What She Wanted

by Storm, Author

  “Oh, here you go, knocking the temporary solution to my libido issues before you get all the juicy details. And very juicy they were! Damn, girl, if they make all of them like Diesel in jail, I’m ‘bout to become a C.O. They don’t all come out on probation, you know, and I could sample all that sweet meat in-house. Trace, his ten-inch dick had my pussy on fire, and you know there’s only one way to put that shit out.”

  “Wait, did you say Diesel? Are you fucking serious? Some woman named her child Diesel, and you fucked him?” It sounded like Tracy dropped the phone on the counter. “Kym, you got me cursing in front of my babies! I’ma call you back, ‘cause you is crazy, bitch!”

  Kym wondered briefly why Tracy was so quick to get off the phone these days. She thought back to the last time they had a lengthy conversation…and it was months ago. Kym mental-noted to revisit the idea down the line, maybe there was something going on. Then again, maybe there wasn’t.

  ***

  And just like that, Kym shit, showered and shaved. Okay, minus the shaving. It was Friday night, and a bitch was feeling and looking damned good if she had to say so herself. She had on a Lafayette 148 New York Bolero dress this time and Jimmy Choo knee boots. She always represented when she stepped outside. She would never be caught unprepared out in public. Despite being a government employee, she had an image to uphold.

  Kym was on to her next victim. Fucking Diesel was something nice, and there was definitely something about him. But Rafael Serrano, aka Pretty Boy, was something else all together. Just thinking about him made her clit rise to attention. Rafael had been her first foray into the Hispanic community, but now she felt like a regular mamacita, eating rice and beans even when she wasn’t with him.

  Her mouth had dropped open when she read his case file for the first time, two years after his actual release from the penitentiary. Kym was turned on by simply reading his lists of charges. She would show him just how much he still turned her on tonight.

  Rafael Serrano was born Benicio Calixta Gamberro Jesuan in La Paz, Bolivia, in the Andes Mountains, and was in the US on an expired student visa. He had over sixty-three aliases, and nineteen social security numbers. He had ICE detainers, federal and local detainers all over the East Coast, and was high on the list for deportation. He had been in and out of over seven local and federal prisons in the past twenty-four months.

  Doing his three and a half year bid for Terroristic Threats and Witness Tampering, Pretty Boy had a helluva time keeping the homo-thugs off him upstate, and was known to have a vicious right hook. But because she had fucked enough of her probationers, she was tight with the snitches, and knew who was giving up ass, taking dicks and swallowing kids during their stay at ‘Summer Camp.’ Pretty Boy had left niggas unconscious on a regular when they brought that shit his way.

  She chirped her keychain alarm as she ran down the steps and out the door. She chirped her Brink’s alarm on, and remote started the engine on her personal vehicle, a 2007 Jaguar XF. Great Britain Jaguar of Willow Grove, Pennsylvania had promised her the first 2009 Jaguar XJ8, Radiance Metallic, with Charcoal Facial interior when it rolled off the truck from Liverpool, England. Until then, this money green beauty would do.

  Subconsciously, Kym felt for the 9mm Glock strapped to her thigh. She was going to the Bad Lands of North Philly at 10 pm, and might possibly need each of the seventeen rounds in her clip to make it out alive. Oh, the things one must do for some good dick.

  Pretty Boy Rafael Serrano, 6’4”, was caramel brown skin with grey eyes, a wide sensual mouth, curly black hair, a long, lanky muscled body, and seven short inches of dick. But what he did with his mouth and her asshole made Kym forget all about the missing length. And after he devoured her asshole, and stretched it out with his tongue and fingers, he moved on and ate his way upward. By the time the mini-dick came swinging out, she was breathless, deaf, blind and incoherent.

  ***

  Pretty Boy had undressed her with his eyes during their first meeting, and even though he wasn’t her type, Kym knew she’d give him the poonany. He kept calling her Ms. Kymber, all the while licking his lips and dipping his eyes down low. She followed him into the men’s bathroom (unauthorized), and watched him give a urine sample. She eyed his mini-tool, disappointed, but grinned despite herself when he turned around stroking it.

  “Mr. Serrano, that is…”

  “Sexy? Enticing?” Rafael licked his hand and continued to stroke. “It’s all yours mujer. Papi been down almost four years, mami. I need to put it someplace warm and tight.” He walked to her and stroked her hair. “Tell Rafa what you want, mami, and you got it. The streets been good to me since I been down. What you want, money, a car?” He looked down at his dick and smiled before he looked back up. “Nico quiere estar para arriba dentro de su gatito caliente, mojado atractivo.”

  Rafael was up in her personal space. She should have pulled her County issued Glock and let off the first two rounds, but her pussy was busy leaking. He leaned into her and beat his dick against her thigh. Kym turned and looked into his face as his dick jerked and spit at her. She jumped back as the first eggshell drop landed next to her brown stiletto and slapped her back to reality. Then the bathroom door opened. A male officer was walking in with a urine cup and another convict.

  “Rafael…” Kym stuttered and then caught herself. “Mr. Serrano, your behavior is absolutely unacceptable!” She calmly walked out and spared herself any real embarrassment.

  Kym shook her head at the thought. She should have left that crazy Rican alone after that scene. Now she was hooked. She just might let him stuff his mini seven inches in her tight asshole tonight. She could take seven measly inches, couldn’t she? She was a back-shot virgin, despite the many dicks that visited her luscious, swollen body.

  Kym quickly dialed his home number by memory, from her County issued cell phone. Rafael had an 8:00 pm curfew, so at 10:10 pm he had no reason to be anywhere other than at home in case she came through.

  “Serrano, its Officer Devers. Glad to hear you home during curfew. Did you go to work today? Did you go to your drug and alcohol class at the Wedge? Have you been arrested since the last time we spoke? Have you been contacted by anyone in authority since our last meeting? Have you violated your PFA and/or been near or within six city blocks of Vanessa Torres’ home or work?” In addition to threatening witnesses who dared snitch against his drug empire, he had been stalking a former girlfriend too. “I’m around the corner, open the front door,” she said.

  It was the same each time they conversed, either in person or via telephone. He always said no, but he was lying today. Pretty Boy had picked up new charges in Delaware County for driving without a license, fleeing a police officer, and resisting arrest. He didn’t know that she knew about his upcoming court date, and she would make him pay for it tonight.

  She always made sure she updated her notes regarding their meetings on the telephone or in person. She was, after all, his probation officer. She was the one who kept him out of jail. She was the one who told him what to do and whom he could do. She held the keys to his freedom and never let him forget it. Kym smiled at the thought.

  She pulled up into the driveway behind the row of houses on North Indiana Street in the Bad Lands, her eyes glued on his back door. She stopped behind the red and green painted house three doors down from Pretty Boy. Even though she told him to open the front door, she had no intention of going through the front door. Kym liked the element of surprise. What she didn’t like was the back door opening, and Pretty Boy throwing a petite, half dressed blond Hispanic waif out of it.

  “Nico! Por qué usted que me lanza fuera de su casa? Pensé que usted me amó! Usted dice que usted me ama, papi! Por favor, el papá, me dejó lo hace hasta usted!” The girl looked about fifteen, but was stacked like a porn star.

  Oh, so it’s ‘Nico’ with the bitches, Kym thought. And tellin’ them that you love them?

  “Cierre la cogida, perra! Le dije que aspiró mi dick y que tragó
mi cum y ahora usted piensa te amo? Concha estúpida!”

  Oh, so ‘Nico’ got the pretty, petite bitches eatin’ his man and swallowing too.

  Kym drew her Glock and pointed it at Pretty Boy’s midsection. She waited for the half-naked chick to run down the driveway and out of danger. She knew she wasn’t going to shoot him, but she wanted to get his attention. She racked the slide and spit out the live round onto the ground as another slid in the chamber.

  “Nico!” Kym yelled.

  Pretty Boy’s eyes almost popped outta his head as he whipped around. “Ms. Kym!”

  “Put your fuckin’ hands up, Serrano!” Kym ran up on him standing in the doorway naked. He still had the orange condom on his limp seven inches. She shoved him around and jammed a pair of black cuffs on his wrists.

  “Don’t you fuckin’ move, Nico! You a stupid ass illegal alien ma’fucka, ain’t you! I should violate your ass right the fuck now for lying to me! Oh, yeah, I know all about your new charges in the County. You goin’ down, boy. You better tell all your bitches adios, ‘cause your immigrant ass is goin’ back to Bolivia via Graterford Prison, asshole!”

  Not wanting to give the neighbors any more of a show than they already had, Kym pushed him in the house and face down on a pool table in the basement. She tightened the cuffs on his wrists, making him scream as the steel clamped down on his flesh.

  “Don’t fuckin’ move, Nico,” she demanded.

  She ran upstairs and quickly searched his house for anything else she could violate him on. She found a small stash of Icky inside his pillowcase and slipped it in her pocket. In the fridge was a case of MGD forties. Cheap Nigga! A case of Heineken maybe, even Corona, but MGD? Kym felt like a cheap trick!

  She had enough to bust Pretty Boy right now. She could call the 24th District and have Philly’s finest here in ten minutes. He’d be at the Round House at 8th and Race in thirty minutes, and transported to Graterford Prison by 10:00 am.

  But she had pulled her weapon on him, possibly in front of his nosy neighbors, for no apparent reason. She was supposed to contact Brooks and write a report each time she brandished her weapon. She didn’t quite have that good of a reason tonight…and she also didn’t have any panties on. God forbid if she made a scene and the police swarmed, and somehow she exposed herself. She could come up with a viable excuse for coming to the house this late in her personal vehicle and not the County issued Charger, and even for pulling the Glock on him. But how would she explain the missing undergarment if it came down to it?

  Kym ran back downstairs and kicked Pretty Boy in the back of his thigh. He was still face down on the pool table.

  “You stupid prick! Be at my office on Monday morning at 8:00 am. Don’t even think about being late, and don’t think about running. Where the fuck would you go anyway? It would probably take three days just to get to that backwater, dirty country where you were born!” She yanked his arms up behind him, and reluctantly took the cuffs off. She walked to the back door. “Give me a reason to call ICE and the DEA! And bring $2500 with you on Monday. I know you got it; I saw the stacks on your dresser.”

  She slammed out the back door and spun the tires of the Jaguar as she screeched down the driveway.

  ***

  Pretty Boy dialed the number off the business card left in his door four months ago.

  “Agent Johnson, its Serrano. P.O. Devers just left my house. She had her Glock jammed up in my face and scared off my girlfriend. She said she wanted me to bring money with me to the office on Monday. She wasn’t even in her regular probation car either.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Rick Brooks listened to Special Agent Johnson’s taped conversation with Rafael Serrano on Monday morning. Damn it! He had missed the Agent’s call on Friday night, and now he was too late to stop the momentum of Probation Officer Devers before she finished spinning her web of deceit right under his nose.

  Serrano, one of their snitches, had violated back to prison Monday morning, just as Kym said, before Brooks even got into the office. Johnson was going to have a fit! Serrano’s message stated that he’d been instructed to bring money into the office, but he hadn’t told them how much. It could’ve been as little as $100 or $10,000, knowing Devers’ conniving ass. Whatever money she took from him could be anywhere by now.

  Brooks sat back in his chair, and tried to imagine what he had done so horribly in his life that he deserved the horror of Kym Devers.

  ***

  Two years ago…

  Right after releasing the beast in Kym’s throat, Brooks jumped up and opened the door to his office. Kym was still beautiful, but now looked disheveled, and her lips were bruised by the beating Rick’s dick had put on her throat. Rick was all professional again.

  “Ms. Devers, thank you very much.” A minute ago she was Kym. “Allow me to show you to your desk. As you can see I’m very busy, and we’ve spent too much time on the trivialities of your duties as a probation officer for the County of Philadelphia,” Rick said. He pushed the intercom button on his desk phone. “Mrs. Cole, please have Officer Johnson come to my office right away.” He turned to Kym and said, “As you can see, I’m awaiting an important meeting with my fianceé, Tracy Johnson. Please see yourself out.”

  Oh, no the fuck he didn’t. Kym could feel the steam rising off of her head, as she wiped her mouth and did her best to smooth down her hair. She wanted to reach out and slap that shit-eating grin off his face, but instead, stopped the recording on her BlackBerry. Oh no, nigga, you got brained by the wrong bitch today, she thought to herself as she walked out of his office.

  As she smoothed the wrinkles out of her linen dress, Kym could’ve sworn she heard Mrs. Cole say something like, “Nasty Tramp!” as she walked by.

  ***

  And so her time went by as the new probation officer. By the time Kym passed her 180-day probation, she’d had enough of Rick Brooks…and his relationship with Tracy. Kym had approximately six tapes of Brooks getting brained and fucked by her all over his office, and in his County and personal cars.

  Not once had he opened his filthy mouth to reciprocate. Her pussy was well used and abused, but never by his tongue. She had to admit that his long, lean specimen of prime fillet mignon was made for films. After Kym finished blessing him with her Oral Olympiad, he blessed her right back…with his dick. He couldn’t even get all of it inside of her snatch. And Kym was surely no virgin.

  She’d been to his house in the Penrose section of Philadelphia to make dinner, and pop her pussy on his eleven-inch hard dick all night. She’d spent an hour in an apron and leopard Louboutin Twistocha sling backs, and then an hour on her knees under his first floor office desk. When she was finally loose from captivity, she snuck in the bathroom and stole a bottle of Viagra from his medicine cabinet.

  She had Rick Brooks right where she wanted him. And she was about to have his Black Card square in her back pocket. She had put in the time, now all she needed was space and opportunity. Kym was going to get hers…in spades.

  ***

  Eighteen months ago…

  Day 181 Kym called Brooks on his extension.

  “Mr. Brooks’ office,” sang the old dinosaur, Mrs. Cole.

  “Mrs. Cole, its Kym Devers. Can I speak to Mr. Brooks, please?” she asked.

  “Who is this?” Mrs. Cole asked.

  The bitch was playing, but she had treated Kym like a crab since her first day when Brooks made her perform the Olympic event of under-the-desk-fellatio. Kym dared her old, wrinkled ass to call her a ‘nasty tramp’ again.

  Kym put patience in her voice and said, “It’s Kym Devers. I’d like to speak with my supervisor.”

  “I can hardly hear you. Call back.” CLICK

  And so it went on until Kym stalked to his office on Day 185, and walked past the living dinosaur, Cole.

  “Oh no, you can’t go in there. Mr. Brooks is otherwise engage,” Mrs. Cole stated.

  “Quiet, bitch.” Kym had had enough of Rick and Cole. She walked in
to his office unannounced, in time to see Rick give Tracy a lingering kiss.

  “Hey, what’s up, Trace? Sorry to burst in, but I need to speak with Mr. Brooks right now. I’ve got a hearing in the morning.” Kym had become Tracy’s best friend, all the while fucking her man on a daily.

  Tracy flashed a brilliant, beautiful smile and squeezed Rick’s arm. “No need to apologize. Babe, I’ll see you later tonight.”

  Kym slammed the door almost on Tracy’s heels as she walked out.

  Brooks was all business-like again. “See here, Ms. Devers…” he began.

  Kym never let him even finish his sentence. She pressed play on her Curve and let him hear his voice, crystal clear, giving orders. “Suck this dick, Kym. Yeah, Daddy like it rough. Let me feel your teeth. Whose dick is this? Yeah, bitch, you’ll eat this dick whatever way I want you to if you want that promotion…” At that point she stopped the tape, and pulled out the Viagra.

  “Now, Rick, here’s how this thing’s ‘bout to go down,” Kym stated.

  ***

  Day 182 Kym called Rick on his extension.

  “Mr. Brooks’ office.”

  “Mr. Cole put Rick on,” Kym said.

  “That’s ‘Mrs. Cole’, and who is this?” she asked.

  “Umm, yeah, that’s what I meant. It’s Kym, put Rick on the phone,” she said.

  “Mr. Brooks is otherwise engaged at the moment. I’ll put you through to his voicemail,” Mrs. Cole stated.

  “No, Cole, tell him it’s me.”

  “Very well,” Mrs. Cole said, putting Kym on hold.

  “Brooks here.”

  “Brooks, I’m ready,” Kym said, as soon as Rick picked up the phone.

  “Ms. Devers…”

  “Who?” Kym asked.

  “Kym, I’m in a meeting with my lieutenant,” Rick said.

  “I’ll be right over. Get him out.”