Sheep's Clothing

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Sheep's Clothing Page 26

by Gary Lewis


  David’s blue jeans now bulged tightly with a throbbing hardness that pressed to escape while he pushed himself between her legs, scooting her over and over against the armrest where her rocking head tilted straight back and her throat laid bare beneath his mouth.

  He felt her hands forcefully unbuttoning his jeans while he pressed his mouth against her bare throat and her breaths became louder, rising and falling with her chest where her nipples brushed against his skin. David slid his left hand up to caress her right breast. Her nipple pinched between his fingers while he kissed his way down her neck to her left nipple. In slow circles, he rubbed his tongue around it as she leaned her head and shoulders back, letting out light moans with every exhale.

  "Fuck me," she gasped between breaths. Her thin thighs were wrapped tightly around his waist, straddling him high as his face pressed its way across her bare breasts. David could feel her heals rubbing up and down the back of his thighs "Now, David." She panted his name as he quickly jerked her shorts and panties below her knees. She started freeing her legs while he stood to pull down his pants. The narrow, pink slit between her pale legs glistened with wetness as his penis stood erect in front of him, free from its confines and urging with pressure to be plunged where it belonged.

  David bent to lean over Sarah, but she sat up suddenly and shoved him onto his back at the other end of the couch. Determination filled her eyes as she climbed on top, straddling his hips. Her hand squeezed between to position his hard penis in her grip. He could feel her tilting it up as she rested her hips down. With a tight slip, he felt it slide deep into her warm, wet depths.

  Sarah leaned forward over top of him, slowly easing herself up and down while David thrusted back, pushing himself upward, deep inside of her slick, squeezing vagina until she took over. Sarah shifted her weight up and down forcefully. She moaned higher in pitch as her butt smacked down against him. Her small breasts hung to points that bounced, brushing across his bare chest and face as she continued to rock her body up and down with intensity. She raised up, tilting her closed eyes back to the ceiling with a gasping shout as David’s moans became loud and deep. He squeezed his fingers around her waist, but she grabbed his hands and slapped them onto her breasts. The couch squeaked while she slammed herself up and down on him and he continued to caress her breasts.

  She dropped her weight forward again, pushing her hands down onto the skin of his shoulders as her half-closed eyes hung over his, inches from his face. David caressed his left hand up and down the skin of her side and thigh while he rubbed and squeezed her nipples with his left. Sarah went up and down forcefully before shoving herself onto him as deep as it would go. “Ah!” she shouted as her back locked in an arch and eyes squeezed tightly shut. As her body jolted in his grasp, Sarah let out another shout. “Ooh!” David burst, pulsating deep inside of her and her body melted limp over top of him.

  She slowly settled the side of her face onto his chest as he rubbed his arms along her sides, bringing them to wrap around her back. He slid his hand up her naked shoulder blades and pushed her bright blonde hair upward to his face where he took a deep breath through its golden strands while he stared at the ceiling, still caressing her back.

  Chapter 18

  As darkness consumed the skies of Pine Bluff, a thick fog slipped into the streets from the outskirts of town. It belched out from between the ancient, massive oaks and the jutting peaks of juvenile conifers, guardians of a world that existed outside the boundaries of civilization since long before Pine Bluff. Officer Benning's headlights did little but illuminate the white mist ahead of him as he sped down the empty backroads surrounded by unseen forests and fields. When he approached the dented stop sign of a lonely four way stop, he merely slowed with a few glances before turning the wheel and squealing out a right turn. Normally he would obey the traffic laws he enforced, but this was anything but the average call that it seemed. It was a lead.

  Benning quickly clutched his radio. "Ten-four. Turning on Brown Street and Elm. En route to noise disturbance." After a couple steep, snaking curves along the cracked and crumbling asphalt, he slowed his police cruiser to a gentle roll before parking in the street and staring up a long gravel drive. "Here it is," he said to himself. 2155 Birch Tree Street. It was the address of William Giovanni, father of Tony Giovanni, one among several recently missing.

  "Inform any evidence of animal immediately," the radio blared through garbled static. Benning's face grew hot. They want to get the feds involved. "They'll just come in, take over and start running things here," he said to himself as he reached over and switched off the radio. "Pine Bluff handles Pine Bluff problems." He stepped out and walked around the front of his patrol car, adjusting his belt and gripping the holster of his pistol.

  With his left hand, he lifted a black, metal flashlight, flashing a bright beam through the mist with a single click as he shined it uphill toward the trailer. He walked cautiously just off the side of the gravel, sweeping his boots through the moist grass while holding his right hand on his holster.

  A couple large shade trees stood about twenty feet apart in the front yard, casting shadows from the flashlight that concealed most of the light brown, metal, single-wide trailer. Dark windows surrounded the half visible front porch. To the right, just off the gravel driveway, sat a lone, rundown, blue pickup truck with a dull paint job that must have seen twenty years of summer drives come and go.

  The sharp sound of busting glass was followed by a slamming thud from the blacked-out trailer now less than forty yards away. It was the only sign of life since he arrived. "Pine Bluff Police Department!" Benning shouted as he began to rush uphill through the grass, nearly tripping in a few large holes in the uneven ground until finally slowing down just behind the shade tree on the right.

  Benning listened quietly as he slowly scanned the rest of the dark, lifeless front yard, eventually returning his gaze to the front door. After waiting a few moments, he drew his gun with his right hand, resting his flashlight over it with his left, as he aimed them together, sweeping back and forth while he approached the rickety boarded steps of the porch.

  "Pine Bluff Police Department! Identify yourself!" he shouted again, one step after another creaking their way up until he stood at the screen door. It hung slightly open, the warped latch probably a sign of disrepair from years of forceful slams. "No sign of forced entry at the main door," he muttered to himself as he started to reach for his portable radio before hesitating. "I'll handle this."

  He beat on the metal front door with the butt end of his flashlight. "Pine Bluff Police Department! Open up!" he shouted a couple times. No response. Officer Benning took two steps back with a deep breath and gave the front door a kick, flinging it open as he rapidly swept his light across the living room. He quickly flicked the light switch a few times to no avail. "Power cut?" he asked himself.

  His bright beam slowly moved across the sofa. Its barn and country art pattern was accentuated by the lines on the false wood wall panels. The end table held an elegant white lamp that hovered above a large glass ashtray, crammed full of cigarette butts. It seemed to match up with the slightly tan stained ceiling. To the right, a bar counter separated the kitchen from the living room. On the left, a narrow hallway was concealed by a thick red curtain that hung from above. Aside from a pile of dirty dishes, everything looked in order in the living room and kitchen.

  A heavy thump sounded from the hall that he felt in his boots. "Police! Identify yourself!" he shouted, raising his pistol to take aim at the curtain, staring very intently at it as he slowly paced forward. The thick fabric twitched just a bit, freezing him in his steps. "Identify yourself!" he repeated. His heart beat harder as he took another step, trying to visualize who or what was just behind the hanging drapery. It moved again with a large bulge that swayed across. "Hello? Is anyone there? Police!" He switched off the safety and rested his finger on the trigger as he continued closer.

  The curtain began curving and shifting around in
a slow, continuous motion. Benning's heart was now pounding as he got close enough to touch the red fabric. He poked at it with the end of his barrel, feeling for something solid standing on the other side. After several failed attempts to prod the source of the movement, a breeze blew the edge into a sway. The wind? Inside? He swept the curtain aside, revealing busted, blood-stained walls all down the hallway, leading to an opening that was once a backdoor, now ribboned with shredded metal.

  Benning quickly paced down the hallway, stepping over jagged chunks of wall ripped from the left side, revealing the two bedrooms and then the bathroom. Swaths of blood that streaked along the wall and spattered among the debris led to a deep red puddle that shined as his light casted upon it from where it pooled in front of the final bedroom at the end of the hall.

  He snatched his portable radio from the side of his belt with the same hand as his flashlight. "Officer Benning reques-" The floor burst beneath him. In an instant, his left ankle was jerked from below. As his leg was yanked underneath to the knee and the radio tumbled into the wreckage of the wall. The beam from his flashlight flew all over the darkened, destroyed trailer as he heard it bang against the floor. He screamed as loud as he could, tugging with all his might. Strong fingers clenched and pulled from deep beneath the torn linoleum flooring. Shards of metal ventilation duct sliced through his calf and splintered particle wood floor boards ripped into his knee.

  As he screamed for help and beat the floor with his hand, fighting to win the tumultuous tug of war, his fingers slapped the handle of his gun. Benning felt around the pitch-black floor, shuffling through pieces of rubble. He clenched his firearm, turned and took aim just beside his leg. The sound blasted his eardrums as Benning fired three shots into the busted floor. A loud yelp barked from below as the creature's grip released with a skin tearing scrape that tore his boot from his foot.

  Officer Benning carefully pulled his injured leg from the rugged pit of death it had endured. "Blood-stained sock and a few cuts," he mumbled with a grin. "Better call it in. Let the experts make sure that thing is dead." He laid on the floor for a moment, taking a huge breath and let his head roll to the side. Benning gazed outside through the back doorway. The woods were peaceful and quiet. With a big sigh, he blew out, deflating the fear of life and death that had finally subsided.

  Pulling himself up from the floor and twisting around, Benning focused, staring through the dark hallway toward the wrecked wall for his radio. His flashlight dimly lit the bathroom on the other side from where it laid to rest. He reached through a pile of torn paneling, loudly pushing the rubble apart as he felt around the disaster that was once a wall.

  The tumbling noise he made dragged out into a scratchy grumbling racket that froze his skin numb as he realized it came from behind. He held still in the floor, hunched over the pile of debris in front of him. It got louder and deeper, a snarling growl that he could feel crawling up the skin of his back to his neck. Through the corner of his eye, he saw his gun lying next to him on the floor. In a blink, Benning went for it. Huge teeth slammed into his shoulder, disabling him. They sank deeper with a few forceful biting clamps, splashing blood up the side of his neck and face.

  Benning struggled and groaned as he reached for his shoulder with the only arm he could move. Suddenly he was tugged to the side then back and forth with a bite force that sent sharp knives of pain from his shoulder through his chest and spine. The powerful jaws that squeezed the feeling from his entire body jerked him up from the floor. Benning tried to scream as he was bashed through the remaining wall into the bathroom. The jagged, torn paneling ripped through his neck, spraying blood across the bottom of the mirror. A momentary glimpse of a large, dark wolf like figure stood, reflected in the mirror as Benning's legs went limp and he tumbled into the floor. The dim light from his flashlight went dark and a puddle of warm liquid soaked around him until he sunk into its depths and all became nothing.

  #Vance#

  As the hours passed, sirens broke through the dark, quiet countryside, heard clearly from the old recreation center where Vance waited patiently in his truck. "It's time," he said, cranking his engine into a roar before throwing it into gear and spinning a cloud of dust behind. "Should have known it was you all along," he said, turning a hard right as he gunned it back toward his place.

  From the passenger seat, his phone began to ring. Terry's name showed above eleven missed calls. Vance tossed it into the floor board, turning his attention to the faintly painted, broken yellow lines zipping by on the narrow road ahead as he squeezed the steering wheel tighter, flexing his massive forearm, veins bulging with anticipation.

  The densely wooded properties broke apart into sparsely treed fields as the chicken houses came into view, brightly lit in the center of the midnight fields. Vance let his foot off the pedal as he cruised past and the first row of rusted trailers with decaying, weathered porches lined up beside the road. He turned slowly down the rugged clay and dirt that was probably populated with a thick layer of gravel long ago.

  His dad's truck sat parked beside the red Mustang. Things looked like usual until Vance noticed, beyond the bright porchlight reflection of the glass screen door, that the front door was wide open. Normally it wouldn't catch his attention, but tonight it was definitely out of the ordinary.

  Vance pulled a three-point turn, backing up within fifteen feet of the porch. With a light click of the driver door handle, he cautiously eased the door open with a quiet squeak before striding over to pop the Mustang's trunk. Snatching out a hefty, dark duffel bag, he crept carefully to the back of his pickup and pulled heavy duty paracord from the bag.

  "Should be plenty," he said, crouching in the darkness behind his truck. Vance tied the cord over and over around his tow hitch, finishing it with a tight pull that strained him to the face. He slung a giant loop of remaining line across the damp dirt just in front of the porch and waited. Only the late-night sound of bugs along with the rumble of his still running engine permeated the air that hung with a dense haze, making the most distant trailers invisible from where he stood. Never mind the forests that stretched beyond.

  After a couple minutes, Vance's patience had reached its limit. He squatted down, raising up with a large, broken chunk of concrete. With a heave, he hurled the tiny boulder into the screen door, loudly shattering its glass window. "Come out, you fuckin' pussy!" he shouted loud enough to rouse the entire mobile home park. His eyes strained to peer into the dark room through the busted glass door from his place beside the truck. "This is why I've always been better than you!" he yelled deeply from the bottom of his chest.

  Furniture slammed across the living room beyond the narrow doorway. A mountain of dark fur bolted into view, pausing just short of stepping out into the light. Vance jumped into the cab, throwing the duffel bag in the seat and threw his truck into gear. His rearview mirror reflected a pounce as the beast cracked through the warped wooden porch rail with ease. He stomped the gas, spinning red dirt downhill. With a sudden zip, the creature was jerked in the lasso Vance dragged behind. He felt the thump of resistance yank tight as he accelerated toward the road. "Snagged ya!"

  Vance's engine growled with fury as his carnivorous cargo howled a constant scream, tearing uphill through the muddy gravel. He jerked a hard right onto the pavement, tilting the truck on two wheels. The creature was flung in a wide turn that smashed into a chain link fence. Vance punched it through the tangle with torque and the metal ripped loose, throwing silvery shards along the street. Vance's truck dragged the beast, wrapped in metal fencing along the asphalt drive.

  Every porchlight came to life as Vance turned the heavy metal rock all the way up and they roared down the street, spraying sparks behind while the creature screamed out barks of distress along the way.

  As he neared the chicken houses, Vance slammed his brakes. The squealing rubber burned its way to a sudden halt. His truck bed banged with force when the beast's momentum crashed it against the back of his cab, shattering his r
ear window into the seat. "Hang on!" Vance grinned. "We're in for one hell of a ride."

  A ferocious growl erupted with hatred from behind and Vance's engine began to purr once more. With a sharp off-road turn, he hit the gas, sending them tumbling down the hill. It was everything he could do just to keep driving on track as they bounced at every bump. Reaching his arm around back of the seat, Vance glanced back for a second to see the creature sliding along the truck bed, clawing, struggling and climbing to stand.

  The brightly lit tan and white walls of a chicken house grew closer and Vance clenched his eyes shut while he held the pedal to the metal. The impact pounded him like a ram butting into his chest. Sand smacked his face from his cracked windshield as his truck beat its way through equipment and bouncing birds.

  After an eternity of dozing through feathered footballs and hellish hurdles, the truck puttered to a halt. Vance coughed out the stinging smell of chicken waste that burned his sinuses as he climbed out of the wreckage, duffel bag in hand. He slung it over his shoulder as he looked through raining feathers that floated around the destroyed building.

  A dark figure began to slowly rise a short distance behind the truck. Its long ears stood high above a mane of tufted fur. Vance watched as it started violently shaking its head into a series of rampaging sneezes. It raised its menacing yellow eyes to match Vance's stare as it stumbled slowly toward him, stopping to sneeze again.

  "Perfect," Vance said before retrieving his flashlight from the bag and banging it against the metal panel of his wreckage. "Over here!" he shouted and turned to jog away. He dodged injured hens as he continued to the other side of the building.

 

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