11

Intentional End

Chapter 2

August 18

Saturday Evening

"Bobby, Gleason, thanks for coming," Jimmy Deakins said, shaking Bobby's hand and giving Gleason a quick hug. "Did you get something to eat?"

"Not yet, we're heading that way soon, though."

"This is lovely, Captain Deakins. What is your daughter going to do now?" Gleason asked.

"Actually, she's off to St. Louis to work for the Justice Department. We're hoping she meets a nice, young, smart lawyer and settles down. Angie and I are looking for grandchildren."

Bobby and Gleason both smiled at Deakins' pride and pleasure in his eldest daughter.

"How was Scotland? We haven't really had a chance to talk about anything since you got back," Deakins asked.

"It was wonderful," Bobby replied, pulling Gleason close.

"I was happy to show Bobby my home," Gleason beamed. The couple had returned one week ago from spending two weeks traversing the Highlands and the Orkney Islands, with the bulk of the time in a remote cottage on North Ronaldsay. For ten days, Bobby and Gleason lived in a tiny, peat-heated cottage making love, walking the beaches, bird watching, and reading, sleeping and just being together. They grew together as one.

"When do you head back to Northwestern?" Deakins asked.

"I'll return Wednesday and Bobby will join me Friday evening for the weekend. Then we're back to our routine of every other weekend."

"I don't know how you two do it. I'm happy for you both, however. Listen, I see Deputy Commissioner DiEugenio over there and should go say hello," he nodded to each of them and walked away.

Bobby ran his hand up and down Gleason's arm and she snuggled close to him. "Bobby, I have to tell you something," she said, looking up at him.

He bent down and she whispered in his ear. "What?" he asked, looking at her with a furrowed brow, not sure he heard her right.

Gleason whispered again, his head shot up and he looked at her smiling face, "Are you serious?"

She nodded and beamed. Bobby's hand slid from her arm, to her back and down over her bottom. "Bobby!" she feigned shock at his touch.

He leaned down and whispered, "Why do you do this to me? You smell so good, you look ravishing and now you tell me you are completely accessible under that dress. Jesus, Gleason." He couldn't resist kissing her pulse spot.

Gleason smiled up at him. She was so happy.

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Bobby could not keep his hands off Gleason. They danced often and he exerted utter control not to embarrass himself with an erection each time. His passion rose as the time passed.

After eating a bit Bobby suddenly said, "I want to go home. Are you ready?"

"Bobby! We haven't been here but a short while; it would be rude to leave so soon. Let's be polite and stay a bit longer," she Gleason responded, leaning against his shoulder and chest and sliding her hand up his inner thigh, smiling up at him; she loved teasing him.

Bobby slid forward on the chair, leaned back and pulled the tail of the tablecloth up over his lap. "Touch me," he whispered into her ear.

Gleason pulled away from his shoulder where she rested and turned to look at him. Bobby smiled with lifted eyebrows and an imperceptible nod. She grinned, shaking her head and leaned back against him, sliding her hand once again, but all the way up this time.

A sharp inhale and long exhale indicated his want as Gleason took his already firming member in her hand. Through his trousers, she kneaded his penis and fondled his balls. A quiet moan issued beside her head.

"We shouldn't be doing this," she said softly.

"Don't stop," he replied.

Gleason continued and Bobby shifted again. He was fully erect and breathing quickly. "Bobby, you're not going to come, are you?"

"Huh uh," he breathed out.

She glanced up at him and saw that his face showed no sign of impending finality, aside from his slightly open lips. "That's enough; you're going to have to stand up at some point."

"No, don't stop! That's so good, keep going," he said into the side of her head.

Gleason stopped and sat up off him and said, "I'm going to mingle. Are you coming?" She stood, smiled down at him, extended her hand and looked at his pained expression.

"Glea-," he pleaded.

"Hey, what are you two doing back here in the corner? You're off here by yourselves, acting like a couple of newlyweds. You're not playing touchy-feely under the tablecloth, now are you?" Bill Perkins said as he wandered over.

"Detective Perkins, here, have a seat with Bobby. I'm going to the ladies room. I'll be back in a bit, Love," she said and wandered off, pulling her shawl over her shoulders.

Both men watched her walk away, admiring the sway of her hips and the swish of her skirts.

"She is a beautiful woman, Goren, one beautiful woman."

Bobby nodded and wanted nothing more than to take himself by his own hand and wank off under the tablecloth, all the while imagining himself sliding in and out of her tight little slit. Jesus.

"So, tell me about your honeymoon. Where'dya go? Whatcha do?"

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It was late when they finally got home and Gleason immediately slipped off her shoes, "Oh, these are treacherous!"

She bent to pick them up and Bobby stepped behind her, taking her hips, grinding against her. "I've wanted you all night," he said deeply.

"Well, you certainly have been attentive," she grinned, standing up and turning, "Would you pour us a glass of wine, Love?"

"Glea –, let's go to bed," he whined.

"Pour us a glass, I won't be a minute," she said and started for the bedroom.

Bobby sullenly did as she asked, removing his suit coat, hanging it over the back of a kitchen chair and nearly yanking at his top button. He finished filling the second glass when Gleason slid up behind him, running her hand up his back, taking a glass with her free hand, "Oh, thank you. This looks good," she sipped a taste. "Come, sit with me."

He followed to her the sofa, watching how his tee shirt that she wore to sleep in skimmed her bare bottom, teasing him. Bobby dropped to the sofa and set his glass on the end table, then reached for hers. Gleason tugged the hem of the shirt over her bottom, sat and Bobby folded her against him, his right arm around her shoulders. His lips went to her hair as her hand took his penis through his trousers. His eyes closed and he groaned softly, his hand tightening on her arm. "Jesus, Gleason," he murmured.

"Perhaps I should finish what I started earlier, eh?" she said softly into his neck, kissing softly and licking lightly.

Slowly, gently, she touched him, feeling his length swell and jerk. She smiled faintly at what she could do to him. "Good?" she asked. He moaned, shifted slightly and she took that as a yes.

"Oh God," he exhaled, tightening his arm around her as she stroked. She knew just what to do and she did it so well; he was rock hard in no time. "Honey . . . ," he breathed.

"Do you want me to lick you?"

"Huh uh, do that, just do that," he whispered, eyes closed. Her hand was just firm enough, light enough; she touched just the right places, in just the right ways.

"I'll suck you if you want," her voice was low, sensuous.

Bobby's head tilted back and his left hand covered hers, pressing it to grip tighter. She obliged, stoking his length as Bobby's breaths came faster.

"Let me suck you, Love," Gleason whispered next to his ear and barely licked it.

Bobby groaned and his head tilted toward her. Gleason nibbled his lobe and his hand tightened on hers, moving it, increasing the strokes. He moaned and grunted as he jerked once. "Glea – ungh, I'm, I, ungh. . ."

Her breath was hot against his ear as she whispered, "Do you want to come? Let me suck you and you come in my mouth," and she slid the tip of her tongue into his ear.

Bobby let go of her hand and scrabbled at his buckle, pulled at his button, yanked at his zipper. Gleason stretched the band of his boxers over his deep red dick and stroked its velvet length. "Fuck my mouth," she said deeply as she bent and took just the head between her lips, flicking her tongue on his tiny slit, tasting the salty drop.

His right hand went to the back of her head and gently pushed down as his hips pushed up. "Oh, fu–! Glea –!"

Gleason sucked the head hard, ran her tongue down the underside, dropped her mouth onto him and sucked the whole thing. His fingers tightened in her hair and she grinned inwardly. Her mouth surrounded his length and her juicy, hot mouth moved up and down, up and down so slowly, her tongue dragging against the underside. Bobby grunted twice and she moved her head faster – up and down, up and down; and then, with the head of his dick at the back of her mouth, her tongue continuing to rub the underside, she moaned around him.

"Aww, gaw-aw-aw-aw-d!" he growled, jerking and shooting his cum into her throat, holding her head with both hands, his hips lifting off the seat. Then his body bent forward, over her, and jerked in time with his penis. "Ungh, ungh, ungh!" he grunted as he came.

Gleason gagged, squeezed her eyes shut tight, swallowed and kept sucking. Bobby's gasping slowed and he pulled her head from his lap. "Jesus, Baby, Jesus Christ," he breathed, sucking air.

Gleason's hands flew to her mouth and she leapt from the sofa and ran to the bathroom. He heard her retch and his head dropped. Shit, he thought. Bobby stuffed his softening penis back into his boxers; he sat a minute, then stood, pulled up his trousers, and zipped, buttoned and buckled them. He started down the hallway and met her coming out of the bathroom.

"You ok?" he asked softly, bending to look into her face, his hands on her arms.

"Are you?" she asked smiling up at him.

Bobby studied her and then smiled widely, "I couldn't walk for a minute," he said, pulling her close, hugging her tight.

"So, you liked that, eh?"

"Dear God, Gleason, I had no idea that you would do that."

"Well, big boy, there's even more where that came from."

Bobby looked at this woman and had no idea who she was; but whoever she was, he loved her.

"Now, it's your turn." Gleason grinned up at him, took his hand and led him into the bedroom.

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