She heard him activate his shoulder mike, "9L Lincoln to Dispatch. Officer needs assistance. I have an armed subject at my location." 9L Lincoln 10-4,... the metallic voice of the dispatcher answered. "All units, Officer needs assistance. Highway 143 by mile marker 38 southbound."Pat heard another voice, a deep baritone audible even over the radio, "Dispatch, 9L, this is 9C Charles. I am enroute and will be there in 5."Pat could hear the distant wail of a siren as the officer behind her. He had no money, having been robbed, beaten and left for dead by a band of robbers outside of Bologna. He was able to barter for a meal and some stale beer by offering to clean the stables behind the inn. He had done a mediocre job on the stables, throwing fresh straw over old. His poor performance made the warm beer even more stale in his mouth.Although he appeared young, it had been many, many years since he’d had a purpose, a sense of pride – of self-worth, rather. ‘Pride is one of the sins. "Not as much as I wanted to see what was inside that sweater. But that would come later. I hoped.She left The room, and I began to strip. By The time I was down to my briefs she was back, with an armful of what she'd called "the stuff." There were ropes, and straps, and chains, and handcuffs, and some other stuff I didn't have a chance to look at before she was on her knees in front of me."Let's see what this bulge is all about," she said. And started to haul down my briefs. My prick was alive. She eased her way towards me, unzipping her plain black skirt as she moved. Such delicious tits, swinging and bouncing gently, as I fixed my attention on her erect dark nipples. They stood out, beckoning me to stroke them, and tease them. Finally, she stood before me, black knickers gripping her lovely thighs, as she slowly slid them down her legs. When they had fallen to her feet, Jen touched her neatly groomed pussy, opening the engorged lips to show the wet hole she intended to share with.