned his face close to hers, and she could feel his breath lightly ruffling her hair. She pulled the passenger door closed. Swallowing, and trying to keep the tremor out of her voice, she said quietly, "Just take me wherever it is we're going."

They drove on in tense silence for maybe another fifteen minutes until the car swung into what looked like quite a pleasant residential terrace. Anderson killed the engine and, without looking at her, said, "This is it. You comin' in?" Not waiting for an answer, he got out of the car and walked through a small white wooden gate, pulling a set of keys from his pocket. Catherine couldn't have explained why she followed him, but she did. Somewhere deep down she knew that if she had any sense she'd be running in the opposite direction, snatching her mobile 'phone out of her bag and calling for help.

They climbed a narrow flight of stairs and Anderson swung open the door of a flat. It was a studio, with a large lounge area, a bed at the back on a sort of raised platform, separated from the lounge by a wooden balustrade. Anderson took her coat and nodded towards a white leather couch; unquestioningly, Catherine sat on it. He strolled towards a kitchen area, and asked if she wanted a drink. Gazing around her at the room, she weakly replied, "A gin would be nice, with tonic if you have it." The room was quite tastefully decorated, with cream-coloured walls, subtle uplighting and a big plasma TV in one corner, with an expensive looking stereo unit standing next to it.

Anderson sank onto the couch beside Catherine -- right beside her, his eyes boring into her. She nervously sipped the drink he handed her. It was a neat gin, and the sharp taste sparkled on her tongue. She became aware that Anderson was leaning close to her again, his arm along the back of the couch, just above her shoulders. Speaking softly, seductively, he said, "Ya see, what it is, white police lady. I got this sixth sense for people. I can tell how they feelin', I mean deep inside themselves. And you hurtin', hurtin' real bad, I see that last night." She gasped as his fingers began to lightly stroke her neck. "An' I tell why you hurtin' too. An' that why we here. But then you know that, don't you?"

Catherine shuddered as she felt his hand rest momentarily on her knee, then begin to slide slowly under her skirt, up her thigh. "You wan' it real bad, I see that last night. They other Babylon" -- rasta slang for the police -- "not there las' night, I think you'd have gone down on your knees and sucked me right there and then." His hand was tugging at the waistband of Catherine's pants, his fingers beginning to slip beneath it. God, this was all happening so fast! The fingers of his other hand were now stroking her ear. Oh Jesus, she couldn't let him do this to her, she couldn't let it happen, she really couldn't...

She groaned shamelessly as the man stroked a finger along her slit, then pressed it inside her. Whispering seductively into her ear, his tongue occasionally flicking out to lick it, he murmured, "How long it been? Too long, that obvious. An' you such a sexy, beautiful, desirable, white lady." Catherine knew she was quite incapable of stopping him. He now had two fingers in her vagina, slowly stirring around inside her, while his other hand was unbuttoning her blouse. She let her head fall onto the back of the couch, her mind telling her to flee but her body telling her it was on the verge of ecstasy. She felt her bra cup pulled down, and as Sonny began to suck on her breast she dropped the empty gin glass and placed a hand on his head, taking a couple of his dreadlocks between her fingers.

Still sucking her, his tongue flicking her nipple, Sonny reached out and took her other hand, placing it on his groin. His manhood felt massive. No longer capable of controlling her actions, Catherine sought out his fly and unzipped it. A moment later her hand closed around that cock she'd first seen less than 24 hours earlier. The heat of it burned her hand. It was so thick, so long, and so very hard. Sonny chuckled around her tit. Removing his mouth for a moment, he murmured, "You name Catherine, innit? I gonna call you Kittycat -- and I gonna make you purr like a pussycat." She groaned with abandon as he started seriously fucking her with his fingers, and sucked her entire breast into his mouth, running his tongue all around it. His voice muffled by her tit, he asked, "You wan' my big black prick up your little white pussy, Kittycat?"

Catherine was surprised at the huskiness of her own voice as she said, "Yes. Yes, I do."

Sonny chuckled again, a deep rumble. Raising his head to her eye level, he said, "Okay, you can have it. But first, I want it in your mouth. I want that suck I fancied last night." She was already so debased that, without a moment's hesitation, she began inclining her head towards his groin. But he stopped her. "Uh uh, not yet. First I wanna see you naked, police lady." Catherine watched dazed as he slid her blouse off her shoulders and down her arms. A moment later his strong arms reached around her and unclipped her bra, removing that. He pushed her to stand and she stood. He reached out and unzipped her skirt and it fell to the floor. Finally, he reached out his hands and slid her tights and pants down her legs together. Almost by reflex, she stepped out of them and her shoes. Catherine stood unselfconsciously naked as Sonny slowly ran his eyes from her face to her breasts to her pubes, then back again, licking his lips. "Nice," he murmured.

Then he grasped her hips and pushed her quite roughly onto her knees. Unhesitatingly, as if she was hypnotised by it, Catherine reached out a manicured hand and wrapped it around Sonny's dick again, gazing at it almost as if she'd never seen one before. God, it really was massive; so were his balls. His pubes grew in little black clumps, as wiry as a scouring pad. Catherine leaned into him, hesitated for a second, then closed her mouth over him. She heard him sigh as she passed her tongue slowly around the tip of his cock. She wasn't very experienced at this, but it wasn't very difficult to work out the sort of things she should do. As she ran her lips up and down his slick cock she started pumping the base of it with her hand, and cupped his balls with her other hand, gently squeezing them. He groaned and she felt him grip her hair at the back of her head. It didn't take long: after a couple of minutes she felt his dick twitch in her mouth, then a stream of sperm slapped against the back of her throat. Not knowing what else to do, she swallowed.

Sonny quickly stripped, pulled her quite gently to her feet and led her to the bed, pressing her down on it. Then sitting on the edge, he reached into a drawer, and pulled out what was clearly a spliff. Casually he lit it, drew on it, then passed it to Catherine. She stammered "No, I don't, I've never..."

Sonny pressed it firmly to her lips, and said, "Go on Kittycat, it reeeaal good." Reluctantly she parted her lips and accepted the cigarette, inhaling deeply. She immediately felt light-headed, and a warm glow seemed to spread through her. She could feel her entire body relaxing. Sonny loomed over her, leaning up on one elbow, and grinned. "Good, yah?" He took it back from her and took another deep drag on it himself, then placed it on an ashtray beside the bed. Turning back to her, he stroked her hair gently, then whispered, "And now, Kittycat, I'm gonna give you that fuck I promised you."

Unable to help herself, Catherine realised she was giggling like a schoolgirl. Sonny knelt between her legs, then raised them and placed her calves on his shoulders. She howled with fits of laughter at that. He shuffled into position, and she felt a pressure as he pushed his big prick against her slit. Then, with a surge, he was inside her. God, she had never felt so completely filled in her entire life. He started to fuck her slowly, talking to her as he did it. "Yeah, that good innit baby, so big, so hard, an' you need it so bad. I gonna fuck your pain away Kittycat." She began breathing in time with his thrusts, giggling between strokes. Grinning into her face, he began to speed up, thrusting hard and deep into her, making her cunt feel stretched almost beyond capacity. As he began to ram his cock home really hard and fast, his balls slapping against her, she screamed; her hips rose to meet his thrusts, and suddenly she felt her pussy catch fire, a fierce warmth which spread through her.

Afterwards, she lay with her head on her chest, her hand stroking its stubbly hair, while he smoked the rest of his spliff. Unceremoniously he stood and told her, "Get dressed, I take you home." Feeling as if her limbs weighted a ton Catherine pulled on her skirt and blouse, stuffing her underwear in the pocket of her coat. As they were about to leave, Sonny gave her folded piece of paper. "You tell your boys to check this place out Kittycat, maybe around ten one night."

On the drive back she reflected that she might have expected to feel embarrassed, even ashamed, by what had happened. In fact, she just felt completely relaxed, and more sexually sated than ever before. It was just after two a.m. when Sonny pulled up. She'd told him to drop her in Victoria Street, not wanting him to see where she lived. Before she could move to get out of the car he leaned over and mashed his lips to hers, his tongue thrusting deep into her mouth. She felt one hand inside her blouse, grasping a tit, while the other slipped up her skirt and big strong fingers wrapped around her naked pussy. Breaking the kiss, and slowly removing his hands, Sonny gave her one of those grins of his. "I see you again Kittycat. You go have a nice sleep now."

In the morning Catherine felt quite hung over at work. Surely one lungful of cannabis couldn't have that powerful an effect? Of course, the gin, the lack of sleep and hardly having eaten for the past 24 hours couldn't have helped. She went down to the canteen and ordered a fried breakfast, but her stomach rebelled at the prospect. She could only nibble at the fried bread and a bit of the bacon. When she reflected on what she'd done, she was appalled. Never mind the danger she'd out herself in, or the fact that she'd committed adultery -- not that that bothered her too much, not after Peter's betrayal -- the man she'd done it with was a criminal, she was in no doubt about that. Okay, he'd rogered her stupid, and she'd really needed it; but she couldn't possibly allow him anywhere near her again. Jesus, they hadn't even used protection. Never mind any nasty little diseases he might be carrying, the thought of getting pregnant horrified her, no matter how unlikely it was at her age. She told Joanne that if Mr Anderson called again he was not to be put through on any account.

She found it impossible to concentrate on her work through the day, and just after an unsatisfying salad lunch she decided she needed some air. She went for a walk in nearby St James's Park, watching tourists feed the ravenous ducks. Even there she couldn't relax. She found she was glancing over her shoulder every two minutes, half expecting to see Anderson following her. When she got back to the office, she remembered the piece of paper he'd given her. There was just an address typed on it -- so no chance of identifying handwriting. She didn't imagine there was anything in it, but moodily she 'phoned the local nick anyway and passed the details on to them. Then she sat and doodled on her pad for a couple of hours in lieu of actually doing any work, and walked back to her empty home. Peter wouldn't be back from Birmingham until Friday evening, and he'd head straight for their house in Sussex. At that time she'd be out busting Russian pimps.

She had just made herself a coffee and changed into an old set of grey sweats when the front doorbell rang. She peered through the fisheye lens set into the door -- and saw Sonny Anderson grinning at her. Catherine fell back against the wall in shock. How did he even know her address? Oh God, she had to get rid of him. Sliding her safety chain onto the door she opened it half an inch and demanded, "What do you want?"

He grinned at her and breathed garlic fumes onto her. "You know what I want Kittycat. Now take that chain off and let me in. You don't want all your nice rich neighbours to see me, do you?" The last thing Catherine wanted to do was let this man into her home. But, as if they belonged to someone else, her hands reached out and removed the chain. Immediately Anderson pushed the door wide and strolled past her into her lounge. As he did, he answered the biggest question tumbling through her mind. "I know where you live 'cos I had a quick look at your address book last night." Oh shit, what other confidential addresses were in there?

Anderson dropped onto her couch, his long legs stretched lazily before him. Catherine tried to assert herself, standing over him with her hands on her hips. "What the fuck do you think you're doing here? Suppose my husband had been here?"

Anderson looked completely calm. "Well, he obviously ain't. And as for what I'm doin' here -- I gonna lick every inch of your body Kittycat." He sat upright on the couch, reached his hands out towards her sweatpants and began to draw them down her legs.

Catherine lay naked on the bed, propped up on her elbows, watching her black lover walk confidently towards her, his huge cock swaying before him. He lay on top of her and gently pressed her back into the mattress. Then, he attached his mouth to her neck, kissing and biting. He licked her armpits, a first for Catherine, and one she found surprisingly erotic; he feasted on her breasts, and reamed her navel with his tongue. Catherine could feel her thighs rising from the bed with a will of their own, spreading for him. As he licked and nibbled her, he teased other parts of her body with his hands: stroking and squeezing her tits, tracing a finger along her slit, trailing his fingertips like feathers across her skin.

Just as she was sure he was about to dip his head between her legs he moved to the bottom of her bed, and began to kiss and suck her toes. At first Catherine groaned with frustration, but everything he did just felt so good. As he licked her instep his fingers tickled lightly across her calves, and she felt her stomach begin to churn with lust. His tongue followed his hands up her legs; across her calves; to the backs of her knees, s sensitive spot; onto her thighs. Soon he was licking and kissing her inner thighs as her hips raised themselves towards him, so close, so very close...

Catherine erupted in a sigh which quickly turned into a moan as Sonny finally applied his tongue to her aching snatch, licking its entire length, then thrusting deep inside her. Oh Jesus, his tongue felt as long as his cock as he licked deep into her, then ran it from bottom to top inside her, flicking the tip across her clitoris. Catherine found herself groaning words to him, something she'd never done with Peter. "Oh yes, eat me, eat me, gooood you big fucker, suck my cunt into your mouth then fuck me till I scream for mercy." As he pleasured her with his mouth, his fingers dug deep into her buttocks, the nails raking at her flesh.

He ran his tongue right to the bottom of her pussy, and further, across her perineum and to her bum. Lifting her buttocks off the bed he actually ran that sweet, warm tongue right up her arse crack, pushing it deep into her. The feeling was so intense Catherine could hardly breathe. Then he was back at her cunt, his mouth locked to her clit while his fingers stroked round and round her labia, then thrust deep into her. Catherine writhed in pleasure beneath him. She could feel herself becoming hotter and hotter, her hips twitching off the bed, until finally her orgasm broke and, wailing with release, her juices flooded onto his face.

He carried on licking her right through it, then moved up to her face, pressing his tongue deep into her mouth as his big prick entered her cunt. His face was sticky against hers, and she could taste her own love juice on his tongue as he thrust it down her throat. She struggled for breath as the tongue filled her mouth and Sonny's powerful thrusts lifted her pussy off the bed, over and over. She felt herself coming again, screaming into his mouth, and as she did he shot into her with a gasp.

Even then he wasn't finished. He pulled out, flipped her onto her stomach, and entered her cunt again from behind, lifting her into a semi-kneeling position. His huge monster was now hitting different spots inside her, and Catherine's moans became one long growl of ecstasy. As he fucked her, with one hand he groped a tit, with the other he thrust a finger deep into her bum and worked it around inside her. A third shattering orgasm hit her and she felt all her energy drain away. The only thing keeping her hips off the bed was Sonny as he continued to fuck her. Finally he finished, and Catherine collapsed onto her bed like a rag doll.

He spent the night, and they fucked -- she couldn't think of what they did as making love -- what -- two? Three times more? She wasn't sure. She had sucked him off too, slurping his big cock like a particularly sweet lollipop. Feeling completely at ease, she lay on the bed, her sticky thighs wide apart, as she watched him dress early the following morning. Not looking at her, he said, "You check out that address I gave you?"

Catherine had to think for a moment to remember what he meant. "Oh, er, I passed it to the local force. Why, what's there?"

Sonny just gave her an enigmatic smile and, as he walked out of the bedroom, he murmured, "'Bye Kittycat, I give you a ring." When Catherine got to her office there was a message on her desk. The address Sonny had supplied had been raided and tens of thousands of pounds worth of drugs had been recovered, together with three Yardie gangsters the local cops had been trying to get something on for a while.

Catherine knew how wrong it was, knew she had to break away, but she just couldn't. She was completely in thrall to Sonny. He controlled everything about their relationship. Sometimes she wouldn't see him or hear from him for days. Other times his car would be parked on her route home from work, and the passenger door would just open as she approached. Occasionally, when Peter wasn't around, they went back to her place. More often Sonny took her to his apartment in South London, fucked her, then delivered her home. On one occasion he'd even screwed her dressed in her uniform, roughly, from behind. Once he insisted she stay the entire night, even though he knew damn well Peter was at their flat. She'd had to make up a pretty lame excuse, not that Peter had cared. Very occasionally, they did it in his car. He'd drive to a deserted car park and either she'd give him a blow job or he'd lay the passenger seat flat and screw her on it. Just once, he'd insisted that she suck him off while he parked on a crowded street, a car blanket covering her. And she'd done it. She'd actually done it!

In return he gave her occasional titbits of information. More drugs were recovered, even a cache of guns on one occasion, a particularly vicious human trafficking and forced prostitution ring was broken up, and plenty of bad guys -- no doubt Sonny's business rivals -- were arrested. Other officers began to whisper in wonderment about the guv'nor's new supergrass, and she kept her silence, trying not to think about how Sonny knew so much about these people's activities. Catherine had many sleepless nights fretting over her situation. It wasn't as if she loved him; she didn't even like him, despised what he was, but every time he touched her -- even when he just looked at her -- she was immediately on fire for him. She had never felt so remotely sexually satisfied in her entire life. But she was dying inside. She had to get out of this situation, permanently. She just didn't know how to, and wasn't sure if she had the strength to do so.