“What’s the address where you arrested Sergeant Reaper?” he asked.The guy at the counter gave the address, 640 Piney Terrace, and Crowley stood ...p and went to the counter. “Give me the phone book.”“Sir?”“Give me the goddamned phone book or you’re on report along with Dubois!” That got some action, and Crowley leafed through the Matucket phone book until he found the page he wanted. “John Reaper, 640 Piney Terrace,” he announced disgustingly, slamming the phone book down on the counter. “Cut him. “No, no girl-fiend,” I replied.Michelle stepped off the chair and immediately fell to her knees between my parted legs. Her hands felt for the bulge in my crotch.“Hummmm,” she exclaimed, “It seems like someone is having a party down here.”I closed my eyes as she unfastened my belt and pulled at the opening to my jeans, thrusting her manicured fingers in past the elastic waist-band of my underwear and grabbing my throbbing cock. I thought for sure I would simply explode at that point, but lucky. More

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