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"Your clothes are in the dryer, Miss. Everything you had on was wet and some things had even frozen. They should be dry in another half-hour or so. Would you like some hot chocolate?" I asked, extending the cup to her.She took the cup and mumbled thanks then she asked, "Where the fuck am I?"I looked over at Jethro and asked, "Jethro, why couldn't you had found us a nice, sweet, innocent damsel in distress, instead of the Wicked Witch of the West?"Jethro didn't answer."I asked you where the fuck. And they had. If he hadn't gotten out of his car to walk down the block at that exact moment, they could have snuck her past him. But as it was, he saw her, sitting in the back seat of the unmarked car, a privately owned vehicle, he'd bet.He'd tailed them to that little house in that terrible neighborhood. And he'd laughed as he drove by, noting the cocky swagger of one of the cops and the way his eyes had roamed over Kaylee's ass as she'd turned away to go into the house. He'd take the cop's. He keeps rubbing his crotch as he walks, like he doesn’t care the little boy is there. I can see his big dick forming a bulge and I get so turned on. Suddenly we pass in front of a building and someone’s coming out and he goes in and holds the door for me. He says this place might do; we go up to the roof and its freezing cold and my hard-on goes down. The guy leaves the kid on the roof and tells him we’ll be right back. He shuts the door behind him and we run down the stairs and my dick. I squeeze my thighs together pushing the spiky little egg against my balls. I watch intently as my cock’s bulbous head pushes forward. A part of me wants to reach down and stroke myself, but I made a commitment to myself before I started that this was going to be a hands-free orgasm. As I type away I realize I have this rhythm going between my thighs. I glance down again. There is a small bead of precum fluid forming a puddle at the tip of my cock. I would normally take my forefinger and rub it.
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