EXTRACT FOR
Kelli and the Law
(Author Unknown)

Chapter 1

    

    "Let me see if I got this straight," the older black man said looking at the younger man strangely. They were standing on a busy downtown street. "You want me to take your wife on as one of my whores?  I gotta ask why.  You need money that bad, boy?"

    "No, it's not money," Kevin Bolton said. "It's something I...I mean we, want to do."

    "I see," the older man said slowly. "You want your wife to fuck around so you'll feel better 'bout...whatever it is you're doin.  Is that it?" 

    "No, not that either. I'm not doing anything," Kevin said. "It's just something I think...I mean we think she should try."

    "What does your wife look like?" the black man asked suspiciously. "She fat? Ugly, or what?"

    "She's very pretty," Kevin said taking his wallet out and showing the man a photograph of his wife.

    "Yeah, she's a looker alright," Coot Wilson said looking at the photo.

    

***

    

    Across the street two men, both black, sat in a black Crown Victoria watching the two men.

    "Who the fuck is that talking with Coot?" one of the men asked his companion.

    "Don't know, Rex," the other man answered lazily. "Don't much give a shit either."

    "I ain't seen him around here before," Rex Calvin said looking through the binoculars. "Young, clean-cut, and well dressed."

    "Probably some college kid looking to line up some pussy for a frat party," Van Mason answered.  "Who gives a shit?"

    "Maybe I do," Rex said shortly. "No, he's a little too old to be Joe College. Besides, Coot only handles white women for black johns."

    "Okay, Rex," his partner said slumping down in the passenger's seat. "Yell if you spot our man. I'll catch me a little shut-eye."

    "Man, I ain't believing you," Rex said still looking through the glasses. "The city pays you a fine salary and you goof-off on them. We work for the po-lice department, and I insist on you givin' a good days work for a day's pay."

    "Fuck you, Sergeant Calvin, sir," the man answered without opening his eyes. "They ain't payin' me to watch Coot Wilson and some punk shoot the shit. I got bigger fish to fry. I'm a homicide de-tective not some creep from vice.  Kid is probably trying to sell his mother or sister to Coot."

    

***

    

    "Your wife is willin' to go along with this?" Coot asked. He was still holding on to Kevin's wallet and looking at the photograph of Kelli Bolton.

    "Yeah, sure she is," Kevin said. He knew he wasn't telling the exact truth. Kelli had agreed to try it, but only because Kevin had insisted and even begged her.

    "She have any idea what a whore does?" Coot asked. "She got any notion what it means to be a ho?"

    "Yes, we discussed it," Kevin said.

    "Why did you come to me?" Coot asked. He glanced down the street at the black car. He recognized the Crown Vic as a cop car.

    "A guy I work with told me about you," 

    "He tell you that I cater only to blacks?  Is that what you want for your wife, boy? You want her fucked with black cocks?"

    "Yes, he said you had some white women, and your client base was strictly Afro-Americans."

    "Where'd you park?" Coot asked handing the young man his wallet.

    "A couple blocks down in a parking lot," Kevin said.

    "Let's walk and talk," Coot said, glancing again at the cop car. After a block Coot said, "You got any idea what goes on in the business? Do you know anything about ho's?"

    "No, not much," Kevin admitted. "Just what I've read and heard." Coot didn't reply until they reached the end of the block.

    "Boy, your wife is going to meet and fuck a whole bunch of the brothers. Some of them ain't all that nice, either. She'll get skull fucked, ass fucked, and after a while her cunt will be too big to even feel your dick. Some of them ol' boys could shag a cow to death.  You sure that's what you want for her?"

    "Kelli needs a lot more than I can provide," the young man said, looking everywhere except at Coot. "She...ah, well you see she..."

    "Okay, send her to see me tomorrow at one o'clock," he said interrupting the stammering. "I'll talk with her. She can find me at Sam's Bar on Sixth Street."

    "Okay, I can take a late lunch and come with her?"

    "No, I'll want to talk with her alone."

    "I'm afraid I must insist," Kevin said stopping and looking at Coot.

    "Then forget it," Coot said continuing to walk on. "I ain't got time for bullshit games anyway."

    But why? I mean what will it hurt if I'm there?"

    "I want to explain things to her and make damn sure she understands. I also want to know that she's agreeable to it. Fuck it, dude. Go bother somebody else."

    "No, wait a minute," Kevin said hurrying to catch up. "Kelli will be there at one o'clock. Sam's Bar, right?"

    

***

    

    "Where are we going?" Van Mason asked sitting up when Rex started the car.

    "Following that kid and Coot," Rex said. "Go back to sleep."

    Rex watched as Coot Wilson and the young white man spoke briefly and separated. He watched as the kid went into an unattended parking lot and got into a red Lexis. Rex copied the tag information into his notebook and watched the Lexis drive away.

    "Where we goin' now?" Van asked.

    "Over to Sixth Street," Rex answered. "I need to have a little chat with Coot."

    

***

    

    "Well, well, if it ain't Sergeant Calvin in the flesh," Coot said as the big cop loomed over the table in the back of the bar. "What brings you to this place?"

    "Who's the white kid you were talking to a little while ago?" Rex asked turning a chair around and sitting in it backward.

    "You workin' vice these days?" Coot asked.

    "No," Rex answered shortly. "Who was the kid?"

    "I talk with a lot of people," Coot said. "Can't remember them all, can I?"

    "Coot," Rex said. "There probably ain't but three or four people in the world who knows you really own this joint. The problem is I'm one of them. What do you think the beverage licensing board would do if they found out they had issued a liquor license to a convicted felon?"

    "What the fuck you want, Rex?"

    "I want to know who the kid is and what you talked about."

    "Hell he's just some kid who has a yen to see his wife put out for the brothers. I get two or three a year comin' to see me. Won't amount to much, if anything. Why you askin'?"

    "Just curious," Rex Calvin answered. "Tell me about it."

    Coot told the police officer what had been said. "She's supposed to come see me tomorrow at one. I'll go on record right now, sayin' she won't show. They hardly ever do."

    "I guess we'll just have to wait and see, won't we," Rex said, getting up from the chair.

    "You got a hankerin' for some fresh white meat, Sergeant?" Coot asked with a grin.

    "Always, Coot," Rex said. "The key word here is 'fresh'."

    "If she shows, which she won't, you want to take her for a test drive?"

    "Just might do that," Rex said leaning down on the table between them. "I'll see you tomorrow at one, Coot."

    

***

    

    "I just don't get it," Kelli Bolton said to her husband. They had been married three years. "Why do you want me to do this? It doesn't seem normal to me. I'm your wife, Kevin."

    "I know," Kelvin said. "It's not normal. I'm not normal and you aren't normal. You have busted my chops since day one. You want more sex than I can give you. This is a way for you to get what you need.  We've been over this several times, Kelli. We've tried threesomes and swinging, and that didn't work out all that well. This is the answer. You'll meet Coot at one o'clock, or you'll shut up and be grateful for what you have."

    Kelli didn't reply to Kelvin. She knew he was right. She had an extremely high sex drive and poor Kelvin didn't. It was funny, she thought, she had no idea she was so overly developed sexually until after she and Kevin got married. She had been a virgin until then. She also knew that she had cried herself to sleep in frustration many nights. When she was just getting started Kelvin was finishing up. She reluctantly agreed to swing and that worked for a while, but it was too risky, and some of the people they met were creeps.  One of their swing partners fell head over heels in love with her. That caused all sort of problems, so they stopped swinging. Over the past year or so she had literally worn out three dildos. Self-administered sex was okay, but it didn't replace the real thing.

    Kelli thought back to their swing meetings. One guy, a dark skinned Latino, stood out in her memory. He was an excellent lover, and gave her a lot of good orgasms. Without Kelvin's knowledge she met the guy a couple of times at a motel. But as good as he had been, she always left the motel wanting more. She also felt guilty about stepping out on Kelvin. When Kelvin mentioned her getting together with black men, the idea intrigued her, even though she had never actually known a black person. Kelvin downloaded some photos from the internet. Some of the photos were close-ups of their cocks.

    So when Kelvin suggested she go to work for a black pimp as a whore she resisted the idea at first. The very thought of being a prostitute flew into the face of her idea of a proper wife or even a good citizen. Over the next few weeks, Kelvin became more and more insistent. Finally she told him she might try it after he brought a couple of triple X DVD's home. She knew they were actors playing a part, but they still excited her. One day Kelvin brought a homemade video home. It was poorly done, and the people were obviously amateurs. Besides being aroused she was also jealous of the white woman who was on the receiving end of a long, hard, black cock. When Kelvin told her he had spoken with the pimp she discovered that she was both frightened and excited. 

    "Why do I have to meet him by myself?" she asked. "I'm not sure about that. Why can't you be there?"

    "That's the way he wants it, Kel," Kelvin explained again. "I guess he wants to make sure you're acting on your own freewill, or something."

    "I don't know if I can do it," Kelli complained. "I don't think I have even spoken to a black person before."

    "Sure you can," Kelvin insisted. "I'll drop you off on my lunch break, and you can take a cab home."

    "But what if he wants me to... show him something?  Or even do it?"

    "Then do what he says," Kelvin said. "Think of it as an interview for a job. You got a great figure, Kel, so use it. Show the man what you got." 

    Kelli did have a great figure. Her five feet four body was all curves. She was proud of her boobs; thirty eight D cup breasts that sat high on her chest with only the slightest sag from the weight of them.  Her figure was coupled with a pretty, girl-next-door-face.

    Birth control had never been a problem with the Bolton's. They found out, not long after they were married, she couldn't conceive. She thought it may have something to do with her extremely high libido.

    "What do you think I should wear?" she asked her husband.

    "Something sexy," Kelvin answered. By sexy they both knew he meant sluttish. "That black silk skirt and the red tube top," Kelvin suggested. "You don't need a bra."

    Kelli giggled, "I don't know about that. I might get raped before I even get in the place. That outfit doesn't leave much to the imagination."

    "You don't want him to have to imagine anything," Kelvin said with a laugh. "You got it, so flaunt it."